#Are we just going to ignore the line about his dick on her teeth

[weixuldo]

mdni! NSFW

“Slow down, slow down baby” Hayden Christensen pleads through clenched teeth as he attempts to halt the fluid roll of your hips.

The corners of you mouth turned upwards as you watched him struggle under you- he was on his second orgasm of the night- but you stopped (for now).

“t’s the matter? Though you said we could follow my lead tonight” you laugh as you press your forehead against his.

His beautiful blue eyes clenched shut as you slowly rutted you hips again- usually Hayden set the pace; being the older one in the relationship- he often tended to take the lead with things.

But tonight…ohhh tonight was your night to shine.

you painstakingly dragged your hips along his; your tight pussy clenching around his throbbing cock. His breath faulted as you began to kiss down his neck while his dick sunk deeper and deeper into you.

Once you were satisfied with the depth, you quickened your pace, filling the bedroom with filthy sounds.

“Oh baby, you’re solid- are you already about to cum again?” you teased as the man under you frantically nodded his head.

He groaned and pawed at her fat of your ass as you bounced on him.

“Fuck! Slow down sweetheart” he exclaimed.

You laughed and ignored his pleas until his strong grasp held you firmly in place. You frowned at his strength (you weren’t done).

He rested his head against the headboard with his eyes shut to catch his breath. He looked perfect.

“Hayden… why’d you stop me?” you asked as you dragged your polished nails down his chest.

Still breathless he responded “didn’t wanna cum yet- wasn’t ready”.

You scoffed and swiveled your hips quickly once his grip loosened, “well i can feel your dick twitching babe- i think you’re ready” you smiled before lightly smacking his hands off of you.

“plus you said this was my night, remember?” you added as you began to ride him again.

His chest rose and fell as his synapses fired, “Fuck! Fuck please” he begged.

You quickened your pace and soon he felt his thighs begin to tremble; he was close.

With a smirk you bent down to his ear and gently nibbled on the lobe before whispering “it’s alright baby, you can let go”.

The man whimpered desperately before you sunk down on him particularly hard and he bursted inside of you. Happily you welcomed his warm seed as he emptied his drawn up balls into your tight pussy.

Once you are satisfied you slowly slid off of him, making him groan. He was breathing heavily and his brows were upturned in the most beautiful manner. You smiled and gently took his tired and blushing member into your delicate hands; he gasped at the sudden touch- he was so sensitive.

Slowly, but meticulously, you began pumping his still semi hard dick. Hayden’s body tenses up as he tried to understand what was happening.

“B-Baby, I can’t-“

You shook your head, “but you can” you responded, lining up your hole with his shiny tip.

“Oh God…baby… oh God!” he cried as you sunk back down onto him.

You kissed him tenderly as your cunt gripped into his cock; “just give me two more Hay- jus’ two more” you repeated as you clawed at his toned back

*sub hayden? ummm yes pls… over stimmed too?!

[holylulusworld]

Aahp (5) - Payback is a bitch

Summary: Mobster!Andy Barber x fem!Reader, Mobster!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader, Mobster!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of character’s death, mafia business

A/N: It's been quite a while...huh....

Angel and her protectors masterlist

Part 4

“What are we going to do now?” 

The question hangs like a sword of Damocles over their heads. Ready to destroy everything they built over the years.

Fury will have their backs. But will their power and influence be enough to beat Ransom Drysdale, Alexander Pierce, and their lapdogs? You never know in their line of business.

“What not?” Bucky repeats his question. “If Pierce wants another war, we are fucked. We’re not prepared for a war.”

“You are not prepared,” Andy tuts. 

Bucky snarls at Andy. “What do you mean?” 

“While you and your brother were out there, playing hide the salami with as many girls you could find, Steve and I made sure our empire would remain.”

“Hide the…” Bucky snorts. “You know, for a man your age you sound like a gramps sometimes. Stop with your uptight crap. Man, we like to fuck. That’s not a crime.”

“It is, if you ignore your duties,” Andy is ready for a fight. He’s done being the responsible one all the time. “I’m not your dad, you know. I won’t do shit for you all the damn time.”

“You sure sound like my dad,” you yawn while walking inside the living room. While you rub your tired eyes and stretch your body, all eyes are suddenly on you. The shirt Nick gave you rid up, exposing more skin than intended. “He loves to talk about responsibilities and stuff too.”

Andy looks offended at your words. He furrows his brows and puts his hands on his hips. “I’m not that old! Even if I sound like your dad, I’m not like him.”

“I know,” you hastily say, not wanting to anger one of the men keeping you safe…or hostage. You still don’t know if you can trust them. “My dad doesn’t wear a beard nor a gun.”

“That's not a gun. Andy's just happy to see you,” Nick throws in, making all of you laugh. “Andy’s just too shy to admit that he likes a pretty girl like you.”

“Fowler,” Andy grits his teeth. “This is not the time for bad jokes and childish behavior. We are close to a war with not only Drysdale but Piece too. Get a hold of yourself and stop flirting with that girl!”

“What if you'd just let me go?” You murmur, afraid to cause more trouble. “If Ransom is made because you keep me here, we can solve the problem that way. Right?”

“He’s not mad because you are here, Pookie,” Nick gently cups your face. “He’s an asshole first grade. Your ex-fiancé killed his grandfather and took over his business. Now he’s mad with power.”

“Oh—” you hum. “I forgot for a moment that I mean nothing to Ransom.” You give Nick a cracked smile. “What do you want to do with me now?”

“My sweet pookie will stay with me,” Nick declares before anyone else in the room can answer. “I won’t let that bastard hurt you, Y/N.” He whispers your name. 

Andy rolls his eyes. Of course, Nick had to take the chance to hit on you again. “Nick, can you just not? We have urgent things to discuss. You can get your dick wet later.”

“ANDY!” Steve, Bucky, and Nick hiss in unison. “Can you just not ruin any chance we have with Y/N?”

You feel a little lightheaded when the three of them look at you. Uh-oh. They meant what they said. “I-I kind of feel flattered, really…but…uh…I don’t think I can handle four guys. One was already too much to handle.”

Bucky smirks at his brother. “Did you hear, she wants all of us? I knew she was a wildcat and a dirty girl.”

“That’s not what I said,” you sigh. It feels like they don’t even listen to you. Bucky and Steve smirk while Nick possessively wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

Andy on the other hand tries to ignore the pull toward you and to on the upcoming war he tries to prevent from happening. “We should focus on Piece and Drysdale. What are we going to do about their bond?”

“Distrust,” you throw in to get their attention. All eyes are back on you. “You said they want to form a bond and work together. If they do not trust each other, you can use that to your advantage.”

Steve nods thoughtfully. “That’s not the worst idea. Distrust is the poison ruining any relationship. We should try to break their partnership before it can bloom.”

“Can I go then? If Ransom is not interested in me any longer, you have no reason to keep me here. Please just let me go.”

“Pookie,” Nick presses a soft kiss to your temple, “Ransom believes you are with us now. He’ll hurt you only to get to us. We cannot let go. It’s for your own safety to stay with us.”

“Yes or no. Can you fake the footage for us, Jensen,” Andy grunts. “We need to trick these bastards. If Pierce believes Ransom tries to fuck him over, he will end up dead.”

“Let me work my magic. After I’m done with the footage you gave me, Alexander Piece will believe that Ransom tried to conspire against him.”

“Call our problem solver,” Andy raises his hand to stop Steve from talking back. “I know, I know. You don’t like Hansen but he’s reliable. I want him to fake an assassination attempt on Pierce.”

“I didn’t say a word,” Steve shrugs. “We reached the end of the rope. If we don’t want to fight on two frontiers, we must outsmart Drysdale and Pierce.”

Andy smirks. For once his brother gave in without a fight. “Jensen, I want you to open an offshore bank account and transfer money onto Hansen’s fake account. Make it obvious that Ransom transferred the money to pay the killer.”

“If we get rid of them, can I focus on winning my Pookie over?” Nick grins. “I know she wants me to take care of her. She’s too sweet to face this cold and cruel world on her own. I need to protect her.”

“We,” Andy corrects. “We all agreed on taking care of Y/N. She will stay with us. For now, we need to focus on taking Pierce and Drysdale down. 

“Payback is a bitch,” Bucky smirks. “I can hardly wait to watch Drysdale fall. He deserves to end up in the gutter…”

More tags in reblog.

Angel and her protectors

@missvelvetsstuff, @openup-yourmind

___

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[tbmunson]

If your requests are open can you do gareth emerson x reader where she is short but she has a bad temper and she finds out what jason did to gareth and his friends and she loses her shit if not I understand

Short Fuse - Gareth Emerson x Reader

Thank you so much for the request 🤍🤍🤍

Summary: Basically what the request says

Warnings: Anger, Swearing, mentions of death (Jason and Eddie), Violence, name calling, mention of sex, fem pronouns ("She" used like twice).

WC: 600ish

Check out my Masterlist for more from me!

You pulled up to Gareth's house and saw the boys setting the drum kit back up. "What the fuck happened?" You asked, walking into the garage.

"Jason-"

"Don't worry about it." Gareth cut Jeff off, giving him a pointed look. "It's fine." He added.

Your lips pulled into a line and you raised your eyebrows at the back of Gareth's head since he had yet to face you. "Gareth." Your voice had a slight warning tone in it as you crossed your arms over your chest.

"Y/N." He answered, eyes scanning over the symbol.

You chuckled, a bitter sound before rounding to look at Kevin, a bystander until now. "What. The fuck. Happened?"

"Kev, don't." Gareth sent him the same look he'd given to Jeff.

"Sorry dude. She might be five foot nothing, but she's scary as hell." He turned to face you, ignoring Gareth from then on. "Jason and his boys came by looking for Eddie. They weren't happy we didn't know where he was. Andy and the other one held me and Jeff back. Jason punched Gareth in the face, pushed him into the drums, and may have possibly broken his hand." He sped up towards the end, cowering in the way your stair became angrier with every word.

Your tongue skimmed over your teeth as your rounded to Gareth. "And you just weren't going to fucking tell me?" Your head bobbed from side to side as you spoke with attitude dripping from every word. You didn't mean to take the anger out on him, but you were fed up, and him trying to hide it from you wasn't helping.

He sighed and finally turned to face you, showing the bruise that was forming on his cheekbone. "I just didn't want you getting mad. It's okay, really."

"No, it's not fucking okay! It's not okay for them to be on a fucking manhunt for our friend. And it's not okay that they're rolling up on people and questioning them like the fucking cops!" Your fists shook by your sides and your face grew redder by the second.

Gareth stepped up to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Sugar, I'm alright."

You looked into his eyes, your anger softening a bit, but not by much. "I swear, the next time I see any of them, it's on."

And it was. A couple days after the earthquake you saw Andy walking up the the school, hands in his pockets.

"Dick!" You yelled across the parking lot, flipping the bird to him as he glanced over at you.

"Bitch!" He shouted back, making you smirk.

That sense of community was gone.

"Why don't you come say it to my face, pussy?"

He turned, walking your direction.

"Half pint bitch." He bent down to get in your face, which is exactly what you wanted him to do.

You drew back and in one swift motion your fist connected with his face. "That was meant for Jason, but you know, he's dead." The lack of remorse for him was evident. It wasn't that you were glad he was dead, but you had a peace of mind that he wouldn't bother you or the boys again.

Andy was holding the side of his face as he looked at you. "Psycho!"

"Don't mess with my boys again. Ever." You stepped away, heading towards your car when he started hurling names your way.

"Whatever you freak fucker bitch!" He was standing tall now and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, if you don't know how to make someone cum, just say that." You taunted, opening the door before giving him one last bird. No matter how much you wanted to stay and fight you'd promised Gareth you wouldn't do too much. That didn't stop you from nearly running Andy over as you left the parking lot though.

Gareth grinned for the first time since he learned of Eddie's fate as you recounted the story to him, pulling you to sit in his lap. "I love you, Sugar." He placed a kiss on your cheek.

"I love you too, Gare."

[wrencatte]

gahhhh the snippet for "sacrifice play" is SO GOOD 🙌👏 thank you for sharing! ❤️ since it was already asked about, could I maybe inquire about grief doesn’t hold shape?

i can't wait to actually finish it XD XD!

grief doesn't hold shape (real title "grief doesn't know its own shape") is the story that starts with Bruce telling Dick about Jason's death and then flash forwarding to a Nightwing and Red Hood section where Jason gets...tortured and Dick gets to watch and it just brings back so many unwanted feelings because he doesn't want to fear for his little brother's life because he doesn't want to be in a position where his little brother's life is on the line and all that. I'm still working on the schematics of the Nightwing and Red Hood bits. But writing Bruce informing Dick of Jason's death was fun to wrtie!!

This is the tail end of the first section, only because it's so long and I've already posted the first part a long long time ago

Dick stares at the screen with wide, stinging eyes. That sounded like goodbye, he thinks and covers his mouth. Bruce’s most recent message just says call me when you get this. He does, shakily bringing the speaker to his ear. He doesn’t realize he’s stopped dead in the middle of the main room. Donna frowns, asks him if he’s alright, and it sounds like she’s coming from underwater. He ignores her as the line rings out without Bruce ever answering.

He calls again. Then again. Hands shaking, eyes burning, a mantra of no no please no in his head.

The third call almost rings out when there’s a click and then a long sigh. “Dick,” he says heavily, his voice hoarse.

Dick remembers the last time he heard Bruce sound like that, and he closes his eyes. Remember waking up to scratchy, stiff blankets and monitors in the distance and cotton in his mouth. Bruce hovering over him, clasping his hand, carding his fingers through Dick’s hair.

Bullet wounds hurt.

He’s pretty sure this is going to hurt worse.

“What happened?” he demands. It grabs the team’s attention fully instead of them just side-ey-eing him, and he can’t find it in himself to care that they’re zeroed in on him. “Bruce, what happened?”

A long silence. Batman doesn’t hesitate. Bruce does.

“Jason’s dead,” he says quietly.

Dick doesn’t realize his knees buckled until Roy’s grabbing him by the arm, swearing. Garth takes his elbow and they both lead him to the couch where he collapses in a heap. They’re asking rapid-fire questions, but while Donna sounded like she was underwater, they’re all starting to sound like they’re at the end of a long tunnel. Underwater. Just background noise to the awful, terrible sentence echoing in his head.

Jason’s dead. Jason’s dead. Jason’s dead.

“How?” he croaks out, leaning forward – and leaning and leaning until Donna’s there, bracing him by the shoulders. He ducks his face, pressing the crown of his head to her stomach, shoulders shuddering. She digs her fingers in rhythmically, but that just makes him want to cry even more.

“The Joker.”

Dick laughs brokenly. Because of course. Why not.

“How?” he asks again. Getting answers is like pulling teeth. The anger that would normally appear the longer Bruce gives non-answers doesn’t show up. Instead, he feels – he feels hollow. Like, like an ice cream scoop came in and carved him out. “It doesn’t matter,” he says. His voice is dead. He feels dead. Jason’s actually dead. “I’m coming to the Manor.”

“We had the funeral,” Bruce says softly and there it is, a hint of emotion. Regret. Remorse. Grief. Dick tugs on his hair once, twice, then Garth is taking his hand, tangling their fingers together. “I’m sorry, Dick. I tried to put it off for as long as possible.”

“Liar,” Dicks says uncharitably just to hear Bruce’s carefully controlled exterior hitch. He said sorry. When was the last time he heard Bruce say sorry? He slumps. “Sorry, B,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair.”

There’s tears in his voice and Dick feels like a heel, when Bruce says, “It’s okay, chum. It’s a lot to take in. I…I would really love it if you came to manor.”

Dick thinks of bodies cooling in a cold, lonely alleyway, pearls shimmering in the lights, a little boy wailing for his parents. He thinks of free-falling then not, standing on his toes and looking downdowndown and seeing red and white and pink and people screaming and crying, and a figure curling around him, whispering reassurances in his ear, hiding his parents from sight.

“Okay,” he whispers. “I’ll – I’ll be there soon.”

He thinks there’s word for children who lost their parents.

“Love you, chum.”

 – but what about a word for parents who lost their children?

“Love you, too.”

 –  a word for siblings who lost their little brother?

Dick buries his face in his hands and cries.

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Let’s finish the trifecta! Fin and Scarlett getting walked in on

I mean, the answer to this is which time? because they’ve been caught by basically every member of their families

But I wanted to switch it up teehee :)

~~

Fin is working on the underside of a Longbow on a garage creeper when he hears the sound of a familiar gait and the cries of a baby. Smiling, he rolls his creeper out from under the ship to be met with the desperate face of his brother-in-law, holding his crying daughter.

“She won’t calm again?” he asks, clambering to his feet. Tyler shakes his head.

“She’s teething and we’ve tried everything but I think she just wants to be adopted by you,” Ty says and Fin’s heart breaks for his absolutely exhausted Alpha, before opening his arms for Lae. Ty places her in his arms and just like that, the crying turns to mere displeased grumbling. “Unbelievable,” Tyler whispers, collapsing into the seat at Fin’s workbench.

Fin ignores him, instead walking a lap around the Longbow, cooing at Lae. As he’s coming back around the Longbow, he hears his Uniglass ping.

“Hey, Ty, can you just check that, it’s probably Scar telling me what she wants me to grab on the way home for dinner,” he says, grinning at the thought of going home to his wife.

“She on bedrest or something?” Tyler asks and Fin nods.

“Yeah, the doctor’s want her to be careful, what with the fact it’s twins,” he explains and then shrugs, “I don’t know, I think she’s just so excited to be a mum that she’s just following all orders to the T but it’s kind of nice, being the one to take care of her instead of the other way around,” Lae starts fussing again so he turns around to take another lap around the Longbow. “Anyway, what does she want for dinner?” He calls and hears the slide of his uniglass being picked up. Just as he rounds Tyler’s side of the Longbow, he sees a uniglass (presumably his) going flying across the room like it had been thrown.

“What the fuck?” he demands as he approaches Tyler again, who is looking very flushed.

“What the fuck, me? What the fuck, you?” Tyler sputters right back. Fin’s brows furrow.

“What do mean, what the fuck me?” Tyler seems at a loss for words, throwing a disgusted look to the uniglass on the floor.

“You said Scarlett would be messaging about dinner, not writing an essay about-” he gags a little before standing and taking Lae from Fin’s arms, “Well, I won’t repeat it in front of impressionable young ears.”

Fin, confused, walks over to his uniglass, picks it up from the floor and opens the message his wife had just sent him, reading both paragraphs.

The first was indeed a request for pasta and ice cream for dinner (he pats himself on the back for guessing correctly).

The second was definitely longer than the first and Fin’s cheeks heat as he reads it. It was basically a treatise on how all she had thought about today was not being so pregnant so that they could resume the... extracurriculars of their marriage. She went into the kind of detail that one would expect from those trashy erotica novels she loves and he can feel his cheeks heating more and more each line.

Eventually, he turns back to his brother-in-law sheepishly and holds the uniglass up.

“So, uh, how much did you read before you realised what you were reading?” Tyler sends him a scathing look.

“I didn’t need or want to know that much about your dick or how your children were conceived, Fin,” he says. Fin nods.

“So not the really bad stuff,” he says and Tyler shudders a little.

“I seriously doubt that could've have gotten worse,” he says and Fin doesn’t correct him, instead just returning the uniglass to it’s previous position on his workbench.

“Sorry. We send messages like that back and forth every now and then but had I known she was going to message me that, I wouldn’t have gotten you to pick it up,” he explains, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

Tyler didn’t answer, instead sniffing Lae’s head as if the baby scent could calm him.

“I’m messaging our group chat and telling them never to look at your’s and Scar’s uniglasses,” he says eventually, throwing another scathing look at the device. Fin nods but doesn’t respond, instead reaching over and scratching Lae’s head.

“Worth it,” he says, grinning and Tyler just groans, before standing and walking out of the garage. Fin drops his head, grinning like an idiot.

He takes another look at the Longbow and then at the uniglass.

Eh, the Longbow will be just as much a piece of chakk tomorrow, he decided, stripping his overalls off. Tonight, worshipping his wife was much more pressing.

~~

You just know that Finlett sext.

[shinysam29]

Diluc x Zihao(OC) Crack/Smut Oneshot

MINORS DNI

(My first time writing smut for two male characters. Practice in the form of a crack fic)

“Ahh… All I can think about is Diluc…” A voice practically moaned out from around the corner.

Zihao stopped in his tracks at the sound and peeked around the corner to see a woman sighing happily, off in her own little world thinking about Diluc. Zihao heard her sigh Diluc’s name again as said man himself walked up to her. Diluc greeted her kindly and the woman began to subtly flirt with him as they spoke. Zihao felt his face grew red as his chest tightened with both jealousy and fear that maybe Diluc likes her as well. Diluc’s eye met with Zihao’s and his already smiling face lit up as Diluc sent a genuine smile to Zihao.

“Zihao? Is that you?” Diluc motioned for him to approach.

“Ah, Diluc…” Zihao approached and stood in front of him, ignoring Donna’s questioning look.

“Are you okay? Something seems off.” Diluc leaned close, pressing his forehead to Zihao’s. “Hmm… No fever. But your face is red still.”

Zihao’s cheeks heated up further as his dark eyes looked into Diluc’s red ones. He soon relaxed as one of Diluc’s arms snaked around his waist, pulling his skinny self close to his muscular form.

“Who is this?” Donna asked, confused as she eyed Diluc’s arm and the way their hips were touching.

“My lover, Zihao. He’s a detective from Liyue.” Diluc leaned towards Zihao and kissed his temple before leaning close to the man’s ear, whispering just for him to hear. “No need for jealousy, my love. You’re the only one for me.”

Diluc nibbled on Zihao’s pointed ears, his tongue tracing the outer shell which caused Zihao to gasp and turn even more red. He gripped onto Diluc’s coat, tugging it towards him as a soft gasp escaped the man’s throat.

“Um, e-excuse me..?” Donna muttered, face red as she looked at the two. “I’d like to return to work. Can you two take this somewhere else?”

“Apologies, Donna. We were just going home now.” Diluc waved before grabbing Zihao around the waist, pulling him with him towards the manor.

~~~~

A trail of clothes ran from the top of the staircase into Diluc’s room. Inside the room, Zihao was a moaning mess as Diluc’s fingers worked his back hole. Diluc’s teeth were sinking into Zihao’s chest and shoulder, leaving marks as he continued his ministrations.

“Diluc…” Zihao moaned out in Diluc’s ear causing the man’s cock to throb with anticipation of hearing his name echoing off of the walls around them.

“Soon. Patience, my love. I promise I’ll take care of you.” Diluc kissed Zihao, their tongue moving against one another’s as Diluc spread his fingers within Zihao’s ass. Zihao moaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating against their tongues before Diluc pulled back.

Diluc removed his fingers from Zihao and wiped his hand with a towel. He smiled and turned Zihao around, bending him over the bed. He lined up the tip of his dick with Zihao’s ass, holding Zihao’s arms behind his back before plunging inside. Zihao gasped before letting out a loud moan, Diluc’s large dick sinking its way inside of him slowly.

“Ah! Diluc.~” Zihao moaned out as Diluc bottomed out within him, the full 8 inches of Diluc’s cock now deep inside of Zihao.

“Zihao…” Diluc breathed out, squeezing both of Zihao’s wrists in one hand as the other rests beside Zihao’s head. “You feel so good…”

Diluc slowly pulled out before beginning to thrust into Zihao, the bed shaking with the force of each thrust. Zihao was a moaning mess, tears falling from his eyes at how good he felt.

“Ah! Diluc!” Zihao moaned out, Diluc grunting as he thrusted faster at the rush of hearing his own name spill from his lovers kiss bruised lips.

“Zihao.” Diluc moaned out slightly, his hands releasing Zihao’s arms in favor of sitting up slightly and gripping Zihao’s hips, pulling himself to hit deeper within the man beneath him.

“Ah!” Zihao cried out in pleasure, tears stained his cheeks as Diluc’s thrusts came even faster, his own dick rubbing against the blanket of the bed with each thrust from Diluc.

“I’m close…” Diluc muttered as he dug his nails into Zihao’s hips, his grip bruising the skin there.

“Please..! Ah Diluc!” Zihao moaned, feeling his own orgasm approaching fast from both Diluc pounding into him and the friction from the bed rubbing against him.

After a few more thrusts Zihao came on the sheets, his ass clenching around Diluc as he did so.

Diluc thrusted a few more times before emptying himself within Zihao, pulling out moments later. Diluc grabbed the towel beside them and cleaned up Zihao and wiping at the cum stained blanket. Diluc chuckled a bit as Zihao crawled under the blanket, panting and sighing.

“Tired, my love?” Diluc asked as he walked to put the towel in the hamper after cleaning himself off.

“Mhmm…” Zihao hummed as he closed his eyes for a moment. “Yeah… You’re so amazing, Diluc…”

Diluc climbed into bed beside Zihao, smiling and wrapping his arms around him. Diluc planted a kiss on Zihao’s forehead before cuddling him.

“I love you, Zihao. So much.” Diluc mused, a soft, loving smile on his face. “You changed my life for the better. I was hateful and dreadfully depressed before meeting you. You’re the best thing I have and I’m not giving you up for anything. So please, don’t think I’ll leave you for someone else again.”

Zihao’s eyes were a bit wide at this revelation. He cupped Diluc’s cheeks, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you, too, Diluc. Thank you for letting me into your life.” Zihao smiled before closing his eyes, leaning his head on Diluc’s chest.

“I love you more.” Diluc teased as he rubbed Zihao’s back, smiling as he also closed his eyes, napping with his lover for a few hours before he went out to do his Dark Knight Hero work.

[enchanted1waters]

You owe me.

part 1 of a Nikki SIXX x femreader

My stage name was Scarlett Viper, I was the lead singer and star bassit of the all girl hard rock band, "Fangs and all." We had been scheduled to be performing at whiskey a go go tonight, I stood patiently at the bar while I waited for the next band to start so we could go next.

I had black leather flared pants, the sides cut out to be replaced by revealing black lace. Which matched my black spiked at the trim, lacey corset which stopped right above my belly button. Leaving my curves to trace down into my bright red leather belt, tying in my red platform boots barely peaking from the flared leather. My tits overfilling the corset, causing my chains to rise and fall with my chest. My lips plump, colored with deep red. My eyes detailed by eyeliner and deep red eyeshadow, enhancing my siren like eyes.

As I ran my recently done black nails through my voluminous hair, I ordered a shot of jack. "make that 4." I heard a cocky voice. I ignored the 3 new men beside me as I was used to men assuming they could swoon me over a drink, maybe get me drunk enough to come home with them after the show. Yet as I was waiting for the drinks, I turned slightly to see a shaggy haired, punk, heel wearing, tall man with a jack Daniels tank top on assessing me as a short blonde hit the back of a even taller and equally attractive man's head.

"Can I help you, Paul Stanley?" I said raising an eyebrow. His lip curled in disgust, "Yeah by never calling me that again." I scoffed and rolled my eyes moving my attention to the newly arrived drinks. I instantly threw back the shot sighing at the liquid yet not wincing facially. Suddenly I looked back to find the three guys looking at me, I turned towards them. "Look I don't know if you guys are new to earth, but humans find it rude to stare for too long."

They smiled and started to laugh as the one I had previously insulted looked at me with a crooked smile. "Look babe, were just surprised at your taste for drink." Then the leaner, taller one nodded, "Your meanness too." I raised an eyebrow as I readjusted my belt and top wishing for this night to be over with. That's when the blonde one spoke, "plus you're super hot, babe." The shaggy and taller one then added, "Yeah, that meanness really adds to the hot rocker chick vibe." He said with a shit faced grin, the leader like man then takes his head by the hair and slams his head on the bar 3 times as they all shouted in agreement.

I then saw an older one pass, shaking his head, mumbling 'idiots'. Who I could only assume was with them. That's when I snapped back, stepping off the stool. Raking my tongue along my white teeth as I reached forward to take the assholes shots. "I'm taking this because you sat close and added to my bill," swinging the shot back and then setting it down. "This one for the agreement to the stupidity and assuming I'm a bitch cause I'm not slobbering over your dicks yet, and this one because for someone who looks like Malibu barbie sure is agrresive for a kids toy. Oh and don't call me babe again. Ever. " I then picked up my bass, swinging the strap over my shoulder as they all laughed at how bad they were insulted. Mostly at the blondes new nickname.

*Nikki's pov*

As the new chick walked away, all I could hear was a mix between everyone's laugh including Mick's from the other side of the bar except for Vinnie's ego whom never been checked. As Tommy rubbed his forehead from the impact and smiled he said, "Fuck, she's mean." Secretly loving it. Then Mick from across the bar with an entire bottle in his hand agreeing "oh fuck yeah she is. Man do I like her."

I didn't know what to think of her, I just knew she was something I wasn't gonna be able to just forget about, especially because of how she didn't even let me get a single flirtatious line out before she stole not only my attention and shot, but reply. Which was new for me, usually I could've fucked two girls within the first 2 minutes of knowing them. Now I was left awestruck.

That's when we were called onto start.

*Scarlett's pov*

As I stood next to my redhead drummist, the band I had previously met made their way onto stage. Everything was smooth until a big, bulky, hairy asshole started to get vocal almost shouting over the music. If there was a thing I hate about music, it would have hecklers. This one in particular shouting so loud over the band's song which to my surprise was actually pretty good, that I could barely hear. Suddenly when the heckler threw his drink at the deva of a man singing, it went silent.

I quickly turned angry, "Hey, asshole mind fucking off, if ya don't like the music don't show up. It's pretty easy." He turned and looked at me,quickly shushing the girl he was with as she pleaded with him to just drop it. "I said SHUT UP." He then turned around with a disgusting smile, "now no one asked you." He then turned back to girl who had grabbed his arm to attempt in stopping him from causing an already started scene. That's when he slapped her ass and looked at me, "mind your business whore." Before anyone could react I walked forward, tongue poking in the side of my cheek, grinning ear to ear. Yet my eyes said otherwise.

*Nikki's pov*

Suddenly this firecracker of a woman laughed in this tank of a man's face and cracked down her bass on his head. Causing him to fall bleeding, gathering himself quickly. That's when I jumped off the stage and right hooked him, his other friends quickly joining along with my boys fanning out as tommy jumped on a guys back, Vince using the mic stand to hit a guy in the stomach, while mick just continued to shred. After a couple minutes, bruises, cuts, concussions, broken instruments, and struggling security gaurds. The fight was broken up. Leaving the crowd silent, my eyes meeting with the heaving, lipstick smeared, hair ruffled, fiery chick I had just met.

That's when clapping started, chanting and cheering as we were encouraged back on stage to finish. The Woman now mouthing a 'you owe me', I wasn't mad nor surprised. I just nodded and smiled at her.

~a couple weeks later, my bandmates and I found ourselves freaking out at our house, getting ready for a party that would cause the door to get kicked in again~

As I put cologne below my belt buckle and on my neck, I walked into the living room to find Tommy pointing and shouting excitedly to Mick and Vince about something he had in his hands.

"What's up T-bone? New playboy magazine?" I asked slightly hoping it was. He shook his head as his eyes got wider as he saw me. "Nik! Just the guy I was waiting for!!! OKAY so ya know that super hot rocker chick we met, ya know the bad ass with the bass smashing-"

"TOM, YES. Get on with it." He laughed, "okay, welllll she's on the cover of the rolling stone as America's hottest rocker chick, the captions saying 'most likely to murder someone in cold blood and look hot while doing it, just to get away with it.' and it doesn't stop there!!! SHE EVEN GOT BEST FEMALE BASS PLAYER."

I quickly grabbed the magazine from him, something in my pants twitching as my eyes gazed over the same girl I had met not long ago on a motorcycle, sat with spiked heels, leaned forwards, back arched almost exposing her entire ass in the leather jumpsuit. Her body submissive and seductive, yet her face conquering. Suddenly Vince's grabby hands snatched it away, "fuck, she's hotter now that I know she's actually good." Tommy instantly snatches it back, "I'd let her step on me."

Vince smiles, "too bad she'll be mine." Tommy's face twists, "is that a challenge, Vinnie Pooh? How could she possibly resist the loveable hopeless romantic that hasn't basically begged for her?"

Jealousy sprouted, "No way dibs." I said firmly. This then led to us three tackling eachother for the magazine after finding out there's a fullsize poster, which led to a busted table, a broken chair, an ankle bitten and a gut busted belonging to Mick as he yelled, "you guys DO realize she ignored SIXX, rolled her eyes at lee, and finally called Neil here a, what was it.... Oh yes, A FUCKING MALIBU BARBIE!" He started to cackle slapping his knee.

I quickly got up and fixed my jacket as I rolled my eyes at Mick. Tommy wiping his mouth as he was the one who bit Vince, who then continued to reply "if ya wanted to get kinky, at least let me look at the poster while we're continuing." As we all tossed around in the floor. Tommy then claimed that she was bound to love him, then Vince stating that he was the only one that she talked to. Which Is obviously not true.

After a couple minutes of arguing, an idea popped into the golden retriever like boy's head, which btw is NEVER. A good thing. "How about whoever can get her to sleep with them tonight wins the poster, therefore causing the rest of the guys to back off."

Mick lowered his sunglasses, "You jackasses are joking, RIGHT? BECAUSE you shouldn't treat a woman like an object."

I smirk, "and if she's likes it like that?" He scowls in repulsion, "Then I owe you a hundred bucks, but in reality this is going to go to shit. Hey where are you guys going!?! We still need to decorate." He said as we all had already dispersed. "TO WIN MY FUTURE WIFE!" Tommy said from another room, "TO GET READY TO GET LAID!" Vince added, I popped back into the living room to look at Mick, "I'm already ready, I just need a drink and to figure out how to get her here."

Mick then gave me the brilliant idea to get her bandmates to come, maybe even distract the other two while I come in for the kill. At this brilliance I kissed Mick straight on the mouth, he of course gagged causing my heart to swell, "MICK YOURE A GENIUS, I LOVE YOU, YOU FUCKING ALIEN." .

*Scarlett's pov*

My perfectly slutty bandmates, (Rebecca and Tracey) had found another party tonight after our show at the sunset strip. Me craving the chaos like usual immediately accepted. I had a red tight leather dress on, slit on the thigh. Kinky looking black straps around my right thigh, fish net on the other. Black leather gloves that allowed my nails to show through, silver hoops, black choker, and sexy makeup covered me.

"Oh come on, Trace it'll be fun. Besides if ya don't know anyone here, you don't have to worry about people telling your folks back home you like to sniff snow and bone hoes. Simple." I laughed as the girls I had under both arms CACKLED as we walked up to the party. Eventually climbing through the window after passing the fans who clearly recognized us, I immediately realized who's house this was.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. cussing under a sigh. "Who's party is this, scar? Usually you would already be chugging a keg?" My best friends asked.

I then walked forward pushing people out of the way, I turned to give my girls a come hether motion. I pointed to the tall lanky guy I had met before, with long black hair currently eating a girl out in a chair. "This whore right here, is Tommy Lee. Drummer of Motley crue." I then grabbed his hair, causing him to snap his head back to look at me, then smiling with the women's slick still on his face. Slightly turned on, I looked back to my girls. "Tommy I believe it's rude not to fully introduce your skills to more of your guests." I said with a smirk, turning his head to my friends who's missions tonight were to get laid.

They flirtatiously waved, before he could say anything the half-nude girl started to whine. "Yeah yeah, we hear ya." I said as I plunged Tommy face back to where he originally was. "Bone appetite Tom." I could tell he really wanted to talk to me, but the man had a reputation to hold. So I nodded to my girls as they found their victims for the night. Me quickly finding the drinks after pushing through hot, sweaty, basically naked bodies to get to the kitchen.

*the boy's pov*

Nikki was currently lighting hairspray to graffiti the wall with a burned in signiature. Shortly interrupted by Mick nodding as he tilted his hat down, out on his shades, and downed half the bottle as he walked to his room. Nikki smirking, that is until the blonde man of his band almost knocked him over, running so fast past him. "OH SORRY NIK!" he said quickly before Nikki pinned him to the wall by his jacket, displaying his abs. "What's got you in a rush, Vinnie?" He laughed nervously, "oh ya knoww, just excited to eat...pizza." Nikki nodded, not believing a single word. "Yeah I'm sure, must be some GREAT pizza, huh?"

Vince nodded, patting his stomach. "yeah been on a diet for a while, if you'll excuse me I have some food to devour-" before being able to escape Nikki's claws and suspicion....Tommy had came out of the bathroom, wiping his face off with a rag. Leaving a mischievous shit faced grin. "So I'm guessing Nikki got to you before you got to her, huh? Does that mean the games are on?"

Nikki's eyes grew a demonic look as his lips turned into an almost satanic grin, as he kneed Vince in the balls causing a girlish huff out of him before he fell to the ground. Then turning to see Tommy heaved over gasping for air as he laughed at his friend's pain. "Sorry Tom." Nikki said before kneeing him also in the balls and booking it to find his prize.

His eyes scattering the room like a predator hunting for it's prey. Pushing and shoving hundreds of women and men out of the way.

*Scarlett's pov*

The burning liquid slid down my throat levitating exhaustion from the previous comcerts. As I say down the glass I heard a voice behind me. "There you are Scar, and if you're wondering how I got your name. I may or may not have the magazine with your delicious looking self on it. What was it again? Something about getting away with murder, being the best female bass player." Suddenly my senses were filled with a masculine scent, mixed with cigarettes, jack Daniels, and mischief. He then pushed my curls behind my ear gently, whispering so low it sounded like a growl.

"Almost sounds as if you like blood, you're good with your fingers. You play with that selfish little pussy with those talented fingers? Hm?" His raunchy growl sent shivers down my spine and into my core. I whipped around and kept my composure. "Only close friends call me Scar, and yeah you ask about any girl in this room which one of us has the magic hands and she'll answer me." I smirked, expecting a shocked expression yet I was met with a even more disgustingly mischievous smirk. His green eyes dark with hunger, he lowly chuckled as he put his ring covered hands on either side of me. "Sounds to me like you're suggesting were more than friends, since we're rather close right now and although I would've called us friends it sounds to me like you're suggesting otherwise. And to make it easier on you Scar, I'll call ya sugar for now. That work sweetheart?" He said as his charm almost had my knees weaken.

That was until two limping bandmates came in pushing Nikki to the side, "get us some ice packs you asshole." the blonde said. I laughed at the sight, "Awh Barb, better just stick it out nice and slow. You wouldn't want blue balls now would ya?' as I pointed to the Ice pack. The blonde slipped off the counter and walking towards me, "Trust me, I like to take my time with things, so no rush or problem with blue balls, darling." He said with a beautiful smile that his his sinful words as if he didn't just suggest downright godly sex.

I scoffed and poured myself another drink before starting my way out of the kitchen, Nikki calling for me. "Where ya going sweetheart, I was just getting started. Didn't even get to win at who has better fingers." He said with a cocky grin as he fanned his fingers out. Painted red and black, thick, masculine, ringed fingers. Fuck did my mind wander.

I swiftly ignored his antics and replied, "going to find a seat and my girls. Maybe some entertainment." I was shortly cut off by Tommy leaning on the counter, looking down at me. Without his usual goofyness and replaced with some type of starvation. "Well my face is always an option. Then two of those are solved, then suddenly you won't be able to remember finding your friends." Before I could recognize the wet pool in my lace, I felt a slap at my ass. I looked behind me ready to swing to find Trace and Beck.

"Hey hot stuff, no wonder we couldn't find you. You're sandwiched between hot, beautiful, and sexy." Beck said as she pointed to each. I raised an eyebrow. The boys noticing and Inflating their egos. I scoffed, "watch it beck, they'll find our playboy page and start jacking off in the middle of the kitchen before you know it. Don't let em know you think they're attractive." They all laughed before I asked where the girls had been but before they could answer, all three boys had twisted me around to interrogate me. "WAS THE PLAYBOY THING A JOKE?" "what page." "I need to make a run to the store." They all said in unison. I just rolled my eyes and turned back to the girls. "Oh we double teamed this super gothic weird guy in the bathroom, then we decided to come find you but we were about to attempt to start spin the bottle but instead who ever it lands on gets asked truth or dare by who spun it."

The boys started high giving, screaming like animals. Thanking the girls. The terror twins saluting. "THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE." That's when it clicked. Mick got laid. Eventually leading the chaos into the living room to start the game.

To be continued....

[lucientelrunya]

one line any fic! rules: pick ten of your fics, scroll to somewhere midpoint, pick a line chunk and share it, and then tag ten people

I was tagged by the awesome @forerussake, thank you! So, I only have 6 fics posted on AO3 and the stuff I don't have on AO3 is old RPG-stuff in changing first-person-perspective, so I won't do those (I would have to translate them and I'm too tired for that). Which means I only have 6 chunks.

Between the Shadow and the Soul (M9, FuBa)

“But I am willing to forget this happened. The dagger’s master didn’t do this. I am willing to offer the dagger’s master a trade.” Qi Tiezui swallows and finally manages to move again, taking an instinctive step back. The thing tilts its head, but doesn’t follow him again. “This vessel means a lot to you,” it adds unprompted, “You love it. I am willing to give it back to you. Unharmed. For the dagger.” The thing extends its arms, as if it wants to present Rishan’s body to him, something that could be a smile creeping onto its face. It only makes Qi Tiezui feel cold all over, because it’s more of a parody of a smile, there is too much teeth in it, danger oozing out of every pore. His hold on the dagger grows tighter on instinct. As long as he has it, this thing cannot hurt him. As long as he holds it the dagger will protect him. As long as he holds it he is the dagger’s master.

2. We go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos (M9, Gen)

He goes in first, ducking a little under the door and turning to the spot in the corner where he knows he left Rishan on the pressure plate. And uneasiness turns to full blown panic in his gut. Rishan is still there. Exactly in the spot he had been told to stay in. There is a considerable puddle of blood at his feet and his head is slumped forward. Unmoving. Zhang Qishan stops short, staring at him for a second and at the blade piercing through his side. But then he shakes himself out of it, rushing to grab Rishan’s shoulders and get him upright again, to get some of the pressure off the blade. It’s almost a miracle that he doesn’t trigger some other trap in his haste. He can hear Ba Ye gasp behind him, but he ignores him for now.

3. The Darkest Night (M9, FuBa)

With his useless shoulder it’s a real fight to keep Lao Ba away from the door and he is panting in pain once Lao Ba gives up his fight and stops hitting him to just break down crying. Accepting that Rishan had to leave. That there really were claw marks on his arm, even if he didn’t see them with his own eyes. That there was no way at all to save him. Zhang Qishan gets down to the ground with him, holding him against his chest with his good arm, fighting against his own tears. It’s not fair, it’s still so utterly unfair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, but he can’t be sure if Lao Ba even hears him.

4. Stolen Moments (M9 FuBa, implied Fo Ye/Rishan, NSFW)

"My darling, are you up for another round? It's okay if you're not," he asks softly, because no matter how much he would like to just hold onto Rishan and push inside of him like this, Fo-ye said he has been rough. And since Fo-ye is always rough with Rishan that means something. He would also be content with just kisses and finishing himself off against the warm body in his arms. Rishan makes a small sound, holding onto his arms as he wriggles his hips back against Ba-ye's already hard dick. "I'm good," he says and his voice is wrecked, which elicits another jolt of arousal from Ba-ye because he can vividly imagine what Fo-ye did to cause that. He smiles against Rishan's throat and just barely manages to keep himself from sucking a bruise right there, where everyone could see.

5. Like a lonely house (post-TLRTR, FuBa)

It seems to encourage Liang Wan to ask jokingly but still quietly if Ba Ye felt the need to protect her and Zhang Rishan with his snoring. Ba Ye doesn’t seem too happy about that, which seems strange because he can normally take such a small joke and laugh about it. And that he accuses her of being too cuddly-clingy in return makes it really hard not to burst out laughing. Because if that isn’t a case of the pot calling the kettle black then he doesn’t know what is. Liang Wan blushes and looks at Zhang Rishan like she doesn’t know how to answer that and wants his help with this. Interestingly it’s Huo Xiuxiu who says something before he has a chance, having watched them from her place across the table. “You both seemed pretty cuddly-clingy last night,” she says, but she looks straight at Zhang Rishan, so he isn’t sure if she is referring to him carrying Liang Wan to her bed or the part where Ba Ye had clung to him the rest of the evening. Or the part where both of them had clung to him while sleeping?

6. The Crystal Menace (Mecha-AU, FuBa, to no one's surprise)

Wu Xie is lying on one of the bunk beds, a book in his hand but he has lowered it to watch them with a confused expression. Zhang Qiling is dozing in the bed above him, seemingly undisturbed by the commotion, but Zhang Rishan knows he is probably not asleep at all and listening to everything, prepared to jump out of the bed if the need should arise. It seems almost like a normal evening, like they don’t have to process anything at all. “Sit down,” Pangzi says again, putting gentle pressure on his shoulder and he obeys and sits on one of the chairs. Pangzi slides into the one across from him, his frown now clearly worried. “I’m sorry,” Zhang Rishan says again and Pangzi just shakes his head. “Stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong,” he says calmly, still looking worried.

I'm tagging everyone who hasn't been tagged yet and wants to do this.

[valarysworld]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 || 𝐑 + 𝐒

Another small snippet of my new book "Sweetest Heart". Wattpad: Valerysworld_ Sky x OC x Riven

First small snippet: https://www.tumblr.com/valarysworld/748242156472401920/sweetest-heart-r-s?source=share

=============== 𝟔 | 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 :

"We have more important things to talk about." She continued, willing to ignore their previous conversation.

"Oh yes, of course, Princess Sophia. What is ever so important?" Rivens voice was filled with ridicule as he responded. "Yeah no offense, but we were already having an important conversation." Sky agreed with the other boy, Sophia squinted at them.

"A conversation about Riven and I getting down and dirty... okay well—" she shrugged and started backing up, unlocking the door. She peered down to the floor and purposely mumbled out, "—guess you don't want to know what my power is"

They both gasped, hoping they heard her right. This whole power ordeal was a big deal to everyone who knows Sophia. If you've forgotten, she is royalty. Her line of blood holds some of the most powerful fairies and warriors in existence. If Stella fails to take the throne, it would be Sophia's duty to take over and become queen. She is a princess.

She ignored their gasps and pretended to take interest in leaving by slowly opening the door.

"Hang on just a minute!" Riven shouted, they both jumped over to stop her from leaving; Sky took the liberty of pulling her away from the door, having them sit on his bed while Riven pushed the door shut and followed them over. He sat on the other side of her.

"Now go on, tell us your power! You must." Sky demanded with a blinding smile.

"I'll do you one better. I'll show you." After she finished saying that, she leaned down and grabbed the pocket knife Sky keeps in his boot, flipped it open, and held it up to him, "Watch and learn"

She shifted her body so both of the boys could see her clearly and she held the knife up to her finger. She laughed a bit before she could get the second part out, "prepare to be amazed"

She positioned the sharp knife at her finger, and without warning, slashed it. It wasn't a deep cut, it was light and not too harmful. But still, it hurt more than the paper cut.

She gritted her teeth a bit and let a breath out, causing a quiet hissing sound.

"Why-" "Sh! Just watch!"

It didn't heal as fast as the paper cut but slowly the three of them watched the skin connect itself back together. "Wasn't that so amazing guys?"

"You're a healer?" Sky asked. "That's so unfair. She's gonna kick our asses when we spar." Riven grumbled.

She flicked Rivens temple and smirked, "I always kick your ass" then turned to Sky and said, "I am. It's been there all along, we just didn't pay enough attention."

"That's awesome, Soph... can I apologize for these past few days? I've been a major dick—" she waved Sky off, "you were going through something with Stella, there's no blame. As long as we're fine now, it's in the past."

They gave each other a grin. He wrapped his long arms around her waist and pulled her against him as much as he could in the sitting position they were in. Her arms automatically found themselves around his shoulder, rounding her hands together behind his head and tightly squeezing her arms. Unknowingly, they both inhaled each other's scents, feeling at home.

"Okay I feel left out now"

With a tsk and a roll of the eyes, she removed one of her arms and grabbed Rivens hand, pulling him closer. He let her guide his hand to her hip, right below Sky's arms. Getting the idea, he then wrapped his arms around her and laid the side of his face on the back of her head.

Each one of their bodies tingled, ultimately confusing them. Sky was calm, but for the first time ever, He didn't get pissed at the fact that Riven was able to even lay a single finger on Sophia. His Sophia. Sophia was filled with comfort, yet desire still dared to accompany it. 3 parts of her body were talking to her and she didn't understand why. Riven was just extremely hard.

They stayed like that for a while, sipping in each other's company and touch.

When it finally came time to let go, something filled the air. Something devious and dangerous.

A current blur between the lines. ...

https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/361420302/write/1441998539

[kyloxox]

Eddie The Freak Munson (Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader)

Summary: Eddie becomes your new dealer. You don’t like him or the fact that he’s friends with your half brother or the fact that he’s started dealing for Chrissy Cunningham. But you still can’t get enough of him.

Warnings: NSFW, drugs, pot, drug dealing, oral(m&f), unprotected sex, car sex, this is really off with the canon st plot line so just ignore it<3 also we save Eddie from being considered a murder so go us and our pussy power!

Part two

“Hey.” You turn your head to see Eddie Munson walking towards you.

“Hi.” You reply. The man slams the metal lunch box he is holding on the hood of your car as he stops in front of you.

“How are you doing tonight, m’lady.” 

“Fine, yourself?”

“I’m doing a drug deal, with Y/n Henderson. I’m doing great.” You throw him a sarcastic smile. 

“The only reason I’m here is cause my guy ran and skipped town. You’re not my first choice trust me.”

“Ouch.” Eddie says as he pretend like you stabbed him in the heart. You cross your arms over your chest and roll your eyes. 

“How much can I get for 15?” You ask.

“Usually I do 20 for half ounce but I’m gonna gonna give you the pretty girl discount.” 

“Oh gee I bet you just say that to all the girls.” You smirk he hands you the bag and you hand him the cash. “Thanks, I’ll let you know if I need more.”

“I look forward to it, sweetheart.” 

You get into your car and lock the doors. You watch Eddie get into his own car and then hear loud music, leaving the parking lot in a haste. You don’t even realize you’re flustered from him before you’re alone in silence. Eddie Munson, freaking you out and getting you nervous? God you had not smoked in 2 weeks you must be going insane. You really hoped you would be able to find another dealer before you ran out again but secretly you knew that wouldn't be the last. 

-

“Fuck Ed-Eddie go faster.” You whine into the air as you gripped Eddie’s shoulder harder. His long fingers move at a sloppy and quick pace.

“Your wish is my command sweetheart.” Ed replies before he curls his fingers inside you at a heavenly angle. You’re truly in heaven. You’re fucked out in the backseat of his van, your legs spread like a whore. You don’t know how you ended up here, but you always do with Eddie.

After your first deal with him you couldn’t bother finding someone else. He was easy to contact and get shit from. You just stuck with him. And now after about your 3rd time meeting with him your primal needs over took you as you ended up in the backseat of his car after talking to him for hours about pointless shit.  

“God you feel so fucking good on my fingers. Such a dirty girl letting the freak finger her in the bad of a van.” It seemed like since the last two weeks of the summer, ever dealing session you had with Eddie ended with him either finger banging you or sucking him off. And if you were being honest you couldn’t complain. To much surprise, Eddie was a god with his fingers and had a huge dick. And you couldn't get yourself to stop seeing him or buying his pot. 

-

You watched as Dustin sat with his friends at a random lunch table. You were always protective over him as he was used to being lightly bullied and seen as a nerd. But he did have his friends who cared for him a lot so you figured he would be fine in high school. 

That was until you saw Dustin walking to your car wearing a Hellfire Club shirt that you knew all too well. Dustin was a good kid but who knows what he would do to impress someone like Eddie. To show his worth. Fuck Dustin needs to stop befriending 18 plus year olds. 

“What the hell are you wearing?” You questioned as he walked into your car. 

“Oh it’s this D&D club at school! Isn't that cool that there is one?”

“Yeah super cool.” You grit through your teeth, he seemed so excited you didn't wanna kill his buzz.

“And the like president of the club is like this super cool guy who hasn't graduated for years, he’s like a triple senior. His name is Eddie Munson. Have you heard of him?”

“Being a senior for 3 years in a row isn't cool, Dust.” You say as calm as you can. “And yes I have heard of him. Pretty sure he’s been a senior almost every year I've attended there.”

“I know, I know. But he’s really nice, he kind of recruited me, Mike and Lucas. Isn’t that cool? We have older friends now.”

“That’s great Dustin. Just leave don’t turn into one of those guys.”

“I would never.” Dustin says with a smile and you just smile back, gripping the steering wheel.

-

Now you believe Eddie’s doing it on purpose. Without even realizing how much it annoyed you. Causing a scene every lunch period with your brother and his friends. Being loud and rambunctious with your brother and his friends in the hallways. And you wanna just ignore it and walk away but you can’t. Your eyes are glued to his form. Especially when he’s with your brother.

Eddie is sweet to him. He’s sweet to all of them. And it makes your heart throb as well as wanting to rot.

You couldn’t handle it anymore. The thought of Dustin becoming a mini Eddie was haunting your every waking thought. At lunch you saw Munson sitting with his usual friends. You walked past the table, making eye contact with Eddie. This was your signature move to him to show that you wanted to speak. He excused himself from his friends and followed you into the hallway. When he was outside the lunchroom he looked around for you but couldn't find you. Out of nowhere you grabbed his arm and pulled him into the dark hallway next to the cafeteria. 

“What the hell are you doing with my brother, Munson?”

“Henderson, or should I start calling you y/n, since your little bro has been downgraded to Henderson.” 

“We are not on a first name basis Munson.” You grit through your teeth.

“What are you talking about. I am on a first name basis with all my best customers.”

“Shut up. Stop trying to indoctrinate and recruit my brother for your little cult.”

“I kinda like it yknow? Haven’t stared at me like that in public in a long time right sweetheart? Bet you love staring at me and my beautiful face.”

“Shut up. What I want is for you to not turn him into a triple senior, drug selling freak like you. Got it? Slow down in trying to build up your freak show.”

“Slow down? Slow down? That’s not what you were telling me last week at our last meetup, now was it sweetheart. What was it? As I recall you kept telling me ‘Ed, Ed faster, faster.’”He says mimicking your voice and face.

“I told you to never mention that in public! Especially around your weird friends.”

“What are you worried you might also be considered a freak?”

“Shut up, you know I don’t mean that. You’re a practically normal person.” You smile at him sinisterly. “Back off my brother. Don’t need him turned into your drug mull.”

“You know I never thought about that. Using my freshmen as drugs mulls. Maybe Dustin could deliver your drugs for me. I mean it is much more practical.”

“Oh please you would miss your little back seat adventures with me too much.” You move closer to him so he can smell the perfume on your body and his breath slightly hitches as you place one of your arms on his forearm, “Wouldn’t you?” He looks around almost at defeat. “Bye Munson.” You say before rubbing his forearm up and down. You can feel the goosebumps form. You turn to walk away but Eddie grabs your hand too quickly. He pulls you into him and you fall into his chest.

“You know, you shouldn’t tease me.” He says moving a piece of hair out of your face.

“What are you gonna do about it Munson.” You rip away from him body. “Be nice to my brother or else.” You say stomping away. 

“Still got our deal tomorrow at 8?” He says cockily and you flip him the bird as you walk away. You both know that gesture means yes. 

-

You pulled into the trailer that belonged to Eddie. You walk up and knocked on the door. It takes Eddie a few minutes to open the door and when he does he has a cocky smile on his face. 

“Hey Munson.” You say as he moves away from the door to allow you in. 

“Hey Y/n.” He playfully replies. Even though he’s been calling you by your first name for months now it still leaves butterflies in your stomach. 

“You know I skipped out on another client to be here.” Eddie boasts as you turn to see him.

“Oh and who's that?” You say crossing your arms over your chest.

“None other than queen of Hawkins herself! Chrissy Cunningham.” He nearly yells and you laugh at his surge of energy.

“Chrissy Cunningham is doing drugs. Yeah right.” You shake your head.

“Yeah she asked for like some harder stuff.” He says shifting through the drawers on a nearby cabinet. 

“You’re gonna deal that poor girl cocaine?” 

“Yeah she probably needs it dealing with that psycho boyfriend of hers.” He says standing up before handing you the usual amount of pot he gives you.“Alright 20 for half ounce today.” You furrow your eyebrows. 

“20? It’s been 15 for the past 3 months.” He shrugs it off but you're still pissed, and you know he didn’t charge that cheerleader this much. “How much did you charge her for.”

“Who?” 

“Cunningham.”

“15.” 

“Then why is it 20 for me when you're offering her 15. God you are just trying to piss me off this week. First my brother and now this?” You glare at him.

“Y/n its 5 dollars I think you can afford it.” You stay silent at his comment. You feel stupid arguing about this with him but it is bothering you. Why is she getting the discounted rate? What’s so special about her? Eddie is way too smart to not put together the pieces either. 

“This isn't about the discounted rate now is it?” He says in an animated voice, almost mocking you, “Is my precious y/n jealous of the other girls I deal to.” He says moving his hand to your chin to caress it.  “Ugh you wish.” You say pushing away his hand. You don’t move away from him though, his body is sticking straight up to yours. His hand with his rings start to caress your thighs, running the slim limbs up and down the soft plush of them. He moves his head to the side of your neck so his breathe is tickling your skin. You gulp as goosebumps form on your body. 

“Cmon you know you are the only one I give my very very special deal to.” You look at him with the most dazed expression he’s ever seen on you. Your lips are parted and your eyes are dilated. You don't even know how his light touches have such a colossal effect on you but they do. It's the worst. It’s hell. But god you want him so bad.

One of his hands moves down to your waist and his other one reaches up to hold your face. You're not one for light touches you want to be touched with fire and passion not shy lightness. You move your arms to wrap around Eddie’s and smash his lips into yours. He kisses you back greedily.

“God I hate you Munson.” He chuckles at your words and starting to walk you back until you reach the hallway his bedroom is in. He grabs your hand and guides you into his room. 

“M’lady deserves to be worshiped in a real bed.” He says in a loud obnoxious voice as he gestures you towards his twin bed. You roll your eyes but smile slightly rolling your tongue over your teeth. You go to sit on the bed and Eddie follows quickly behind you. He lays you on your back as he hovers above you. 

“Shut up and fuck me, Munson.” He tilts his head above you. You grab onto his hair and pull him into you, kissing him with a force. His hands move to your waist and begin to dig into your skin. You know there are gonna be marks of his rings on your plush skin tomorrow. 

You’re desperate for him. You grab onto his vest and jacket and slowly push it off his body as your kissing continues you. You sit up to pull your shirt off and he follows your lead. You also unclip your bra and toss it across the room. The minute your tits are exposed, Eddie’s greedy fingers move up from your waist to your already stiff nipples. They’re sensitive. The nimble tips of his fingers begin to circle the bud before he breaks the kiss he has with you. He moves his head down so he can attach his mouth to your left nipple. You throw your head back as his tongue flicks your bud around his mouth. 

“Fuck Ed-” You say craning your neck to look down at him. His eyes flick up at you as he notices you staring at him. The sight in front of you is enough to make you come. Eddie looking up at you with doe eyes while sucking on your tit is a sinful sight but you're grateful you’re seeing it. His eyes are mesmerizing. Large soft brown orbs focusing on you and your pleasure. You see him move his hand that was on your right tit, to readjust his jeans and the hard on that is begging to be touching. You lightly tug his hair as a sign to let him know to release your nipple. 

You move from underneath him and he then rests on his back, watching you like he’s in a haze not knowing what your next move may be. Your hand moves down to the strain in his pants, lightly petting it. He groans at the friction that is placed on his aching cock. You play with the button of his jeans until it’s undone and your fingers play with the zipper. Once it’s down you move your cold hand to touch the bulge in his boxers. This time he lets out a louder moan as you’re closer and closer to touching him raw. 

“Please touch me, just touch me.” You turn your head to him and pout. You grab the top of his jeans and pull them down past his legs. You then do the same thing with his boxers, however as his dick springs out you don’t touch it. You just let it stand there, throbbing and ready for someone to give it attention. Eddie has the back of his hand resting against his forehead and his other hand twitches, debating either he should touch it himself or not. “Please y/n, just do anything.” You move closer to his large member and place your tongue on the base. You slowly drag your tongue up it until you reach the head. You then place your mouth around his aching head and start bobbing your head. With what you can't fit into your mouth you jerk off with your hand. 

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to throw his head back against the pillows. He involuntarily lifts his hips up but cradles your head after as a form of apology. He lets out little whines and groans as his dick is starting to hit the back of your throat. You start to suck in your cheeks and Eddie grabs the sheets. 

“Y/n, y/n please I’m not ready to come yet.” You bob your head a few more times before you pop him out of your mouth. You jerk him off a few more times before you move up to where he’s sitting on the bed. He pulls you into his mouth for another hot and wet kiss before he breaks it again. He is now the one playing with the zipper of your pants, unzipping it at an antagonizing pace. You loose patience as you start to quickly pull down your pants until you’re left in your cotton panties with a little pink bow in the front. Eddie’s fingers start to play with you above the fabric. He looks down at your covered cunt then back to you, who was already looking at him. His fingers slowly circle your clit. He moves his hand from the fabric to your stomach and starts to slide them beneath the cotton. His raw cold fingers lightly touch your clit but your body is jerking up at the touch. He then moves them further down to collect the wetness that has been pooling in your pants since you entered his trailer. He moves his mouth to your ear.

“Tell me how much you want your pussy licked sweetheart.” God you couldn’t speak. No man you've ever been with was like this. No one was as perfect as Eddie. “Awe I guess she doesn't want me to suck on her little clit.” His words catch you by surprise but you then act on his words.

“No, no Eddie. Please, please, please lick me. I need it. I need you.” You beg against his neck. You feel him grin and then begins to move down onto the bed where you were minutes ago. His lips are centimeters away from your pussy and his fingers start to move the fabric to the side. He dips his tongue into the mess of your cunt. Immediately the tip of his tongue touches your clit and you’re moaning out while grabbing onto his hair for stability. He’s drooling against your cunt at the taste that is exploding on his tongue. 

“Fuck you taste so good.” He mumbles against your cunt. You groan happily as he continues his tasting of your cunt. His tongue moves between flicking your clit over and over again and giving it long licks. With each lick to your clit your body spasms with pleasure, building up a knot in your stomach that you’re certain with burst at any second. He then moves his right hand that has the rings on them up to your sopping entrance and starts to slide his pointer and middle finger in. The coldness of the metal sends shocks through your body. starts roughly fucking you on his fingers and your body is in heaven. You know you're gonna come soon and you grip Eddie’s forearm to signal to him that you are. He doesn’t stop his movements, this only encourages him to pound into your cunt faster and faster until the twig gets tighter and tighter before you grip his hair and lift your hips up with a jolt and you moan out loudly. 

Eddie pulls back and he looks to see his good work. Your chest is heaving up and down as you try to recover from the intense orgasm you just experienced. Eddie looks proud of himself as he moves back up to you with a cocky smile and his hand of your waist, already trying to be more of his fix. 

“You look so hot when you come on my fingers. Every time, it’s priceless.” You shake your head at him playfully. You know he's giving you a few more minutes to cool down but you don’t need it. You just need him. You connect his lips with yours again. He starts to move so he is hovering above you again. You feel his hard cock against your leg, silently begging you to let him fuck you. 

“Please Eddie, please fuck me.” You moan against his lips and he nods his head hastily.

He lines himself up with your entrance. He slowly pushes himself in causing both of you to gasp. He grabs onto your waist for stability as he continues to push himself until he’s bottoming out. Once he’s fully in you he starts to move his body with a slow rhythm as you wrap your legs around his torso. 

“Ed-Ed.” You manage to strangle out against the feeling of pure pleasure that is running through your body. He follows your lead by also letting out a spring of curses and your name in quiet pants. 

“Such a slut. You like getting fucked in an old dirty trailer don’t you?”

“Fuck Ed, yes” He also adds as he begins to pick up the pace of his fucking. You look at him. His face is fucked out as his eyes are closed in pleasure. His hair is a little sweaty as his hair sticks to his forehead. And he’s still wearing his stupid club shirt. He’s truly never looked hotter.

“You like getting fucked by the school freak don’t you.” You turn to him and shake your head.

“You’re not a freak ok Munson?” He grins at your loss to the battle.

“You think I want any other girl than you? Could never forget about this pussy. Could never get me to stop fucking your pretty pussy sweetheart.” His words are flustering your mind, sending you further and further down a pit of pleasure. How can this man be real? And fucking you so good?

He’s hitting every right stop inside of you until the knot of pleasure begins to slowly untie again. His pace don’t let up when he’s growing closer though. They don’t become sloppy or disorganized, they become stronger and faster. Like he’s trying to get himself and you closer to orgasm faster than anticipated and it feels so good. You then feel yourself clench around him, coming from the insane pleasure.

“God gonna come, where do you want me to come.” He says in response to the tight clench of your cunt. 

“Chest.” You’re barely able to get out after coming down the waves of your high. He pulls out suddenly and then starts jerking himself off at a quick pace. He still his moments and then throws his head back as you feel a warm sticky substance drip onto your tits. Eddie stays where he is on his knees for a second to catch his breath. He then takes off his shirt and starts to clean you off.

“Charming.” You snicker at his t-shirt being the item he decided to clean you off with. 

[marvelous-harry]

mommy kink anon here! i was thinking about something smutty, maybe some pegging, id love to read what you do with that! xx

+ mommy kink with breastfeeding please!! + Needy h waking reader up and and begging to be full

Good Morning. Harry/Fem!Reader Words: 2.1K Warnings: Mommy!Kink, Sub!Harry, MummyDom!Fem!Reader Summary: After a very nice dream, Harry wakes up very horny and needy.

Letting out a little sigh as I reached up to rub my eyes, I did a big yawn and a stretch before opening my eyes and looking down at Harry. Running my fingers through his hair, I reached for my phone while holding him close.

Harry was suckling on one of my breasts with his eyes closed while he held on loosely to my other boob with his hand.

“You’re awake early, baby,” I whispered as I saw the time on my phone. “Did you have a bad dream?” I asked as he whimpered again. Watching as Harry let my boob go as he shifted on the bed, I smirked as I felt his hard cock graze my thigh.

“Mummy,” he moaned while moving closer to me, rolling his against my thigh as he let out cute little moans.

“Ahh, I see. You didn’t have a bad dream. You had a very good dream,” I teased while stroking my hand down his chest till I got to his cock.

“Mmm, it was about you,” Harry said while looking up at me. I smiled as I could see how lost he was in his subspace, his pupils wide and his eyes looking right at me.

As I moved over on my side, I propped my head up on my arm while I kept stroking his cock slowly. “Tell me about your dream,”

Harry squirmed, his hands fidgeting on his stomach as he tried to resist touching himself. “We were in LA I think and you were playing with me, Mummy,” he explained slowly.

I hummed and let go of his cock, stroking his chest instead. “How was I playing with you, baby?” I asked, smiling when Harry grabbed my hand, holding it with one hand while running his fingers over my lines, knuckles, and bumps. I also noticed how his legs had spread slightly.

“Do I have to say?” Harry asked quietly before pulling his bottom lip in and biting down on it. I cocked my head slightly, my eyebrows furrowing. “Why don’t you want to tell me? You know you can tell Mummy everything,” I told him.

Harry blushed and dropped my hand so he could rub his eyes and cover his face. “Cause you’ll get ideas and tease me, and you tease me enough already,” he pouted.

“Baby!” I pulled his hands down and stroked his cheek. “Tell mummy how she played with you in your dream,” We looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before Harry whimpered, turned over on his side so he could press his face down into the pillow, partially hiding his face.

“Was in the living room,” Harry started quietly as he closed his eyes. I kept silent as I reached down to stroke his bum softly, smirking as he instinctively spread his legs more and pushed back into my hand.

“I was so hard, Mummy, but you wouldn’t let me touch or anything. And you kept touching yourself while I was begging you to let me do it but you wouldn’t,” Harry whimpered. “But I really wanted to, it wasn’t fair, I was asking really nicely too,” he pouted.

“I’m sure you were, baby,” I smiled. “Is this when you woke up?” I asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, Mumma, not yet,” he licked his lips and brought up one of his legs more as I stroked my fingers over his crack. “Y-you made me fuck you with your dick. And I did, was a good boy and made you cum. Mummy, please,” he whimpered as he rolled over completely on his stomach and stuck his bum in the air.

“It makes Mummy so happy to know you were a good boy for her even in your dreams,” I told him as I pressed a finger over his hole. “And that Mummy doesn’t even have to be awake to make you a whimpering, leaky little boy,” The loud whine Harry let out went straight to my pussy, making me even wetter.

“Please, Mummy, want you to fuck me, please! I’ve been a good boy for so long and I didn’t touch myself even though I really wanted to and I didn’t wake you up, I waited like a good boy,” Harry rambled, spreading his legs further apart.

Easing a finger in, I was surprised to feel how open Harry was after our little play session last night. “Must’ve fucked you good for you to be this open still,” I smirked as I pulled back, ignoring the loud whines from Harry.

“Please, so empty. Want you inside me, please Mumma,” he begged as he looked back at me. I patted his back as I got off the bed and headed over to our little dresser. Opening the top drawer, I looked inside with a grin. I had quite a selection of dildos to pick from. Grabbing my favorite harness, a dark purple faux leather one, I was about to reach for a dildo when I heard Harry coming over.

“Mummy? Can I help you put it on? Please?” He asked sweetly as he dropped to his knees, looking up at me even sweeter. I smiled and ruffled his hair before shaking my head.

“No, baby. You just keep your hands to yourself and look pretty,” I told him, grinning as his face dropped, looking very disappointed. “Don’t look so sad when Mummy’s about to fuck you, darling. If you want to help so bad, you can go get a bottle of lube and get on your back on the bed,”

Harry got up right away and rushed to do as he’d been told while I turned back to the selection of dildos and grabbed one of our medium sized ones. Putting it into the harness and securing it, I slipped my legs through the holes, pulling it up to my hips.

“You look so pretty, Mumma,” Harry said as he looked at me from the bed. Wrapping my fingers around the dildo, I gave it a few strokes before walking over to the bed while securing the harness properly.

Harry’s cock twitched against his stomach when he moaned - watching me as I got closer to him with wide eyes. “Faster, please,” he begged, his hand moving for his cock before he caught himself and grabbed onto the bed instead.

Settling on my knees, pressed right up against his crotch, I leaned over him and grabbed his face so I could kiss him fast and hard.

“Please, I need you,” Harry whispered against my lips as he lifted up his legs to his chest. “I don’t want to wait anymore, please,”

Giving his cheek a little kiss, I pushed his head to the side before moving my lips down his neck. Finding a nice little spot, I swiped my tongue over it before putting my teeth gently to his skin and started sucking gently while biting him softly.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned while wrapping his hands around me, digging his fingers into my back. Smirking, I sucked a little harder before biting down on his skin with more force, dragging my teeth over the forming mark before pulling away.

“That should bruise very nicely. Want everyone to see you mine,” I told him as I reached for the lube.

“Mmm, yours, mummy,” Harry licked his lips as he reached up and pressed down on his new hickey.

Pouring some lube onto the dildo, I rubbed it in before putting a little more lube onto my fingers. Bringing my hand down between us, I circled my fingers around his hole. “You ready?” I asked while looking at him.

“Yes! Please, I’m ready, been ready for so long, please,” Harry said loudly, trying to push back onto my fingers.

“You really sure? Like really really sure?” I asked while moving one finger over his hole and pushing ever so slightly.

Harry let out a little sob as he nodded. “Mummy, please!” he cried. “I’m ready, I promise, please. Need you,”

Taking pity on him, I slid two of my fingers into him gently. “There we go, that’s better isn’t it?” I moved my fingers back and forth slowly, spreading them slightly as I did. He looked so breathtakingly beautiful like this. All spread out. Looking so trusting, free, relaxed. Like my Harry.

Pulling my fingers out, I double-checked that the dildo was still well enough lubed up before grasping it. Lining it up with Harry’s hole, I made eye contact with him as I started to slowly push in.

“Fucking, fuck,” Harry moaned as he squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands over his head, pushing on the wall to steady himself. Biting my lip as I pulled back just a little, I moaned as I pushed back in - the tight harness rubbing against my clit so so nicely.

Moving so that I had my hands on either side of him, I hissed as Harry attached his mouth to one of my nipples while fondling my other boob eagerly. “S’ a good boy. Taking Mummy’s cock so well,” I moaned, snapping my hips back and forth.

“Love your cock, Mumma,” Harry mumbled as he moved his mouth over to my other nipple, giving it the same love as the other one.

Putting my hands on his chest, I pushed his head back on the bed so I could straighten up a bit as I started to pound into him quickly. I was so close to cumming, I just needed a little more friction on my aching clit.

“Can I cum, please? Please, need to cum,” Harry begged as the speed and the force behind my thrusts got faster and stronger.

“You know the rules, baby. Mummy cums first,” I panted, giving him a slight smirk as he grabbed onto his legs, holding the spread open for me as I let my eyes close. God, I was so close. Holding onto Harry’s hips tightly, I did one hard thrust, grinding my pussy against the harness - moving the dildo even further into Harry as I finally came with a breathy moan.

“Fuck,” I chuckled as I opened my eyes again and looked down at Harry. His cock was dripping and looked so hard, desperate for some touch and release. “Come here,” I said and leaned down, meeting him halfway before pulling him into a hard, needy kiss.

“You want to cum, baby boy?” I asked as I started moving my hips slowly again. “Fuck, yes, mummy, please,” Harry replied quickly before giving me another kiss. “Please,”

I straightened back up again, grasping his hips tightly once more. “Alright, you can touch yourself,” I told him while I started to fuck him fast, hard and deep again.

Harry’s hand had moved to his cock as soon as the words had come out of my mouth, moving his hand fast as he moaned and whined.

“Gonna cum for mummy, baby? Look so pretty with mummy’s dick in you,” I panted as I made sure to thrust in as deep as I could every time.

“Mumma!” Harry gasped loudly as he arched up into his hand and shot his cum all over his chest.

I continued to do a few smaller, slower thrusts as Harry let go off his cock and dropped his legs down on the bed, resting over my thighs. “Good boy,” I murmured as I started to gently pull out of him. I stroked his thigh as he whimpered and whined. “Shhh, it’s okay,” I told him softly. Shuffling off the bed, I quickly loosened the harness and let it slide down before I got back up on the bed.

Crawling over to Harry, I kissed him softly while pressing down on his hickey with my thumb. “I love you, baby,” I whispered against his lips while stroking his cheek. “Love you, mummy,” Harry said sleepily back. “Nap?” he asked between our little kisses. “It’s like 9 in the morning,” I laughed quietly. He just pushed his bottom lip out and whimpered.

“Alright, alright. Get the blankets,” I sighed and gave him one more kiss. Watching with a smile as Harry rolled over and grabbed the blankets off the floor, I opened my arms for him. Harry grinned as he snuggled into my arms, covering us both with blankets.

“Mmmm, sticky cum cuddles. My favorite,” I grimaced before letting out a loud laugh as Harry blew a raspberry against my neck. “Go to sleep!” I said as I gave his hair a little tug. “Yes Mummy,” Harry replied happily.

Wrapping my arms tighter around him, I closed my eyes. “Brat,” I whispered. When Harry let out a little fake snore, I grinned and hugged him tighter. I was in love with an idiot.

[ramp-it-up]

The One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warmings:  18+, Minors DNI. Curate your own experience. Cursing, drinking, running, a raging argument in an established relationship, name calling, taunting, drunken raging, Twitter. SMUT, explicit, rough sex, fingering, tit slapping, orgasm denial, spitting, oral sex (mostly female receiving). Also, I’m sleepy. 😴

A/N: Not proofread. Also, I know very little about Chris and Jenny, and have no real opinion about their relationship. I made up the scenario about what happened there for the purposes of the story. THANKS FOR 400 FOLLOWERS TONIGHT! 🥳🎉🎊🍾👏🏽🎈

This fic is based on the following ask:

Anonymous asked:

Imagine idea :

Chris is drunk after a fight with the reader. He was On Twitter and saw some pics with Jenny and when the reader comes in he screams at her and says that Jenny was the one and not the reader. The reader get sad because she was always kind of insecure about the age gap with Chris. The day after he didn’t know what he says and she don’t say anything because she got the feeling that he was right. But one thing both didn’t noticed that Chris was drunk calling Scott and he knows everything Chris says and drive to Chris to give him a good clamp ahahhaha Chris was drunk and Just mentioned her name because he saw a post with Jenny.

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

It had been the perfect day.

You slept in, then had a late brunch at home. 

You saw a message from Chris’ former co-star, Heidi, light up his phone that he’d plugged in on the kitchen counter when you two were tidying up.

You wondered why he was texting the bitch even after you told him that she wanted him. And after he agreed to cut off contact out of respect for you.

Heated, you didn’t even look around before you picked it up, put in his code and read a string of friendly, if not borderline flirty, texts.

Chris walked in the kitchen, caught you, and yelled at you for being in his phone. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“Exactly! What is going on, Chris. I thought we talked about this?” 

Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, it’s a big fucking deal.”

You threw his phone on the marble countertop, which caused Chris to pick it up to see if it was cracked. Your temper was too much.

“We’re just friends! She knows we’re together, y/n!” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“And I know women, Chris. That doesn’t fucking matter to her. Sometimes you’re so oblivious. Or act like you are.” You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“I know you want to leave me for someone more glamorous and beautiful. Someone who will put up with your shit, everyone the media says you’re fucking. Go ahead and just do it!”

Chris’s temper was really rising now. You could tell as the red creeped up his chest to his neck. 

“Stop fucking saying that!” Chris was screaming now. “Is that what you want? To end it? Because you don’t have to make me do it. If you want to leave, just leave.”

You said shit like that a lot. And it scared and angered him. He wanted to know if you were trying to make him break up with you so you would be free.

“Why are you being such a fucking…” Chris stopped himself. He knew better than to call you out of your name.

Your head almost spun around. You smiled evilly. 

“Go ahead, say what you wanna say, Chris. Or are you scared?”

Chris exploded. “A fucking BITCH.”  He was shaking because you went there.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not fucking anyone else!”

Chris lost it and punched the wall, making a hole in the drywall and definitely injuring his hand.

You just stood there with your mouth open and in silence. You went toward him to look at his hand, and he just put both of them up, backing away from you and going to the liquor cabinet.

He retreated to the deck with a bottle of Jameson’s. He wanted to dull the pain, in his hand, and in his heart. He hated when you hurt each other.

You understood that you both crossed the line, so you let him be. You went upstairs to change into your running clothes to get out and clear your head.

Chris settled on a deck lounger, started drinking from the bottle and got online, which is never a good thing, but he needed something to distract him. He started reading tweets about himself, and following a thread of Chris + Jenny stans.

The more he drank, the more he started reminiscing.

There were good times. He was happy. Mostly. He thought she was the one. Sometimes. But she broke his heart. He was just a rebound. 

Her handsome arm candy.

Then he thought of you. His heart melted; you really loved him. He was sure of it. But loving him was hard. He realized that you felt the same way about him that he felt about Jenny. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Insecure. 

And you had good reason to be. Everything you’d said about women coming after him was true. But what you didn’t realize is that since he’d met you other women didn’t matter to him. 

You were the one, not Jenny.

Chris began to get melancholy. He’d fucked up. You were nothing but good to him and you just asked him to respect you and listen to your feelings. He’d ignored that. 

Shit, why did he yell at you like that?  

He went to erase Heidi’s contact and block her number. He was confident that you were never going to throw him away like Jenny did. She was the one who’d hurt him. Not you. Never you. He recognized that you wouldn’t ever hurt him on purpose.

His mind was racing with how to apologize when you came back. He was an idiot. The pain in his heart was replaced with regret and his hand had slowed to a dull throb.

But then 30 minutes turned to 3 hours, and by the time you got back, the bottle was empty and Chris’s eyes were red with rage and worry. 

Maybe you were just like Jenny after all.

--------

You ran, and then went to get some coffee. You ran into Shelby at the cafe and distracted yourself with mindless chatter, then walked back. You were ready to apologize by the time you opened the door.

When he heard the door, Chris picked up his phone and met you in the living room. He was obviously shitfaced.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN!?” 

Chris’s voice boomed throughout the house and you jumped. Then you just stood there, shocked at his outburst. 

“The hell are you talking to me like that?” 

He was unsteady on his feet. He leaned toward you, and you could tell that someone was spinning the room for him.

“I don’t want it to be you!” 

He had to let you know that he knew that you wouldn’t be the one to hurt him. Chris pointed his phone at you. 

“You’re not the one. Jenny’s the only one. Not you! Not ever you!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. But then again you could. It was what you were afraid of. You were head over heels. And Chris could find someone on his level. Like Jenny.

“Well, Fuck You very much, Chris.” 

You brushed your tears away and ran past him up the stairs to the bedroom, locking the door and crying your eyes out. You got out your suitcase.

----

Chris started up after you, calling your name, and then suddenly needed to duck in the downstairs bathroom to throw up. 

He tried to make it up the stairs and had to sit down on the floor near the bottom. Then, he needed to lay down just for a minute.

The next thing Chris knew, it was morning, and he woke up to a pounding on the door and in his head. He rolled over on the floor, and something stabbed him in the side.

Groaning, he reached down and saw your keys to his house, his cars, and his life, all on the Tiffany heart keychain he’d given them to you. He was staring at them, confused, when Scott opened the door with his key.

“There he is. My brother. The fuck up.”

Chris groaned again, sat up on the bottom stair and held his head. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nevermind me. It’s not often I get to say that, only when you publish your dick pic to the internet or you RUN OFF THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO YOU!”

Chris winced when Scott yelled, his head a pounding mass of meat wrapped in fuzzy cotton. 

He didn’t understand why he was being tortured and he didn’t understand why his hand hurt.  He looked at it, all bruised up, and the keys inside it.

“Just tell me, Scott. Why are you here?”

Scott leaned up against the door. 

“Did you know you drunk dialed me last night?” 

Chris looked up at Scott, and his face was a sight as his brother told him what he’d said to you.

“Fuuuuuck me!” He put his head in his hands again. 

“I don’t know if she ever will again,” Scott joked, but Chris didn’t laugh. 

“I called her after you apparently passed out and wouldn't pick up your phone.  She was ready to catch an early morning flight, but I convinced her to sleep in today and leave tomorrow.”

Chris moved his hands down from his eyes and stared out the patio doors, trying to think.

“I put her up in the Four Seasons, on your dime of course.  Room 6145. Penthouse. Could be pretty romantic. If she were in that kind of mood.”

Chris looked up at Scott, smiled weakly, jumped up and hugged him, then made for the door. Scott jumped in front of him.

“Trust me, you’ll want to get some water and coffee in you, and shower and brush your teeth. You look and smell like shit.”

“Right.” Chris nodded, flexing his hand. He could still move it. He was glad it wasn’t broken. “Thanks, bro.”

“No problem.” Scott walked into the bathroom as Chris went to the kitchen, groaning when he saw the hole in the wall. He’d have to ask Scott to get it fixed before you saw it again. 

If he could convince you to come back.

----

It was 11 am, and Scott had verified that you were still in the room. Chris just stood there, nervous and terrified that you were just going to be done with him.

Room service came and headed toward your door. Chris waved them down and when they saw his face, they stopped in their tracks, shocked.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?”

----

You climbed out of the wonderful deep jetted tub, having soaked until the water got cold and your fingers were wrinkled. You pulled on the plush Four Seasons terry cloth robe that was provided with the suite.

You felt calmer than last night, and after some sleep and relaxation, you realized that you’d been a fool to think that Chris would want you forever like you thought.

It was for the best that you leave and start over, to focus on your consulting business and yourself for a while.

You opened the door with a smile on your face for the attendant, and you let them into the room, your back turned to the door while they brought the cart in. You turned back around and there was Chris.

You grew heated, and your heart began to race while the attendant scurried out. Chris’s face was a welcome sight, but you were still angry.

There you were, looking so beautiful, curls tied up in your favorite silk scarf, cocoa skin radiant in a white fluffy robe.  You should have been comfortable, but your eyes were wide and scared.

He’d done this to you.

“Fuck, y/n… I…”

You interrupted him. 

“You’ve got some mutha fuckin nerve. How dare you just run up in here, using that fucking face,” you flung your hand up, “using who you are to get into my room. How did you even know where…?”  

Your mouth dropped open at the realization of what Scott had done. You turned on your heel to get your things. You didn’t care that you were naked under your robe. You didn’t care that you still loved Chris. You were out. This second.

Chris moved to block you from entering the bedroom of the suite. You tried to push past him, all 5’ 4” of you versus 6 feet of him.

“Move, Chris!” 

You glared up at him, your body responding to him in ways you weren’t prepared to admit. You were betrayed by your pussy.

“I just want you to listen to me.  Then you can leave, stay, do whatever you want. Just hear me out.”

You and him physically was always the shit. His arms across his chest did things to you  But you kept mean mugging him, making him hard for you. 

You stepped back and said, “Okay.  You have 10 minutes.  Then I’m out, Chris.”

You paced back to the couch in the living room of the suite, watching him warily.

Chris paced in front of you, making it inevitable that you follow his lean form back and forth across the carpet. You noticed that his hand was bandaged and that he kept flexing it. 

You hoped it wasn’t broken. No matter what, you cared what happened to him. You would always love him. Even if it was the end of your relationship.

“First of all, I’m sorry. My anger got the best of me, and I was violent and that is never acceptable.  Even though I didn’t touch you, it’s not ok, and I know it was intimidating. I take responsibility.”

He stopped and looked at you, you melted a little, but you didn’t give any outward sign. Being a business owner taught you a mean poker face. 

But the shirt he was wearing made his true blue eyes pop and you could see a hint of his chain around his neck under the fitted henley.

You suppressed a shiver at the memory of the things you did to have that chain and medallion wave in your face, to have it clenched between your teeth as Chris had his way with you, and you with him.

You focused on him, pointedly looking at your watch. Chris’ anxiety peaked when he saw that.

He stepped toward you and thought that he recognized the look in your eyes.  He was almost sure that you still wanted him, sure that you still cared.  He could only hope as he came closer.

“And then I started drinking. And while you were gone, I came across some posts about me and Jenny. And it took me back there.”

At those words, you crossed your arms and averted your eyes, defenses up. You didn’t want to hear about how much he loved Jenny.

Then, Chris swiftly moved to sit on his haunches, becoming eye level with you.  

“And I realized that she never really loved me. Not like you loved me.”  

Chris speaking about your love in the past tense made you a little angry and you stared him in the eyes. 

It was just the reaction he hoped for. Your attitude. He loved it. He hid a smirk so that he could continue, but you saw the glimmer in his eyes. And you rolled yours.

Chris then picked up the sash to your robe and started playing with it, your eyes drawn to his thick fingers. You didn’t know why that was getting you hot, but it was. You opened your mouth to breathe.

Chris’s voice cracked when he said. “And to me she was the mountaintop. Another, different kind of conquest. But I realized that I never really loved her. Not like I love you.”

Present tense.

Now you were looking into his eyes, about to fall into them. Shit. He had you hooked. But then you remembered, and drew back.

“Yeah, I know what I said, but what I was trying to express was that I know it could never be you to hurt me like Jenny did. That I didn’t want you to hurt me like she did. Not when I’ve thought about forever…” 

He moved even closer. “I mean forever, forever, with you.”

All of a sudden you couldn’t breathe. Chris got on his knees.

“I want to be in this position again with you one day. One day soon. But not like this. I don’t want it to be to try to get you back. I want us to be good.” 

He sighed, pensive. “I want you to be smiling and happy, and even have our families there.”

You don’t know how your face looked at that moment, but Chris started smiling at you. You were so beautiful to him right now.

“I was drunk, and I couldn’t use my words correctly. I yelled and I screamed and I punched the wall. I fucked up and may have lost you forever, but I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” 

You felt yourself get emotional, but you tried to calm down.

“I’m just so fucking scared that you will get tired of all the bullshit that comes with me and leave… and I absolutely wouldn’t blame you. But there’s no one else, y/n.  No one else can compare…”

“Chris…” 

You raised your hand to his face, eyes searching his. You could tell he was being honest.

Chris grabbed your hand and started kissing your palm.

“So.” He looked at you with those eyes. “Is this goodbye?…” His lips were giving you shivers. “Or hello again? Can we start over?”

Chris trailed his lips from your palm, to the pulse point at your wrists and lingered there, licking the delicate skin. Then he moved up your arm to the opening in the robe. 

He pushed his torso in between your legs and leaned into your neck, inhaling the lavender bath oil that was your favorite. And his, too. 

He moaned as you leaned your head to the side, giving him access. But he didn't just want the physical. He breathed into the shell of your ear. 

“Please come home, baby…”

You just moaned as he started sucking right below your ear, your spot. Desire took over for Chris when he heard your sounds.

“Fuck it. I can tell that you still want me. If this is goodbye, then I’m going to make it worth your time.”

Your back arched and Chris palmed your bounteous ass over the robe, pulling you flush to his crotch.  He smiled as he felt the warmth coming from you.

“You’re so fucking warm, babe. Are you wet, too?  Are you wet for me? Do you want my cock? I mean, do you want your thick, fat, cock to fuck you babe?” 

Chris was kissing down your neck into the cleavage that the robe was revealing with each sentence as you opened your legs. Your pussy was quivering for him, but you still didn’t answer him.

Chris looked up at you with those eyes and pulled on the robe sash. It fell open and he looked down and bit his lip, taking in your warm skin, lovely breasts, and elegant pussy, with the manicured triangle of hair kept like he preferred, and offered up for his taking. 

You still looked like his girl, and he smiled as he looked up into your eyes. But he had to be certain. He lowered his head, keeping eye contact and descended toward one small hard mountain peak, kissing it gently, tentatively, while watching you.

You were mesmerized as his tongue peeked out and licked it, then he opened his lips and enveloped it, moistening it with his pink lips. 

The look on your face compelled him, and he fully enveloped your nipple and started sucking roughly, still keeping eye contact. You were determined not to close your eyes, but it was difficult. You bit your lip to stay still.

Chris’s bandaged hand was dangerous, however, and it came up to pinch and roll your other nipple. You arched into his hand as he became rougher and rougher. 

He switched nipples and hands and his saliva made your breast that much more pliable and sensitive. He slapped it, and then rubbed it with the rough bandage, making you cry out and moan as his other hand trailed down your body to your cunt.

“This pussy will still be mine, even if you leave me.” He smiled cockily while looking down on it. 

He looked at you, before lifting his hand to his mouth, looking straight into your eyes and spitting on his fingers before bringing them down to your cunt.

“I think, that if even if you leave and  move back to Houston, and I come to town, that if I I call you, even if you’re with someone else, you would meet me in a parking lot and let me fuck you over the hood of my rental car.” 

He was faintly tracing your pussy lips and instantly your control was gone. You were sopping wet, because of his words and because of the knowledge that what he was saying was the truth.

“Oh,” was all you could say. You were adding to the wetness of the saliva on his fingers.

Chris smiled and tilted his head as his two thick digits breached your opening. He had his answer as you threw your head back and let him finger fuck you while he rolled and slapped and pinched your nipple.

His thumb was lightly brushing your clit and you wanted so much more.  Chris could sense that and he pressed down roughly on it, causing an electric jolt up your body, which you keened for, arching your body into his hand.

Chris moved his hand from your breast to your neck and applied the pressure that you wanted and needed and that he was expert at while he stuffed another finger inside you and circled your clit with his thumb. 

You floated among the clouds as you came like fireworks, and all over his hand.  

He watched you come undone, and come down, rubbing his hard cock through his pants with one hand while he sucked your juices off his fingers, releasing each with a loud pop.  When you opened your eyes, you smiled.

You pulled his hand and started licking yourself off him, flattening your tongue against his palm. 

“I forgive you Chris. I forgave you when you conned your way into my room, you ass.” 

You smiled against his hand as he groaned, relieved and desperate for you.

“But you still have some work to do.”

“What do you want? Anything.”  

Now Chris was breathless, anticipating payback.

“First, you need to take those damn clothes off.”

He quickly moved to take off his shirt, and then stood up to take off his pants.  You smirked as hs cock sprang up immediately when he peeled them down. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

Chris caught your look. 

“What? I wanted to be prepared.”  He chuckled softly while pumping his cock lightly, expecting to immediately fuck you.

He moved toward you. But you quickly moved off the couch and into the bedroom, forcing him to follow you, and his dick, into the other room.

You sat on the edge of the bed as he remained standing. 

“What do you need, babe?”

You reached for his cock and tugged it toward you, opening your mouth and deep throating it, wetting it from root to tip and then spit on it. Chris moaned as you started to stroke. Then you stopped.

“I need you to jack off for me.” 

“Ugh! You’re so fucking nasty. I love you.”

Chris instantly started where you left off. This didn’t seem like work.

You leaned back on your elbows, watching him, and licking your lips.

“And I need for you not to stop, and not to come. Until I tell you.” 

You looked him in the eye and that was when Chris knew he was doomed.  A chill ran down his spine as you reached down and started playing with your pussy.

“Fuck!”

You looked so damn good.  He licked his lips and stroked harder and faster, his balls drawing up already. 

“Shit, y/n.”

You watched his eyes, and got wetter at his blown pupils and glazed look. 

“You like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”  

His voice was broken and desperate. He fisted his cock, and held his balls, trying to stave off the inevitable. 

You turned around, got on your knees and reached back between your legs and ran your fingers up and down your slit.

“How about that?”

“Goddamnit!” 

Chris grunted as he tried to hold it in. You were a goddess. He licked his lips. Wanting to taste you. So he did. 

He dove in, tongue competing with your fingers to command your slit. You finally gave in to his expert mouth and he savored your salty goodness.

“Fuck, Chris, you better still be…”

“I am. Christ.” 

He was leaking in his hand, but he had it under control. Barely.

Chris stopped eating you out for a second, grabbed your ass cheek with one hand, stretched you open, spit on your tighter hole, and watched it slide down your satin lips to drip onto the bed. 

His warm saliva made your pussy quiver and he watched it lovingly. Then he dove in again.

He sped up his movements with his other hand and you could hear the smooth skin of his dick sliding on his palm while his tongue did forbidden things to you.

“Ffffffuuckkkkkkk! Chrisssss.” 

You came, burying your scream in the mattress, and even harder than before. You couldn’t believe that he’d turned the tables on you.

Chris ate you out through your orgasm, holding you down with one hand like it was nothing. 

He was god of war, love, and sex, all at once. 

Fuck Captain America.

You came again, almost immediately.

When he was done with his meal, he let you go, wiped his mouth with the back of his free hand and stepped back.

“Fuck, what do you want me to do? I can’t take it much longer…” Chris’s sexy growling voice got to you. 

“What do you wanna do, Chris? How do you want to take me, Daddy?”  Chris’s cock jumped in his hand, he slapped your ass, and watched it jiggle.

Chris entered your wet, wet pussy, and marvel how if felt like it was choking the life out of him.  He had to stop moving, or he would burst almost immediately.

“How the fuck are you so wet, but so tight.  It’s like a fucking vice grip, geeze.” 

You both waited and felt it jump inside you, then Chris reached down, grabbed you by the neck and pulled you upright and flush to his chest.  

One hand clutched your throat and the other arm hooked under your leg, allowing him to piston up into you upright while your other leg dangled, your big toe barely touching the ground.

Chris held you and fucked up into you, grunting each time the large mushroom cap head of his cock was stuffed into your pussy. 

“Ugh, gatdamn it, you were thinking of leaving, ugh, you wanted to leave this, mmmmmm, this dick that, ugh, that fucks you like this?” 

Chris’s mouth was near your ear, which was on his shoulder because your head had fallen back on his chest. He was using you like a sex toy as he fucked you senseless. 

His dick slicked in and out of you with obscene wetness, Chris somehow lifting you up and slipping completely out of you and pounding back into you with force.

“Chris!!!” 

You started shaking, your center of gravity being where you and he were connected.

He fucked you even harder and faster, chasing his release, but he maneuvered his hand to find your clit, refusing to come before you. 

“Fuck! You know you were going to miss this cock that your sweet cunt fits… like…  a …mutha …fuckin…  glove!” 

"Ahhhh!" 

You screamed as you fluttered around his cock. He could take only so much before he had to shut his eyes and bite down on your collarbone. Chris’s legs were trembling now.

"Take all of it!." He was hitting your spot.  "How does it feel?" 

Although the feeling was intense, you tried to speak. 

"L-l-l-like h-heav-v-v-ennnnn." 

The sound of your voice made his release start to build. 

With each of his thrusts, the sweet tightness began to build until you came, screaming and moaning in pleasure.

“Oh shiiiiitttttt!”  Chris exploded inside your tight wet cunt. He wanted to fill you up like never before. He wanted to put his baby in you and tie you forever to him. That made his balls empty.

He fell back on the bed, with you on top of him, slipping out of you and depositing you on the bed beside him.

Chris couldn't help but smile as you both came down.  He was made for this.

Chris put his hand on your cheek, brushing your beautiful lips with his thumb. You smiled under his attention into his sea blue eyes.

“I love you.” You grinned. 

“God, I love you.”  You sobered up, taking in the weight of his words.

“Is it weird that I want to get you pregnant before we’re married?”

You made a face.

“Who says I want to marry you?”

Chris scooped you in his arms and rolled you over on top of him.

“You don’t want to marry me? You’d say no if I asked?” 

You held in a giggle.

“Nah. I’m gonna move back to Houston and marry someone else so you can come in town and fuck me over the hood of your rental car. That sounds hot as fuck.”

Chris released an anxious breath.

You took his head in your hands.

“Easy now. Ask what you want to ask.” Chris started to speak. You put your finger over his mouth.  

“When you want to ask it.” You looked into his eyes again. “I won’t break your heart.”

Chris smiled at you and said, “I know.” He kissed you. 

And when you pulled away, breathless, he told you, “You’re the One.”

----------- Read Part Two: It Takes Two

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[angryschnauzer]

Pitching Tents

Summary: Ooof... *insert breathless spongebob meme here* Okay, so your co-stars Chris and Henry invite you along for a long weekend camping trip, and in the wilds of nature they let their inhibitions be set free.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader x Henry Cavill (MFM)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Oral Sex (female receiving), Oral Sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, threesome, spit roasts, fingering, grinding, handjobs, vaginal creampie, sloppy seconds, cockwarming, sex outdoors, anal sex, unprotected anal sex, anal creampie, anal sloppy seconds, degrading talk, zero inhibitions, no refractory period, aftercare, crack fic, utter filth, you. have. been. warned., and the worlds best camping table.

Only the finest free range, organic typos, allowed to run wild and free.

I do not run a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, you will get an alert every time i post something new. Masterlist got too big for tumblr, so past works can also be found at angryschnauzerwrites or on my AO3.

A/N: Don’t @ me yelling about RPF. This is utter fantasy. You know that, i know that. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. However i do feel i have included enough of each actor to satisfy both sets of fans. Enjoy the filth you dirty sluts.

Pitching Tents

Sitting in the dressing room having your makeup removed you laughed and joked with Chris and Henry, your co-stars. Finally you were prosthetic free and your FX makeup artist left, leaving you to listen as the two men chatted away;

“So all set for our camping trip this weekend Chris?” Henry asked as he wiped off fake blood from his cheek

“Can’t fucking wait Henry, three whole days of beers, fishing, and doing fuck all” Chris turned to you and smiled; “So, whata’ you doin this weekend?”

Sighing you took a sip of water;

“Probably just bingeing Netflix with a family sized bag of chocolate”

“Why don’t you come camping with us?” 

Henry suggested lightly, and at his suggestion your head snapped up;

“Really? I’ve never camped in my life! I’ll just cramp your style for your boys weekend. I’ve never even pitched a tent”

“Oh don’t worry, me and Hen have got all the equipment you could need for that” Chris assured you, but you missed the sly wink he shot to Henry.

-

The campsite was beautiful. On private land it was amazing what being one of Hollywoods biggest stars could get you into, and as Chris had pulled his truck over the gravel both you and Henry were impressed with the stunning location. You’d had little to do as they put the tent up, and as the sun had started to set the beers had been cracked open and the campfire glowed. Whether it was the fresh air, the beer, or the busy work schedule you all had, you were turning in just as the sun had fully set. Curling up underneath the pile of blankets and quilts that’d been thrown on the air mattress, you were quickly fast asleep before either of the men had climbed in beside you.

-

The bright morning sunlight shone in through the thin fabric of the tent waking you, and as you pulled yourself from sleep you smiled at the two men seemingly still fast asleep either side of you. As much as you wanted to stay in the warmth of the blankets you needed to pee, so carefully and silently you pulled yourself out of the cocoon and slipped a discarded flannel shirt on, unsure if it was Henry’s or Chris’s, either way it swamped you and covered your panties and cami you’d worn to sleep in.

As soon as they’d heard the zipper of the tent close Chris had cracked an eye open to glance at Henry, a smirk on his face as he was greeted with an identical grin.

“Do you think she’ll go for it?” Chris whispered

“Yeah, you’ve seen her eyeing each of us, i think she’ll be up for some fun”

“You ready?”

“Dude, i have woken up with the biggest morning wood” Henry grinned

“Me too… so how’re we gonna do this?”

“I’m thinking the sleepy roll and cuddlespoon method ”

“Yeah that’ll work” Chris paused as he heard your heavy footfalls approaching the tent, winking at Henry before the two of them feigned sleep.

With your teeth chattering from the chilly morning air you reluctantly pulled the flannel shirt off before silently sliding back under the blankets, shivering as your body attempted to warm up until suddenly a warm chest pressed to your back and a heavy arm was draped over your waist. Your eyes sprang open and breath caught in your throat as you processed Henry spooning behind you, quiet snores coming from his lips. Before you could think any more on what the man behind you was doing, Chris let out a sleepy sigh and rolled towards you, his face resting on your chest as his legs pressed against your own. With your lower limbs crushed between both mens you shifted a little, lifting one leg slightly only for Chris to hum in appreciation as his hand rested on your thigh and lifted your knee over his hip.

For just a few minutes as the shock and tension had subsided you relaxed into the warmth of being sandwiched between them, but as the temperature started to rise under the blankets you shifted and started to wriggle, and that’s when you felt the first one. The first nudge as Chris pressed himself to your core and you could feel what the internet had lost their collective minds for. A rush of breath left your body as you fought the dilemma between a friend unknowingly grinding against you with the feeling of just how good it felt. With just the thin cotton of your panties and his boxers separating your bodies, you screwed your eyes shut and ignored the guilty feelings for just a moment as Chris rubbed his impressive hard on the length of your slit. When one particular rub grazed against your clit you let out a gasp and without realising arched your back, pushing your ass into Henry and discovering he was having the same bodily issue Chris was. A sleepy murmur greeted you as Henry’s hot breath danced on your ear, before he pressed closer and you felt his fat dick rut into the crease of your ass.

Was either man aware of what the other was doing? Should you say something? As these thoughts plagued your mind they were interrupted as two pairs of lips started to find their way around your body, Henry softly kissing your neck as Chris hooked one finger into the neckline of your cami to allow him to gently suck a hardened nipple into his mouth.

“Oh fuck…”

Two sleepy ‘hmm’s replied, bodies starting to move in unison as they all sought friction, and when you felt Henry’s warm palm smooth over your thigh and ass you let out a groan as he dipped his hand between your legs from behind and his fingers found their way beneath the elastic of your underwear;

“Chris, she’s fucking soaked”

“Lemme feel…”

Suddenly another hand slid down your stomach and the front of your panties, an appreciative moan rumbling from the Bostonian’s chest as he used your slick juices to coat his finger before rubbing circles again your clit;

“So she is… that’s good, gonna need to be real wet for us Babe… Hen, how many fingers you got in her?”

“Two at the moment” the Brit said as he pumped those two thick digits into your velvet cavern; “She’s so fucking tight…”

“Give her another one, need to get her ready”

You felt Henry pull his hand out before adjusting his fingers, only to feel the delicious stretch and burn as he carefully inserted three of his thick digits into your tight entrance;

“You ready?” he asked Chris as he worked his fingers in and out of you, and with a fluid movement Henry had pulled his fingers from you and your panties down your thighs. Chris’s hands were on your hips, lifting you to straddle his waist before he pulled his boxers down and positioned his dripping cock at your entrance, waiting for you to take the final step.

With your fingers splayed against the hard plains of his chest you sank down on him, feeling the wide head of his cock split your walls apart, the stretch almost too much despite Henry’s fingers working you open just seconds before;

“Oh fuck… Chris…”

“That’s it Babe, ride me, let me feel you fuck yourself on my cock”

Letting your head fall back you closed your eyes as you started to ride Chris, lost in the moment until you heard the sound of Henry spitting on his hand. Looking over you saw how he had pushed the blankets back and was now fisting his angry red dick, watching you ride his friend. Whilst continuing to ride Chris you reached for Henry who wriggled close enough that you could wrap your hand around his hot shaft. He sat up and kissed you, his tongue pushing into your mouth and dancing against your own before he sat back with a contented sigh just as Chris started to fuck up into you;

“Feel so fucking good Babe”

“Chris… oh my god…”

“Gonna fill you up with my cum, wanna see it dripping out of you before it’s Henry’s turn”

At the mention of his name Henry grunted, licking his lips;

“Mmm sloppy seconds… gonna need it to fit me in that tight pussy”

As Chris’s thrusts started to get sloppy you rubbed at your clit, your orgasm washing over you before you felt Chris push his hips up and stutter, the twitching of his dick deep inside you prolonging your orgasm.

Only vaguely aware of Henry moving behind you, it was when his strong hands grasped your hips and lifted you off of Chris did you let out a squeal of surprise, before he set you down on your hands and knees and ran a thumb through your folds;

“Chris, you gotta see this”

With a groan Chris moved, looking at his thick white seed dripping from you before he settled back down beside you, arms behind his head. 

Henry pressed his hand to your shoulders, pushing you down as he settled behind you, swiping the bulbous crown of his fat dick through your come soaked lips. You felt that notch as he lined himself up, and with a grunt he slowly pushed into you. 

“Oh fuck…” Henry cursed; “From the way Chris fucked you i thought you’d be loose, but fucking hell you’re tight…”

You were panting with the overwhelming feeling of being stuffed full by Henry, your words punctuated by breaths;

“You’re… the… one… hung… like… a… fucking… horse… OH FUCKING HELL… SO GOOD”

Where Chris had length and an impressive curve, Henry had girth and a lot of it, the sucking sound of him plugging your pussy from behind filling the tent and audible over your yelps and moans. 

“Love it when a girl is loud” Henry grunted from behind you, his hips digging roughly into your his as he punctuated each smooth thrust with a hard and deep halt, before doing it again. In front of you Chris moved, swinging one leg over your shoulders until your face was inches from his crotch and you felt his knuckle underneath your chin;

“Open up Babe”

Looking up you took in the sight of Chris sitting in front of you, his chest patterned with tattoos and coarse hair, his stomach firm yet soft now he no longer had to push his body to the limits of dehydration for Marvel. His dick was hardening as he watched Henry defile your body, and as he cupped your chin he guided your mouth open, gasping as your tongue and lips sucked on the mushroom head. 

Just then Henry started to thrust in harder, his hips harsh as they snapped back and forth and you were reminded that even though he was 250lbs of solid muscle he had the grace of a ballet dancer with his agility. With each push it sent you forwards to take just a little more of Chris into your mouth, before both men were grunting as they spit roasted you like a spit roasted pig at a county fair.

Your senses were overwhelmed, from touch to taste to smell to sound, the atmosphere in the tent was overwhelming and your mind could barely process it through the pleasure that was coursing through your veins. Henry was pulling a fierce orgasm from you and fucking you straight through it, Chris getting close as he cupped his balls and with a groan unloaded thick streams of cum into your mouth. You swallowed what you could but there was so much some dripping down your chin with a steady trail of spit. 

As Chris slipped out of your mouth Henry also pulled out, his strong arms flipping you over until he was on top of you, his mouth catching your own for a fierce kiss, no doubt able to taste Chris on your tongue but he was unbothered by that as he speared your body again. He widened his stance, his legs wide on the mattress as he ground his length into you, and you were completely surrounded by him as his teeth found your neck and he found your pressure points;

“That’s is Darling, let me feel you fall apart for me… felt so good squeezing my cock just a few moments ago, you can do it again, you feel so good…” he praised you as his hips worked serpent like magic between your thighs, the slow grind and push of his pelvic bone against your clit making you roar as your orgasm coursed through your body. You were thankful that the peak of your orgasm had passed when Henry finally reached his peak as to watch the man come undone was a sight of beauty; head thrown back, his mouth open as he let out a groan-come-howl, and you felt the violent spurts of him filling your womb with his cum.

When he was finally spent he bent down and kissed you, tongues and teeth before with a groan he pulled out and rolled to your side;

“You were amazing Darling”

“She was… and is” Chris added as he rolled towards you a kissed you softly, his beard tickling your face and making you smile; “I don’t know about you guys but i’m fucking starving now”

-

Having claimed the flannel shirt you’d worn earlier, that was all you wore as you curled up in a camping chair as Chris lit a campfire and started to make breakfast. Henry approached holding a steaming mug of coffee for you which you eagerly took, your teeth chattering as you started to regret not putting more clothing on;

“Cold? Scoot up and sit on my lap, i’ll keep you warm”

Quickly standing you let Henry take a seat in the camping chair before you sat on his lap, his body like a furnace even though he was just in sweats and a t-shirt. Sitting sideways on him he had one strong arm around your back, the other casually resting on your bare thigh as your legs were swung over the other side of the chair. 

You sat and relished the warmth from his body, the three of you chatting about work when you felt Henry’s hand slide between your thighs. Glancing at his face his attention was trained on Chris, his poker face only cracking when you saw the corner of his mouth tug up in a tiny smirk, glancing at you as Chris turned away and cocking an eyebrow as his fingers found your slit. 

“Shh” he quietly whispered as he slid two fingers into your soaked channel as his thumb found your clit, before he nonchalantly returned to the conversation with Chris. Soon you were writhing on his lap and you could feel the insistent nudge of his cock hard against your ass, so when Chris disappeared to the truck to grab stuff from the chiller Henry grinned at you;

“I need to be inside you… quickly…”

You stood and he pulled his sweats down just enough so his angry red cock sprang free, pulling you to sit on his lap, your legs closed as you stood between his outstretched thighs, and you slid down onto him, spearing your narrow channel with his girth. Chris wandered back holding the supplies;

“Eggs? Breakfast sausage?”

You heard Henry snort back a peel of laughter, and Chris paused, frowning;

“What are you two up to?”

“Chris, she’s already getting her breakfast sausage…” Henry lifted the shirt you wore and you parted your thighs, showing Chris what he was missing. The unmistakable twitch inside Chris’s sweats told you he was growing hard, and as you started to bound on Henry’s lap Chris simply leant and sat on the edge of the small camping table, squeezing himself through the fabric as Henry thrust up into you.

You let your cries and gasps drift on the wind as Henry slid one hand down your front and rubbed firm circles on your clit, his other hand cupping your chin and turning your head so he could kiss you, his stubble brushing against your cheek. He started to grunt and you could feel your orgasm sparking like electricity coursing through your veins, you were now so cock hungry you were begging for him to fill you up with another load of his cum as your body milked him. 

With weary limbs you lay prone across Henry’s lap, a smile on your face as you glanced at Chris who’s eyes were dark with lust as his sweatpants were obscenely tented. Groaning as you pulled off of Henry, your legs wobbled as you closed the distance between you and Chris, kissing him fiercely as he held your body to his so you could feel his hardness pressing against your stomach;

“Betcha getting sore now…” he mused

“Kinda”

“Bend over the table, let me make you feel better…”

Stepping around the table you bent over it, pressing your chest to the smooth surface, grinning at Henry who was now sipping his coffee as he watched you and Chris with interest. 

You heard the click of a bottle lid just as Chris flipped the shirt you still wore up so your naked ass was exposed completely, the cool trickle of oil over your buttocks followed by his warm palms smoothing the cooking condiment into your skin like a goddess at a Greek temple. His thumbs ran over the swollen lips between your thighs and the deep timbre of his voice resonated through you;

“Look at that, so much cum dripping out of you, our little fuck slut”

He slid two fingers into your pussy, before pulling them out and tracing them over your asshole, the oil helping the way as he breached your body and you let out a groan as he slid in easily. Moving his hand he managed to get his other two fingers into your pussy, stuffing both your holes before he grabbed the oil with his other hand and poured more onto your asshole, lubricating you for the inevitable. 

You felt him pull his hand free and he quickly yanked his sweatpants down, the wide bulbous crown pressing against your oiled rose before with a grunt he pushed in and breached your body;

“So fucking good, gonna pump your ass full of cum then Henry can do the same… if he’s got another round in him” he shot a glance to Henry as did you, the Brit raising his coffee mug as he watched his friend plunder your asshole.

“Gonna finish my coffee, and if you’re not done by then Evans you’ll have missed your shot”

With the challenge set by Henry, Chris started to rail you hard, balls deep in your ass as the quiet sounds of nature seemed to come alive as it fed off the carnal energy in its presence, until finally with a scream you came, an intense anal orgasm making you squirt and cover Chris’s thighs, before with a guttural cry he pushed in balls deep and unloaded a thick stream of cum in your bowels. 

You lay prone on the table, your body seemingly on fire as your mind was high on serotonin, watching through heavy lidded eyes as Henry stood and came round to stand behind you beside Chris.

Sucking in a breath Chris carefully pulled out, and the two men watched as a thigh glob of cum slowly slid from your gaping hole. Henry rubbed his thumb over your stretched ring as he pulled his sweats down;

“Gonna enjoy this… don’t normally get to fuck a girls ass, but if she’s already lubed and cum soaked i can just about squeeze in”

The blunt tip of his dick breached your body, and even though Chris wasn’t small, your body had to stretch even more to allow Henry’s girth into your dark passageway;

“So good… doing so well Darling…” Henry muttered as he smoothed his hands over your cheeks; “Fuck this is tight… not gonna last long…”

His powerful hips started to thrust into you, the suction of your body pulling him back in as he railed your asshole with you bent over the small table. 

“C’mon Henry, fill that little slut up”

“Almost… fucking… there…” he replied through gritted teeth, before pushing forwards one last time, filling you with another load.

“Did you…”

“Nah, just getting to that…”

You were hanging on the precipice, your orgasm so close as Henry pulled out and flipped you over, getting to his knees as he buried his face in your pussy, sliding two fingers into each of your cum soaked holes as his wide tongue lapped at your clit and be brought you to one final mind blowing orgasm. 

With everyone completely fucked out and sated, Henry wrapped his arms around you as he pulled you off the table and settled you on his lap, your body and mind overloaded from being fucked so well for so long. You quietly snoozed on his chest as Chris served breakfast, both men eating quietly as you slumbered, before an hour later you finally roused enough with your rumbling stomach to eat some toast.

Finally as they were clearing up you stood and stretched your limbs, before you quietly shed the now rather soiled borrowed shirt, and as naked as the day you were born you slowly walked into the lake, the cool waters lapping at your skin, soothing your muscles and washing away the evidence of your sin filled morning. 

Floating and looking back at the two men as the finished up and started to undress, you smiled to yourself; for your first time camping it was certainly a trip to remember.

[eruden-writes]

Gluttony’s Hunger (Part 4)

Summary: What’s a human to do when an Avatar of Gluttony is dealing with a particularly bad craving, that no food seems to sate?

Rating: NSFW

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 (tba)

---

“Mags,” Gula croaked, his fingers flexing against her body. Maggie remained silent and still as he swallowed, his eyes squeezed shut as half-ragged breaths racked his chest. After a couple breaths, his eyes squinted open. “Are you sure? I hurt you earlier.”

With a scoff, Maggie grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling the bottom up and over his face. As planned the fabric caught on his horns and she left Gula to yank it off the rest of the way.

“As talented as your tongue is,” purred Maggie, taking advantage of Gula’s momentary wardrobe ‘malfunction,’ to return her hands to his groin. It didn’t take Gula long to yank the shirt the rest of the way off. She waited for him to stop her, for him to say something else to indicate he didn’t want to go further. But he didn’t. He just stared at her hands, a hungry look in his eyes. So Maggie undid the clasps and zippers on his pants, her fingers barely brushing against the still covered member. “A dick kind of hits a bit different, you know?”

Little sounds - throaty, soft, short - escaped Gula whenever her fingers ghosted over his dick. He shifted under Maggie, masking his own squirming in the readjustment. “I guess I know what you mean.”

“Humans aren’t as fragile as you worry about.” Maggie smiled as Gula’s pouty frown returned. He obviously didn’t believe her. Instead of arguing the point, she leaned forward, catching his earlobe between her teeth. A choked whimper escaped Gula’s lips just before Maggie released his poor ear, her lips moving along his jaw. She alternated between kissing and nipping along his jawline, until her lips brushed lightly over his. “And even if we are, some of us develop a taste for pain.”

“And you’re one of those humans?” Gula’s hands had idly returned to Maggie’s body, albeit lightly. His fingers traced softly over her arms, her sides, her thighs.

Enjoying the softer touches for the moment, Maggie nipped at Gula’s lips, before allowing her face to drift to his neck. In the crook of his shoulder and throat, where his scent and heat were heavy, Maggie grinned against the portion of his throat that had yet to be covered in wiry russet fur. “I’m willing to be a lot of things for one of my Deadlies.”

Suddenly, the world flipped. Maggie gasped, suddenly finding herself face down on her bedroom floor with Gula behind her. A rumble emanated from Gula’s chest, reverberating straight through Maggie and sinking to her core. Two hands snapped to her hips, clawed tips biting into her skin. One hand to her chest, fingers kneading at her breasts. The last curled at the juncture where her throat met her jaw, forcing Maggie to turn her head and peer over her shoulder at Gula.

“I can’t decide if you are a fucking temptress,” sighed Gula, pressing his forehead to Maggie’s back, between her shoulderblades. “Or if I’m just weak to you.”

She struggled against the softer delight that sizzled through her body. It was creeping dangerously close to her chest, her heart.

“Who’s the weak one now,” laughed Maggie, ignoring the gentler warmth in favor of the more carnal. Rocking back, she ground against the hard member - freed from Gula’s pants after he flipped MAggie - that now lined up to her entrance. A thrill coursed over her skin when Gula let out a hot breath against the back of her neck, as the slightest friction grazed over him. “So worried about me when-”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence, let alone whatever thoughts she had spindling about her mind. There was only a brief breath when Maggie realized Gula’s hips had reared back, his grasp on her tightening with fingers digging into her body and tangling in her hair.

Her heart stuttered, just before his thrust buried his member deep into her. For a dizzying moment, all Maggie could register was the firm thickness stretching her, testing the limits of her malleability; the intense heat Gula emanated, kissing her deepest places; the vibrations in her chest as a loud moan pulled from her throat without warning. Her back arched against his chest, newly sprouted wiry fur rasping her skin.

It was only when Gula began a steady pace, she realized just how large he was. In many senses. The demon seemed to have grown even larger, his torso curving over entirely. Though it was hard for her to gauge the scale. Not only due to the friction of his massive cock deliberately being dragged so damn slowly from her, like a caress over so many erogenous nerves. Gula’s hands were just as distracting.

The hand at her jaw had relocated, pressing her head down with her cheek squished against the floor. His claws pricked at her scalp, sending sinful ripples down her back. Two hands at her breasts, hot fingertips kneading her softness and claws dangerously teasing her nipples, her skin. And that final hand…

Maggie jerked as Gula’s fingers ghosted over her swollen clit. Which only prompted the demon to trace over the bundle of nerves again. An involuntary whimper wheedled through her throat, her body instinctively reacting as prickles of delight bloomed over her. With his cock not entirely free of her, she rollicked back and forth. To and fro, her back arched, some need for relief, for release, making Maggie squirm.

“You’re making me want to taste you everywhere.” The words were more growl than words, the vibrations radiating through a thoroughly ensnared Maggie. Before Maggie could question him - or beg him not to stop his onslaught - a sensation sliced across her senses that took her brain a moment to understand.

First, a drop of hot liquid splattered on her back. Followed by another. They drew lewd and breathy sounds from her lips, too far gone to care how she sounded or to worry if others heard. Maggie didn’t realize the demon was literally drooling over her, until his obscenely hot and spindly tongue traced up the middle of her back. She jerked, his heated breaths searing her skin. Desperately, Maggie continued to move against him, craving his dick to bury deep again, friction, release. Anything. Everything.

Suddenly, the heat was on other parts of her body. Her tits, encompassed in warm wetness and a hotness wriggling against her nipples, grazed by unyielding points. The same sensation grazing, swallowing, sucking at her clit.

It was only when Gula’s hand pinning her head down licked at the shell of her ear she realized it.

He had formed mouths on his hands. And his moans of delight came with every lick of his many tongues. As if every part of her was a delicacy for his tastebuds.

Finally understanding, the sensations intensified just in time for Gula to drive, hard and fast into her. Over and over, somehow making her core tighten and heat even further. The juxtaposition of flexible, warm muscles - the brush of pointed fangs - against her most sensitive spots versus the hard, unyielding heat delving into, stretching, ravaging her pussy.

It was so much.

It was too much.

Not that Maggie was complaining. Or had the cognizance to complain.

Earlier, when his mouth was glued to her center, coaxing out as many orgasms - and juices - as he could, it was an  endless cascade of pleasure. One after the other. Ebbing and flowing. Giving Maggie respite, if brief, between the peaks of bliss.

Now…

Now, it was an endless onslaught. One orgasm piling atop the other, the sensations coming stronger with each wave. Try as she might, Maggie couldn’t control her own body. Her attempts to grind and rock against Gula, to reciprocate the pleasure he gave her, stuttered as tremors plagued her body. Muscles clenched tighter and tighter, no relief to be had. Pleasure and a delightful sort of pain started to echo through Maggie’s molten core, with every orgasm, every impact of his cock against her deepest insides. Her whole body quivered, shaken by Gula’s delightful tirade and her own being unraveling.

The last thing she managed to do, in a vicious arch of her back, was reach back and grab Gula’s head. Her fingernails dug wherever she gripped, her other hand clasping desperately at one of his horns. Gula allowed her to drag his elongated, goat-like face closer to the crux of her shoulder and neck, adjusting his hold to keep her upright  while continuously pounding into her.

That damnably long, sinful tongue snaked from his mouth. It hovered outside her lips, parted from ragged breaths and moans and screams.

Only when Maggie turned toward Gula did the demon press the kiss to her mouth. Despite the preposterous amount of gratification nearly tearing her apart at the seams, Maggie still wanted more.

Between gasps and moans and growls and groans - under the vulgar sounds of their bodies slapping together and the bawdy slurping of Gula’s mouths - Maggie somehow managed to speak.

“Gula, come in me.”

That was all it took. Abruptly, the demon held tight to Maggie, claws biting deliciously into her skin as he slammed her back against his throbbing flexing cock. Her insides clenched in synchocity with his wildly twitching dick, trying to suck him impossibly deeper. Ropes of white-hot liquid released inside her, just as Gula threw his head back, an infernal snarl of satisfaction booming from his maw.

For that moment, the world shattered around Maggie. All that punctuated her senses was Gula; the heat of his body, the sound of his harsh panting, the almost all-encompassing everythingness of the demon.

Maggie let out a sobbing cry of bliss, her whole body caught in the throes of carnal satisfaction. Heat and fire and liquid warmth pooled into her, out of her. It coated her insides, her thighs, and leaked down her legs.

When Maggie could finally think in words again, she registered the state of them both. She still gasped for breaths, her chest rising and falling as tremors raked at odd intervals down her body. She could feel his panting breaths, making his body adjust minutely at intervals. Littered across her body, hickeys and claw pricks faintly ached. Gula’s palms seemed to have reverted back to flesh. Though his hands still rubbed along her body, unable to get enough of her.

Slowly, she lowered her arms and braced herself on the floor once more. Her throat felt raw and her lungs ached. Her body wet from sweat and cum and drool. Even if she wanted to clean up, Maggie wasn’t even sure if any of her limbs could function properly.

The worry was short-lived as Gula, still buried within Maggie, wrapped his arms around her and hauled her to the bed. It wasn’t a gentle deposit to the mattress, though. No, it was more like he tossed her to the bed, landing Maggie on her back.

She didn’t even have the breath to squeak. As she propped herself up on her elbows, her expression must have said enough..

“You don’t think I’m done with you, do you?” Gula chuckled, looming over Maggie with his body half-morphed back to a more familiar humanoid form. Though sharp teeth and goat-like eyes and horns remained. His too-warm hands grasped at her knees, pushing them open as his eyes flicked to her pussy. “Not after we worked so hard for this tasty treat.”

Gula slowly climbed atop the bed, positioning himself between Maggie’s splayed knees. With slow careful movements, she could tell he was giving her a chance to deny him. To tell him she was too tired, to give her some recuperation time.

But Maggie didn’t. Instead, to the best of her wobbly ability, she scooted further up the bed so Gula could comfortably settle between her legs. Acknowledging her wordless compliance, Gula’s face disappeared between her thighs. Maggie gasped, pressing her head back and wrenching her eyes shut. The second Gula’s mouth touched her, renewed pleasure shot through her like electricity, making her body exquisitely ache.

It probably would have been smarter to tell him no, Maggie realized. Everything was going to be so sore tomorrow and she could only imagine how many hickeys he left on her.

But Gula wanted her to be his tasty treat and, despite her state, she was more than willing to be that for her Gluttony.

[quokkacore]

phenomena | s.jn

summary: the majority of your adult life you’ve been practically married to logic and science. until your superiors at the FBI assign you to work with special agent johnny suh on the so-called x-files project—cases that were never solved due to unexplained phenomena. as time goes by, and you chase case after case, you find yourself drifting further from logic… and closer to johnny. (part of the 90s love collab)

pairing: conspiracytheorist!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: x-files!au (with johnny as fox mulder and reader as dana scully), fbiagents!au, coworkers-to-lovers, slow burn, sci-fi, angst, fluff, comedy, crack-ish at times, fakmarriage!au at the end

warnings: language, murder, eating, blood, general violence, police presence (txf is fbi level copaganda but oh well), johnny is a low key dick initially, sexual references, general american ignorance, implied sexual harrassment in the workplace, mental hospitals, reader witnesses a distressing panic attack, guns, body image, referenced child/animal abuse, repressed memories, mentions of anti-semitism & nazism, christian allusions, occultism, mild gore, slight body horror, some 90s pop culture references, i am not !!! an fbi agent so there may be some inconsistencies, suggestive content but no actual smut, Karens being thirsty for johnny, johnny is a Single Man and is Kind of Gross, both reader and johnny get knocked unconscious Several Times

song recs: gorillaz - dirty harry // john mellencamp - martha say // elton john - whitewash county // arctic monkeys - all my own stunts // kesha - spaceship // the cranberries - dreams // exo - oasis // the cure - friday, i'm in love // billy joel - we didn't start the fire // david bowie - starman // phoebe bridgers - chinese satellite // tom petty - wildflowers // selena - bidi bidi bom bom // soda stereo - persiana americana // bruce springsteen - dancing in the dark // the cranberries - linger // bruce springsteen - human touch // r.e.m - it's the end of the world as we know it (and i feel fine) // david bowie - heroes (or just listen to the playlist i made instead)

word count: 34.3k (YOWZA u should prob read this on a browser)

a/n: a fic this long......never again

X-FILE 62-J: THE PINEWOOD PATTERN

FBI HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C—08:00 hours, Monday, March 16th, 1992

The morning you met Johnny Suh, his glasses were crooked. It was two years after you'd started working for the FBI, and you were 28 years old. 

You'd spoken to your Division Chief—an older, balding man named Carson Brooks—the afternoon prior, just before you left home. He, along with two other men had asked you about the man in question. 

"Agent L/N, tell me. What do you know about an agent named John Suh?” 

You had furrowed your eyebrow, staring up at him. “John Suh? He had quite the reputation at the academy. Let's see… Oxford educated psychologist. He wrote a monograph on serial killers and the occult… helped the FBI catch Ezekiel Braun in 1988. He’s generally considered to be the best analyst of the violent crimes division. I’ve never met him personally. There’s a nickname for him around the division, though. They called him that in the academy, too." You had to hold back a chuckle, "Spooky Suh."

One of the men next to him nodded—a senior officer whose name you couldn't quite remember—before leaning forward. “It has come to our attention that he’s devoted himself to a project outside of the bureau mainstream. Agent L/N, are you familiar with the so-called X-Files project?”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, trying to recall where you’d heard the name. “From what I understand,” You said, looking up at the man, “They’re cases that are related to unexplained phenomena.”

Your division chief straightened his glasses. “Agent L/N, we’d like for you to assist Suh on these files. You are to write field reports and assess the validity of his work.”

You blinked, not letting your face crack. “...Am I to understand you want me to debunk the X-Files project, sir?”

Your eyes scanned the room. So far, the third man, the one smoking the cigarette had been the only one to not speak.

“Agent L/N,” Your division chief replied with a pursed smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, “We expect you to make the proper scientific analyses required for these cases. We trust you won’t disappoint us and will be looking forward to seeing your reports. You are to meet with Agent Suh tomorrow morning.”

That had been the day before. Now, here you were, on your way down to the basement, which was apparently John Suh's natural habitat within the Bureau headquarters. The lighting was relatively low in the hallways, shelves upon shelves of cardboard archive boxes seemingly closing you in. When you finally reached the office door at the end of the hall, you rapped your knuckles against the wood twice.

“Sorry, no one down here except for the FBI’s most unwanted!” A deep, sardonic toned voice lamented. You made an amused face to yourself, before quickly composing yourself. 

Professionalism above all else, Y/N. First impressions matter.

So you took a deep breath before opening the door slowly. Your eyes scanned the room, widening slightly despite your mantras of professionalism. The man had his back to you, so he didn’t catch it, thankfully. He was too busy studying photographic slides on a lightbox on his desk, hunched over in concentration. 

But amongst those metal filing cabinets that were all that same atrocious shade of gray, the entire room was pretty much a mess—papers scattered across the desk and pictures tacked to the walls haphazardly to the point where it was hard to tell what color the wall he was sitting in front of was. Among other things, you caught newspaper clippings, pictures of bright beams of light igniting the night sky, a diagram of the human skeleton, and in the middle, a large poster. On it, a large UFO was hovering above a pine forest skyline, the words “I WANT TO BELIEVE” printed in bold, white letters across the bottom.

The man in question turned in his swivel chair to face you. You took note of the crooked glasses propped up onto his round nose, wide eyes studying you up and down. The sleeves of his white button up were rolled up to his elbows, and his tie, just like his glasses, was crooked. Still, you mustered a curt smile, urging yourself to remain professional in spite of how handsome he was.     

"Agent Suh," You declared, holding out your hand, "I’m Y/N L/N. I've been assigned to work with you."

John shook your hand, eyeing you somewhat skeptically. "Agent L/N. I've heard a lot of things. So, who did you piss off to get stuck with this old nut?"

"Actually, I’m looking forward to working with you. Division chief Brooks has asked me to do an evaluation of your work ethic and the overall project, I’m hoping we can work well together."

He pursed his lips, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. Finally, he broke into a grin. "So, they want you to babysit."

You bit back a huff as he turned to look back at his slides. Well, yes, he was right in a way, but you weren't going to admit it. Not with the slightly condescending tone he'd taken with you. Running your tongue against your front teeth in annoyance, you did your best to remain cordial. You plastered your polite smile back onto your face and crossed your arms.

"If you have any doubt about my credentials—”

“You’re a medical doctor,” He said, pulling out a folder with a clear plastic front, “You teach at the academy, did your undergraduate degree in physics…”

He looked at the blue folder in his hands. “Einstein’s Twin Paradox: A new interpretation. Y/N L/N’s senior thesis, now there’s a credential: rewriting Einstein.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you bother to read it?” Your tone had a dangerous roll to it. Already you were starting to doubt how much you would enjoy this. 

“I did!” He stood up from the swivel chair, revealing to you just how tall he was. As he walked to one of the gray filing cabinets on the other side of the room, he turned his head and flashed you a crooked smile. “I really liked it, actually. It’s just in my line of work, the laws of physics don’t seem to apply.”

John walked back over to his desk, picking up some of the slides on the lightbox and popping them into a slide projector a few feet away. You stepped out of his way as he made his way to the light switch next to the door, engulfing the room in darkness except for the lightbox, which gave the room a dim, industrial white glow. Turning back to the projector, he pressed the on button, before he looked back at you. His face had turned serious, wide eyes peering at you in the dark.

“Maybe I can get your medical opinion on this.”

Turning your head to the first slide, your eyes settled on the body of a young woman lying amongst old leaves. She was in a white nightgown smudged in dirt, and her arms were spread out as if she were waiting for someone to embrace her.

“Oregon female,” John said, “Aged 21. No known cause of death. Autopsy tells us jack.”

He changed slides, and the image projected on the wall changed to a close up of skin, two small red dots puckered up about a few centimeters away from each other. “However, these were found on her lower back. Doctor L/N, can you ID these marks?”

Walking closer to the projection on the wall, you sighed softly in thought. “Needle punctures, maybe?” You asked, “An animal bite? Electrocution?” 

“The coroner wasn’t able to ID them either.” He pressed a button on the projector, and it whirred as it changed slides. This time, it was a figure of a chemical composition. You furrowed your eyebrow. 

“This was found in the surrounding tissue. How’s your chemistry?” He asked, sounding amused. You glanced at him in dislike, then at the composition, racking your head at the sight of so many cyclohexanes. 

“It’s organic… Is it some kind of synthetic protein?”

He didn’t answer, and your mouth fell open in confusion, shaking your head. “I… don’t know, what is it?”

John laughed. “Beats me! I’ve never seen it either. But it’s also been found in Amaranth, South Dakota…” He clicked the button on the projector. It changed to an image of a middle aged man laying face down in a ditch. He did it again, and a younger man appeared strewn in the middle of the desert, eyes glazed open. “...And again, in Verona, Nevada.”

“Do you have any theories?” You asked, squinting as to avoid looking at the glare of the projector, and instead stare at him. He made his way closer to you. The light of the projection caused the image to warp and distort, projected onto the right side of his face. 

“Oh, I have plenty of theories. What I want to know is why it’s bureau policy to claim these as unexplained phenomena when there’s clearly a pattern here.”

He sighed, before stepping closer to you. He wasn’t necessarily invading your personal space. But from this proximity, caught in the light of the projector you could make out the soft flecks of amber in his brown eyes, the soft curve of his lips. “So, doc,” He murmured, voice low and raspy, “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

Oh boy, you thought, here we go. 

“Logically, I would have to say no. The energy capabilities required to travel through space, as well as the technology you're implying would exceed a spacecraft's—”

"Conventional wisdom," He said, raising his eyebrows. He crossed his arms, pointing at the projection. "Do you know that this girl in Oregon is the fourth person in her graduating class to pass away under suspicious circumstances?" 

 He shifted his weight to lean on one leg. “When there’s no logic, and there’s no convention, is it such a crime to turn to the fantastic for explanations?”

 You frowned. “She had to have died from something. Whether it was natural, then it’s possible the medical examiner missed something. If she was murdered, then maybe it was a cover-up, or a sloppy investigation.” 

Leaning your head forward towards him, you put your hands on your hips. “What I find fantastic is the idea that you would be willing to look anywhere except the realm of science for answers. The answers are there, you just have to be willing to look for them.”

    “And that’s why they put the I in FBI,” He quipped, sounding quite amused at his joke. He turned on the overhead lights, then made his way to sit down at his swivel chair. He leaned back against the black cushion. “So, L/N. You, me, a flight to Pinewood, Oregon, bright and early tomorrow at eight AM. How’s that sound?”

 You bit back a smile. John Suh was… quite the character, that was for sure. Smug. Intelligent. Maybe just a tiny bit off his rocker.

But you didn't really have much of a choice, and you were growing curious as well. 

 "Alright,” You conceded, “I’ll bite.”

 John grinned. “Awesome.”

You set your purse down next to the projector, before turning it off. “I’ll be right back,” You told him, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

He nodded, turning back to the files next to the lightbox.

 “And John?” You leaned against the doorway, watching as he straightened his posture to look up at you, expectant of your words. His eyes, from behind those crooked, round rimmed glasses, were poised on your frame. 

“Yes?”

“Your glasses are crooked.” You turned to exit, smiling to yourself when you heard him move, and softly mumble, “Oh, shit.”

PINEWOOD, OREGON—11:32 hours, Tuesday, March 17th, 1992

The plane touched down with only the slightest bit of turbulence. John Suh was sitting right next to you, snoring softly as you pored over the four different medical reports. The reports of the first three victims—Kaya Tate, Jisung Park, and Alex Gallagher—were basically the same word for word, other than specific physical details of the victims, like hair color, height and weight. All of them were found in the woods and were estimated to have died somewhere between one and four in the morning. Possible causes of death included exposure and cardiac arrest, but there wasn’t enough evidence to list anything. The oddest part was that of the three of them, all of their pupils were shrunken. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

 When a person dies, what occurs next is called primary flaccidity. In this state, all of the muscles relax—their head might fall back as the neck loses strength, the jaw falls open, fingers loosen their grip. And the pupils should dilate. But here, they weren’t. Not in the slightest.

You frowned, looking over the first three reports again. There was no sign of red marks anywhere. At the end of all three medical reports, the same signature was seen: Aaron Choi, MD. 

Flicking through the medical report of the fourth victim—Kaya Tate—you looked over the similarities of the other autopsies, and the one unavoidable difference: those damned red markings John had shown you yesterday. With a sigh, you skimmed over the report one last time, before one final difference caught your eye at the very end. This report wasn’t signed by one Aaron Choi, MD. No, it was signed by Hank Rodrigo, MD.

You didn’t have time to think over it much as the pilot made the announcement that the plane would be landing soon. John jumped awake at the sound of his voice. His eyes cracked open, and he frowned as if he were upset at being woken up. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” You greeted when he gave you a sideways glance. 

“And here I was, hoping for a kiss to break the spell.” He laughed sleepily, but you frowned as you pulled the reports off of the tray. You didn’t answer as you put them away and put the tray back up in preparation for the landing.

John stretched his back, inhaling deeply before staring at you awkwardly. “...Sorry. I’m being inappropriate.”

You shook your head, but then smiled. “Thank you for apologizing. Some guys at the bureau can be real creeps.”

He frowned. “...You’re trained in self defense at the academy for a reason, y’know.”

Rolling your eyes, you zipped up your bag. Still, you couldn’t let go of the smile on your face. Still, you put some sarcasm into your tone when you next spoke. “Of course I am.”

When the plane landed, you picked up the rental car the bureau had provided, and put your suitcases in the trunk before getting in. John drove, popping in a cassette of his that played some rock song you didn’t know the name of. 

Martha say she don't need no stinking man making no decisions for her

She don't need his money, she don't need him between the sheets

She ain't gonna sleep on the edge of the bed for no stinking man...

“Kaya Tate’s medical report was signed by a different examiner,” You pointed out, even though you knew that he’d already realized that.

“And there it is,” He said, not taking his eyes off of the road. “Those marks are pretty hard to miss. If they all had similar circumstances in the autopsy, who’s to say the first three kids didn’t have the same markings? And why would Doctor Choi avoid putting that in the reports?”

For a moment, he looked at you, and raised an eyebrow. You mirrored his expression at his implication. “So, you think the medical examiner has something to do with the murders.”

“Maybe?” He glanced briefly in the rearview mirror. “He’s a person of interest. Not necessarily a suspect. I’ve arranged to exhume Alex Gallagher’s body. Maybe we can come to some conclusion of our own—”

He was interrupted by the sound of the song from his cassette distorting, static blaring in between the music and the sound of the vocalist’s voice.

At first, you thought it was something to do with the cassette… until the windows started rolling up and down of their own accord, and the lights on the dashboard started to flicker. You felt the car even swerve slightly, despite John’s firm hands on the wheel.

Within a matter of seconds he managed to pull over and put the car in park. As soon as it had started, it was over, but as John turned the motor off, he met your eyes. He looked just as perplexed as you did. 

“What just happened?”

He didn't answer, unbuckling his seat belt. As he got out of the car, you did the same thing, wondering what kind of failure could cause a car to go haywire like that. 

Wordlessly, you watched as John took a good, long look at his watch, before walking over to the trunk and popping it up. From his suitcase, he pulled out a can of spray paint. He pulled the cap off of it and leaned over, aiming at the asphalt. You raised your eyebrows.

"What are you—" 

The sound of the paint can interrupted your words. You watched as he sprayed a big X on the street, right in front of where he was standing. Your mouth remained slightly open, unsure of what to say. When he stood up straight, he placed the can back in his suitcase, and looked up at you. Slamming the trunk shut, the both of you exchanged stares: his blank as if vandalizing forest streets were a part of his day to day life, and yours somewhat perplexed. 

When the two of you got back into the car, it turned on with no issue. John's cassette started up again on the same song. Again, you exchanged a wordless stare, the both of you now equally unsure.

“Welcome to the Twilight Zone,” John muttered, putting the car in drive. You didn’t reply.

 Hi-de-hi-de-hi, brother,

Hi-de-hi-de-hey now, Martha...

Ten minutes later the two of you rolled into the cemetery. It was an uphill slope, a small field atop it, connecting to the woods. John drove until a small, yellow bulldozer caught your eye and you pointed it out. He parked as close as the road permitted, and the two of you exited the car, ready to head up the hill.

As the two of you pulled out your FBI badges, an officer came running up to you. He darted between tombstones and stopped in front of you, pursing his lips awkwardly. You both help up your badges. "Special agents Y/N L/N and John Suh," You said.

The officer nodded sheepishly. He seemed young and rather inexperienced. "Officer Mitch Swenson. The chief couldn't be here right now, ma'am."

"Oh?" John continued walking towards the grave, which was fully undug. A crew was in the process of using a pulley to lift the coffin out of the ground. "Couldn't, or didn't want to? He didn't seem very happy when I contacted him on the phone. Didn't even tell me his name."

Officer Swenson looked down. "I'm sorry to say that he's opposed to this intervention, sir."

"Unfortunately," You told him, "After so many unexplained deaths, we're obligated to involve ourselves. If he has an issue with our jurisdiction then he can take it up with—"

A loud snapping noise stopped you in your tracks, and your head turned just in time to see the ropes on the pulley snap, dropping the coffin. It quickly began tumbling downhill, towards you. You barely had time to step back. Before you could be trampled by a goddamn coffin on what was quickly becoming one of the strangest days of your life, you felt a strong hand grip your forearm and yank you back harshly. 

The coffin barrelled right into the back of a tombstone, cracking open ever so slightly. Your back collided with John's chest. Neck craning back to look at him, you realized both your chests were heaving in shock. He was staring at the small opening in the coffin.

You pulled away from him, charging towards the coffin. John and Officer Swenson did the same, as well as some from the lifting crew.

As soon as you got within five feet of the coffin, a putrid odor hit your nose and seemed to hit everyone else's. John's hand went to cover his nose. Officer Swenson turned green. You held back a gag.

Still, despite the heinous stench, you leaned forward, trying to get a good look inside. Fully expecting to see a decaying corpse, you squinted, trying to make out the shape of the face.

"Holy shit," You heard the young officer say off to your left. Your eyes widened, just as you made out some features of the cadaver.

"Make sure no one else sees this," John ordered someone, as you made out a snout and very thin arms. As your eyes widened, John turned to you. You turned your head to him, and he flashed you an awkward grin.

"...I'm guessing he was no student athlete," He joked, scratching the back of his head. You shook your head in disbelief, face frozen in shock.

"I… is that a—?"

CORONER'S OFFICE, PINEWOOD, OREGON — 14:48 hours, Tuesday, March 17th, 1992

"A chimpanzee."

You didn't give John's unsatisfied tone much of a second thought, continuing to ensure you had everything ready for your analysis.

"You think it's a chimpanzee," John said again a few seconds later, snapping a picture of the body, which was spread out on a metal table. 

"Or an orangutan," You replied, not looking up from your tools. Pulling out your tape recorder, you finally met his eyes. "I was thinking it might even be a bonobo, but it's too big. Mammalian, that's for sure."

"Y/N, we're in Oregon! Where would someone get a monkey—why would someone put a monkey in some dead kid's coffin?"

You shook your head. "John, you can't possibly think this is anything other than a sick joke, can you?"

He huffed, too engrossed in taking pictures of the body. He looked like he had just discovered sliced bread.

"This is amazing. It—it's unprecedented… I want a full report," He demanded, "Toxicology, x-rays, tissue samples, genetic testing, the works. We can get those tissue samples and x-rays done now, everything else we take back to DC." 

You laid a measuring tape next to the subject's body, before putting your hands on your hips. 

"You’re kidding," You said, glaring at him from the other side of the table, "Try telling Alex Gallagher's family that his body was replaced with an alien. You'd probably lose a few teeth doing it!" 

John lowered his camera, taking a deep breath. He thought for a few seconds before answering. "I'm not crazy, Y/N," He insisted, "I have the same doubts you do." 

Flexing your fingers to see if the surgical gloves fit adequately, you sighed. 

"Please leave for a moment," You mumbled, "I need to record my observations and I can't do that properly if you're flashing that camera in my face and talking about little green men." 

He frowned, not meeting your eyes. He looked like he wanted to protest, but he shook his head to himself as he turned around. Soon, he was out the door. 

During your analysis, you made several observations: the subject was 157 centimeters in length, and weighed 56 pounds. Long limbs and fingers, and large ocular caverns that suggested it belonged to the ape family, as you'd told John minutes ago. It was in an advanced state of decay and desiccation. 

When you turned the subject over, you couldn't help but look at the lower back. Lo and behold, there and ready to give you a headache, were two bumps. They were no longer red, tinged gray, same as the rest of the body, but they were there.

Only when the x-rays finally developed two hours later did you discover the cherry on top: a small metallic implant in the subject's nasal cavity, embedded in the skin, which was extracted and placed in a small glass vial. The vial was placed in your blazer pocket, which you'd removed to put on the PPE gown. 

When you were finally finished with the report, you put your blazer back on and discarded the PPE and surgical gloves. All you'd managed to do was give yourself a migraine at all of the oddities piling up in this case. When you got back to DC? A bubble bath was in order. With a very, very large glass of wine.

As you approached the door to the lobby, the voices of two men arguing got louder and louder. Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the feeling of your head pounding. One sounded angrier, the other significantly calmer. When your hand was on the knob, you realized who the calmer voice belonged to.

"Shit," You whispered to yourself, flinging open the door. A middle aged man yelling at John—who looked very blasé about the whole situation—was waving his finger in his face. Behind him stood Officer Swenson, another officer, and a young girl dressed in an oversized windbreaker and jeans, who looked like she wanted to evaporate into thin air. 

"You people think you can march in here and do whatever you want," The man growled, "I don't see why—"

"What's going on here?" You asked, stepping between the man and John. The man scoffed at you, eyeing you up and down. 

“Who are you?”

You pulled out your badge and flashed it to him. His scowl deepened. “Special Agent Y/N L/N, FBI. I’m Agent Suh's partner for this investigation. Now, what is going on? And who are you?”

The man’s face twisted in disdain at your authoritative tone. “I’m Doctor Aaron Choi, the county medical examiner. Now, the audacity of you and your partner—”

“Dad, please,” The girl exclaimed, sounding embarrassed, “Let’s just go home!”

 The man waved a hand in her direction, tone dismissive and angry. “Lia, be quiet. I’m talking. The audacity you two have to come here and interrupt our procedures—”

“Doctor Choi, this is the fourth unexplained death of a student from the Pinewood High class of ‘89,” John pointed out, “After the county was unable to come up with any conclusive evidence, the FBI was forced to become involved. I take it you weren’t informed of the exhumation and the analysis of Alex Gallagher’s body?”

Doctor Choi shook his head. “I’ve been away with my family. We just got back.”

That explains the different medical examiner on the latest autopsy, you realized. 

“Doctor Choi, I’m sorry you feel that way,” You said, “But it’s our obligation to come and investigate. Now, I’m sorry, but it’s getting late, and we have to get going. I can give you my cell phone number if it were to make you more comfortable, but—”

“No. That’s quite enough,” He snapped. He turned to the young girl, nodding his head at the door. “Lia, let’s go.”

The girl sighed, and met your eyes before she turned to follow after him. She looked desperate; you assumed it was because of the scene her father had caused. The two officers followed after them.

As the two of you watched them leave, you turned to John. He simply shrugged, looking done with the whole situation. “Talk about a warm welcome,” He grumbled. You glared at him. 

“Let’s just go,” You huffed, rubbing at a spot above your eyebrow, “I still need to get started on this report.”

The two of you exited the building, and John explained that tomorrow, he’d arranged a visit to a mental institution in the town over. That there were two more students of the class of ‘89 were staying. Both of them were reportedly a part of Alex Gallagher’s circle of friends.

 In your pocket, the vial holding the metal implant seemed heavier than it had been when you first extracted it.

ALOYSIUS GRANT MENTAL INSTITUTION, CRESTHILL, OREGON—10:47 hours, Wednesday, March 18th, 1992

The wing where Chenle Zhong and Nancy Goldstein were staying was relatively quiet. As the nurse explained their circumstances, Nancy remained glued to a book in her wheelchair. Next to her in his bed, Chenle lay perfectly still, lips parted slightly, eyes wide and unmoving. 

You were informed that Nancy had developed delusions and become extremely paranoid as a result of post-traumatic stress. Chenle was living through something called a living coma. He never moved, never spoke. The only indication you saw that he was still alive was the constant rise and fall of his chest. Both of them had been in an automotive crash in the autumn of 1989, and had been like this ever since. 

“Nancy,” The nurse said softly, “You have guests, can they speak with you?”

Nancy lifted her head, “I can’t,” She answered, shaking her head. “I’m reading to Lele right now.”

“Does… does he like it when you read to him?” John asked, and she nodded.

“It calms him down,” She said, “It distracts him from everything.”

You looked down, thinking about her words and what she must have gone through—Chenle as well. At the feet of Chenle’s bed, you noticed odd specks of… ash? It was sprinkled sparsely in front of the bed, on what was a seemingly pristine floor.

You wanted to pick it up, but didn’t want the nurse looking at you strangely. So you turned your attention back to the conversation between John and the nurse. He lowered his voice and leaned in towards her, as if he didn’t want Nancy to hear. “Would it be possible for us to run some medical tests on Ms. Goldstein?”

The thing was that Nancy did hear, and at the mention of medical tests, her large eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she started to tremble in the wheelchair. “N-no tests,” She pleaded, before throwing her book to the side and raising her voice, "No tests! You can't take me there again!"

She began to thrash in the wheelchair, hyperventilating and begging in between breaths to not go anywhere. She threw herself out of the wheelchair but was unable to stand, and instead remained on the floor, crying. 

"Nancy, sweetie, you're going to be fine," The nurse said gently, leaning down to placate the poor girl who was shaking her head. She looked up at the both of you. "Can you help me please?" 

John leaned down to gently assist the nurse in helping Nancy up, and you picked up the wheelchair, which had fallen onto its side. You gripped one of the back handles of the chair to steady it. Your other hand smudged along the ground to try and pick up some of the powder. As the pair helped her sit down, your eyes caught something. 

Nancy's shirt had ridden up during the ordeal, and there, along the small of her back, you saw them. The same marks that Kaya Tate, Jisung Park, and Alex Gallagher had. 

When Nancy refused to calm down, wailing and begging not to be taken back to wherever she thought you and John wanted to take her, the nurse ushered you out.

 "I'm sorry," She told you, "But you're upsetting my patients. If you absolutely need to come back, then do it some other day when she's calmed down." 

The two of you set off towards the exit down the stairs, your heels click-clacking quickly along the floor as you walked in front of John. 

He held open the exit door for you, and as soon as you were out the door and headed toward the parking lot, you whirled on him. 

"How did you know she would have those marks?" You asked, almost angry at him. John shrugged. 

"A hunch," Was all he answered.

"Dammit, Suh, cut the crap. What the hell is going on here?"

"What, so you can go off and write it in your little reports?" He fired back, raising his voice at you for the first time. Your head snapped back at the sudden disdain in his voice.

"I'm here to solve this case just the same as you are," You growled, "Now tell me the truth. I think I'm entitled to it."

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, scowling at you. He leaned closer to you and lowered his voice. "You want my honest opinion? Fine. I think those kids have been abducted by an alien force. I think that they run tests on those kids, which is why Nancy Goldstein freaked out, and why Alex's body and hers have those markings. That's what I think."

You tapped your heel along the sidewalk in frustration and thought. "John, do you realize how insane that sounds? I—Why, there's nothing to substantiate—"

"Nothing scientific to substantiate," He corrected.

"Science is all there is, John!" You shook your head. He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. The  both of you knew that this conversation would lead nowhere. Looking down, you remembered the ash smudged onto the palm of your hand. 

"Look," You said, quieter now. "This was on the floor around Chenle Zhong's bed."

"'S that… ash?"

You nodded. "I know what you think, John. Let me tell you what I think. I think those kids might be involved in some sort of sacrifice of some sort. Think about it, they're always called into the woods. The medical examiner doesn't want us looking at the bodies. And now, ash."

John's eyes darted back and forth, considering the options. He walked over to the car, unlocking it so the both of you could enter. 

"We can head into the woods tonight," He offered finally. "That way, we can both look into our own hypotheses."

"Sounds good to me," You answered, "Tonight."

THE WOODS, PINEWOOD, OREGON—20:26 hours, Wednesday, March 18th, 1992

A few hours after sundown, the two of you drove to the edge of the woods, armed with flashlights and your handguns. You'd tied your hair back and changed into a dark blue windbreaker, along with sweatpants and running shoes. It was a bit windy, and you could see storm clouds rolling in.

"Stay close by," You'd told John. "And be quiet."

"Yes, mom," He sighed. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to punch him in the arm. 

Once the two of you were out of the car, you split up, trying to stay within earshot of his footsteps. You spent about ten minutes wandering around, flashing your light around, taking slow steps as you scrounged for any hints. 

Above you, thunder rumbled, the occasional strike of lightning lighting up the sky for milliseconds. Leaning your head forward, you squinted in the dark. No way. 

The whole ground around you was covered in ash. If not the exact same ash as what was in front of Chenle's bed, it was very similar—sprinkled on top of the leaves and dirt. As you kneeled down to pick some up, your eyes widened at the same texture and pigment as the one of today. 

"What the fuck," You muttered under your breath, mind racing a mile a minute. These woods were creepy enough without the implication of a ritualistic cult, or close encounters of the third kind, or whatever John believed was happening. But now you had the possibility of a connection between these woods and two seriously disturbed kids.

A sudden mechanical rumbling made you snap your head up. You squinted, lifting your other hand to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness that lit up the trees. 

"John?" You asked when you heard footsteps. Your heart rate began to speed up, hand reaching for the gun tucked into your waistband. 

When you realized that the sound was coming from the direction of the light, you called his name out again. "John?"

A tall figure emerged from the light, and you soon realized what was pointed at you—a shotgun. Definitely not John Suh.

Not hesitating, you pulled out your gun. "Special agent Y/N L/N, FBI! Identify yourself!"

The figure only stopped until it was about ten feet away. You squinted, making out some familiar features. Surprisingly, you realized it was the officer who had been at the coroner's office with Doctor Choi. 

John came stumbling up to you, chest heaving. "Chief!" He sounded strangely enthusiastic. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"You're trespassing on private property," He announced, seemingly unamused by John's tone. 

"We are conducting an investigation," You countered, lowering your gun. 

"You are trespassing," He said adamantly, "Now get out, before I have you both arrested."

John glanced at you momentarily. You frowned as he shrugged, obviously wanting you to stand down. The staredown continued for a solid ten seconds before you groaned softly. Tucking your gun back into your waistband, you followed the chief out of the woods, right back to your car, which was right next to his.

As John drove away, you watched as the flashing police lights faded into the distance. "What's he doing out here when he's got a whole town to take care of?"

John shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't know," He hummed in that deep voice of his, "But I don't like him one bit."

The two of you drove in relative silence after that. The storm finally came down, drops of rain cascading angrily onto the windshield. Thunder rolled overhead, and the lightning grew bright.

In the dim light, your eyes turned to watch John, hoping he wouldn't take notice. You watched him alternate his eyes between the road ahead and the rearview mirror every few seconds. Your eyes raked over his features—a strong brow bone, a round nose, lips that seemed to curve upwards in a natural smirk.

You looked back up at his eyes, and his own gaze glanced at the watch on his wrist before returning to the road.

"You're staring," He said, sounding like he’d caught you with a hand in the cookie jar. You felt the scoff leave your lips before you could catch it, your cheeks heating up.

"I am not—"

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, far brighter than any of the other strikes. Then, an odd sensation filled your body: for the briefest of moments you felt absolutely weightless, unable to feel the carseat beneath you. Then a moment later when the light faded, and the feeling disappeared.

The car rolled to a stop, the engine’s rumble dying. You frowned even though you were glad that you’d have a chance to change the subject. “What happened?”

Johnny looked at the lights on the dashboard, and pressed on the accelerator tentatively a few times. He raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Uh… we lost power.”

He seemed calm enough. Until he glanced at his watch again. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he let out a single, excited laugh. “No fucking way,” He murmured, rushing to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Uh, John, where are you g—”

He was out of the car before you could finish your sentence, heading into the downpour. You groaned, unbuckling hastily and following him. Already, he was drenched, and within seconds you were too. He was walking towards something on the road, a few feet in front of the car. When he turned to look back at you, he looked like a preschooler who had just discovered Sesame Street. His fists pumped into the air, his eyes squeezed shut and he began to jump up and down.

“Fuckin’—I—WOO! WOO HOO!”

“For the love of god,” You grumbled, standing right next to him despite his loud cheering, you tried your hardest to make out what had gotten him so excited. When the next flash of lightning lit up the street, plus the lights of the car helping illuminate the road, you saw it: a big, bright, neon X. Almost the exact same place the car had started acting strange yesterday.

“We lost time!” He yelled over the sound of the downpour. "I looked at my watch before the flash! It was 9:02 then, now it’s 9:13! That’s eleven minutes—GONE!”

You shook your head, stepping away. You threw up your hands in confusion. “What—John, that’s not possible! You’re saying time disappeared, time can’t—it can’t just disappear! That’s not just crazy, it’s—i-it’s a universal invariant! It’s impossible!”

John shook his head at you, eyes wide in wonder. Right before he started walking back to the car, he let out one last gleeful laugh. “Not in this zip code!”

Much to your displeasure, your headache returned soon after. You were more than content to let John ramble on while you zoned out, rubbing your forehead. What little you picked up was that people who claimed to be abductees always mentioned a bright flash of light and losing time, anywhere from five minutes to several hours.

You weren’t sure what to think at this point. You had half a mind to drive John to the Aloysius Grant Mental Institution and leave him there with Chenle and Nancy.

When you got back to the hotel, you ran straight to your room. When you tried flickering on the light, you found that it wouldn’t turn on. With a sigh, you realized the storm had to have blown the power out. Peeling off your wet clothes before you did anything else, you stripped to your underwear before pulling on your bathrobe. Shivering, you scrounged in the darkness of the room for anything, a flashlight, some candles.

Surprisingly, they did have a candle, a holder and some matches. As you lit it, and went over your bedtime routine (yes, you were a grown woman going to bed at 9:30 PM, you were tired), you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling settling in your stomach. Everything felt so off here, and there were so many things you couldn’t explain.

As much as John wanted to convince you, he couldn’t explain them either. The whole situation felt bizarre in a dreadful way. As you marched into the bathroom for a quick shower, you tried to reassure yourself everything would connect eventually.

When you took off the bathrobe, your hand went to rub at your lower back. The stiff mattress wasn’t doing you any favors. You let your eyes flutter shut, fingers rubbing at the muscle below your skin.

Until your fingers brushed over something that you knew hadn’t been there before. Your eyes snapped open, and you turned your back to the mirror, craning your neck to see. Your fingers ached to touch the spot again, but in your sudden alarm, your fingers began to shake.

There. At the small of your back, just above the waistband of your underwear, there they were. Two bumps. Just like Nancy’s. Just like Alex’s. Just like Kaya’s.

You didn’t know what overtook you. All of a sudden, you were putting your bathrobe back on and strutting stiffly out of your room. Before you knew it, you were knocking insistently on John’s door.

You didn’t stop until a very confused looking John opened up, holding a candle. “I—”

“I need to show you something,” You said shakily. His demeanor changed instantly when he saw your frantic state. He nodded wordlessly, widening the door and stepping to the side. Once the door was closed, you faced him, before untying the robe. His eyes widened slightly despite your shaking hands, and the tips of his ears turned red.

“Woah, at least take me out to dinner first—”

“Johnny, shut up!”

He froze at your tone, your slip up—calling him Johnny instead of John. You were too distressed to care, tossing the robe to the floor before turning, trying to poke at the marks on your back.

“What are they?” You asked, and John reached out a hand as if to placate you.

“Hey, hey,” He murmured, “Deep breaths. Can I get a closer look?”

Nodding, and trying to do what he said, you let him step closer, before kneeling. Tentatively, he ghosted a hand over the marks. You tried to ignore the goosebumps, shivering from what you assumed was the cold.

“What are they?” You repeated. “John—”

He spun you around, putting a gentle hand on your hip. You peered down at him, panting softly. “It’s okay,” He said softly, “They’re just mosquito bites.”

Your eyes fluttered shut in relief, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady your wobbling knees. “You’re sure?” You asked, looking down at him.

He nodded, amber eyes staring up at you. You were suddenly hyper aware of his hand on your hip, unable to break his gaze. He cleared his throat, standing up but not stepping away from you. “Yeah, I got some out there too. I’m positive.”

You put the bathrobe back on, then crossed your arms. “I need to sit down,” You mumbled. He gestured to his bed, sitting on the chair next to it. You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to impose. He shook his head, setting down the candle on the table.

“You’re shaking,” He said, “Go ahead.”

Inhaling deeply, you tried to compose yourself. Your hand rubbed at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling tense. You chewed on your lip, wondering if you should ask the question itching to come out.

“John?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. He nodded, eyes earnest.

“Yeah?”

“How did you… Why are you so interested in this stuff?”

His eyes lowered, rubbing his palms together slowly. He took a deep breath, resting his elbows on his thighs. Finally, he sighed.

“I was twelve when it happened,” He whispered. His gaze turned solemn, almost angry. “My little sister, Maggie, went missing in the middle of the night. Just… disappeared, like she vanished into thin air. No note, no phone calls, no discernible trail or evidence at all. Gone, just like that. How does an eight year old girl disappear without a trace?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, not answering. Outside, the rain had stopped, but John’s eyes were a storm of their own, several emotions swimming around in pools of golden brown.

“It tore my family apart. My parents got divorced, everyone else refused to talk about it. There weren’t any facts to confront, nothing to give anyone closure, and the search just stopped.”

“What did you do?” You asked softly. He shrugged, pursing his lips.

“Eventually, I ran away to England. Came back, got recruited by the bureau.” He offered a sardonic smile, no joy behind it. “Apparently, I have a natural aptitude for applying behavioral models to criminal cases. My success allowed me a certain amount of freedom to pursue my own interests. That’s when I found the x-files.”

“On accident?” You leaned to lay down on your side, propping your head up with one hand. He nodded.

“At first, it looked like a dump for UFO sightings, cryptids, alien abductions. Real Hollywood kind of stuff. But… I was fascinated by it all, I read all the cases I could get my hands on. Hundreds of them, Y/N. All the paranormal phenomena, the occult, and then…” He sighed, lowering his head.

“What?” You leaned toward him, trying to read his face in the dark.

“There’s… classified government information I’ve been trying to get my hands on. Someone keeps blocking my access.” He looked to the side, palms still rubbing together. “The only reason I’ve been allowed to continue my work is because I've made connections in congress.”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand, are they afraid you’ll leak this information?”

When he met your gaze, the anger had returned, now far less subdued. “You’re a part of that agenda,” He murmured, “You would know.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly, and you shook your head before scooching closer to him. “I’m not a part of any agenda,” You answered. “You need to trust me.”

He sighed, before standing up to move onto your bed, leaning very close to you. The usually playful glow in his eyes was nowhere to be seen. “I’m telling you this, Y/N, because you need to know. In my... research, I’ve worked very closely with a man named Hans Kruger. He’s taken me through deep regression hypnosis, and through my repressed memories I’ve been able to return to that night my sister disappeared. I remember a very bright light outside and a presence in the room, and the sensation of being paralyzed, unable to answer her cries for help. Listen to me, Y/N, this thing exists.”

“But how do you know—”

“The government knows! And I gotta know what they’re protecting.” He leaned even closer to you, face inches away from yours. “Nothing else matters to me, and this is as close as I’ve ever—”

   The ringing of the telephone made the both of you jump away from each other, and John stood to pick up the phone. “Hello?”

   He made a face as the person on the other side answered. “What? Who is this? Who is—”

   Pulling the phone away from his ear, he looked at you. He seemed confused, alarmed. “That was a woman,” He said, putting the phone back on the housing, “Who told me that Nancy Goldstein is dead.”

 You frowned. “The girl in the wheelchair?”

 HIGHWAY 227, PINEWOOD, OREGON—23:11 hours, Wednesday, March 18th, 1992

 Quickly, the two of you dressed. The crash wasn’t hard to find in such a small town. Surrounded by witnesses and two police cars, a large semi truck was stopped in the middle of the road. Once there you produced your badges to get past the police cars. John went off to ask one of the cops questions about the accident, and you walked over to the body, which was draped over with a white cloth.

 Right next to it, a man, who you assumed was the driver, was being questioned. Showing the officer next to the body your badge, you crouched down to peel back the cloth covering the body.     

Poor Nancy Goldstein, wet with rain and blood, lay strewn in the road. A dribble of drying blood was running down her mouth. Her once white and purple polka dotted hospital gown was tinged with red, brown and gray. You sighed in sympathy. But your eyes travelled down at the watch she had on, and the sympathy made way into confusion. The hands had stopped, right at 9:02.

You took a deep breath when you recognized the coincidence. That's all it had to be, right? A coincidence?

 "You said she just ran out in front of you?" The officer speaking to the man asked.

"Yes, officer," He answered, "Just came charging out from the trees and right into the truck."

Nancy Goldstein, running. Not even walking, no, full on running. You stared at the body, eyes travelling to her legs. Somehow, they were specked with flecks of dirt, mud and small wood chips. It was consistent with someone moving through a wet, muddy area while barefoot. You swallowed anxiously, trying to figure out what was going on in this town.

 When you got into the car with John, you raised an eyebrow at him, getting ready to speak. Before you could, however, his cell phone rang. He pulled out the device and answered the call with a tired, "Suh. Who am I speaking to?"

You watched as his face turned confused. "What?"

 You couldn't hear what he was told, but when his face twisted into disbelief, and then anger, you knew it couldn't be anything good. "Of course. We'll be there as soon as possible," He said, tight-lipped.

 When he hung up, he immediately started the car. He didn't meet your eyes. "Fuck!" He growled, causing you to jump.

 "What?" Your eyes widened at his sudden outburst, barely having time to buckle your seatbelt before he sped away. "John, what happened—"

"Fuck if I know!" He snapped at you, before shaking his head and sighing.

 "There was a fire at the hotel." His tone was softer now. Your stomach sank. "Our rooms were the ones that were most affected."

"You've gotta be kidding," You sighed. He didn't answer, simply kept his eyes on the road.Only when the two of you got there did you realize just how bad the situation was. The fire department was there, hosing down the inside of your room. A crowd had come to watch the firemen work.

"There goes my computer!" You groaned. John kicked the car door.

"Fuck! The x-rays and pictures!" He seemed just about ready to explode.

Your eyes drifted back to the blinding, orange glow of the fire, crossing your arms in frustration, exhaustion.

Suddenly, a tap on your shoulder caused you to turn. You were met face to face with a familiar looking young girl in a bright blue denim jacket. She looked just about on the verge of tears.

 "John," You called, not looking away from her. When he saw the girl, he came up to the two of you.

 He raised a finger at her. "You're Do—"

 "My name is Lia Choi," She declared, voice wobbly, "You have to protect me."

 You quickly ushered Lia into the back of the car. When you closed the door, John raised an eyebrow at you. "She might know something," He murmured.

 "I know," You answered. "She seems terrified."

 He nodded. "You hungry?"

  "Um… yeah, why?"

  "I'm starving," He admitted, gnawing on his lips. "Let's get something to eat and question her there."

 "How the hell are you thinking about food at a time like this?"

He raised an eyebrow, making a face. "What, and you aren't?"

You rolled your eyes, but didn't disagree.

 The car ride took about ten minutes, and you pulled into the small diner with little to no issue. By then, it was a little past midnight, so it was starting to empty out. It had started raining again. You sat next to Lia, as she seemed somewhat more intimidated by John. He paid for some burgers and fries for the three of you, and then Lia finally spoke.

"I… There's something in the woods."

You exchanged glances with John, who rested his elbows on the table and interlaced his fingers. "What do you mean, something in the woods, Miss Choi?"

 The young girl shook her head, looking sheepish. "Please, just call me Lia," She said.

 Taking a deep breath, you flashed him a look that said let me try. "Lia, do you know that there's something in the woods, or is it just a feeling?"

 She stared at the table, looking for words. "I've never actually… seen anything. Not really. But I… I have these dreams. They're not like normal dreams, I-I have no idea how to explain it, but they just feel so… wrong. It's like my body's vibrating the entire time, a-and when I wake up, I'm there. In the woods. Every time. They—they've started happening more and more, and I don't know what to do, I-I'm just so—"

 "Woah, slow down there, kid," John said, holding up his hands. She'd started rambling, and it didn't take a genius to say that she was on the verge of tears. His dark eyes looked gentle, sympathetic. "Deep breath, Lia."

She let her eyes close, breathing slowly. "I'm sorry," She mumbled. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

Looking at John again, you spoke up. "We understand," You answered softly, "Can we ask you some more questions?"

 As she nodded, the one waitress working the place, who looked one strong gust of wind from falling over, set down your three plates. Sticking a fry into your mouth once the waitress left, you met eyes with the young girl.

"You said, 'I've never seen anything, not really.' What do you mean by that?"

Lia poked at her fries, not seeming that interested in the food. She pursed her lips, before sighing. "I… We saw something, once. I think. My friends were all out there—celebrating graduation. It was… maybe 11:30? I-I can't really remember. But we saw a bright light, and then this huge thing flew over us. When it was gone… Kaya checked her watch. It couldn't have been more than ten seconds after, but her watch said it was almost 2 AM, and then Chenle checked his watch, and so did Jisung, and… they all said the same thing.

"I didn't think much of it. I tried not to. I thought we just missed the time going by, somehow. But then Nancy and Chenle got into the crash, and then Kaya turned up dead in the woods… Then Jisung, and now Alex…" She shook her head, blinking back tears. "It can't all be a coincidence."

"How old were you when that happened, Lia?"

 "I was 17. I'm turning 21 in June."

John stared at her for a long time. "...And why did you decide to call me when you heard about Nancy's death?"

Oh?

You raised an eyebrow to look at Lia, who looked down. "They called my dad about it, and I know that Nancy's death has to do with whatever's in the woods. M-my dad, he… He keeps telling me he can keep me safe. But I don't think he can."

"So you called us?"

She nodded, not looking up at either of you. John and you exchanged a glance.

"Lia," You asked lowly, "Do you think your father—"

Your words died when blood began to spew from the girl's nose, your eyes widening and John's expression growing alarmed. He reached for the napkins, handing them to you to hand her quickly. Her eyes shut and her brow furrowed, obviously distressed. John pursed his lips.

  "Does this normally h—"

 "Lia Choi."

The three of you turned your heads to see Aaron Choi and the police chief standing next to each other, glaring at you and John.

Dr. Choi walked over to Lia, handing her another napkin. "Sweetheart, come on, let's go home."

John narrowed his eyes. "I don't think she wants to leave."

"I don't give a shit about what you think," The man snapped. He turned back to Lia, "Let's go home. You'll be safe there. Remember, I said that Chief Zhong and I would keep you safe—"

You exchanged a glance with John. You could see the gears turning in his head. Skywalker moment. "You’re Chenle Zhong's father?"

The chief scowled at him. "You stay away from my boy. He has no business in any of this."

Dr. Choi managed to pull away, with minimal protest from Lia. She managed to give the two of you one last apologetic glance before being pushed out the front door by your father.

"You gotta love this place," John grumbled, reaching for Lia's plate, "Every day's like Halloween."

"They know." You were sure of it. "Choi's been hiding evidence from those medical reports, and Zhong might just have enough authority around here to get access to our rooms to set them on fire."

"Why would they want to destroy evidence?" John asked, but it wasn't really a question. It sounded more like a parent trying to get their child to figure out something obvious on a math problem. "What could they possibly want with that corpse?"

You looked down at the table, heart pounding suddenly. When you met his eyes again, they were burning with curiosity and determination.

"Makes you wonder what's in those other two graves, huh?"

PINEWOOD MEMORIAL CEMETERY, PINEWOOD, OREGON—01:26 hours, Thursday, March 19th, 1992

Getting into the cemetery was easy. Finding the graves, with only your flashlights in the pouring rain, was a lot harder. You pored over different headstones for almost forty minutes, until John called your name.

"Did you find them?" You asked, turning to him. He was scowling down at the headstones. You didn't understand why… until you looked down to see the dirt piled up, and the two holes in the ground.

"Empty," He groaned.

"What is going on here?" You cried. John stared at the hole in the ground, before a look of epiphany dawned on his face. He turned to you, slowly.

"I think I know who did it."

You looked to the sides in thought. "Who? The chief?"

John shook his head, mouth tipping open. You leaned forward, hoping to hear his words better over the rain.

He chewed nervously on his bottom lip. "The chief's son."

When the words registered, you leaned away. All the fight in you seemed to deflate, and your face twisted into a confused mess.

"What?"

He nodded, and you raised your eyebrows. "Chenle Zhong? The boy in the hospital. The boy who's been in a goddamn coma since 1989. That Chenle Zhong? He somehow got here, dug up these graves, and is somehow responsible for the murders of four different kids?"

John's eyes fell shut, and he took a deep breath. "Nancy Goldstein was wheelchair bound but ran in front of a car, it's not entirely impossible. All of this fits a profile of alien abduction. She was killed around 9—the same time we lost time in the car."

"A profile." You crossed your arms, trying to stop the shivering racking your body. March showers in the Pacific Northwest—you wouldn’t be surprised if all of this was just a delusion induced by hypothermia.

"Look, something happened during those 10 minutes," He insisted, "Time, as we know it, stopped, and it has something to do with the forest."

You shook your head in disbelief, unable to hold back your shocked sigh. All you could do was stare, watching as John's expression hardened.

"You think I'm crazy," He murmured defeatedly, "Just like everyone else does."

He turned on his heel, starting to walk away, when a soft scoff caused him to turn back. "What?"

You wore a smile of disbelief. "The hands of Nancy Goldstein's watch stopped at 9:02," You admitted, looking up at the sky before meeting his gaze. "I made a mental note of it because of how insane the coincidence was. But…"

"The forest is controlling the kids," John said with a nod. He sounded more hopeful now, as he took a step closer. "It summons them here!"

"A-and the marks are…"

"The remainders of some sort of experiment. They put that weird chemical into the bodies—"

"Which leads to genetic mutations, like the one we saw in Alex Gallagher’s body!"

John nodded, a hopeful grin spreading across his features, the rain causing his hair to fall into his eyes. "And the woods summoned Nancy Goldstein here tonight, but the one who brought her was—"

"Chenle Zhong," You gasped. Meeting eyes with John, the two of you exchanged surprised, awed, slack jawed smiles, before promptly bursting into giggles at how silly it all sounded, the sheer absurdity of it all. Like the plot of some crappy Fox TV show.

"This—Johnny, this is insane!"

"That’s just how all the x-files work!" He exclaimed between laughter, "This isn't even half of it!"

That did it for you. The idea that there had to be something even stranger, something that paled in comparison to this. You had to reach out for his shoulder to stop yourself from falling, bending over and clutching your stomach to the point of tears. John’s laughter never let up either, not until the two of you were panting, out of breath from cackling so hard.

"I can't believe any of this," You sighed, shaking your head once more.

"It doesn't matter. As long as we're on the same page," John said with a shrug, "It'll make things a whole lot easier. Now, let's get back to the car—"

A high pitched scream filled the air, and the two of you locked eyes before darting in its direction.

Right into the forest.

Mud squelched beneath your shoes as the two of you ran. It was damn near impossible to see anything with the rain and the darkness of night, the way your flashlights swung back and forth with your running.

Your light reflected onto a piece of black metal, causing the two of you to slow down. John flashed his own light side to side, before landing on the white door of the car, the crest emblazoned on it: PINEWOOD POLICE DEPARTMENT. You sighed at the revelation, turning slightly.

"Shit," He muttered, "Do you think—?"

"John." You took a step to the side, focusing your light onto something on the ground. "Look."

When he turned his head to look at what you were seeing, you heard him inhale sharply.

Dr. Choi's body lay strewn on the muddy ground, blood streaking down his temple. You couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.

Another scream pierced the air, the sound distinctly female. You exchanged a brief glance with John, before nodding in the direction the noise came from. "You go! I'll check his vitals."

"Be careful," He warned before darting off. You knelt on the ground, reaching out to feel for a pulse over the carotid artery. You let your eyes fall shut in relief when you found one a few seconds later. All you needed to do now was assess his injury.

But they snapped open when the mud squelched behind you, and when you turned your head, you saw a flash of black and beige. A loud thwack! cracked against the side of your head, and you fell to the ground, vision turning dark.

When you came to, you weren't sure how much time had passed, but it couldn't have been too long. It was still dark, and while the rain had calmed, it wasn't over yet. Sluggishly,  you reached for the flashlight, and struggled to stand.

Stumbling, you tried to surmise where the noise was coming from, but the world felt like it was spinning. You were confused, disoriented, that the sudden brightness knocked you on your ass, quite literally.

Brightness?

White, seemingly industrial light lit up the forest so suddenly that you reeled back in surprise, falling into the mud. You blinked dazedly. If this were a Loony Tunes short, there would be little Tweety birds flying around your head right about now.

Still, you knew you needed to get up. So you did, still stumbling as if someone had spun you around to hit a piñata, and carried forward. The shouting had stopped now.

In the distance, where the light was the brightest, you could hear the shouting. One of the voices was distinctly John's, but as you got closer, it stopped.

And by the time you got into the clearing? The light disappeared, and so did the rain. Gone at the same time.

There were three men standing in the clearing, seemingly in a triangle. John's back was turned to you. In front of him? Someone was lying on the floor (had you not been so dizzy, you would have recognized her as Lia), and…

"Chenle?" The police chief asked, voice shaking. Your eyes turned to the young man, whose dark eyes were wide in confusion and fear. He was barefoot, clad only in a pair of gray sweatpants.

"...Dad?" He asked as Chief Zhong walked to him, before crushing the young man in a hug.

"J-John?" Your voice was small. The man in question turned to you, eyes widening at your state. He stepped towards you, face full of concern. When you buckled, he gripped you by your forearms.

"Y/N, are you alright?"

"Th-there was a light," You murmured, "It was so…"

He nodded, smiling sympathetically. "I know," He said, "But I think you have a concussion."

"Uh…" You stared at him blearily. "...You're really strong."

He held back a snicker. "Am I now?"

FBI HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C—10:04 hours, Wednesday, March 25th, 1992

After a stop to the emergency room, a minor concussion diagnosis, a flight home, a few days of bed rest and finally that bubble bath (sans the wine, unfortunately), you were finally allowed to present your findings to your superiors, in the report you'd written in the past few days (you were advised to rest over the weekend, and you did just that and wrote the report all Tuesday).

You marched into that office, John already sitting in one of the two seats in front of the desk. He didn't speak while you presented your findings. Again, Chief Brooks was accompanied by the same two men.

"And what of the boy?" Division Chief Brooks asked, "Chenle… Zhang, you said?"

"Zhong," You and John corrected in unison, exchanging a sheepish glance when you both realized what happened.

"He's in custody. So are his father and Doctor Aaron Choi. He claims to not have remembered anything."

"I understand you and Chief Zhong had an exchange in the woods?" The older man asked, staring at John.

He nodded. "Yes, sir. I asked him what the need was to take the Chois to the woods, he seemed desperate—said that if it got his son back, then he'd do it."

"So, what, are we to believe all of this—the abductions and the mutations and the mind control without any concrete evidence?" The second officer asked.

"There was an x-ray of Chenle’s that revealed a small piece of metal lodged in his nose, just like Agent L/N's report mentioned with—"

"The Gallagher boy's implant, yes. But that could be anything, Agent Suh. It hasn't been surgically removed so we can't verify what it is."

John clenched his jaw. "But—"

"Agent Suh, with no evidence of the implant existing we simply cannot continue to waste bureau resources," The chief explained, "The fact of the matter is the original implant, as well as your other evidence, was destroyed in that fire and—"

"What if it wasn't, though?" You asked.

It was as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. All four men's eyes snapped up to look at you. John’s eyes were wide in shock.

You met eyes with him briefly as you reached into your blazer pocket, placing the small vial holding the implant onto the table.

"None of the tests I ran on the implant were able to reveal what kind of metal it is," You sighed, "It all came back as inconclusive."

"I—" For the first time, the third agent spoke for the first time. "How did you manage to salvage it?"

Tilting your head back and forth, you tried to sound professional. "I kept it… on my person at all times after I extracted it. I felt it was too important to lose."

The three men exchanged a silent conversation with their eyes. You looked at John, whose expression towards you had shifted from shock to awe. You offered him a sly smile.

"Well, then." Division Chief Brooks sounded frustrated—like a father allowing his children ice cream after being worn down by them. "Considering this… new piece of evidence, I—I suppose I could authorize the continuation of the project."

You breathed a sigh of relief. John’s shoulders sagged.

"However, Agent L/N, I will expect your reports on every single one of these cases within three days of them being closed, unless medically justified. Failure to do so will result in the termination of the project."

"Understood, sir," You said.

The third man lit a cigarette, before pointing to the vial on the table. "That implant will be kept with us, it's evidence now. Any and all evidence will be handed over to us," He ordered, taking a drag.

You nodded, but something told you John wouldn't approve. He didn't say anything, but you knew he'd have something to say sooner or later.

"You're both dismissed," Division Chief Brooks told you both.

Once you were out of the office and out of earshot, John stopped in the middle of the hallway. He put his hands on his hips and stared at you.

"I—That was… Wow. Y/N, how did you even do that?"

"Honestly?" You bit back a grin before lowering your voice. "...I hid it in my sports bra."

He broke out into a shocked smile. "In your—amazing. Y/N, you’re a genius."

"Am I now?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. You started down the hallway again, and he followed. "Thank you," He mumbled.

With a wave of your hand, you shook your head. "I'm just doing my job, y’know? Plus, I enjoyed working with you, John. I think we make a... decent team."

He looked down at his feet, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Well," He said, "If we are going to keep working together, can I ask you to do something?"

"Sure," You replied. By now, you were headed down the basement steps.

"Just… call me Johnny. John feels too… formal."

"Johnny," You sounded the name out, before smiling. "Yeah, it suits you better."

X-FILE 144-A: THE BELDAM'S GLENN BLOOD RITUALS

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE EVERETT TURNPIKE, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—07:32 hours, Thursday, February 11th, 1993

"Brief me again on this case?" Johnny sighed as he drove ahead, "I was too tired when you explained on the flight here."

You nodded, rubbing your eyes and putting on your glasses. Outside, rain hit the roof of the car, and the sky was that bluish gray tinge of an early morning drizzle. That, paired with the soft guitar from the radio along with Robert Smith's voice made for gentle ambience.

I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too

Thursday, I don't care about you

It's Friday, I'm in love...

 Pulling out the folder from your bag. Truth be told, you were tired too—you'd been called just before 3 in the morning by someone at the bureau telling you you'd been assigned to work a murder case in Beldam's Glenn, New Hampshire. A fairly small town, less than 10,000 people.

You'd had an hour to pack some clothes, then take a taxi to the bureau to grab some things from the office and pick up the file briefing the incident. Then, just before four you arrived at Reagan International, where you met a seemingly bedraggled Johnny. His suit was a bit wrinkly and there were dark circles rimming his eyes.

By now, you'd been working with Johnny for almost a year. You'd learned in that time that he did not enjoy waking up before 5 AM. 

"Good morning," You'd greeted, and he shook his head.

"It's not morning yet, and it certainly isn't gonna be a good one," He'd grumbled in response. 

"Okay, Oscar the Grouch." 

Now, in the car, flicking through the folder, you read out loud the information. A fifteen year old boy identified as Mark Lee had been found dead in the woods, near an area rumored to be where satanic cults practiced blood magic. His eyes and heart missing, torn clean out.

"...Ouch," Johnny muttered, stifling a yawn.

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Ouch."

"Any witnesses or anything?" 

"No," You mumbled, reading over more details. One in particular caught in your eye. "Huh… Additionally, animal tracks in the form of hooves, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, were found leading to Lee’s body."

Johnny tilted his head. "Hooves?"

You hummed in confirmation.

He raised his eyebrows, facing you for a second before turning his attention back to the road. His eyes were wide. Somehow, you already knew what he was going to say. "Do you think there's a small possibility—"

"No." 

Johnny huffed. "Oh, come on! Y/N, humans are innately spiritual beings. Is it so crazy to think that just maybe a creature akin to a demon could exist?"

"I don't know, Johnny. Maybe there is. But I think now that the middle ages are over and we have more logical explanations for things like this, we shouldn't immediately jump to conclusions."

For a long time, he didn’t speak. Another thing you learned during your time with Johnny was that while it was relatively easy to smother his wild conclusions during calmer discussions, it was damn near impossible to get him to let go of them completely. You knew he'd mention it again later, but for now, you were content to just drive like this with him. You were… comfortable with Johnny. 

He had a sort of dry wit that, paired with his suave persona, made him incredibly charismatic. Once you got to know him better, it surprised you that no one around your department of the bureau really liked him.

Dressed up to the eyes

It's a wonderful surprise

To see your shoes and your spirits rise...

He shrugged. "Maybe you're right. Look, there are the cop cars."

Johnny pulled over on the side of the road, one man holding an umbrella seemingly waiting for you both. You looked at the man in the driver's seat, and he nodded toward the back seat. "There's an umbrella in the back."

"Thanks," You said, grabbing the thing. You both stepped out of the car, tugging the vinyl umbrella open. You did a once over of the officer—sheriff, actually, once you saw the badge on his chest. Johnny stood behind you and grabbed the small umbrella from you, so that he could fit under it.

"You're the FBI guys?" The sheriff asked. The two of you pulled out your badges, presenting yourselves. He offered a smile, but it was obvious the middle-aged man was shaken up.

"My name is Bill McNamara," He said, beginning to walk towards the trees. The two of you followed. "Thank you for coming on such short notice." 

He led you to a spot crowded by a few more officers scattered across the space, a white sheet hiding the body, a few feet away from a large, mossy cracked tree stump, so wide it was probably older than 100 years when it fell.

"Is this Mark Lee?" Johnny asked, and Sheriff McNamara nodded. Another officer peeled the sheet back. The poor boy was, in fact, missing his eyes, and there was a large hole in his chest. Even after several years as an MD and an FBI agent, corpses still filled you with dread.

Johnny, in his proximity from behind, nudged you slightly and pointed to the ground next to the boy. 

"So," You said, turning your attention back to the officer once you noticed the hoof tracks, "Have there been any reports of missing animals in the area? Cows, sheep?"

"...Goats?" Johnny added. You nodded stiffly. Sheriff McNamara shook his head. When he spoke, he seemed resolute.

"They say this area is popular for blood rituals, witch's magic. Now, these rumors have been around for years—since I was a kid, actually."

"Any basis to those rumors?" You asked. The Sheriff gave you a look. 

"Agent L/N, just look at the body!"

"Lots of homicides involve victim desecration," You pointed out, "Is there anything else that might point to that?"

The sheriff put his free hand on his hip. "I know he and his friends listen to that disgusting devil's music."

"I didn't like Madonna's latest album either, but I don’t think it's bad enough to call it that," Johnny mumbled sarcastically. You gave him a subtle elbow in the ribs, flashing him a dirty look. The sheriff didn't seem to notice his banter.

"No, I'm talking about that heavy metal stuff. It takes root in our children, poisoning their minds."

He led you over towards the tree stump. Johnny took a more serious approach. "Have Mark Lee or any of his friends ever been spotted at any of these supposed rituals?"

"More rumors," You muttered. The sheriff shook his head, stopping in front of the stump. 

"Not that I know of," He said, before gesturing at the stump, "This is allegedly their altar. What do you think?"

Johnny's seriousness seemed to only last in short bursts, because he fired back with, "Honestly? With a few rounds of sandpaper and some cans of shellac, it'd make a pretty nice coffee table."

The sheriff replied, "Oh… Uh… Well, from the looks of this wax on it, it was probably being used when he died."

You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side in embarrassment. But then a flash of white, and translucent pale yellow on the ground caught your eyes.

"Do you know if Lee was out here with anyone?" Johnny asked, not saying anything as you stepped out from under the umbrella. You heard the sheriff say, "We presume he was alone."

"You sure?" You asked, picking up the library card, and the piece of wet paper. "This Franklin Pierce High library card belongs to… Haechan Lee. And the paper here is torn at the stamp so that it doesn't say which library it's from, but it's safe to say that it's from there. The title at the top is torn, too, but it says '...In America'."

You stepped back under the umbrella, raising an eyebrow as you handed them to him. "I'm surprised your people missed this."

The sheriff balked, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I'm sorry, Agent L/N," He murmured, "I'll admit, we're all a bit… shaken up here. This isn't something that we've ever dealt with, which is why I called the FBI. I'll have my men escort you to Franklin Pierce. That kid, Donghyuck Lee… He's Mark’s best friend. He's most likely there."

The sheriff stalked off, and you raised an eyebrow at Johnny before lowering your voice. "Better hide your Metallica albums… I could barely take him seriously."

He shrugged. "Well, the body's clearly displayed in a ceremonial manner. Plus, those goat tracks are highly unusual, Y/N." 

"I was under the impression he made you skeptical once he started speaking," You hummed, crossing your arms. He shook his head.

"I didn't wanna feed his imagination. Poor guy's clearly overwhelmed."

"I think he fed your imagination, Johnny. This is nothing but some murderer taking advantage of local folklore. I mean, there's nothing that odd about—"

The sound of slapping and bouncing against the vinyl of the umbrella caused you to jump back, crashing into Johnny's chest. Your shoulders tensed up as Johnny dropped the umbrella and let out a startled, "What the—"

You caught the umbrella as it fell from his hands, but it was too late for him. Something large, wet and brownish green hit him in the forehead before landing on the ground and flopping away. 

Your mouth dropped open and you met Johnny's equally shocked expression as you both registered the multitude of toads raining down on you. 

A few seconds later and it stopped, but now the ground was covered in toads, now jumping away in different directions. Neither you nor Johnny spoke for a good fifteen seconds, until he wiped his forehead free of… mucus. Your shoulders dropped slowly when he finally spoke.

"So… wanna get coffee before we head over to the school?"

Your face dropped from confusion to disbelief. "Johnny, toads just fell from the sky."

"Yeah, but I still want coffee."

PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—09:04 hours, Thursday February 11th, 1993

Coffee on the table, you sat at a desk situated in the school office. Your laptop, the case file and a copy of today's newspaper were laying on top of it. A few feet away from you, the school psychologist and the secretary you'd borrowed the desk from were speaking to each other. You paid them no mind, looking over the file as you typed up your preliminary report.

You continued typing until the door opened, Johnny stomping in tugging a scrawny looking teenage boy—who was most likely Haechan Lee—by the upper arm. Two girls followed meekly behind, as well as a middle-aged woman, who you assumed was a teacher. All three of the kids seemed to be on the verge of tears. You raised an eyebrow at the sight. Johnny looked pissed off, and he asked the psychologist in a clipped tone, "Hey, Doyoung, could Agent L/N and I use your office to talk to the kids?"

Doyoung looked at the boy in Johnny's grip, then at the secretary, then you, before he nodded. Johnny opened the door and made a motion for the kids to go inside. "Sit down at that table. Don't speak unless spoken to," He ordered, tone stern. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek at his voice as you stood. What had gotten into him?

You pulled him away from the doorway, lowering your voice. "You good?"

Johnny sent the boy a glare before sighing. "Kid tried jumping out the window in front of the entire class to escape. I'll calm down. Just pisses me off that he thought something that stupid would work."

You bit back a smile, patting him on the shoulder. "Pull it together, Suh. He can't get away like this."

Johnny nodded, looking down at you warmly. "Ooh, last name. I'm in trouble."

"Shut up," You huffed, only half-joking. You were about to turn when you remembered something you'd read from the cover of the newspaper.

"By the way," You murmured, "National Weather Service reported tornadoes in northern Massachusetts early this morning. The toads probably got picked up from the winds."

Johnny sighed, before walking into the psychologist's office.

He turned to the woman. "Mrs. Walker, we'll take it from here, go on back to the other kids in your class."

"Are you sure?" She asked, pushing a black, stray hair back into her tight bun. Johnny nodded.

"The one day I'm called in to sub and all of this happens," She muttered to herself. 

You spared a glance at the middle-aged woman, giving her a polite smile. She did the same, and you followed behind Johnny, pulling out your tape recorder from your pocket and closing the door behind you. 

Johnny crossed his arms and leaned against the door, you standing in front of the table and setting the tape recorder on the table. 

"This is going to be recorded," You told them. None of them protested, so you hit the record button.

"So, let's get this out of the way," Johnny began, "None of you are under arrest. We just want to ask you some questions. First, I want you to state your names for the record. Understood?" 

They all nodded, and they introduced themselves: the dark haired, tan boy was in fact Donghyuck Lee, the shorter curly haired girl was named Amy Espinoza, and the taller redheaded girl was named Phoebe Howard. 

The questions were basic and thus, so were the answers. Donghyuck and Mark were childhood best friends, but not related. Mark introduced Amy to him with Phoebe's help. Donghyuck took the book Witch Hunt: A History of The Occult in America out because he and Mark wanted to make the whole thing seem legit. When asked why they really wanted to go out there, Donghyuck looked down. He held his hands together between his thighs.

"We wanted to… you know."

"We really don't," You said, raising an eyebrow. He looked like he wanted to sink into the earth then and there.

"Mark and I had a bet that whoever got past second base with the girlsfirst  would do the other's biology homework for the rest of the year."

Amy nudged Phoebe. "Told you," She grumbled quietly. Phoebe glared at her. 

You continued the interrogation. The incantation taken from the book was apparently one meant to summon Azazel. They'd gone out there just before midnight because the book said that was the best time. 

Donghyuck insisted they didn't kill him. "I'll let you search my car and everything, that's how we got there."

"Did you see what happened?"

Phoebe took a shaky breath, before burying her face in her hands. Amy nodded. "...We did. We ran but it had already… gotten to Martin."

You and Johnny exchanged a glance. "It?" You asked. 

Donghyuck nodded. "Lady, you're gonna think we're bullshitting you—"

"Language," You and Johnny scolded in unison. Donghyuck at least had the audacity to look embarrassed. 

"We got out there," Amy continued, "Martin lit a candle on the stump and did the incantation. The wind… changed. It suddenly got a lot colder and we started hearing… I don't even know."

"It sounded like, I guess what you would call speaking in tongues," Donghyuck said. "And then suddenly, there was this thing a few feet away from us. Maybe over six feet tall, and at first I thought it was a goat, but… it wasn't."

"What did it look like?"

Phoebe cried even harder, and the other two exchanged a weary glance. "It had… glowing orange eyes, and long dark hair." Amy shuddered. "It looked like it had goat legs, but a human torso. It was like…"

"It had a… a woman’s chest," Donghyuck mumbled. Your eyes landed on Phoebe, who seemed to be extremely upset. You exchanged a glance with Johnny. He seemed to understand what you were saying, and nodded wordlessly.

"Phoebe, are you alright?" You asked, feeling that something was up. She was shaking like a leaf. With a sigh, you turned the recorder off, and pointed at Amy and Donghyuck. "Both of you, wait outside on that chair. Don't move."

The two of them left, and you nodded at Johnny to sit next to you. 

"Phoebe," Johnny said softly, "Is there something going on that the other two don't know?"

She wiped her eyes, lip wobbling. You put a hand on his shoulder, taking over. "No, there isn't," She mumbled, "I'm just… this whole thing's freaked me out."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. She didn't sound very convincing. Something wasn't right here. Still, you knew it would be hard to get anything out of her when she was so upset.

"Alright. You—you're free to go." You took a deep breath, hesitating before you spoke again. 

"...But if you do want to tell us anything, you can come to us and we can—we'll speak off the record, if it makes you feel better."

Johnny frowned. "I think maybe—"

You flashed him a strong glare, cutting him off, before turning back to Phoebe. She sniffled, eyes darting between the two of you. When she settled on you, she allowed herself to relax a little bit more than when she'd been looking at Johnny. She nodded wordlessly, fiddling with a silver charm bracelet on her left wrist, and you gestured towards the door. "Go wash your face, drink some water. Tell your friends they're free to go. 'Kay?"

She gave a small smile at your gentler tone. Once she was gone, Johnny was on you. "We could have pressed her further. Why did you even offer to go off the record if we haven't ruled her off as a suspect, that's breaking bureau protocol—" 

"We'll talk about this later," You answered as you stood. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the three teenagers leave.

He lowered his voice as you opened the door. "Y/N, I can't believe—"

"You're letting them go?" The secretary—Beatrice, you believed was her name—asked, glaring at you. Her coiffed blonde bob bounced as she shook her head disapprovingly. Immediately, Johnny straightened. 

"There's not enough evidence to keep them here," He said, "Besides, they're minors. It's always tricky with them."

"It's so obvious that they did it." Doyoung crossed his arms, "They've clearly been influenced by all that stuff on MTV."

You sighed. "The FBI recently concluded a years long study researching any correlation between homicides and media consumption and found that it only occurs in 0.01% of cases. If there were any it would mean thousands of people murdering tens of thousands of other people. It'd be the biggest conspiracy in human history."

Doyoung scoffed, giving you a mocking glance. "Yeah, and J. Edgar Hoover never admitted the existence of the mafia. Really trustworthy source, the FBI."

Johnny barely contained his scoff. He glowered at Doyoung as he gently pushed your upper back towards the door. 

"Our investigation is ongoing."

ROSE GARDEN HOTEL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—19:57 hours, Thursday, February 11th, 1993

Johnny's door opened to a sight of you, no makeup, in sweatpants and hair tied up. You took in his appearance. He had on a similar pair of sweatpants, and a white t-shirt. His hair was pushed back, and he was wearing his reading glasses. 

"What's up?" He asked, letting you in. 

"I found something," You murmured, holding up your laptop as he closed the door. You sat at the foot of the bed, and he sat next to you. You opened the laptop, green text flashing onto the screen. His shoulder brushed yours due to the proximity. 

"'The grisly discovery of a young boy's mutilated body in the woods in the early morning has local law enforcement worried about the organization of conspiratorial dark forces.'"

He nodded. "Okay, is that from this morning's newspaper?"

You didn't answer, but rather read another quote from the article. "'The Jew is known to sacrifice teenagers and remove their organs during their religious rituals.' This is from a Nazi newspaper, from 1934. I found another similar case from 1967, where they pinned it on LSD users. The details are always the same, they just fill in the blanks with whoever was being persecuted at the time."

Johnny met your eyes. "And this time, it's occultists."

"Maybe this is some hidden organization, but I'm not sure. But something's just… not right. I have a bad feeling." 

"Something to do with that girl?"

You nodded. "Is there anything you picked up? Something I might not have noticed?"

He chewed on his lip. "Now that you mention it, I did notice something a few minutes ago, but it doesn't have to do with her. Come on."

He stood, and you set the laptop down on the bed before following him to the bathroom door, where he flicked the light on.

"So, we're in the northern hemisphere." He marched to the sink, leaning over it.

You leaned against the doorframe. "Last time I checked, yes."

He pressed the plug into the sink drain, before turning on the faucet. "The Coriolis Effect dictates that due to the Earth's rotation, water should swirl clockwise, right?"

You nodded, having an idea of where this is going. He motioned for you to come closer. He turned off the faucet. By now, some water had filled the sink just enough. He removed the plug, and you watched as the water went down, whirlpool swirling counterclockwise. 

"Johnny—"

"Something is here, Y/N. It's strong enough to affect this, then who knows—"

"Johnny, the Coriolis Effect works on storms and large bodies of water. Sinks and bathtubs usually don't fall under—"

He groaned, tipping his head back. "Of course," He grumbled, "It's been like this since day one."

You squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. Yes, in your time working with Johnny, you'd seen some truly unexplainable things. A pyromaniac that could light things on fire with his mind, a prehistoric parasite that turned its host violent, a serial killer that entered houses by squeezing his body through impossibly small spaces like an octopus. 

But still, you always had your doubts. "Johnny, once cases are over and we have our explanations, and I've seen things for myself, have I ever not believed you—"

"You don't trust me during these cases, Y/N, that's what matters! It's always been like this, I'm always right, but you never believe me, you go off and write your little notes about me like I'm some field experiment—"

You frowned and crossed your arms. "Johnny—"

"Have I ever gotten anything wrong? 90% of the time, my conclusions are the correct ones—"

"We come to those conclusions together! Don't start taking credit for them now."

"Oh, so you believe it only when your name is also on the report, huh?"

"Don't twist my words, Johnny. You know what I mean. I believe my conclusions first, and then I listen to yours and based on circumstantial evidence and once I discard all logical scientific explanations, then I turn to the extraordinary. I don't jump to conclusions like you do!"

"Why can't you be a good friend for once and fucking listen to me—"

"Because I'm not your friend, Johnny! I'm your fucking coworker!"

The silence that filled the room once you were done was deafening. It was only then that you realized how loud you'd gotten. The shocked disappointment in Johnny's eyes seemed to be even louder, though. 

Immediately, you realized your mistake. Yes, you'd grown close to him, but that was necessary for working well on these assignments. Keeping your work life and your personal life separate was paramount for you. Evidently, Johnny didn't feel the same, and as a result, you'd hurt him.

For a long time, no one said anything. Simply staring at each other, small space ripe with tension. Your eyes softened when he looked away from you, leaning his back against the counter. You took a step closer, until he was right in front of you.

"Johnny, I—"

"Can you get out, please?"

You stared at him for a few moments, trying to think of something to say. 

Ultimately, you didn't. You took a deep sigh, and grabbed your laptop on the way out.

Being an FBI meant you had little to no personal time, working pretty much 7 days a week and being on call for anything at any time, in any part of the country. You knew that when you started your training.

You'd entered with a statement and left with a question. Could you really call Johnny a friend? You really only saw him during work. You didn’t meet outside of it—but considering how much you worked, always on call and spending nights holed up with him in hotel rooms or in your office going over evidence of different cases, at what point did you start spending more time at work than at your day to day life?

PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—10:11 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

You were looking between the notes you’d scribbled down on a small notepad using a pen you’d stolen from Johnny the day before. It was while you were transferring them to the report on your computer that you jumped in your seat when the office door burst open. Mrs. Walker guided a sniffling Phoebe Howard into the room. Johnny, who had been speaking to Doyoung to ask him about other students, turned his head. 

Doyoung held up a hand, to which Johnny nodded, and the shorter man walked over to the two of them. "Phoebe, are you alright?"

She shook her head, breaking into tears again, unable to speak. Doyoung turned to Mrs. Walker, who simply patted her head. "Lab project," She murmured, "They had to dissect pig embryos. She just… broke down. I've seen it happen before. Some kids are just more sensitive than others."

"No, no, it's not that," Phoebe blubbered, "Can I…"

Despite everything that had happened last night, when you looked at Johnny, you saw he'd done the same. A tense, knowing stare was shared between the two of you, and then Phoebe spoke.

"Can I speak to Agent L/N please?"

Your head snapped to her when she said your name. You stood, and nodded.

You lead her out the door while ignoring Doyoung’s frown and Mrs. Walker's confused look. Johnny followed behind at a distance. 

The three of you went out the door, to the outdoor lunch tables. You had Phoebe sit down, Johnny and you remained standing. 

"What is it you wanted to talk about, Phoebe?" You said gently.

She took a shaky breath, rubbing her hands together. "So… Do you know who my stepdad is?"

Thinking back to when you'd made a basic profile on the three kids yesterday afternoon, you nodded. "He's the gym coach here, right? Grant Howard?"

She nodded. "So… he married my mom when I was 6. And he adopted me when I was 8. One year after that my mom got a new job, a-and she started travelling a lot, y'know? So I was alone with him a lot more. I-I don't know when it started, but…"

The sinking feeling in your chest grew as she started to cry again.

"S-sometimes when she wasn't here, h-he would invite people over. They'd come i-in with these red cloaks and they—would bring small animals. Kittens a-and puppies, birds sometimes… They would take me down to the basement, to a room where the walls are painted red and there's this dirt floor, and they would—they would stand in a circle and sing and they would give m-me knives, o-or screwdrivers and…"

You sat down next to her, rubbing her shoulder as she let out a gut-wrenching cry. Looking at Johnny, the hand that wasn't in his trench coat pocket was balled into a fist. He was looking down, eyebrows furrowed.

"I didn't want to!" She wailed, "They would hurt me if I didn't, they said they would hurt my mom if I said anything! I had to be the one to kill the animals and then they w-would drink the blood—I don't know how I blocked it out or why I never remembered it until Mrs. Walker put the—the pig on the table, and I… I… I just…"

"It's okay, honey," You murmured, nodding. She buried her head into your shoulder, sobbing freely, and you rubbed her back to soothe her. 

Again, you looked at Johnny, who didn't look at you. You realized just how difficult it would be to keep this off the record—this was something that involved a child being abused, you couldn’t let her go home to a dangerous situation. 

This just got a whole lot more complicated. 

HOWARD RESIDENCE, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—15:49 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

Phoebe was to remain at school. Donghyuck and Amy would pick her up, and she would spend the night with Amy. She wouldn't be going home until the situation was thoroughly investigated. She'd been left with Doyoung, who would speak to her as a mandated reporter, and would later go back to attempt to finish the project. You left her your number in case she needed to speak to you again. 

You'd spoken to Mrs. Walker as her final class was out, just before you and Johnny left. The lab was spacious. A large python lay sleeping in a glass case in the corner of the room. The space was ripe with the smell of blood, which didn't surprise you, given the amount of pig embryos she was having her students dissect all day long.

The woman had a soft voice, and seemed very sympathetic to Phoebe's struggle. "I absolutely understand, I might have her do something else for her grade, but I'm afraid I might not be able to find any other activity on such short notice."

You nodded, sighing. "Of course. Thank you for considering, regardless." 

Your eyes fell to her desk, where a small basket of random items glinted with a small charm bracelet, the same bracelet you'd seen on—

"Ah, the students usually ask me to hold onto their things when we get messy like this," She said with a smile when she noticed where you were looking. "You said you're a doctor, so you understand, right?"

"Oh, yes. I can't really wear anything at all," You said with a soft chuckle.

"Not even a ring? Oh, your husband must be disappointed." 

You felt your face heat up, scratching your neck awkwardly. "I'm not married."

She smiled. “Oh, good for you then. It’s literal hell. And, you get to ogle your partner all day.”

You choked on your spit, coughing awkwardly. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

She laughed, waving her hands, “Oh, Agent L/N, don’t be so modest. You can’t deny that Agent Suh is an absolute dish. Why, if I were 25 years younger… oh my, the things I would—”

“I really must be going, Mrs. Walker,” You insisted quickly. “I’ll contact you should I have any other questions for you."

“Could I have your phone number, in case anything comes up? I-I’ll admit, this whole situation has frightened me a bit.”

You nodded sympathetically, ignoring how uncomfortable you’d felt a moment ago. Pulling out Johnny's pen and your notepad, and you jotted down your number there.

“Y/N?” A knock sounded, and Johnny popped his head in the door. “We need to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” You replied, tucking the notepad back into your pocket. You bid Mrs. Walker goodbye, and off you went, kitten heels clacking as you went.

As for your time with Johnny? The entire ride there was tense.

“Were you expecting that?” He asked a few minutes into the ride. You raised an eyebrow.

“The secret cult that forced a nine year old girl to murder puppies and kittens?” You answered in a clipped tone, “No, John. I can’t say I was.”

He hummed. "Okay… no tape recorder today?"

"I forgot it. Left it at the hotel."

He nodded, and that was that. 

Her mother and adoptive stepfather were, to say the least, shocked at their daughter's confession. You spoke to the girl's mother in the living room, Johnny spoke to her father. Mrs. Howard, whom Phoebe had insisted had never said anything was beside herself, crying as she spoke to you.

“Mrs. Howard, you’re absolutely sure you’ve never witnessed any violent behavior from your husband?”

She nodded, sniffling. “He’s always treated me and Phoebe very kindly. In front of me, at least.”

You hummed, looking down at the carpeted floor. “You said this is your husband's house, and he’s lived here longer than you have? Have you been in all parts of the house? Is there maybe an area a guest might not know about?”

She looked up at the ceiling in thought. “After hearing what Phoebe told you both, it made me realize that I’d never been in the basement. Grant’s always said that was his woodworking space, and he didn’t want anyone in there.”

With a nod, you looked at her. “Could my partner and I maybe take a look at--” 

A commotion from the kitchen cut you off.

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING OF THE SORT! I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE ACCUSING ME OF, SUH!”

You shot up, and so did Mrs. Howard, just in time to see Grant Howard push Johnny into the cabinet. Your training kicked in, and you stepped between the two, holding up your hands to placate the man. 

“Calm down, now,” You growled, dangerously low, “Or I will place you under arrest for assault of an officer.” 

“Grant,” Mrs. Howard called, “Breathe.”

“Leave, both of you! If you want to see my basement, get a damn warrant and you’ll see there’s nothing down there!”

You tugged Johnny away by the wrist, leaving out the front door. “What happened?” 

Johnny shook his head in aggravation. “I asked to see the basement, said that it would clear my suspicions of him. He said he didn’t hurt Phoebe, and I said I didn’t believe him. Then he snapped, grabbed me by the collar and shook me.”

He unlocked the car. “Should we try and get that warrant?”

You got into the passenger seat, shrugging. “I can do it.”

Johnny nodded. “Hopefully we’ll find—”

A ringing from Johnny’s phone caught him off guard. He fished the phone out from his pocket, answering, “Suh.”

“Sheriff, what’s going on?”

You could hear him through the speaker, and you didn't like what you heard. 

"We'll be there right away," Johnny said, face turning serious.

ROOM 471, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—17:37 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

"You're saying she just… had a seizure?"

"I was sitting at the desk, and she was about halfway through the dissection when she just… collapsed on the floor," Mrs. Walker said, voice trembling, "She was shaking and her eyes were rolled up into her head… Agent L/N, it was terrifying."

You sighed and looked at Johnny, who was speaking with the sheriff. When you looked back at Mrs. Walker, she was shaking her head. "I feel a dark force is among us, Agent L/N," She murmured, putting a hand on her chest, "So many horrible things in such a short span of time."

"Agent Suh and I are working hard to solve the case, Mrs. Walker. I promise we're doing our best."

"Y/N," Johnny called, "We gotta go."

You bid the older woman goodbye, and she gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Once you were out the door with Johnny, your voice lowered. "What do you got?"

"Not a lot. The Howards have been notified, but Grant Howard isn't being allowed into her hospital room."

"Who called the police?"

"Clinton."

"Clinton?" 

He shook his head, grimacing to himself. "Shit, sorry. Beatrice Pratt. The secretary." 

You stared at him. "Pratt and Clinton don't sound alike at all."

"Well, yeah, but…" He scratched his head and lowered his voice. "The pantsuit and the bob remind me of the first lady."

You frowned. "I wear pantsuits all the time."

"Yeah, but you don't look like Hillary Clinton."

You sighed. You didn’t have time for this, especially when he was still mad at you. "Okay. Sure, whatever. I talked to Walker. I… I'm not so sure about her."

Johnny tilted his head. "Why not?"

"I don't know. I don't have a lot to go off of, but it seems just a little bit odd that she shows up the morning of Mark Lee's death, replacing a man who apparently hasn't missed a day in a fifteen year career."

"Maybe he had an emergency. Happens to everyone."

"Johnny, he contracted flesh eating bacteria. Does that sound like something that happens to everyone?"

He didn't answer. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting that. "Ohhh-kay, then. Let's do this. The sheriff said that the warrant should be ready within a few hours. Howard would probably beat my ass if he sees me again, so you check out that basement, and I can do the background check on Walker. Sound good?"

"Actually, I don't think you'll need a warrant."

The two of you turned, stunned, to see Grant Howard standing in front of you both. His eyes were rimmed red and he was clearly restless, shifting his weight onto his legs constantly. 

"Agent L/N, I'll show you the basement."

HOWARD RESIDENCE, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—18:09 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

"My entire life," The man said, sounding tired, "I was taught that humans are no better, no worse than animals. Do what thou willst, rather than do unto others." 

He pulled open the basement door, gesturing for you to go first. Immediately, you were on edge. If you had your back turned he could easily push you down the stairs or hit you in the head.

"You go down first," You ordered. He nodded understandingly. "You were saying?""My family has kept this religion for seven generations. My great, great, great, great grandfather was born in 1777, Agent L/N, and he was the one who brought us into it. We've been keeping it alive since, with two other families. It kept us in good health, we had no money problems."

When the two of you got to the bottom of the stairs, he turned the light on and you realized Mrs. Howard had been right, it did look like a normal woodworking space. Until Mr. Howard pulled a rug up from the ground to reveal a hatch, which he pulled up to reveal another set of stairs.

"I was raised to believe that Christianity was synonymous with hypocrisy. And for years, I believed that." He led you down this pair of stairs again, where he lit his flashlight. The room was a bit smaller than the basement but still large enough to keep a large group of people like Phoebe had said. Also identical to her story were the red walls and the dirt floor.

 "Believed?"

"Believed," He confirmed. "I believed until I saw it in my own religion as well, not even an hour ago. When I got to the school to gather my things and was met by the heads of the other 2 families, asking me to pin the murder of Mark Lee on my own daughter. That if she were permanently affected by what just happened, we could get away with all of it. That was when I knew that I was better than an animal. I need to keep Phoebe and Linda safe."

"So one of you did murder Lee," You murmured, trying to get a solid confession. However, he shook his head. "I didn't. The others insist they didn't either." 

"Who did, then?"

He sighed. "Agent L/N, you have to understand, I'm trained in these arts so I know when there’s a difference somewhere. Something is here. Something bad."

 You frowned. "Alright. Did you or did you not abuse your daughter?"

"I never laid a hand on her. The others, however… they wanted to make sure she would stay quiet through fear, and they wouldn't listen to me. We have a ritual that blocks out memories, every time we would perform that ritual when we were done. The plan was to reveal the memories when she turned 18, and then allow her to join or reject the religion. It's a rite of passage."

"Why even use Phoebe in the first place?"

He shook his head. "The magic of an innocent soul is a powerful thing. It's one of the most powerful things we could ever use in our magic. That's also why we used those sacrifices. She was the youngest of all of our children. The others were all past 11 at that age."

With a sigh, you led him up back to the main basement. "Would you be willing to give me a written statement of who the heads of these families are?"

He nodded. "Of course. I just want my daughter and my wife to be safe. They believe that whatever's here wants a sacrifice. That it took Mark Lee as a warning to us, and unless it gets a sacrifice from us…"

"It'll strike again," You finished."And it won't stop." He sounded desperate. You found your notepad, but the pen was nowhere to be found. "Do you have a—"

Your cellphone ringing interrupted you. You groaned quietly, scooping it from your pocket. "Hello?"

"Y/N?" You heard Johnny's voice say. His tone was urgent. There was a faint crackle of static, but as you listened it began to get louder. "I'm at the school. You need to hurry, Y/N, there's something—!"

The static overpowered the sound of his voice, and then the call dropped. "Johnny? Johnny! Hello?"

Your heart dropped, and you tucked the phone and the notepad into your pocket. "I need to go. My partner's in trouble."

"I'll go with you," He offered.

You shook your head. "No. You're under arrest."

"What? But—"

"You just admitted to animal abuse, your complicity in child abuse and conspiracy. If I take you to the school, how do I know you won't take the other two and bolt?" You snapped. "Against that beam, there.

Pulling out some handcuffs, you forced him against the side of the stairs, where you handcuffed him to the railing. "I'll come back for you later," You growled, "Don't move."

Rushing up the stairs, and out the door, into the rain, you ran towards the car. Johnny needed you. 

Your friend needed you.

FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—18:30 hours, February 12th, 1993

You burst into the school, trying to keep calm despite the horrid feeling in your gut. You eyed the office, which was right next to the main entrance. The lights were on, you could see your laptop was on. But the seat was empty, and so was the rest of the office, or so it seemed to be from where you were standing. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your gun, and entered the office slowly. 

"Hello?" You called, looking into the window of Doyoung’s office. Empty. The principal's office? Empty. Your mouth felt dry. 

Where was Johnny?

"Y/N?"

In a moment your professors at the academy would've been ashamed to see, you shrieked, and turned the gun in the direction the voice came from. But when you realized it was Johnny with a styrofoam coffee cup, whose eyes had gone wide at the sight of the gun pointed at him, you lowered it.

"Don't fucking scare me like that," You muttered as you tucked the gun into its holster. A second later, you raced forward, engulfing him in a hug as you realized that he was okay.

"Y/N? What's… going on?"

You pulled away once it registered what you'd done. "Sorry," You mumbled. "What happened? Where did the thing go?"

"Y/N, what are you talking about?"

You shook your head in confusion. "You called me. You said you were in danger. My heart fell out of my ass, Johnny, what happened?"

Johnny's face contorted at your statement. "Huh? Y/N, I never even touched my phone. I was running the background check on Walker—who, by the way, is pretty much clear in the system. But… I don't know."

Staring at him, you put your hands on your hips. "Johnny, I heard your… never mind. We have to go. Howard confessed."

His eyebrows shot up. "He did it?"

"No, but he admitted to conspiracy and has names. Come on, we have to go."

For the millionth time today, you made your way from the school to the Howard residence, where you found the door was still open. As you opened the door to the basement, you looked at him.

"He's down here."Johnny turned on his flashlight, and you followed him down the steps. The room was eerily quiet, and when Johnny flashed the light at where you said he was, it was empty.You huffed at the sight of the empty handcuffs. How had he slipped out of them?

"Y/N," Johnny said, flashing the light a few feet away, "Look."

You turned to see what he was pointing at. Your eyes widened at the sight of bones, tinged pink with the small chunks of meat still attached to it.

"Do you think it might be some kind of acid?" You asked, and Johnny shook his head.

"There's no sign of a reaction on the floor," He answered, flashing the light around the basement floor. He stopped a few feet away. You felt yourself grow even more confused.

"Is that—?

""Snakeskin," Johnny whispered, "...There's a python in Walker's class."

"B-but, that's not possible," You muttered, "It would take a snake hours to consume a grown man, and weeks to digest it!"

Johnny grabbed your wrist, shaking his head at your rambling. "C'mon, Einstein," He told you, "We gotta go pay Walker a visit."

ROOM 471, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—19:01 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

The school was a lot darker than when it had been when you had been there previously. Seeing the halls, which you'd grown used to being full and lit up, suddenly so dark and empty made you uneasy.

 It was raining a lot harder now. The sound of the rain pelting the roof made it harder to listen for anything. When you got to Walker's room, it was also dark. She said she'd be here until eight grading papers, but the room was empty. There were some broken beakers on one of the lab tables, and when you really strained your ears to listen, the sound of soft yet strained breathing could be heard behind the desk. 

"Mrs. Walker?" You called, slowly walking towards the desk. Johnny tried the light, but to no avail. The rain must have knocked it out.

The woman was on the floor, nose bleeding and leg bent at an angle at which legs weren't meant to bend at all. She seemed to have been hit in the head, a sizable lump protruding from her temple.

"Th-the snake—" She mumbled, "They took the snake—He hit me,"

"Who, Mrs. Walker, who?"

"Kim," She spat out, "Pratt. I think they—think they killed that boy."

Doyoung and Beatrice. You and Johnny exchanged glances, and you remembered what Grant had said.

"Did you see where they went, Mrs. Walker?" Johnny asked. She blinked hazily.

"Said something about the conference room," She muttered.

"We'll call paramedics for you, okay?" You stood, trying to reassure her gently. "You'll be fine."

Johnny had already picked up the phone. Thunder crackled overhead as he dialed the number, but you could hear the busy tone all the way from where you were standing

."Damn storm is jamming the signal," He said, "Y/N, we gotta go, now."

"Johnny, what about—"

"Y/N," He growled, "Now."

Something about his tone set you off, and you did as he said. He immediately shut the door, and sped up his steps down the hall. 

"What was that about?" You asked, turning on your flashlight and trying to keep up with his pace. 

"Y/N, do you have that pen you borrowed from me yesterday?" He asked, not slowing down. Thunder rumbled overhead.

"What?" He had a point, probably. He always did when he got like this. "No, I dropped it I think."

"The pen was on Walker's desk. Next to the phone. Next to Phoebe's bracelet. It was my pen."

You inhaled sharply as Johnny tugged the door to the conference room open. "What are you implying?"

"Walker was clear in the system. But when I was talking to the principal yesterday, she couldn't even remember hiring her. What are the odds that a woman pops up out of nowhere the same day a murder happens?"

You pulled a filing cabinet open, looking through random folders. "Okay, yes, we agree. But what if—"

"Y/N, did you not see how tall she was?"

You shook your head, turning to pull out some papers from a file. "Sure, she's a bit taller than average, but she's shorter than you—"

"She's slouching to look smaller. Trust me, I did that when I was younger. If she stood up straight, she would be taller than me. Donghyuck said the thing that grabbed Mark was tall, had female breasts, and had dark hair. She fits the profile."

You sighed. "I mean, maybe you—"

A thud! and a groan from Johnny had you turning your head. Your flashlight landed on Johnny, on the ground, unconscious. Your body turned cold. 

"Johnny—?"

But then you felt something hit you in the back of the head, and everything went dark. 

Your eyes cracked open at the sensation of being dragged, and as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized two things. 

One, you arms and legs were bound, and there was a gag placed in your mouth. You craned your head, and Johnny was in the same situation as you, only he was still unconscious. 

And two, you were being dragged by Hillary Clinton. 

Shit, no. Maybe you'd hit your head harder than expected. Your vision cleared up further, and you realized it wasn't, in fact, Hillary Clinton, but rather Beatrice Pratt. Doyoung was dragging Johnny, and then you realized what was going on. 

These were the others that Grant Howard had been referring to. They seemingly hadn't realized you were awake yet. You were in the school gymnasium, headed towards a doorway in the corner. The room was dark, occasionally lit by flashes of lightning.

"—The showers, right?" Doyoung asked, sounding out of breath. Beatrice huffed. 

"Yes. The blood will get washed away there."

You couldn’t move your hands, no matter how much you squirmed. Your eyes looked at Johnny, who was beginning to stir. His brows furrowed, mouth trying to form words. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Doyoung hummed, disdain dripping from his voice, “Lovely.”

Johnny’s eyes cracked open, immediately glaring at Doyoung, who chuckled. “Please. I’m terrified.”

“Doyoung, shut up,” Beatrice snapped. “Open the door.”

Doyoung let Johnny’s legs fall onto the floor. Johnny groaned in discomfort as Doyoung opened the door, propping it open with something.

He approached Johnny again, but before he picked him up to drag him further, he landed a swift kick to Johnny’s gut. Johnny let out a muffled moan in pain, and you thrashed against your restraints.

“You just had to come and ruin everything, huh? This is a once in a century opportunity, and you--” He proceeded to kick Johnny again, over and over, “Just--won’t--quit.”

“Doyoung!” Beatrice snapped. “We don’t have time for this. Don’t you sense it getting angrier? If we don’t sacrifice them now, it’ll take us like it took Grant.”

Doyoung turned to her, breathing heavily through his nose. “Fine,” He bit out.

They dragged you into the bathrooms, leading you to the showers, where they dumped you both next to each other. You rolled onto your side to look at Johnny, whose eyes were screwed shut in pain. His breathing was labored. 

You squirmed again, trying to free yourself as the shower roared to life. Curling in on yourself as cold water soaked your body, you tried to think of a way to save both Johnny and yourself. Doyoung and Beatrice pulled out large daggers from their  coat pockets, and raised their arms to the sky. They began chanting in latin, but the roar of water, the shock of the cold temperature, and the panic beginning to set in caused the words to blur together. 

This was it. You and Johnny were going to die. 

Until the two of them crumpled on top of you. You jumped as Doyoung’s weight toppled onto you, eyes squeezing shut in pain. His elbow had landed on your stomach. For a moment, as you lay there reeling in pain, and you wondered if this was a part of the ritual. But then…

"Agent L/N?" Your eyes shot open, and you met eyes with Amy Espinoza. She managed an awkward attempt at a polite smile, fiddling with what she was holding in her hands. Your eyes widened when you registered the shotgun. A flashlight was duct-taped haphazardly to the barrel, probably so that she could see wherever she was aiming.

"Mmh-hffpnffh?" You couldn't stop yourself from trying to speak, unable to contain your surprise. 

A second set of hands turned off the shower, and you craned your neck to see Donghyuck Lee, holding an old baseball bat underneath his armpit. He pulled Beatrice off of Johnny, making a disgusted face. "I always knew there was something up with her," He grumbled, "She never laughed at my jokes."

"Yeah, 'cause you're annoying as shit," Amy countered, pushing Doyoung to the side. "Can you guys sit up?"

She untied your hands, and you got to work on untying your feet before pulling the gag off of your mouth. 

"What are you two doing here?" Johnny asked, voice raspy and out of breath. 

You stood up, wiping water off of your face. "Where did you get that gun?"

 "Oh." Amy suddenly sounded embarrassed. "I, uh… Stole it from my dad?

"Donghyuck helped Johnny stand. "We went to visit Phoebe in the hospital, Mr. Suh—"

"Agent Suh," Johnny corrected, bringing a hand to his stomach. "Whatever. Anyway, we went to visit and once she woke up she told us something… not good."

"Mrs. Walker is the thing," Amy said. "Phoebe said she was dissecting the pig and she saw her grab the bracelet she'd given her—"

"And she did something and her eyes turned orange, like the thing we saw in the woods!" Amy continued. "The officer that was there didn't believe her, but we did."

"So we decided to take matters into our own hands," Donghyuck said. "She killed our best friend, so we thought—"

"That coming to your school with a shotgun and a wooden baseball bat, to kill a demon was the best course of action?" You didn't sound amused, and the two of them exchanged a look.

Amy looked down. "Well… when you put it like that…"

"It doesn't matter," Johnny said. "You kids need to go home now. It's not safe for either of you." 

"Like hell we're going anywhere! We were able to save you guys, so—"

“You kids got lucky this one time," You pointed out, sounding stern, "Agent Suh and I are trained for dangerous situations like this. You two aren't, and we certainly aren't about to expose you kids to one. Go home."

You searched your pockets, not finding your gun. You crouched to look through Doyoung and Beatrice's pockets, handing Johnny's gun to him and putting your gun back into your holster.

"But—"

A large crack of thunder startled you all, and the ground seemed to rumble as it did. Johnny looked past you and the kids, at the end of the shower hallway, and inhaled sharply.

"Oh, that's so much worse than Hillary Clinton," He mumbled. You didn't even see what he meant, but in that split second something in you took over. You pulled Donghyuck behind you, Johnny grabbing Amy and doing the same. 

At the same time, Amy aimed the gun to where Johnny had been looking, the light landing on...

Donghyuck gasped. "Holy shit."

It was like exactly what Donghyuck had said, except worse. Glowing, orange eyes, goat legs, stringy black hair. Johnny was right—standing like this, she was much taller than him. Her jaw was unhinged, open impossibly wide. She was panting heavily, hobbling slowly towards you. 

You and Johnny pulled out your guns, shooting instantly. One hit her in the shoulder, the other in the stomach. Her jaw opened even further, and a blood curdling screech echoed throughout the tiled room. 

Then she broke out into a run. 

You forced yourself to stand still, shooting another round before she jumped over you. Out of the corner of your eye, Donghyuck swung the bat, hitting her in the leg, causing her to fall face first to the ground.

 Taking that advantage, Johnny fired another round into her back. She shrieked again, and you and Johnny took the opportunity to run out the door, pushing the kids with you.

"Go! Both of you, now," You ordered once you were in the gym again. They shook their heads. Donghyuck held up his bat.

"We're not leaving without—"

"Donghyuck, this isn't a movie," Johnny insisted, "Now go!"

 Amy grabbed his arm. "Hyuck, they're right, we have to—LOOK OUT!"

You turned to see what had once been Mrs. Walker stick its head out of the doorway. Amy was able to fire one last shot into it, with her shotgun. You didn’t see where it hit—the door shut and you heard one final wail. 

A few moments later, the lights flickered on. You stood there, clothes dripping onto the hardwood floor for a good minute or so, until you looked at Johnny, who wore a pained grimace. "I can check," You told him. "Stay here with the kids." 

"You sure?" He asked. You nodded, holding out your gun and slowly making your way towards the door. You spared the odd trio one final glance. 

Johnny—soaking wet hair falling into his eyes—was standing in front of them, aiming his gun at the door. Donghyuck was holding his bat up, Amy's MacGyver-esque flashlight gun making you squint.

Then, you opened the door. You could feel your heart hammering a mile a minute. Very slowly, you scanned the room. You stopped when you glanced at the showerhead Beatrice and Doyoung had placed you under—the same one they should have been under, knocked unconscious. You swallowed a lump in your throat. 

Because they weren’t there, and neither was Mrs. Walker. What you did see, however, were two large streak of blood dragged up the wall and to a window, staining the green tiles.

PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—20:47 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

The four of you made your way back to the main building on high alert. The rain seemed to have stopped once the thing was gone. Amazingly, there wasn't even a cloud in the sky. Even the air felt different—cleaner.

Shockingly, this time when Johnny tried the phone again, it worked. In order, he called the sheriff, who had no issue believing the ordeal you had gone through. Then the principal, who was incredibly confused as to how four of her teachers could vanish in one night.

 And then, you turned to the kids and gestured to the phone. "Alright, your turn now. Call your parents, both of you."

If they were more afraid of the murderous hellspawn they'd just helped you fight off, it didn't show. "Please just let us go now, Agent L/N," Donghyuck pleaded, "My mom will never let me leave my house again after this."

Amy shook her head. "My dad's gonna kill me if he finds out I stole the gun again."

Johnny made a face. "Again?"

She turned even paler when she realized her screw up. "I'm not going to omit witnesses from a report because you'll get grounded," You told them. "You're good kids, with good intentions. You just lost someone and had another friend go through something traumatic, we get that. But what you did tonight was incredibly dangerous, reckless, and—and—"

"Stupid?" Johnny offered.

"Johnny!" You snapped, lowering your voice. He shrugged.

You sighed, trying to get them to understand. "Alright, listen. There's a Yellow Pages over on that desk. If you don't call them, I will, or the sheriff will. Which would scare your parents less, huh? Getting a call from their kids, from the sheriff's department, or from the goddamn federal bureau of investigation?"

If they didn't get it before, they definitely understood now. Amy took the fall first, telling her dad she'd brought her car to the school, had gotten into trouble, and needed him to come by to talk to the police. She left out the gun, much to your amusement.

While Donghyuck did the same, you pulled Johnny into the hallway to speak to him.

"Are you okay?" You asked, "Doyoung seemed to kick you pretty hard." 

"I'll take a few days off once we get back to DC, I'll be fine," He murmured. He leaned against the wall and winced.

You nodded, but weren't sure how to respond. Finally, you spoke again.

"Look, about last night," You said softly, and he looked up in thought. 

"What about it?" He didn't seem to want to meet your eyes.

You took a step forward. "Johnny, other than when we first met, have I ever treated you like you were crazy?" 

Your voice was quieter now, gentler in its approach. He looked to the side, crossing his arms. "...No."

You shrugged, before sighing. "It's not that I don't trust you. I have my scientific conclusions. You have yours. Every time I see something I can't explain I try to explain it with what I do know. Tonight was… insane, and you were right. But honestly? It just reinforced my wanting to go the scientific route every time we have a case."

He frowned. "Why? You saw Walker."

"Exactly." You crossed your arms. "If I went into every single case, expecting to see that or something even worse? God. I… I don't know how you do it, John."

He smiled, but still didn't meet your eyes. "I didn't mean what I said last night either. Y'know… that. Or at least, I didn't realize I didn't mean it until today. I… I care about you, Johnny. I really do. You're smart, and you're really funny, and you give me perspectives I wouldn't consider otherwise."

He looked at you, and you put a hand on his upper arm. "I'm glad I have a friend like you to work with," You admitted, "And I'm glad you're okay."

His smile grew, and he let out a chuckle. "There's no one else in the bureau I would rather be murdered by Hillary Clinton with," He said, with the most endearing tone possible. You burst into laughter, Johnny joining you. He stepped closer, pulling you into a hug as you continued to laugh. Your eyes shut, and despite Johnny's cold, damp clothes pressing against your cold, damp clothes, it still warmed your chest. The two of you stood together for a while, enjoying each other's embrace. His chin rested on your head, and you sighed happily. Johnny gave good hugs.

"Uhh, Agent Suh?"

Johnny and you broke away immediately. Johnny cleared his throat."Uhh, yes, Donghyuck?"Amy and Donghyuck exchanged a glance from the office doorway. "Uh, my mom said she'll be here soon. A-and I saw some police lights across the street, so…"

"Oh." Johnny straightened his tie. "Thank you."

A few seconds later, the sound of sirens came into proximity. You took a look at these two kids, and despite the stress they'd caused you, you felt an odd fondness in your heart. 

“Come on, you two," Johnny murmured, "Time to go."

X-FILE 229-B: THE SAN CEFERINO SHIFTER

FBI HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C—07:08 hours, Wednesday, July 6th, 1994

On this particular summer morning, you were enjoying the air conditioner for as long as you could wait. You'd be flying to San Ceferino, California, twenty minutes outside of San Francisco. 

The assignment was at a gated community where three women had been found dead within the span of three weeks. You and Johnny would be sent in to investigate due to a strange, unidentifiable residue being found on the bodies. A local detective had contacted the bureau for help.

The kicker? For some reason, due to some sensitivities of having their community "invaded" the head of the community had requested you be placed undercover.

So what was the bureau's idea? "Moving" you and Johnny into the community, posing as a newlywed couple. 

Yikes.

This seemed like a bad idea to you, but you didn't say anything. Because if you spoke up to your superiors, they'd ask why, and you'd be forced to explain. 

"I got the flight tickets and our fake profiles!" Johnny entered your shared office, causing you to look up from the case file.

"Oh, nice. Who are we?"

He curled his lip, making a face. "Whoever makes up these names should be demoted, I swear to god. My name is Fox. Fox Kang. Who the hell names their kid Fox—"

You stifled a laugh as you grabbed the file from him, flipping to yours. Dana Baker. A bit ordinary, but the more inconspicuous, the better, you figured. 

"God, I kind of don't want to go," You hummed, "It's hot enough as it is here in Washington. I don't wanna imagine the California heat."

"Well, suck it up," He said, but he didn't sound dismissive. "We're leaving in three hours. We still have to pick up our undercover wardrobe and get to the airport, y'know?"

Frowning at the profile, you nodded half-heartedly. It stated that your backstory was that of college sweethearts at Cornell in the 80s. He was class of 1984, you of 1986. You were moving to California two months after getting married, because "Fox" got a job offer just outside of San Francisco. 

"You're staring at that paper like you're Nancy Kerrigan and it just broke your knee," Johnny pointed out, "You okay?"

"Huh?" You looked at him, swallowing. "Oh… yeah. I'm fine. I'm just a bit… unsure about the whole marriage thing." 

Johnny shrugged, offering an amused smile. "Really, Y/N. We've been working together for two years and you still find me that unbearable?"

You laughed, standing and circling your desk to stand in front of him. "No, not at all. I'm just not the best when it comes to undercover work."

Johnny leaned against the desk, smiling sympathetically. "Well, I'm no Tom Hanks either. But if you think about it, we spend all our time together anyway. It's not that big of a stretch to say we might as well be."

"We definitely argue like one," You fired back. You both laughed, simply staring at each other in silence once it quieted down. Johnny's eyes studied you up and down, dark eyes warm. He was wearing his glasses today. 

You wondered if he was judging your outfit, because he did that sometimes with other people. Apparently, before he became interested in criminal psychology he'd wanted to become a fashion designer, or so he told you. Six months later after he'd told you that and you still weren't sure if he was joking or not.

"What are you looking at?" You asked. He shook his head. 

"...Nothing. Let's get going?"

The two of you picked up your faux suitcases—the bureau had a department full of fake clothes for agents going undercover needing to fit a certain persona. The two of you were nothing close to the white picket fence suburban life, so you were better off picking up some fake clothes.

You laughed when you saw the first outfit Johnny had been given. A pastel yellow LaCoste polo shirt, and grayish blue dress shorts. He glowered at you when he saw your face.

"Oh, yeah, very funny."

Your outfit wasn't much better. High rise, light wash jeans and another polo, this one bright red, a pair of dark red casual loafers to match. Johnny didn't laugh, but it was clear he was trying not to.

You decided to sleep on the plane. There wasn't a lot to look over, as you'd received the file the night before. By now, you knew the drill. 

You dreamt you were back in that hotel room in Oregon. Johnny was kneeling beneath you, but you still hadn't taken your robe off. He was saying something, but you couldn't understand what. His eyes were full of a warm emotion that you couldn't quite place.

Until he raised his arms to try and remove the robe. This time, when he spoke, you could hear him clearly. "This is what you wanted me to do, right?"

Your hands grabbed his. "What? Johnny, I… Well…" 

He stood, face impossibly close to yours. There was an odd smile on his face. "Don't worry," He murmured. "I want to, too."

Slowly, your hands let go of his and he began to pull off the robe. You didn’t protest. When you were bare, his hands slid to the skin of your waist, and he pulled you against him. His forehead pressed against yours.

"Johnny, are you sure?"

"Y/N," He said with a smile, "We are beginning our descent into LAX. Please put on your seatbelts and put up your trays."

You jumped awake in your seat, eyes impossibly wide. A laugh from beside you caused you to turn your head. Johnny was giggling into his palm. 

"What?" You asked, voice raspy from sleeping. 

"Oh my god, that was beautiful," He declared, "You were sleeping so peacefully and then, oh my god, that was hilarious."

"Ha, ha, ha." Your tone was devoid of any emotion. You rubbed your eyes, yawning slightly. "What time is it, here?"

"Three hour time difference. It's one PM." 

You nodded. And you still had a six hour car ride. Lovely. 

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE I-5, CALIFORNIA—15:22, Wednesday, July 6th, 1994

"Couldn't they have just flown us to San Francisco and have us drive from there?" Johnny complained after being cut off by yet another car. 

You sighed. "Budget cuts, I guess. We're not infiltrating the mafia, or taking down human trafficking rings."

"Yeah, we just fight the boogeyman and the little green men," He agreed. You laughed. 

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we hadn't gotten assigned together?" He sounded wistful, not taking his eyes off of the road. 

"I don't know." You picked at a loose thread on your jeans. "I would probably still be teaching at the academy. I think Brooks was considering placing you with Jung if I wasn't up for it."

"Jaehyun Jung?" He turned his head, making a face. "Really? He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," You insisted, "He just thinks like me, science before all, except… less nice about it."

"You sure?" He asked, fiddling with the radio, "Every time we're in a room together, I catch him staring at me like he's trying to shoot lasers into my head, the prick."

You shrugged. "He's nice to me."

"That's just 'cause he's trying to get into your pants."

You hummed. Jaehyun was pretty handsome. "Would that be such a bad thing?" 

He coughed, shrugging. "Well, it's your love life. You do you."

The air turned awkward. Johnny fiddled with the radio, but in this particular stretch of the interstate, all that came up was a Latin beats radio. Trumpets, and soft snare drums filled the car. You immediately recognized Selena's Bidi Bidi Bom Bom, a song about a girl realizing her heart went crazy whenever her lover passed by—while you didn’t listen to a lot of Latin music, you had a friend who did and always played this song when you met up.

Me tiemblan hasta las piernas

Y el corazon igual

Se emociona, ya no razona

No lo puedo controlar

"Oh, I hate this song," Johnny mumbled, reaching to turn the radio off.

"No, wait! I like it." You pushed his hand away. He groaned, but didn't turn it off. 

Y me canta así, me canta así…

Bidi bidi bom bom, bidi bidi bom bom

Bidi bidi bidi bidi bidi bom bom

Bidi bidi bidi bidi bidi bom bom

So, the two of you continued on listening to Selena, Johnny silently pouting. 

"So, what were you dreaming about on the plane?"

"Huh?" You cleared your throat.

"Yeah, you said my name in your sleep."

You shifted in your seat. "Oh… Um. I can't even remember."

He hummed, but didn't say anything. The drive continued on, both of you alternating between discussing mundane things and the case. All of them had been found in their homes, with no sign of a struggle—which suggested they knew their assailant. They'd all been strangled to death. No odd fingerprints could be recovered from the crime scenes. 

The first victim lived alone. The other two's husbands had solid alibis that were confirmed by the police. 

Which meant that it had to be someone in the neighborhood. There was reportedly a strong sense of community there, which was part of why the bureau had you going undercover. 

Around six, the two of you rolled into San Francisco, for a brief stop to talk to the detective who had contacted the bureau, a woman named Wendy Son. 

The two of you rolled into the precinct, and upon showing your badges, were prompted to the woman’s office. She had her light brown hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a black pantsuit similar to what you would wear, had you not been dressed like a soccer mom.

"Oh, thank you for coming," She said once you sat down. "I have some extra material here that I wasn't able to fax you."

She pulled out a folder, setting it in front of you on the desk. Johnny opened it to reveal more images you hadn't initially seen. 

"We sent the sample to Los Angeles because their laboratory has a higher capacity," She told you both, "They still weren't able to identify it, but apparently it apparently has an a mild tranquilizing enzyme. That might also be why there wasn't much of a struggle." 

Johnny hummed. "There aren't any cameras in San Ceferino, are there?" 

Detective Son shook her head. "Only around the perimeter and the gates." 

"Maybe there's something there," You said, "Could we have access to those tapes?"

She looked back down at the pictures. "I could certainly get it to you by tomorrow afternoon, though. Come in past two and I should have it by then."

Johnny nodded and smiled at her. "That would be great, thank you." 

She smiled, and you'd have to be blind to not notice the blush on her face. She handed him the keys to the house that the heads of the community had arranged to have semi-furnished ahead of your arrival. The rest would be arriving tomorrow in the morning, during which time you would go through the motions of being a newlywed couple moving into their “forever home”.

Johnny apparently was blind, though. He didn't say anything about it once you were both back in the car. You couldn't really blame her. 

Johnny was… well, he was Johnny. He was incredibly handsome, and funny. Any reasonable person interested in men would find him attractive. 

"Detective Son likes you," You told him as you were getting onto the road that led to San Ceferino.

"Does she?" He answered, smiling smugly. "She's pretty."

You don't know why that ignited something in you. "You think so?"

He nodded. "She seems nice. But I'm not interested."

The odd sensation in your chest simmered down. "No?"

"Not really. I'm not interested in something long distance. Plus, I work too much to have a relationship."

You nodded. "Yeah. I understand."

You arrived as the sun was setting, around seven. The two of you pulled into the gate to the place, where you introduced yourselves with your fake names to the guard. He checked his roster of approved people and let you both in. 

San Ceferino consisted of four different cul de sacs, each house practically identical. The house you would be staying in was towards the end of the second one. The house was a pale pastel yellow, orange rays of the sunset making it seem a deeper color. Your car rolled into “your” driveway, and with a sigh of relief, Johnny turned the car off. 

“I’m so tired,” He groaned, “Should we try and introduce ourselves today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” You said, letting your head fall back against the headrest, “These people are probably all having dinner or something, it’d be weird for us to do that now.”

He nodded, and got out of the car to open the trunk. You got out to grab your suitcase, and as you were getting out you realized that just maybe the universe disagreed with your decision to wait to meet others around the neighborhood.

A woman was crossing the street. She seemed a bit older than you both but was still dressed almost identically. You walked over to Johnny, who had his back turned, and tapped him on the shoulder. “Fox,” You mumbled, “We’ve got company.”

He turned, and upon spotting the woman flashed a comically fake smile. You offered the friendliest smile you could muster, but the way her eyes lit up when doing a once over of Johnny and then drooping in disappointment once she spotted you. If she thought she was subtle, she was dead wrong.

“Hi,” She said, impossibly enthusiastic, “I’m Anne Morrison. I’m the head of the Homeowners Association.”

You nodded in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you,” You said, holding out your hand, “I’m Dana. This is… my husband, Fox.”

“Fox,” She repeated, turning to look at Johnny, “That’s a lovely name. So, what brings you two to San Ceferino?”

“Oh, I got a job offer in San Francisco a few months ago,” Johnny answered. He was good, you decided. “We looked at some houses in the city, but it’s so busy there, you know? We were living in Maryland, so the transition between small town and big city… it’s not for us.”

She nodded, eyes wide. “I absolutely understand. My ex-husband wanted to move to the city now that our kids are in college. I don’t enjoy any of the hustle and bustle, really.” She chuckled, “So guess who got the house in the divorce!”

You and Johnny exchanged a glance, then laughed as if it was the funniest thing you’d ever heard. “Oh, my goodness,” You wheezed, clutching your hand in your chest, “I can imagine!”

“So, what do you two do?”

“I’m an architect,” Johnny said.

“I’m a publicist.” You scratched at your cheek when you felt a mosquito try to land. Her eyes zeroed in on your hand.

“You two are married, right?” She asked, “How come you’re not wearing your rings?”

You froze. Did the bureau even have fake jewelry? Why didn’t either of you think of that detail?

“Oh,” Johnny shrugged, coming to the rescue. “It’s so stressful having to take everything on and off at the airport, so we decided not to wear them today. Right, honey?”

He wrapped his hand around your waist, and you nodded. “I never wear jewelry when I’m on a plane. Too much hassle.”

She nodded, mouth slightly agape. “Oh, I see.”

Johny cleared his throat. “What do you work as?”

She grinned. “I’m a chemist.”

“I hated chemistry in high school,” Johnny groaned jokingly. Anne apparently thought this was hilarious, swatting his arm. He laughed again, but it was empty, awkward. You leaned your head against his shoulder in hopes that she'd get the message. 

“Well, Anne, it was lovely meeting you,” You declared, “But we’ve been awake since five in the morning travelling. We’re exhausted, we really should be getting inside.”

Anne sighed, eyes turning away from studying Johnny’s face to you. “Oh, go ahead. You two must be so tired.”

Johnny nodded, pursing his lips. “We’ll speak soon?”

She smiled. “There’s an HOA meeting on Friday night at another member's house. You should come and see what we’re all about, consider joining.”

"Swing by tomorrow!" You grinned, "You can tell us the details then."

"Of course, of course. Well, I'll leave you two to it. It was nice meeting you, Dana." She raked her eyes over Johnny one more time, "...Fox."

When she was out of earshot, Johnny pulled the suitcases out of the trunk and scrunched up his nose. "That was... awkward."

Your hand pulled up the extendable handle of the suitcase, looking back at her to see her close the door to her house, which was at the very end of the cul de sac. 

You looked back at him. "So, a chemist. And she's involved with the community, everyone probably knows who she is."

He shrugged before closing the trunk. "Let's keep an eye on her. She gives me the creeps."

The two of you made sure the car was locked before making your way towards the front door. He fiddled with the keys

"She might even have a motive," He said, as you stepped inside. "Ah, c'mon, aren't you gonna let me carry you over the threshold?"

"Not the time," You said, picking up your suitcase to carry it to the bedroom. "We were talking about a motive. Evidently, she likes looking at… married men. If it's her, she might be doing it out of jealousy."

"Exactly," He agreed, following you up the stairs. "Maybe there's something else at play—jealousy or something. how old were the other victims?" 

"Between 25 and 35. She didn't say how old she was, did she?" You rolled into the bedroom, sitting on the bed and immediately flopping down onto it. Johnny rolled past your room, looking for the separate bed the bureau had said would be there as well.

"Finally," You sighed with a smile. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you stifled a yawn. For a second, you considered falling asleep just like this, uncomfortable jeans be damned. 

"Y/N?" 

You cracked your eyes open, frowning at Johnny who was standing in the doorway. "What?" 

"There's only one bed."

You almost stopped breathing for a moment. "Huh?" 

He shuffled on his feet. "There's only one bed," He said, speaking slower.

"What do you mean there's only one bed?" You sat up.

Johnny sighed. "I mean there's only one bed." 

"But the bureau said—"

"Well, the bureau lied," He interrupted, "Because there's no other bed."

You  crossed your arms. "I could take the couch."

"That's supposed to get here tomorrow." 

"Oh," You frowned. What were you going to do? 

"I mean, I could sleep on the floor," You said, "So that way we don't have to sleep, you know…"

"Together?" He offered.

"In the same bed," You corrected, turning your face. It felt hot all of a sudden. 

"No, I couldn't do that to you." He set his suitcase next to yours, then sat next to you. "The bed seems big enough. I'm sure we'll be fine."

You were too tired to argue further. "Sure…" You didn't sound too convinced. 

"Great," He sighed, "I just gotta tell you. I snore a bit."

KANG-BAKER RESIDENCE, SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—08:43 hours, Thursday, July 7th, 1994

That night, surprisingly, you slept like a baby. You initially thought you'd overthink it all with Johnny lying right next to you but… it was comforting, knowing he was there. You hadn't slept next to anyone since you were 26.

Life as an FBI agent was demanding. Because of this, you'd given up on the idea of having a meaningful relationship ages ago. And due to the nature of your work, it was easy to throw yourself into it to drown out the desire to have someone to come home to. The fact that whenever you did get free time, if you spent too much of it alone… 

But now, lying awake in the morning, seeing Johnny's sleeping face curled up into his pillow… You remembered. 

He looked peaceful. Even at 33, like this he barely looked a day past 27. You could make out the details on his face, old acne scars and the occasional mole. The smile lines along his cheeks and the corners of his eyes… maybe in another lifetime, another universe, you could have gotten used to—

No. You shot up, heading towards the en suite to go to the bathroom. You were still sleepy, that was all. The time difference between Washington and California was having second effects. 

You pulled down your pants, blinking sleepily, and promptly had a heart attack when you sat down. Your knees barely missed your nose, your stomach dropped, and a shriek tumbled out of your lips before you could even register what was happening. 

Standing, now wide awake, you had half a mind to pull up your pants as Johnny tumbled into the bathroom, eyes wide in alarm.

"What happened?" He asked, voice raspy from disuse. You didn’t answer, but instead stared at the offending lifted toilet seat until he got the message. 

"Oh…" His face turned awkward, lips tilting from side to side. "I got up a few hours ago. I must have forgotten to put it back down, sorry." 

You didn't answer, yawning instead. He shrugged. "I've never… lived with another woman before, so…"

"Never?"

His eyes looked down. "...Never."

"Not even with that ex-girlfriend from Oxford you told me about?"

"Mary? No."

You held back an amused grin. "Johnny, when was the last time you even went on a date?" 

He pursed his lips. "I… am starving. Do you want me to go to the supermarket to pick something up for breakfast?"

You blinked, putting your hands on your hips. 

"...Breakfast sounds great."

Johnny promptly changed and left while you got into the shower. Once you were out, you brushed your teeth, did your general morning routine and waited for the car to roll back into the driveway, doing a quick background check on Anne in the meantime. 

No criminal record whatsoever, but that didn't automatically discard her from your list. Mostly because she was the only one on it, so far. 

Johnny rolled back into the driveway just before 9:20. You helped him take the bags into the kitchen, when he said, "Think fast!" and tossed you a small box.

"What's this?" You asked, opening the box. You sputtered at the sight: two simple gold bands. He looked at you like you were a moron.

"Wedding rings," He said, plucking one of the rings out from the box, "Hopefully so Anne lays off."

"You didn't have to go out and buy actual—"

"It's fake gold." He waved his hand dismissively, sitting down at the island and slathering an ungodly amount of cream cheese across a bagel. 

You settled on some coffee after hesitating to put on the ring. As you were finishing up, a knock at the door caught your attention. You looked at him, and he shrugged. "Moving van won't be here till 10:30."

So, you sighed, but still headed to the door. Johnny followed behind, second bagel in hand. When you swung the door open, you were met with Anne and a man you hadn't met yet. A wide Cheshire grin was plastered onto her face.

"Dana, hi!" She greeted. Her eyes landed on Johnny. "Good morning, Fox."

"Morning, Anne," You said with a nod, catching her attention again. You turned your eyes onto the man and held out your hand. "Hi, I'm Dana."

He shook your hand with a friendly smile. "My name's Scott Hernandez. I'm on the HOA board."

Johnny walked up to the door, putting a hand on your shoulder. "I'm Fox," He said, face speckled with crumbs and mouth full of food. You wanted to crawl into a hole.

"Hey, man," Scott said, eyeing Johnny, "Uh… Welcome to the neighborhood!"

"So," Anne asked, eyes raking over Johnny's chest, "How was the first night?"

Johnny swallowed his bagel before speaking. "It was lovely. We just snuggled up together and slept like little baby cats." He turned to you, eyes warm. "Isn't that right, honey bunch?"

Your neck snapped to look at him, holding back a look of disgust. "That's right…" You racked your brain for something sweet to call him and a moment later came up with, "...Poopy head."

Poopy head? Nice one, L/N.

Johnny’s smile faltered for a second, but neither Scott nor Anne seemed to notice. You flashed them both a bright grin. "So! Would you like to come in?"

Scott and Anne nodded. "That'd be great, thanks," He said. You led them into the dining room, where Johnny managed an awkward laugh. "Sorry it's such a mess, we just got up about an hour ago and I immediately went to the supermarket."

"Oh, don't worry, Fox," Scott hummed, sitting at the island, "Moving is so stressful. Especially with…"

Anne flashed him a dirty look. You raised an eyebrow at the interaction. "With what?" You asked, tilting your head as you feigned innocence. Anne sighed, shaking her head.

"Three women have been… murdered over the past few weeks." Scott looked down. "Police haven't been able to catch who's responsible."

"That's horrible," Johnny murmured, standing next to you. "Did you know them?"

"We know everyone because of our HOA responsibilities," Scott answered, "I wasn't that close to any of them, but they were all very nice women. It's awful, what happened to them. You knew Yolanda, didn't you, Anne?"

She nodded, eyes glassy. "Her son and mine used to play together. She was such a nice woman. Lovely family, too. It just breaks my heart." 

"I'm sorry for your loss," You told her. She offered a sad smile.

"But what, is it someone from the community or what?"

Anne shrugged, eyes full of concern. "The police don't really know, but it would make sense if they were from the community—"

"It couldn't possibly be someone living here," Scott huffed, "Everyone knows everyone, why would someone want to—"

"Scott is just in denial," Anne said, waving her hand. "Did you two really not know?"

"Not at all," Johnny replied, eyes wide with fake worry, "These past few weeks have been so hectic we barely had time to sit down. Right, honey?"

You groaned, partially putting up an act and partially in disgust at the name. "It's been a nightmare!" 

You made up some problems, like a crappy travel agency, yard sales, things going missing, stuff like that. Johnny occasionally chimed in, embellishing your stories. Occasionally, Anne or Scott would ask a question, and Johnny would answer with something he pulled out of his ass. 

"So that's why Fox isn't allowed coffee, anymore," You said a few minutes later, rolling your eyes. Scott was cackling, Anne giggling into her palm. Johnny glared at you, but there was no malice behind it. 

"But anyway, I'm guessing you two didn't come here to hear about how anxious I get with caffeine." Johnny turned to the pair. "What brings you to the... Kang-Baker residence?"

"Oh, we came to talk to you about joining the Homeowner's Association," Anne explained, "Not everyone in the neighborhood is a part of it, but it's very convenient to join." 

They laid down the basics, and as they talked, you realized just how much you appreciated living in an apartment rather than a house. Yes, it was a bit small at times, definitely not as idyllic, but 300 dollars as an initiation fee, and monthly payments of 150 dollars? You had half a mind to call the bureau and tell them that the real crime was the extortion from the Homeowner's Association. 

You didn't really see any advantages—probably because you didn't even own this house and wouldn't have to worry about selling it later. It just sounded like a nightmare. What did they mean you could only paint your doors pastel colors if you joined?

When they finally left, you looked at Johnny. "Maybe I'm not cut out for the American dream after all. That HOA stuff sounds even worse than the time we got attacked by the flesh eating virus."

He held back a laugh. "That bad, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "No, this is much more irritating. The moving van will be here any second, come on, let's go."

127TH PRECINCT, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA—14:29 hours, Thursday, July 7th, 1994

After unloading the furniture boxes (empty boxes with nothing really in them), you and Johnny settled on lunch—some crappy junk food—and drove all the way to the police station where Detective Son worked. 

"What did you think about that Scott guy?" You asked Johnny, who shrugged. 

"Seemed nice enough. We'd have to look into him too, since he's also involved in the community."

You nodded. "I'll run a background check once we get h—back to the house."

He glanced at you, but said nothing. "...What are you doing once this is over?"

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What, once we get back to DC?"

He nodded. "Well, yeah."

You stared ahead at the car in front of you. "Oh, well… I'm not sure. Probably finish writing that stupid report for Brooks and then curl up on my couch, watch some movies, drink some wine. I don't know."

He snickered. "What, and watch Pretty Woman for the 700th time?"

Smacking him in the shoulder lightly, you huffed. "Which is no better than watching Full Metal Jacket 700 times, and you know it, Johnny Suh."

He shrugged. "Well, if sex on a piano is what does it for you then who am I to judge?"

"Shut up." You rolled down the window, the heat too much to handle. 

When you finally got to see Detective Son again, she handed you the cassette and made her way towards the door. When she spoke, she looked only at you. "I'm actually headed out to check out another call we got just now," She explained, "But feel free to use the VCR in my office to look it all over."

She left, not even looking Johnny in the eye. You turned to Johnny, who was wide-eyed. 

"And you said she likes me."

In her office, you went over several days' worth of sped up hours of footage of six different camera angles. By the third hour of watching sped up, grainy footage, Johnny huffed. "I don't think we'll get anything," He said, "Especially considering the killer didn't even need to break their way in—"

"Hold on, hold on." You shook your head, eyes zeroing in on a dark shape in one of the cameras. You walked up to the VCR machine and hit the rewind button.

"Watch camera six."

He narrowed his eyes, fixing his glasses as he watched the dark shape run out from the treeline and up the wall, then out of the camera's view—presumably inside the community. You rewinded one last time, pausing just as it leaped onto the wall.

"There."

"That's too big to be a cat," He murmured, standing to get a closer look at the grainy black and white still image, "Right?"

"Could be a big cat—bobcat or a lynx, maybe, but…"

"It's movements are too… jerky for it to be a cat."

You hesitated, before nodding. 

"Could this be the thing we're looking for?" Johnny asked, and you crossed your arms, giving the dark blob a skeptical look.

"Looks like we have some digging to do."

One more hour of poring over the footage, plus another hour of looking at the archives of the police department turned up nothing on big cats in the area. There'd been no calls to 911 to report big cats in the neighborhood, and looking over the tape again showed nothing else, not even the thing leaving.

Which made Johnny’s theory that it was still there weigh even more.

By 7:30PM or so, Detective Son had returned. "I brought coffee," She said, entering the small space, "Find anything?"

You shrugged. Johnny looked at her. "We saw a weird blob go inside. It never came out and we couldn't figure out what it was."

She frowned. "There haven't been any reports of wild animals there in years. Not since that huge military base opened up."

Johnny's eyebrows knit together. "Army base?"

She nodded. "Fort Talbot. It's about fifteen minutes west of San Ceferino. There aren't a lot of roads that lead to it, they're pretty private."

You locked eyes with Johnny, who was probably thinking the same thing as you. Military base? That was new.

 “I don’t suppose you could take us to see it?”

She shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, we could try, but there’s a fence around the perimeter about a mile or two away from the actual base. They’re not gonna let you in.”

“No, we’re not military,” You sighed. “But thank you for telling us about that.”

SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—20:44 hours, Thursday, February 12th, 1993

When the car rolled into the driveway, the two of you had found that Anne was at your front door. You shot each other a quizzical look when she turned at the sight of your headlights. “What’s the cougar doing here?” He sighed, and you elbowed him.

“Hush. Be nice.”

She reached the car once you’d both stepped out. “Oh, I was wondering where you two were! I wanted to invite you over to have dinner. The spinach quiche I made was a bit too big for just me!”

At the mention of the meal, your stomach panged in hunger. All you’d had since you left the house was that coffee Wendy had given you. Plus…

Johnny seemed to read your mind. “We’re starving. Quiche sounds great, thanks so much, Anne.”

She beamed at his praise. “Oh, come on! Wouldn’t want it to get cold.”

Anne took the both of you into her house, leading you to the dinner table where she’d already set up spots for the both of you. “It’s not too much, is it? I’m sorry if I’m being overbearing. I really do want you to ease into the neighborhood, and plus, living in this big old empty house gets… lonely.”

As you sat down, you frowned in sympathy. You watched as she began to slice the quiche for you both. “Don’t worry, Anne. I understand where you’re coming from. It’s so lonely in my—or, it was so lonely in my apartment before Fox and I met. Sure, you can distract yourself during the day with all of the stuff you have to do, but at the end of the day you come home to… nothing.”

She handed Johnny a plate, and he took it. “There you go, Fox.”

He smiled, handing the plate to you. “Thank you.”

Her eyes followed his hand, and blinked when she spotted the ring on his hand. “Oh, I see you have your rings now.”

Johnny’s smile grew into a grin, as he held out his hand, flashing the band around his ring finger. You did the same. “No more pesky metal detectors,” He declared, “So why not?”

Anne nodded, eyes lowered. She handed him another plate, then served herself. And then, finally, you all started eating. It occurred to you as you took your first bite that if she was she easily could have laced the food with whatever was in those women’s systems when they died. But that would be too different from the killer’s modus operandi. They only went for women and they killed them in their home. Autopsies didn’t find anything recent in their stomachs at the time of death, so you concluded to take a bite. 

Besides, it smelled good. If you were going to die, then it would be nice to die by the hands of some good quiche.

“So,” You began, “You said your kids were off at college?” 

She nodded, digging around her food with a fork. “My oldest is in grad school at USC. He’s currently in South America doing research on bats, or something, I really can’t remember. My second is off backpacking for the summer, she’s graduating from UCLA next year, and my youngest left for college two years ago. He managed to get a full scholarship to Duke, can you believe it?”

You smiled, nodding. “Wow, that’s impressive.” 

She sounded proud, but there was a sadness behind her gaze. “It’s hard, it really is. Especially trying not to worry. They rarely call and only come home during the holidays. Drives me up the wall not knowing what my kids are up to!”

Johnny laughed. “My mom was the same when I went to college. My freshman year she called me once every day. My roommates always made fun of me for it.”

She chuckled. “Oh, that’s how all moms are,” She turned to you, “I imagine it’ll be the same when you two have kids.”

You almost choked on the food in your mouth at her words. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Johnny go white. Somehow, you managed to hold it back, hitting your chest lightly as the food made its way down. “Oh, well… it’s a bit early for that, I think.”

“We only got married six months ago…” Johnny murmured awkwardly. 

“Oh, I totally get it,” She said, “But, y´know, accidents happen. Especially when you’re still in the honeymoon phase after the wedding. I had my first less than a year after we were married, we weren’t even trying!”

You chewed on your lip. “Well, if something happens…” You met eyes with Johnny, whose gaze was unreadable, “Something happens.”

Not looking away, Johnny licked his lips subtly, before picking up a napkin. Anne didn’t notice, surprisingly, and seemed satisfied with your answer.

You ate a little bit more, when Anne asked, “So, tell me, how did you two meet?”

Remembering the file, Johnny perked up. “We met at a party in college. I was in my junior year, I think? Right, honey?”

You shook your head. “Your senior year,” You corrected, “Because I was in my sophomore year. I remember it like it was yesterday. He came up to me and was wearing this horrible button up shirt—”

“You ended up stealing it from me!” He joked, and you held up your index finger.

 “I use it to sleep. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that in public. Much less to attract a mate.”

Anne cackled, and the two of you laughed too. Again, you managed to make up a story: he was drunk and accidentally spilled some punch on your pants. He’d tried to help you by washing it in the bathroom but only made it worse.

“When I got back to my dorm, it was around three in the morning, my leg was sticky and I was miserable, but we ran into each other a few days later and he was very apologetic about the whole thing.”

“I was mortified,” He said, “I mean, here’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life and I managed to screw it up by ruining her pants. I was so sure I’d screwed up.”

Anne raised her eyebrows. “So, you knew from the start that you liked her?”

Johnny’s eyes landed on you again, turning wistful. He leaned over and grabbed your free hand. “The moment I first laid my eyes on her, I knew. She was the one.”

You tried to smile, but suddenly your chest felt like it was caving in on yourself. You let your hand rest in his for a moment, before pulling away. “Oh, Fox. Don’t get all sentimental on me now.”

Clearing your throat, you didn’t miss the way Johnny’s eyes fell slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, where’s your bathroom?”

She pointed up. “Upstairs to the right.”

This was your chance to get some dirt on her, and put some space between you and Johnny. As you walked away, you touched a hand to your cheek and it came away burning. 

“Get it together,” You muttered to yourself.

The quick search yielded nothing. She had nothing in her drawers, all of the papers on her desk were related to her work at a hair care company. You always could have missed something though. You couldn’t take more than a few minutes, you certainly couldn’t risk her coming up to check on you and finding you sifting through her work documents.

Before you came down, you did your best to leave everything as you found it before heading back downstairs. 

When you sat back down at the table, things were a bit more tense. You sensed it immediately. “Everything alright?”

“...Yeah,” Johnny mumbled. 

“Fox and I were just talking about how… difficult marriage can be.”

You nodded, wondering if that was all that had happened. “Oh, it’s no walk in the park, that’s for sure.”

The rest of the dinner was not as lively. There were more awkward silences, more lulls in the conversation, less laughs. When you finally left, his elbow intertwined in yours, you looked at him. “What happened while I was gone?”

He shook his head as you both crossed the street. “I don’t like her,” He told you in a hushed voice, “She started talking about how it won’t be like this forever and it’s only fun now because we just got married or whatever.”

“What, was she trying to open something up between you and her?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t exactly been subtle, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she was.”

The two of you marched up into your house, and while Johnny was showering you did a background check on Scott Hernandez. Nothing also. A perfectly ordinary citizen, no criminal record at all. 

Then, it was your turn to shower. As you did, you couldn’t help but think back to Anne’s words. The whole situation, feigning domesticity was proving to be bad for you: you couldn’t help but imagine a small child with his wide eyes and your nose, his lanky limbs and your hands. 

The amount of time you put into your work made you fully aware that it would make having children difficult. Truth be told, you hadn’t really put much thought into settling down. The right person had never been there.

But what if he had? What if he’d been by your side for the past three years?

He had to be putting on an act when he’d said it.

The moment I first laid my eyes on her, I knew. She was the one.

Thinking back to the moment you’d first met him, and he’d come across as slightly patronizing and dismissive of your conclusions. But thinking about when he’d first turned to look at you, that particular morning in 1992…

You turned off the shower. Alone time wasn’t doing you any good, either.

When you emerged from the shower, you sighed as your eyes landed on the toilet seat, which was lifted. You set it back down with a huff before getting dressed.

Once you stepped out of the bathroom in your pajamas, toweling your hair, your eyes fell to the pile of dirty clothes on the bed. “Please don’t put your sweaty clothes, where I have to sleep,” You told him, tossing the clothes into his face. He let out a soft groan, picking them up. 

“Oh, come on,” He grumbled, “They don’t even smell that bad.”

After he set them off somewhere (you didn’t see where as you were shutting your laptop off), he sat back down on the bed, leaving a space open for you. "So, what if we looked into Scott tomorrow?"

“That sounds like a good idea. Tomorrow night there’s that HOA thing we need to go to. We might be able to pick up some more stuff there.”

He nodded, and as you stood in front of the bed he waggled his eyebrows and patted the spot next to you. “Come on, Dana,” He murmured sarcastically, “We’re married now.”

You didn’t smile. He took that as a sign to continue. 

“Plus, if something happens, something happens.”

You grabbed a pillow and flung it into his face. “You’re the worst,” You grumbled. He laughed, but it was muffled from the pillow.

Slowly but surely, you realized with the sound of his laughter, this feeling was soon going to become something you couldn’t ignore.

HERNANDEZ RESIDENCE, SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—09:02 hours, Friday, July 13th, 1994

When the door opened, Scott Hernandez had a welcoming smile on his face. “Dana,” He said, “Good morning. Did you need anything?”

“Oh, I just wanted to ask if there was an official guidebook or anything for the HOA? Fox and I are still considering joining, but we’d need to go over everything.” You scratched at the cardigan you were wearing. Why did the bureau have to give you something so thick and scratchy when they knew you were coming to California in the middle of July?

“Come in! I’m sure I have a rulebook. Plus, if you have any other questions you could always just come over.”

He led you up the stairs. “I keep all of my stuff in the office,” He explained, “That way my kids don’t mess it all up.”

You offered a soft laugh. “Oh, you have kids?”

“Yep.” His voice was warm. “Two kids, a nine year old and a six year old. They’re not here right now, though. My wife took them up to Washington to see their grandparents.”

“Ah, that’s sweet.” As he led you into the office, your eyes studied the room. A picture frame behind him of a professional family portrait, a houseplant in the corner a big clunky computer on top of the desk, and a cabinet pushed to the side of the room.

Your eyes fell onto the things placed on top of the cabinet, a stapler and some other office supplies. But when your eyes caught a different type of metal that wasn’t the standard gray color, you focused on it. A small medallion, decorated with a ribbon. When you recognized the logo, your eyes widened slightly.

“You’re military?” 

His eyes turned to you, eyebrows raised. Then he looked to the side. “Oh… no. My brother was. He passed away in the Gulf War.”

You looked down, but something about his tone didn’t sound quite authentic. “I’m sorry for your loss,” You answered anyway. 

The silence hung overhead for a few moments, before he pulled out a small booklet. “Here’s a copy of the rulebook.” He held it up, waving it back and forth, “This has pretty much everything.”

“Oh, really?” You straightened your posture, feigning a smile. When he handed it to you, your smile grew bigger as you looked down at the small book. “I’ll be sure to show Fox when he gets home. I really appreciate it, Scott.”

He waved his hand. “Don’t mention it. If you need anything else, just come on over. I work from home, so I’m here pretty much all day.”

Scott studied your face, and a second later you looked away. “So, I should get going,” You murmured. “I’ll see you tonight? I don’t think nor you nor Anne said where it would be.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Here, actually! Tonight, at 7.” 

“Great,” You answered, “I’ll see you tonight.”

When you got back to the house, you walked to the office, where Johnny was waiting. “Hernandez has military links.”

His head shot up. “He does?” 

“There was a military medallion on his cabinet in his office. He looked like he was gonna piss himself when I asked about it.”

“And what did he say?”

“Said his brother was a Gulf War veteran. I didn’t believe him for a second.”

“So could he be our guy?”

You took a deep breath. “Honestly? I don’t know. I could try to look through his office tonight at the HOA thing.”

“You?” He shook his head vehemently. “You fit his profile. All of his victims were around your age. You’re not going somewhere you could be alone with him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then what?” 

He looked at you as if you were dumb. “I’ll go.”

“But—”

“No.” His gaze turned stern, before walking all the way up to you. He put his hands up on your shoulders. “Y/N, he could kill you.”

“Has that ever stopped me before?” You asked, tilting your head. “Johnny, it’s in the job description to deal with people who could kill me. What’s so different now?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide, urgent, and his face was inches away. You shook your head, trying to prompt him to speak. “What?” 

Johnny pursed his lips, studying your face. And then, finally he shook his head. “Nothing.” 

He stepped away, and left the office, leaving you speechless. You leaned against the desk thinking about what just happened.

For the rest of the day, he was relatively distant. During lunch—you went out to buy some sandwiches—and he barely said thank you, before you ate in tense silence. You could only wait until 7 o’clock rolled around. In the meantime, you placed a call to Detective Son, telling her to look into Scott Hernandez and his family. You typed up the rest of your preliminary report, and then all you could do was wait. 

When five thirty rolled around, you started to get ready. You took only about five minutes, before stepping out, fully dressed. When you stepped out of the bathroom, Johnny had his back turned to you. It was almost as if he hadn’t noticed you were right behind him, because he was humming softly to himself, tapping his foot to a non audible melody. You could hear him humming it though, and after a few seconds of listening. you were able to recognize the song.

He froze when he heard your giggling. “What?” He asked, turning his head.

“Is… is that Bidi Bidi Bom Bom?” You asked, leaning against the wall. He straightened his posture before shuffling on his feet. 

“...No.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Sure, it isn’t.”

He raised his eyebrow, but it wasn’t as serious as he had been before. And when you spoke again, his mouth grew into a crooked smile. 

“You like Selena,” You sing-songed. 

“Alright, enough. We’ve got a job to do.” He was biting back a laugh. You knew him too much to believe the opposite. 

When the two of you finally walked the few houses towards Scott’s house, he held out his arm for you to hold onto. Taking a deep breath, your hand hesitated before it grabbed onto him. Approaching the house, you could tell that it was alive with a lot of people on the inside. You wouldn’t necessarily say it was overflowing, but you could tell it was definitely close to filling up. 

“Let’s go?” He asked, and you nodded. He led you to the front door, where he rang the doorbell before the two of you waited. 

A minute or so later, Scott opened the door with a grin. 

“Hey, you two! You’re just in time.”

You put on your best smiles. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Johnny sighed. You didn’t miss the tense undertone in his words.

The two of you made your way into the room. Across the room you heard someone call for you both. You held back a groan. You really didn’t need this right now. 

“Hey, over here!” Anne called, beckoning you over. Johnny heaved the sigh of a man ready to end it all, and then you both made your way to her and her group. All of them seemed to be the same age as her. 

“Ladies, these are our new neighbors I was telling you about.” She pointed at the both of you .”This is Dana Baker, and this is Fox… the architect.”

Oh boy. 

And the talking began. You and Johnny having to rehash the same details over and over again. It felt like having to navigate a minefield. You had to recall all of the lies you’d told Anne and Scott, this time in front of an audience of women very clearly ogling the man who they fully believed was your husband. 

You made idle chit-chat after that, but eventually, about twenty minutes had passed until they sat everyone down. The living room was full of grown ups, including a few young children. The thought of everyone being in such close proximity to someone, something that could hurt them all the way it had hurt those other women.

It was easy to tune them all out. It was then that you realized that suburban life would never really be for you. This was all so dull and monotone. You were sure that if you had decided to actually go into the medical field and settled down… you would probably lose your mind. 

They went over some things you didn’t pay attention to: lawns and whatnot. It was so tiring you had to stifle a yawn on more than one occasion. Anne was going on about some infraction that didn’t even sound that bad to you, when it occurred to you to slip away, Johnny be damned. 

You patted Scott on the shoulder as Anne went on. “Where’s the bathroom?”

He nodded back once, “Upstairs. Green door. We’re almost done, though, are you sure you can’t wait a little longer?”

“I had the genius idea to drink two whole bottles of water before we left,” You murmured so as to not make too much of a scene, “I really don’t think I can.”

He sighed, before nodding. “Go ahead.”

Gotcha. You slipped up, sparing Johnny a glance. He was glaring at you. If looks could kill, you didn’t even want to know where you’d end up going. You made your way up the stairs, remembering the way to the office from this morning. You slipped into the office, making your way to the cabinet. The medallion was gone, which made you wonder why he had done so. 

As you shuffled through the drawers of the cabinet and came up with nothing, you had to remind yourself to keep count of how long you’d been up here. You moved on to the desk, shuffling through the papers on the desk and then the ones on the drawer. In the first drawer, you found an ID: Alma Hernandez, Lazarus Programming.

In the second drawer, nothing. 

In the third and bottom drawer, you found something: a pair of dogtags. Neither of them said Hernandez. Instead, they read Simon Walsh. 

Simon Walsh? That was new. You stashed them back into the drawer, suddenly remembering how long you’d been up here. Probably a bit over five minutes. As you made your way back down to the living room, you ran into Johnny. 

“Hey,” He said, “I was just coming to look for you.”

He looked disappointed, bordering on anger. In the small space, you could feel his proximity. You couldn’t help but shake your head.

“I had to take the chance. I wasn’t sure if there would be a chance after this.”

He sighed. “I can’t believe you. Come on, they’re serving pizza.”

You laughed, letting him grab your hand as he led you back into the living room, where you two ate a few slices of pizza. Enough to feel satisfied, but not enough to feel too full. In theory, if you had to make a detainment or worse, have a confrontation then it’d be a bad idea to have stomach cramps. 

You two kept to yourselves, occasionally speaking to other couples who introduced themselves to you. Once you’d finished gorging yourselves on the food, he kept his hand around your waist the entire time. It was a gentle touch, but comforting. You couldn’t help but feel tense.

“After we get home, I’ll tell you all the details I saw.” You looked up to see his face, watching you tentatively. 

“Alright,” He murmured, leaning closer to your face, “But I wanna talk about something together first.”

Raising an eyebrow, you leaned away from him. “What, are you okay?”

Johnny nodded, smile reassuringly. “Yeah. I just realized something earlier today.” 

KANG-BAKER RESIDENCE, SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—21:17 hours, Friday, July 13th, 1994

When the two of you left, Anne had bid you both goodbye. She’d said Scott had gone to bed with a headache, which made you feel a bit uneasy. The entire way home, Johnny kept himself relatively close. The entire way home, he was silent. It wasn’t until the both of you were inside of the house that he leaned against the front door. As he led you to the couch )which had finally arrived), you tried to remember all of the details you’d seen as you looked through Scott’s office.

When he sat you down, you placed both hands in your lap. He scratched at his shoulder, before meeting your eyes.

“Simon Walsh.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widened at the same time his had. “What?” You asked, shaking your head. You were suddenly aware of everything going on. You were in an ongoing murder investigation. It was quite possibly linked to a very secretive military base. Three women had been murdered. A fourth would be soon if you didn’t hurry.

“Johnny, I don’t think…”

“No, please. Just a few minutes, okay? I’ve been dealing with this for years. I need to get this out of my system and then we can talk about this back in DC. Please, Y/N.”

Your gut felt heavy at the same time your heart felt incredibly light. It was by far one of the strangest sensations you’d ever felt. Letting out a shaky breath, you nodded. 

“Alright, John. Five minutes. Then we talk about what I found.”

He nodded with a small smile. Gently, Johnny grabbed your hands, rubbing the knuckles with his thumbs. He was silent for a while, tilting his head back and forth as he tried to figure out what to say. 

“What I said last night at Anne’s. I meant it. That first time I saw you, I… I knew. I knew we didn’t get along initially, but I just had this feeling in my chest. You were so smart, and eventually we realized how much we clicked…”

He looked up, leaning closer. You swallowed softly as his eyes met yours again. He managed a soft chuckle. “Y/N, I tried to hold it away. But it got stronger every single day. You understand me. Even though we push back against each other, you don’t think I’m crazy. You take them into consideration and don’t brush them off. I really appreciate that. I look at you and… I’m home.”

Looking to the side, you sighed. “Johnny, I really don’t think this is appropriate. Especially not right now—”

"Y/N, I know what your dream on the plane was about."

You inhaled sharply, alarmed gaze meeting his own. His eyes had turned soft, warm. You knew you had to push him away. The name Simon Walsh was on loop in your head, but you couldn’t find it in you to push him away.

“What?”

“I heard you moan my name,” He sighed, “Trust me, Y/N, I know what I heard.”

He leaned even closer, cupping your face. You could feel his breath puffing softly onto your skin. His eyes were knowing as his voice dropped to a whisper. 

“You want me too, don’t you?”

When his lips met yours, you couldn’t find it in you to pull away. He pulled you closer, and your arms found their way to wrap themselves around your neck. His lips were soft, but demanding. You could tell he’d been waiting for this a long, long time. 

You don’t know when he laid you down onto the couch, but honestly… you didn’t really mind. Johnny was warm, comfortable. And yes, July in California was hot, humid, but… up until Johnny put his hands on you, you’d never realized how cold you’d been, even before your arrival here.

He deepened the kiss, hands sliding down to your waist. They toyed with the hem of your blouse, humming against your lips. You gasped against him, hands sliding into his gelled hair.

Your eyes snapped open. Johnny never used this much gel in his hair.

Two things happened in the next two seconds. You pushed Johnny off. Johnny would never prioritize his feelings like this over a case. You hadn’t seen Scott as you left. All of this pretending, playing house had gotten to you. You were in real danger now.

The other thing that happened? Johnny burst through the door, wearing clothes he hadn’t been wearing when you first left. He was panting heavily. There was a bruise on his cheek and his wrists were red.

You backed away from Not Johnny, who turned to you, gaze now furious. A wave of nausea passed over you, breathing heavily. Whatever Not Johnny had in his system, he had passed onto you with his spit, and you could feel it settling into your system. You looked up at Johnny, before pulling out your gun. Taking a deep breath, you looked at your work partner, closest confidante, love of your life.

“I had a feeling,” You mumbled, realizing how the sinking feeling in your stomach was actually dread.

Stumbling, you heard Not Johnny let out a ghastly screech. You fired your gun at him before passing out. 

SAN FRANCISCO METROPOLITAN, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA—10:39 hours, Saturday, July 14th, 1994

The room smelled sterile. You knew this smell. You’d lived it for several years before in medical school rotations. This had to be a hospital, you realized. Slowly, you let your eyes open. You let out a soft groan at the discomfort of having been stuck in one position for so long.

“You awake?” A deep, familiar voice asked. Your vision was blurry, but you could still recognize it was Johnny. His eyes were rimmed red from exhaustion, but he looked relieved. 

“No. I died, actually.” Your voice was raspy. Johnny scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re impossible,” He mumbled, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“What even happened after I passed out?”

Johnny took a second to gather his thoughts before speaking. “You hit him in the face. It wasn’t pretty. He freaked out a bit, and then he took off. I couldn't catch him. Called Son, she came in with the precinct and they looked through Hernandez's house."

His gaze turned somber as you sat up with a soft huff. Your muscles were stiff.

"They found the real Scott Hernandez, his two kids and his wife, in their basement. Autopsies are being performed today, but it looks like they've been dead a few weeks."

Your eyes shut. Two kids, a man, and another woman. Seven victims total.

"And that thing is still out there," You mumbled, "If only I hadn't been so stupid—"

Johnny put his hand on yours. "Don't say that. Even if you hadn't gotten knocked out, he would still be way too much for just the two of us to handle. Y/N, you shot him in the face and it barely stopped him. He wasn't human anymore."

You shook your head, burying your head in your hands. "Still… I know you, Johnny. I should have seen the signs, but he was so—somehow he knew everything—"

"It's something to do with touch," He said with a nod, "He knocked me to the ground and locked me in a closet before he found you. I was a bit out of it, but I remember he touched my wrist for a few seconds and then he turned into me. My head still hurts, too. Maybe he can also copy some memories from the people he touches long enough."

When you didn't answer, he grabbed your face. He looked desperate. "Y/N, you're only human. I would have fallen for it too."

"I fell for it because he told me exactly what I wanted to hear," You whispered, feeling tears spring to your eyes, seemingly out of nowhere, "He played me like a fucking fiddle and I fell for it."

His thumb brushed away a tear. "Don't think about the what-ifs, Y/N. It's already happened, and now we need to focus on what's gonna happen next. We need to find a way into Fort Talbot. Somehow. Turn your report into the bureau and we can figure it out from there. There’s something going on there. Human experimentation on soldiers, or something."

"We're never gonna get clearance to search a military base, Johnny. It's impossible."

He shook his head. "Y/N, if you were able to convince Brooks to let me, Spooky Suh, FBI's most unwanted? keep running around hunting ghosts and aliens and Bigfoot all over the country, you can figure out a way to get access in there. I know you can."

You were shaking now. "We won't be safe if we do. You think the military won't retaliate? We'd be dead, Johnny," Your words were garbled and your voice wouldn't stop cracking, "There has to be another way."

He shook you gently, shaking his head. "Dammit, Y/N, I can't do this without you."

"They placed me with you for a reason, Johnny," You snapped, "To debunk your work, to reign you in and shut you down—"

"But you saved me," He insisted, "You did exactly the opposite. And as a result we kept working together, and you kept me honest. You… you've made me a whole person."

He rubbed his face with his hand, pushing a strand of dark hair out of his eye. "Y/N, as frustrating as it's been sometimes working with you, your stupud science and rationalism have saved me a thousand times over. I owe you everything. Y/N, you owe me nothing."

His forehead brushed yours, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can't do this without you," He murmured. And despite the fact that you knew that this was your Johnny, you shook your head. The deja vu was making your head spin. 

"Tell me something the real Johnny would know," You whispered, putting a hand on your chest.

He thought for a second, before sighing. "I had three moments when I realized I was in love with you. When you first walked into my office that morning, I had a feeling," He said, voice full of conviction, "It grew into something concrete when you told me my glasses were crooked. And the moment I knew—I mean, I already knew from that first moment but this was when it truly hit me—was when you told me you'd kept that stupid fucking nasal implant in your sports bra so that you wouldn't lose it."

He laughed warmly, obviously thinking back to the moment. "No one else has ever believed me the way you do. And I doubt anyone else ever will. You're my one in…" He looked to the side, trying to remember the number, "Five billion."

Your hand came up to caress his face. He seemed to melt against your touch. 

This time, when your lips met, everything felt right, despite the feeling that the world was crumbling around you. His hands squeezed your face gently, as if you were about to disappear. When your hands slid into his hair, it felt slightly sweaty still, but it wasn't tacky with gel. 

This was your Johnny. You knew it with your entire being.

Yes, Johnny was sarcastic, stubborn, eccentric and had low impulse control. But he was also highly intelligent, empathetic, hilarious and yes, you could now admit that he was the most beautiful human you'd ever seen in your 30 years on this planet. 

If it had to be him and you against the world, so be it. The truth was out there. You and Johnny would just have to be the ones chasing it.

taglist: @doderyscoffee​ @always-wishing-for-rain​

[kingdaddydaichi]

can i request consensual hate sex between bakugou and f!reader

Oooooh yassssss! This idea got better and better the more I thought about it, Nonny. Love it! I hope you enjoy this naughty little slice of grudge fuck pie. 💖

Riding The Fine Line 💥 Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT or I'll have my Big Scary BoomBoom Man blow your little ass up!

Word Count: 2k

"Oi! Who picked this shitty restaurant anyway?", Bakugou sneered as he walked towards the table.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled, "Oh look, Gorilla Man is here".

"Watch it, shitty girl. M'not in the mood for your shit tonight".

You'd made plans earlier in the week to meet Kiri and Mina for dinner. You knew Bakugou had been invited too, but after having suffered through it so many times over the past year or so of having some friends in common, you somehow managed to tolerate his presence. It helped that the drink you'd been sipping on made him somewhat less intolerable than usual.

It was like nails down a chalkboard every time Bakugou reared his big dumb head. His only redeeming quality was that he was quite easy on the eyes. Shame that such a hot guy is also such a huge asshole.

He's always given everyone a hard time, but unlike most people, you just wave a dismissive hand at him. And it makes him crazy. He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t get under your skin like he so easily does others. Oh, he annoys the piss out of you to be sure, but he doesn't hurt your feelings per se.

"Y'know, for such a massive ego yours sure is delicate, you meat head".

"Oh yeah? Well, for such a massive ass yours s-"

"God, Bakugou, do you ever just shut up?", you snipped.

Kiri and Mina both jumped in, laughing nervously and smoothing things over to lower the tension. He growled at you. You flipped him a subtle bird before looking away and trying to ignore him.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Kiri's birthday was approaching and several of his friends decided to throw him a surprise birthday party. You, Denki, Mina, and ugh, as luck would have it, Bakugou, were are all put in charge of decorating his house while some other friends took him out for dinner. Midway through, Mina whined while sorting through various sacks, "Oh no! We forgot the disposable rainbow shot glasses!" Mina had a way of putting a cute touch on everything she had her hands in. Denki offered to go with Mina to procure the missing miniature party cups, leaving you and Bakugou alone to hang streamers in Kiri's living room. Probably not the wisest of decisions, but consider the source. 👀

It didn't take long after they were gone for Bakugou to start in on you with his bullshit. Only this time no one was around to referee. You groaned. This was going to be a free for all. You'd already both cut eyes at each other a couple of times.

"You're not doing it right, dumbass!"

"That's a matter of opinion and you can shove yours up your ass, dumbass".

He flipped you off saying, "You can shove this up your ass!", then turned back to his task.

You were so done. Without thinking, you reared back and hurled the roll of streamers as hard as you could, nailing him right in the back of the head. Damn, it felt good.

He whipped around, a vein popping out of his forehead, clenching his teeth. You were quite proud of your aim until he made little explosions in his free hand and said, "You're really pushing your luck with me, woman! If we weren't in Kiri's house right now I'd blast you right through that fucking wall!"

"Pfft, whatever! You wouldn't do shit. You're all bark and no bite, you fucking douche canoe!"

"You ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a bitch guys might actually want to talk to you?"

That did it. He'd finally found one of your hot buttons and you couldn't take his shit anymore. You marched right up to him and got right up in his face, height difference be damned.

"You know what, fuck you, Bakugou! I'm not normally like this! You're the only person who…drives me to this madness!", you spat with tears in your eyes.

A second later, his hands were on either side of your face, crashing his lips down onto yours. You were so shocked you froze before pulling away from him, staring at him in astonishment. He just stood there, huffing, glaring back at you, waiting.

You stepped forward and pushed him, his back hitting the wall, hard. But before he could protest, your lips were on his again. He grabbed you by your arms and spun you around, pinning you against the wall. You slipped your tongue past your open mouth, his meeting yours halfway as he pushed his knee between your legs. He pressed his thigh against your sex, shoving his growing cock against your thigh in the process.

Taking the bottom of his shirt into two fistfuls, you eagerly pushed it up to his chest, exposing his washboard abs and god-like pecs. He quickly pulled it over his head and threw it to the floor while your shaky hands got busy with his belt and zipper, urgently, like you couldn't get to him soon enough. But his will took over when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head so he could peel your shirt off. He dipped down to take a mouthful of your tit, cupping what he couldn't fit in his rough hand, swirling his tongue around your nipple, sucking, then releasing you from the inside of his mouth to flick the tip of his tongue over your pink nub. You grabbed two handfuls of his ash blond locks and arched your back off the wall as he gave your other breast the same treatment.

You impatiently tugged on his hair, hungry for the taste of his sweet lips again. Your tongues once again fought for dominance and you gasped when he picked you up in one swift movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to Kiri's bedroom, swinging the door shut behind him before slamming your back against it.

"Put me down", you said forcefully.

He stopped sucking on your neck long enough to rasp, "And why the fuck should I?"

"Because I want to get into your fucking pants, asshole".

For once you two agreed on something and with your feet back on the floor, you got back to work on his pants before reaching in and wrapping your hand around his hot dick. Shit, you could barely get your fingers all the way around it, it was so thick. You stroked him a couple of times before pulling him out, exposing his manhood in all of its mouth-watering glory.

He ran his hand down his sculpted stomach, spreading his fingers to either side of his girth. "Like what you see?" You realized you were staring at his dick and the pre that dripped from it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", you sassed.

He growled and spun you around, pushing your front against the wall and swiftly closing in behind you. Wisps of your (color) hair fluttered around his hot breath as he breathed down your neck. "You keep on tryin' to hide it, but you want me just as much as I want you, princess, and I'm gonna make an honest girl outta ya".

His battle-hardened hands found their way down your back, around your waist and all the way to your belly before he slid them down, his fingers reaching below your waistband. You willed him to push his hands further down, pressing your backside against his erection. He used one deft hand to unbutton your pants and work your zipper down, granting himself better access. When he mercifully slipped his middle finger between your folds, you couldn't choke back the moan that emerged from the back of your throat.

"Damn", he growled behind your ear, "for someone who can't stand me, your pussy sure is wet for me".

"Shut up", you gritted through your teeth.

The feeling of the rough pad of his finger teasing your swollen clit nearly sent you over the edge. But it was short-lived and you whined when he pulled his hand away to shove your pants down around your ankles, accompanied by your damp panties. Your hands slid down the wall as he yanked your ass back towards him. You hung your head and watched the head of his cock as Bakugou fucked your thighs, back and forth over your slit, coating his fat cock with your slick, readying himself.

When he began pushing into you, your legs shook from the sheer pressure as he slowly filled you up. When he bottomed out, he held himself still, at least considerate enough to give you time to adjust to his size. He waited until you started grinding against him before grabbing your hips, and slowly withdrawing.

"Now let's see if I can fuck all that hate for me out of you". Before you could retort, he slammed his cock back into you, your pitiful cry mixed with his loud groan echoing off the walls of Kiri's bedroom. He set his pace, steady and hard, the cold buckle of his open belt pressing into your skin with every crash of his hips.

"Yeah, who knows? Maybe if you'd get your dick wet every once in a while you wouldn't act like one", you quipped, voice faltering as he pounded into you.

He slowed his pace to bend over you, pushing your hair out of the way before biting down on the nape of your neck.

"Oww!! What the fuck?!"

He stood up straight again, laughing and said, "All bark and no bite, hah? You just hadn't pushed me far enough yet!" The sweet and salty mixture of his sweat and your need could be heard with every loud slap of his skin against yours.

"Fuck! Bakugou-", you whined in spite of yourself.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a firm tug. "When're ya gonna stop callin' me by m'last name and call me Katsuki instead?"

"When you stop acting like a raging asshole towards me", you managed as he fucked the breath out of you.

"Brave words for someone in such a compromising position. Now - say - my - fucking - name!". Each word came with its very own plunge of his cock into your mess of a cunt.

Your legs started to give out. "Katsuki!" You hadn't meant to obey him, but he'd kept his word and made you honest.

"That's better". You could hear the smirk in his voice after hearing his first name fall from your quivering lips.

You turned to face him when he pulled out, kissing him hard, his fingers going into your hair. You inched backwards onto the bed, Katsuki crawling in towards you with a primal look in his crimson eyes before nestling his thighs between yours and sheathing himself deep inside you again. Your head rolled back as you arched your back off the bed. Gods, the feeling of him filling you up was quickly becoming your new favorite sensation.

He nuzzled his face against your neck as he rutted into you, pulling your thigh up to his hip bone, raking his teeth against your skin. His breathing had become more labored and he started thrusting faster, your pleasure mounting with the increased friction of his pubic bone against your clit until rays of bliss shot out from every pore of your skin at the speed of light.

"K-ka-tsuki, I'm c-cumming hahh oh goddd!" The pulsating grip that you had on him finally sent him to his end as well, growling your name and cursing between clenched teeth, burying himself deep inside you as he unloaded rope after thick rope of his white hot cum into your snug, soft warmth.

"Seems Shitty Hair’s gonna get more than one surprise tonight", Katsuki said, catching his breath.

You laughed so hard that Katsuki hissed at the feeling of your walls squeezing his sensitive cock so soon after his orgasm.

"You still hate me?", he asked, brushing his lips against yours, supporting his weight with his elbows.

"Hmm...that depends", you said thoughtfully, tracing the cut of his back muscles with your fingertips.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you'd still fuck me if I don't hate you".

He smirked. "I'd still hit it even if you love me", he whispered, showing his softer side as he kissed you, smiling.