#Same color same size same everything. Twenty times

[martuzzio]

Etho washing his twenty seven identical shirts because "everything else is too itchy" (autism. It's autism)

Aka an environment study based off of this photo

[prod-ddeonu]

POOL PARTY (l.hs)

MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!

PAIRING: brother's best friend! Heeseung x fem! reader

WC: ~7.3k (whoops my bad)

CW/TW: older brother's best friend, smut (MDNI, 18+) , 1% angst, family problems, fluff, degrading + praise (receiving), oral (both), fingering (receiving), protected (BE SAFE), choking (receiving), spit, hickeys, hee calls reader a slut/whore like twice, public sex/outdoor sex, drinking, assault (if you squint), jealous heeseung, he kind of has a corruption kink and size kink (?), inexperienced reader, lmk if I missed anything!

SUMMARY: Blaring music, colorful lights, free alcohol, horny girls, cool water: pool parties were Lee Heeseung's favorite type of party. When you heard that your older brother, Jake, was throwing one in your back yard for Heeseung's birthday, you took your chance to have Heeseung finally notice you. Luckily for you, Heeseung knew your plan; and two can play that game.

FEATURING: Taehyun of TXT, enha (minus Niki and jungwon)

Buy me a Ko-fi!

Much like every college student, Lee Heeseung loved three things: money, alcohol, and pool parties. You recalled this as Heeseung and your brother walked into the living room shouting about how “awesome” their party will be, raving about your parents finally deciding to go out for the weekend. Heeseung stopped in the doorway upon seeing your figure curled onto the couch, watching Twilight for the thousandth time. 

“Hey, birthday boy,” you teased, your eyes leaving the television in front of you. Jake locked eyes with you before rolling his own.

“No, you can't go,” Jake replied, annoyance coating his tone. “This party is for cool people only," he swiped at a loose strand of his blonde hair as it fell over his face.

You sighed, putting a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Then why are you going?” You joked back. Heeseung laughed lightly at your response.

He walked to where he could see the screen before turning to Jake. “I don't see why she can't come, it'll be here and all the guys will be here to make sure she's safe,” Heeseung reasoned. His arms rested against the top of the couch, leaning forward as he came closer to you.

Your head turned to face your brother’s best friend, eyeing how his newly silver hair complimented his tan skin. He wore a silver chain over his shirt, the metal dangling dangerously close to you.

Jake groaned, rolling his eyes again. “That's the problem, dude! Tons of guys will be drinking and looking at my baby sister like a piece of meat!” He shouted. “It's best if she just goes to her friend's house and stays far away that night.”

Jake angrily tapped his phone, sending a text to his friends.

You scoffed. “‘Baby sister’? Jake, I'm almost twenty years old.”

He ran a hand through his hair, aggravation evident on his face. “Twenty, twelve, same shit. My answer is final, you are not going to our party.”

You shrugged in response. “And if I happen to want to go for a swim in my own pool with Sunoo, then what?”

“I’ll inflate the kiddy pool for you two.”

You fiddled with the tiny black box in your hands nervously as Sunoo, your best friend, examined its contents. “Y/N, I'm not sure this is a good idea,” he sighed, placing the object back in the box.

Your shoulders fell as you put the box next to you. Sunoo came to sit next to you, running his hand over your back soothingly. “Maybe if you would tell me why this damn thing was ‘so cool’ I'd reconsider my opinion,” the blonde gestured towards you.

You held the silver sun-shaped pendant in your palm. “It's embarrassing,” you mumbled. 

“Then why are you giving it to hot boy Heeseung?”

You slapped your palm on top of Sunoo’s mouth, glancing towards your door in a panic. “Don't say that shit so loud, Sunoo!” He raised his arms in surrender before you spoke again. “I just… It's something between me and him, and I'm sure he'll understand the meaning.”

“Ooh, did you two fuck on the beach or something?” Sunoo bounced up and down, hitting his knees excitedly. “Tell me EVERYTHING!”

You laughed lightly. “No, that's not it,” you traced the outline of the metal Sun. “It’s much more meaningful and realistic than that.”

When you were sixteen, your family took a trip to the beach. You had just begun to bloom into womanhood, according to your mother. Jake had decided to bring his friend from school, Heeseung. 

Heeseung was possibly the most popular senior at your high school, your brother a close second to him. You had sat at the bottom of the food chain your entire freshman and sophomore year, until you’d come to school after spring break with a completely new look.

It was the last night of your trip, and you'd decided to go out to the shore one more time before going home. You made your way out in your tank top and shorts, the sandals on your feet crunchy with sand.

The sea greeted you with its soft crashes, the salty, sticky breeze hitting you slowly. You closed your eyes and relished in the tranquility.

Quietly, sniffles began to enter your ears. Your head snapped in their direction, seeing your brother's best friend still shirtless and in his swim trunks that he'd worn all day. He sat with his knees curled into his chest, his brown hair blown askew from the wind.

You walked over to him quietly, sitting next to him with your legs out and arms behind you. “Wanna talk about it?” You asked gently, your eyes never leaving the shore. 

He shook his head as it sat against his knees with another sniffle. You brought your hand up to run through his hair, a common gesture you did. Stopping mid-air, you watched as his shoulders shook with the force of his breathing.

Heeseung’s body visibly relaxed at the feeling of your fingers gently carding through his hair. “Whatever it is, it'll be okay. I'm here for you, if you need someone to talk to,” you comforted him in a light voice.

He couldn't get himself to pick his head up, too afraid to have anyone see him so disheveled. “It's- It's-” he stammered, hiccuping between words. 

You shushed him, whispering that it was okay and that he didn't need to force himself. He lifted his head up, watching the way you stared towards the open ocean as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

He admired the way your hair fell over your shoulders, slightly wavy from the salt water. He watched a smile grace your cheeks, freckles and a slight tint from a sunburn being gently illuminated by the moonlight bouncing from the water. 

“It's my family,” he scratched out, his throat burning from his emotions. “They just, God, they're so shit. My parents fight all the fucking time, and then they expect me to clean up their messes when they throw shit and scare my little siblings. I come home half the time to one of my parents drunk as shit, high off their ass, or flipping their shit at one of the kids.”

He glanced at you, as if to ask if he could continue. You nodded slowly, your eyes giving him all of the reassurance he needed. “I don't want to go home,” he mumbled. “This week with your family has been the best week of my life. I'm not scared to walk out of my room or talk to you all, your family is so loving and easy to be with. I'm so thankful your family let me come and treated me like one of their own.”

Heeseung cracked out another choked sob. “I'm so tired of having to work my ass off to pay bills, and fix shit, and take care of my siblings in my parents’ place, and do good in school, and-”

Heeseung felt his body freeze at the feeling of your soft fingers wiping the tears from his cheeks. He leaned into your touch as you continued to hold his face, his eyes closing in comfort. “You don't have to keep this all to yourself, y'know,” you smiled down to him.

He lifted his eyes to yours, making your breath hitch. The delicate moonlight created a shadow over his face that only served to increase his attractiveness, despite his puffy eyes. His round, doe eyes had a white shine from the illuminated night above him, and you couldn't tell if the stars you were seeing lived in the sky or if they simply lived in his eyes.

“Heeseung,” you breathed out. “You'll always be part of our family.”

Heeseung wrapped his arms around your arms, his chin coming to sit on your shoulder. You let your hands hold his back soothingly, your palms running up and down as he breathed. He brought his face back, staring into your own eyes.

His breath reached your lips with each exhale. “Y/N, you're like a ray of sunshine, y'know?” He laughed, a perfect smile over his features.

“You sound cheesy,” you joked. “But if I can be a ray of sunshine for you when you need it, then I'll be your Sun.”

The two of you sat like that, the last words of your conversation hanging in the air. His face was so, so close to your own.

His eyes flicked down to your lips as he slowly leaned in. “Whenever I need it?” He asked, gauging your reaction.

“Anytime,” you breathed out, almost whispering.

His arms unraveled from your body, hands holding your chin and cheek softly. “What if I just want it?”

You closed the distance, pressing your lips against his, hoping to God that he'd reciprocate. His lips moved against your own slowly, never escalating the kiss beyond just that: a kiss. He pulled away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against your own. He laughed lightly, his shoulders bouncing with him. “Thank you, Y/N, for talking to me. I won't forget this.”

Sunoo sat with his jaw hung open as you finished recalling the story of your conversation with Heeseung. “So you two kissed?!” Sunoo all but yelled.

You jumped up and slammed your door shut, a threatening glare in your eyes. “Shut up!” You whisper-shouted. “The last thing I need is for Heeseung to hear you, or worse, Jake!”

Sunoo swooned in your bed overdramatically. “And you got him a sun pendant to remind him you're his Sunshine, oh my GOSH! So romantic!”

You put the box back onto your desk. “Not exactly,” you smiled. “Just… friendly.”

“Oh, shut up! You guys kissed all romantically, have you two been sneaking around?”

“Nothing ever happened after that, actually. We just went back to how it was before, with him being Jake's friend and me not being allowed to interact with Jake’s guy friends.”

Sunoo slammed his hands onto your mattress. “Okay, I see the problem. We have to kill Jake.”

Your eyes widened as Sunoo wordlessly slid his finger across his throat. His eyes were wide with exaggeration.

“Oh my God, Sunoo, no! We're not killing my brother!” You laughed, your large t-shirt falling over your gym shorts. 

Sunoo shrugged. “No fun,” he mumbled. He suddenly snapped his fingers as he got an idea, jumping off your bed and tearing through your closet. 

You ran over to him, catching clothes as he threw them behind himself. “Sunoo, what are you doing?!” You shouted, laughter tearing through your body.

He mumbled, “I know you've gotta be hiding your sexy clothes in here,” as he flipped your entire dresser drawer of swimwear upside down. He smiled devilishly, pulling out a white bikini. He held it over your body, his tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he squinted his eyes.

“Sunoo, what are you planning?”

“We're crashing that party, and you're crashing Heeseung,” he stated. He nodded once as he examined where the suit fell and exclaimed, “SEXALICIOUS!”

You giggled, the two of you falling into fashion show mode, trying on different clothes from your closet.

Heeseung stood outside your door, a blush on his cheeks. As he'd promised, he never forgot that night on the beach. In fact, he thought about it quite often. Hearing you laugh every time he came over, seeing you run around with Sunoo happily, the way you would innocently smile at him as if he wasn't thinking about how beautiful you were that night: it drove him crazy.

As time passed and you grew into the adult you are now, Heeseung began to think about how beautiful you would be in front of him, with his cock down your throat. He wanted to ruin the innocence behind your smile.

The day had finally come. It was Heeseung’s twenty-first birthday, the day that you and Sunoo had been planning for weeks. Your parents cooked a simple ramen for everyone, the cake being the main course. 

Of course, you'd helped decorate the cake. Your mother was only capable of making a sheet cake, so you helped her ice it with smiley faces everywhere and “HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEESEUNG” being drawn in the center. 

Heeseung watched as you placed the candles carefully, wanting all twenty-one to be even. He walked over to you as you placed the finishing candle, noticing you were alone.

Heeseung had been planning for this day. At least, he'd been planning since he overheard your plans. He was going to drive you to your absolute limit, and put your simple plan (which he knew would already be highly effective) to its fullest potential.

He smiled at the cake, glancing at you. “Thank you, Y/N. This looks delicious,” he commented. 

Your eyes shot around the room. “Watch out, Heeseung. Jake might froth at the mouth if he sees any of his friends talking to me tonight.”

“Well,” he swiped his finger into the icing, gathering a dollop of white on it, “we'll just have to be sneaky, then.” 

You turned to him, mouth open and ready to scold him for messing with the cake (and your head). He smirked, dragging his finger along his tongue slowly. You watched as the icing spread over it, his tongue flat against his finger. He quietly groaned at the flavor. “Fuck,” he practically moaned. 

“‘Fuck’?” You breathlessly whispered.

He looked at you, licking the rest off of his lips. “Tastes so good, Y/N,” he murmured with half-lidded eyes.

 Suddenly, his sweet eyes had opened back up as his smile reached his ears again. “Can't wait to eat it!” He cheerily harped before walking out of the room, leaving you in a state of confusion and with a puddle in your skirt.

“BITCH!” Sunoo shouted upon hearing of your interaction with Heeseung. He laughed loudly, his tropical shirt and black swim trunks complimenting the sunglasses he wore atop his head. “He is so flirting with you!”

You walked out of your closet, doing a dramatic twirl in your bikini. You had a pair of glasses on your head, matching Sunoo’s. He clapped and hooted while you did a few more moves, including the iconic Elle Woods “bend and snap”.

Sunoo scanned your figure, from your curled hair down to your painted toes. “Are you seriously wearing an anklet?” He asked as you stood.

You looked down at it. “Yeah, what's wrong with it? It matched the pendant I'm giving Heeseung, I thought it would be cute.”

“It is,” Sunoo nodded, “if you want to tell him you want it to dangle over his shoulder, that is.”

He looked up at you, expecting you to take it off. 

When you made no move to do so, his eyes widened as he began to shout. “Oh my God! You dirty whore, look at you growing up!”

He stood next to you, eyeing the both of you in your mirror before putting an arm over your shoulder. “We could pass as a cute couple, couldn't we?” He commented.

The two of you faked it for about two more seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunoo holding onto your shoulder to keep from falling.

As you heard the door to your house opening, followed by boisterous laughter and shouting, you knew that the party was starting. You and Sunoo walked down the stairs, your gift to Heeseung in your hands. 

Jake's friend, Sunghoon, whistled lowly as you walked into the room. “Damn, Jake, didn't know you had a girlfriend,” he commented.

Heeseung turned to you quickly, his eyes going wide and his cheeks turning red as he checked you out. If he had been trying to hide it, he did not do a good job of it. He shut his open mouth and blinked quickly before trying to get ahold of himself.

Jake looked at you in shock and disgust. “That's my sister, you douche!” Jake shouted. 

“Is she single?” Sunghoon asked flirtatiously.

Heeseung and Jake both shot a look at the boy. 

“Off limits.”

“Don't even try it.”

The two looked at each other after they spoke simultaneously, both shrugging and looking back at Sunghoon with glares.

You came up between Heeseung and Jake, eyeing Sunghoon up and down. “Actually, I am single,” you smiled. “I'll be at the party all night, if you wanted to hang,” you hoped your attempt at blatantly flirting would get to Heeseung.

From the way his jaw clenched, it did.

Your bubble was burst, however, by Jake’s hand on your wrist. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I told you, you are not invited,” Jake dragged you back to the stairs. “Whether you live here or not, you will stay in your room.”

You opened your mouth to protest, only for Heeseung to come up next to you and pluck the sunglasses off of your head. “Why do you have these anyways? You do realize it’s nighttime, right?” He asked, putting them in his own hair.

You rolled your eyes. “Can I at least give Heeseung his birthday gift?” 

Jake shook his head no as Heeseung nodded at you. He smiled tenderly, his hand settling on your shoulder. “I'll find you after the party's over so you can give it to me, yeah?”

You sighed, pretending to give in. “Alright, that works. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my room all night. All alone! The one right by the-”

“Alright, horndog, I'll be sure to relay the message that your brother will beat the shit out of anyone who tries to go, don't worry,” Jake began to push you up the stairs.

As Jake and Heeseung greeted more people, you watched the red solo cups fill outside your window. “Sun,” you called out, “do you think girls are gonna hit on Heeseung?”

“I think girls are going to flash him, too,” Sunoo deadpanned. You frowned at him, your makeup not being able to hide your worry. “Girls are going to throw themselves at a hot guy like him, but that guy out there was one of many who will be begging for your attention tonight.”

He walked over to you, rubbing your arms. “You are hot shit tonight, babe. If you want Heeseung to notice you, you've gotta flaunt it.”

After the two of you snuck back into the party, it took about five minutes before a guy offered to show you how to use a keg. Once you'd gotten that information, you were unstoppable.

You had about four cups of beer before deciding to take a break, the buzz making you dizzy. You let your feet dangle into the water of the pool, watching the way the water rippled under your feet.

The slight waves in your pool from people swimming reminded you of that night on the beach so many years ago. There was no way Heeseung remembered, you thought. You were probably just a kid to him, or a little sister. 

You looked up and took in the scene of your backyard. You’d seen it from your window many nights, but you’d never been immersed into it. Girls ran around with pool floats in skimpy swimsuits, guys targeted one another with water guns, your pool was decorated with LED lights and stray solo cups, and your brother was easily the life of the party. 

Currently, your dad’s expensive speaker setup for the pool was blaring “Beauty and a Beat” by Justin Beiber. You watched as a beach ball was tossed around the party, beer splashing onto the ground and water dripping down bodies.

You felt a leg brush against your own as someone sat next to you. A shirtless man with big eyes and an impressive physique sat next to you, his hair dripping with water. “You ever been to one of Jake’s parties?” The man asked.

You shook your head, “I’ve only ever heard of them, this is my first party.” The man watched as you took another chug of your drink.

He let his hand touch against the flush on your cheeks, smiling at you. “I can tell, you look bored as fuck. My name’s Taehyun.”

“Hi, Taehyun. I’m Y/N,” you smiled, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He looked at you with a confused smile, shaking your hand slowly. He then intertwined your fingers, his pink hair dripping water into your hand. His muscles flexed as he helped you stand with him, his pretty hand coming to steady you. “Say, do you want something a little better than beer? It tastes like shit, a pretty girl like you needs quality drinks."

You glanced at your cup, eying the amount of beer you had left. You chugged the rest, nodding as you swallowed. “Yeah, what the hell? I'm always up for a challenge.”

He cocked a brow. “Oh? I like that,” he held your hands as he led you to the drink table. 

You handed him your cup as he poured a mixture of clear liquid, lime, and frozen pink lemonade into a cup. “Try this. It's good, and it's not enough to fuck you up off one cup,” he smiled. 

You pushed the drink down your throat, your eyes widening as you swallowed. “Holy shit, Taehyun. This tastes like a fucking slushy.”

“I know, it's awesome,” he praised himself.

As you laughed, you felt a pair of eyes glaring at you. You hoped it wasn't Jake as you sound around.

Heeseung sat behind you, a girl sitting sideways on his lap. You watched as she ran her hand up and down his chisled abs, his hands behind his head. She whispered into his ear, a smirk crossing his lips, but you knew she didn't have his undivided attention at the moment.

His eyes were burning into you, and if looks could kill, the entire neighborhood would have gone up in flames. With a clenched jaw and raised eyebrows, he glared at you as if to say don't even try it. He stared at you so intently that you felt almost ashamed for talking to Taehyun.

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your trance. “Taehyun, do you want to try a sip?”

He looked you up and down. “I mean, sure,” he stepped closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close enough to have you pour the drink into his mouth yourself.

Your lips curved into a smile. “Flirting, huh?” You teased him.

He smiled back. “Is it working?”

You grabbed his chin, forcing his face closer to yours. “Only if you're looking to get laid tonight,” you said, sure that Heeseung was reading your lips.

You glanced at the boy, his jaw clenched again. He returned his focus to the girl on his lap, his hand gripping at her thigh. You watched as she turned to him, a gasp escaping her lips.

Taehyun smirked as he crashed his lips into yours, a much different kiss from the one you shared with Heeseung four years ago. His hand wove its way into your hair, his other hand holding your hip. He pushed your body against his, your back arching into him as you let out a moan.

He took the opportunity to insert his tongue into your mouth, clashing against your own. He sucked your tongue harshly, his lower hand gravitating towards your ass. You brushed your leg against Taehyun’s crotch, a low groan leaving his lips as he pulled away. “Maybe we should take this where we can't be seen by everyone, yeah?”

You nodded, Taehyun already starting to lead you to the side of your house. You watched as the two of you walked into the seclusion of the shadow cast by it, your heart racing.

Maybe, having seen Heeseung with the other girl and believing he doesn't want you the way you want him, you could move on.

Taehyun placed a hand on the wall of your house, your foreheads touching. “God, you're so hot,” he sighed, capturing your lips again. It was one filled with lust, with teeth clashing and lip biting.

You grabbed his hand and lifted it to your chest as he backed away and looked at you. “Are you sure?” He asked. “I don't want it to be the beer talking.”

You nodded, throwing your head back as he kneaded your boob over your swimsuit. He squeezed your mound in time with every jab of his tongue into your mouth, occasionally pinching your nipple through the material. You had all but cum from him just kissing and touching your chest when he was suddenly ripped away from you.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Taehyun shouted, bracing himself as he hit the ground.

You watched as Heeseung didn't spare the man a glance, his attention entirely on you. His eyes raked over your figure mercilessly, making you feel small in your own yard. 

Taehyun looked between the two of you, confusion and anger evident on his face. “Tae, go back to the party. You don't want her,” Heeseung said in a low voice.

Taehyun scoffed. “And who are you to make decisions for her?” His arms came to cross in front of his chest.

“She's Jake’s little sister,” Heeseung turned his head to face the other. “He'll kill you.”

Taehyun cursed under his breath before running off, hoping your brother hadn't seen your show earlier. Your eyes followed him, wondering if he could’ve given you what you’d been hoping for.

You glared at Heeseung. “What the fuck is your problem, Hee? You can't just tell me what to do!” You pushed him back by his chest, your smaller hands barely moving him.

Heeseung’s eyes locked onto yours, his stare harder than anything you’d seen before. He stared at you like you were wrong for kissing Taehyun, wrong for kissing anyone else. His hair, which he used your sunglasses to push back after jumping into the pool, still dropped some water onto his neck and shoulders. You watched as a droplet fell down his collarbones, trailing down his chest and stomach, collecting in the waistband of his swim trunks.

You wanted to lick every bead of water off of his body.

His tongue peeked out of mouth to wet his lips, his teeth catching the bottom of the two as his eyes fell to where Taehyun had touched. 

His hands balled into fists as he fought his desires. He closed his eyes, groaning in anger. “Go to your room. Jake will never talk to either of us again if we do this.”

He turned to walk away, taking two steps before you spoke up. “Do fucking what, Hee? Instead of me falling for that fucking show you put on earlier with the cake, I decided to go and find someone who was actually into me. Nowhere does that involve you!”

Heeseung turned around. “You think I’m not into you? You don’t think I’ve been fighting myself to not kiss you all this time?” He raised his voice, the tension finally getting to him.

Suddenly, it was too hot outside. In the cool night air, your body temperatures began to rise to unseen numbers.

“I don’t know, Heeseung. You sure didn’t have to do much fighting if you’ve lasted four years.”

He slammed his hand against your head onto the wall, much harder than Taehyun had. Your faces were inches away from one another, you could smell the beer on his breath. “I see your pretty fucking lips in my dreams, Y/N. I’ve had to imagine your pretty little face and how it would look if you were choking on me for ages, and tonight, I have to watch you parade around with your ass out and your tits barely covered? Do you know how badly I wanted to rip these clothes off you when you walked down those stairs?”

You held your breath, his eyes glancing to your lips. “What makes you think I won't just walk away and go find someone else?” You asked. The two of you both knew you were bluffing, an empty threat that only served to make Heeseung angrier.

“If anyone’s fucking you tonight, it’s gonna be me.”

Heeseung looked into your eyes, how they were wide with anticipation for him. He looked down to your lips, admiring how they were already pouty and puffy for him, begging for him to kiss you right. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your own. 

You threw your arms over his shoulders, his hand holding the back of your head as he pushed your mouths impossibly close. His other hand slid down the curve of your hips, holding onto your leg and pulling it up to wrap around his hips. You moaned as you felt his hard-on press into you, Heeseung taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. The two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, Heeseung winning and taking your lip between his teeth. He backed away, loving how you looked under him. “Go inside. I’ll excuse myself from the party and meet you in your room.”

You nodded, walking towards your front door to sneak back in. Heeseung jogged back around the house to find your brother. Jake was laughing with his friends, a girl sat on his leg as he played with her hair. “Yo, Heeseung!” He called out, obviously plastered. 

Heeseung walked to him, yawning. “Dude, I hate to say this, but I’m feeling super tired. Must’ve been all the swimming and all the beer, man.” Jake looked around the party, seeing how everyone else was still partying.

Jake put his cup onto the table behind him. “Do you want me to call off the party? It is your party, after all.”

Heeseung shook his head. “Nah, keep it going. I’m just gonna head inside and go to bed, but don’t stop the party. Keep it going as long as possible, actually.” Jake cocked a brow at him in confusion. “In my honor, y’know,” he added. Jake gave him a thumbs up, standing and shouting something incoherent, to which everyone else cheered.

Heeseung ran inside, practically flying up the stairs and to your room. He swung your door open, slamming it shut and smashing his lips onto your own again. He reached his hand behind your back to push the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders, halting all movement when you pushed him off of you.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with worry.

You shook your head, grabbing the black box from your desk and handing it to him. “I wanted to give you this first. I think you’ll like it.”

He nodded, opening the box. “Is that for this?” He asked, holding his chain out. You nodded, helping him put the pendant on.

You sighed as you looked at it. “It’s supposed to be because-”

“Because I called you my ray of sunshine, I remember. I go to sleep thinking about that kiss,” he mumbled at the end.

 You pointed to your ankle. “I have the matching anklet. Figured it would look good over your shoulder.”

Heeseung looked up at you, the toothy grin on his lips contrasting the filthy words coming from them. “I know exactly what position I want you in first.”

He kissed you again, unclasping your top and pulling it off of you as he made his way down your jawline and neck. His fingertips fluttered down your arms gently, goosebumps appearing behind them. He bit along the bottom of your neck, leaving small bruises in his wake. You swallowed a moan, earning a harsh bite from him. “Let me hear your pretty voice, babe,” he whispered into your ear.

His hand slid to your boob, experimentally pinching your nipple with his thumb and index finger. You let out a quiet moan, melting into his touch.

He brought his other hand to your waist, his thumb rubbing circles onto the side of your stomach. He kissed his way down your chest, leaving hickeys all the way down to your free boob. You moaned as he licked your other nipple, the cold air hitting his saliva and making it perk. 

You let out a loud moan, hands flying to the top of his head as he sucked harshly and rolled your other nipple between his fingers. He pushed you against your bed, your legs falling over the side as your back lay on the edge. He continued to roll your nipple between his fingers as he kissed down the valley of your tits, down your stomach, and to the hem of your swimsuit bottoms. "Already so wet for me, why didn't you say you needed me, baby?" He smirked against your stomach, his fingers already curling underneath the material.

“You talked so much shit earlier, and now look at you. You can't even tell me how bad you want me to eat your fucking pussy,” he mused. “Tell me, am I the first?”

You felt his hot breath fan over your clothed core, your wetness showing through the white material. “Y- You’re the first,” you breathily said. Heeseung let out a low groan, a dark smile appearing.

He ripped the clothing down your legs, throwing them to the corner of your room. He looked down at your core, your lips glistening with your wetness. “Fuck, I’ve barely even touched you,” he let the sight and smell invade his senses. “So pretty, baby, so pretty for me. Almost like you were made to be my pretty whore.”

Your hole clenched around his words, the praise going straight to your stomach. He put his finger on your clit, rubbing slow circles over it before dragging it down to your hole and back up. He pulled his finger to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. Sucking your juices into his mouth, he closed his eyes and moaned. “Taste so good, might have to just eat you out until you’re begging for my cock.”

“Hee, please,” you whined.

“Please what, babe?” He cooed, the tip of his finger pushing into where you needed him most. “You think Taehyun could’ve made you needy like this? Think he could’ve had you whining for him like this?”

“N- No, Hee, only you,” you moaned as he pushed his finger all the way in, curling it to make your back arch.

He laughed cruelly at how sensitive you were, fanning his breath over your heat. He wanted to watch the way you squirmed over a singular finger, wanted to see the way you saw stars from him doing so little to you. He wanted to stay strong, palming himself over his shorts to the sound of you.

You moaned loudly, your legs twitching. Heeseung growled, his resolve shattering into pieces as he dragged the tip of his tongue up from your hole to your clit slowly, eyes rolling back in his head at the taste.

"Fuck, Y/N, you taste so amazing. Could eat you all day."

He latched his lips onto your folds, licking and sucking your slick until his nose and chin were shiny with it. He pumped his finger fast, a relentless pace building up. You felt a knot in your stomach building, his lips coming to latch around your clit and suck. “‘m close,” you mumbled, your head thrown back. 

He sloppily licked over your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the euphoria he’d been building you up to. He added a second finger, stretching you out and pushing you over the edge. You saw white and your ears rang as he swallowed as much of your juices as he could, the rest coating his chin and nose still. Once he was sure you’d come down from your high, he brought his lips to your own and kissed you, forcing you to taste yourself. It wasn’t as sweet as he made it out to be, but if he enjoyed it, you guess. 

“So good for me, you’re so, so good for me baby. My pretty baby, already all fucked out for me,” he commented, holding your jerking hips down. “Get on your knees.”

You obeyed, sliding to the floor on your weak legs, your eyes staring into his. He pulled his shorts off of his body, his hard dick slapping his stomach, leaving a string of precum attaching his tip to his lower abdomen. He looked at you expectantly. “Can’t expect me to teach you everything, not when you were gonna give another guy the same like I haven’t been waiting.”

You wrapped your hand around his member, the tip continuing to leak into your hand. Heeseung wasn’t monstrously thick, but he was long. His girth was what you’d consider average, if not a little above, but his length was longer than you’d imagined he could be. You used your thumb to spread his precum down the underside of his cock, bringing your head to lick up the trail you created from base to tip. He threw his head back, a pretty moan slipping past his lips as you put your lips around the tip and sucked. 

The tension in his shoulders released, his jaw going slack as you tried to fit him inside your mouth. He found it so cute how you tried your best, but so sexy that your proportions were so much smaller, that he had to fit himself in you.

You used your hands to stroke where you couldn’t reach, your head not going very far beyond his head. He moaned loudly as you used your tongue against his slit, his hand collecting your hair into a ponytail.  He thrusted into your mouth, his dick going down your throat and making you gag. “Shit, baby, are you okay?” He asked quickly.

You nodded, pulling yourself off of him. “I’ve never done this before, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he stroked the side of your face. “That makes this more fun. I can help, if you want.”

“Please.”

His cock twitched in your hands as he looked down at you, your eyes teary and your chin dripping with slobber. You were fully naked on the floor in front of him, your hair messy and your chest marked. And you looked so beautiful for him.

He moaned at the begging tone of your voice, the hand in your hair holding your head in place as he thrusted forward. He was holding back from going fast, you could tell. You gripped his thighs, your nails digging into them as you moaned around his dick. He sucked in a breath, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit,” he hissed, “I almost came doing that.”

He pulled you up by your hair, the pain making you drip down the inside of your thighs. You moaned loudly as he jerked your head around, littering your chest with more hickeys. “Trying so hard to be gentle with you, I promise. You’re just so perfect, want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“Hee, be rough. Wanna feel you,” you moaned into his kiss. 

His eyes squeezed shut, a low groan emerging from the back of his throat. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He threw you onto your bed, climbing on between your legs and pinning your hands above your head with one hand. He kissed you roughly, his teeth grazing whatever skin they could.

His finger tapped the side of your lips. “Open,” he commanded. You opened your mouth, watching the glob of saliva fall from his lips. “Swallow.” You let the warm liquid travel down your throat as he said it. “Good girl,” he cooed in your ear sweetly, his stomach filling with warmth as he watched you. “Want everyone out there to hear how good you are for me. So bratty and talkative outside, and now you want my cock so bad you’ll do anything, isn’t that right?”

You nodded. “Want you s’ bad, Hee,” you whined as he rubbed his thumb against your clit. “Wanna feel you in me.”

You reached under your pillow, pulling a condom out and handing it to him. He ripped the package open with his teeth, sliding the rubber on easily. “Had it ready for me, you knew I’d be in you tonight, didn’t you? My pretty little slut,” he teased as he pressed the tip of his dick against your hole. 

He grabbed your legs, bringing them over his shoulders. True to your word, your anklet dangled next to his face as his matching necklace hung over your face. He pushed your legs closer to you, pressing you in on yourself as he slowly started to push in. “Stop teasing,” you stammered. “P- Push it in all the way.”

He threw his head forward, watching his cock disappear into you and bulge in your stomach. “S’ tight, s’ happy I got to fuck this pretty pussy. Can’t believe you almost let someone else see this when you know it’s all mine,” he spoke filthily over you.

He slowly began to thrust in and out, building up to a fast pace that had your bed creaking. His jaw hung open, shameless moans spilling from his mouth. His breath would catch in his throat, short gasps telling you he found this as pleasurable as you did. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing until you felt lightheaded. He brought you up by your neck to kiss you.

This kiss was much softer and slower than the others. He took his time savoring your lips and their pillowy feel, he committed the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his to memory. He let your head fall back down as he brought his head into your neck. You felt the familiar tightening in your stomach that you had before, his dick filling you up entirely. He moaned into your ear, words of praise falling from his delicate lips with each thrust. “‘S good, ‘s perfect, all mine,” he said. "Ngh, fuck, feels 's tight around me."

Your nails scratched down his back as he ruthlessly pounded into you, a loud moan escaping him as he felt the pain. You moaned his name louder the harder he pounded into you, only fueling his drive. He picked his head up, his eyes bearing into your own. “Tell me whose cock is making you feel this good, hm? Who’s making this tight little pussy cum so hard, hm? Is it anyone out there, or is it me?”

“You, ‘s all you, Heeseung. Don’t want anyone but you, Hee,” you moaned. You felt your orgasm coming quick the more he teased you. “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

Heeseung sucked hard against your neck. “Fuckin’ love when you call me that,” he groaned in your ear. “You’re my baby, all mine, I’m all yours,” he cooed. “Only this pretty pussy makes me feel this good, nobody else.”

You pulled Heeseung back down to you, “Shut up and kiss me, ‘m so close.”

“Fuck, me too,” he said, molding his lips to your own. His mouth caught your whines and moans as you came undone onto him, your cum coating his abdomen and thighs. Your hole spasmed around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm, making him release into the condom.

He panted into your ear, his forehead against your own. The two of you sat in that position for a few minutes, catching your breaths and kissing one another. 

He slowly pulled out of you, tying the condom and tossing it into the trash can. He came back to lay on top of you, holding your waist as he did so. He pulled your blanket over you both, bringing you up to your pillows. “Jake’s gonna wonder where you are, Hee,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he laughed, his hand intertwining with your free one. “Just had sex with the girl I’ve been in love with for four years, he can suck it up.”

You looked down at him. “You’re in love with me?”

He looked back up at you and nodded. “You couldn’t tell?”

“Heeseung, I was going to give up on you after tonight if nothing happened.”

“I was supposed to move on from you too, but I realized I didn’t give a fuck about Jake’s overprotectiveness.”

You laughed. “I don’t think he’ll be too mad. He does trust you with his life, after all,” you smiled while rubbing your thumb over his hand. He brought his head to lay on the pillow next to you, bringing your body closer to his. “So, what does this mean for us?”

Heeseung ran his hand down your side soothingly. “Well, Sunshine, even though I did it insanely out of order,” he laughed, “I’d like to take you out on actual dates and get your parents’ approval and all. Y’know, court you and shit. Treat you like someone I want to spend my life with.”

You smiled. “I’d like that, Hee.”

The two of you fell asleep like that. Needless to say, Jake was not pleased when he went to look for Heeseung in the morning. Your parents immediately gave him the seal of approval to date you, but Jake took much longer to come around. It wasn’t until Heeseung told him he wouldn’t ask you to be his girlfriend until he got Jake’s approval that Jake realized how stupid his friend was.

“You mean to tell me, you’ve been in love with my little sister since that vacation, but you’re waiting on something as stupid as my approval to ask her out?” Jake had asked one morning while the three of you ate breakfast together.

Heeseung nodded, pouring another bowl of cereal for himself. “Yep, pretty much,” he smiled.

“Dude, it’s been, like, a fucking month!” Jake exclaimed. “Why would you do that?”

“He wanted to wait for his best friend to be happy for him and the little sister,” you grumbled, morning crankiness being your worst enemy. Jake looked between the both of you, his eyes wide.

Heeseung’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes like it usually did, his spoon aimlessly stirring his meal. “I want my best friend to not hate me for life if I date his little sister,” Heeseung corrected you.

Jake slammed his fist onto the counter, making you both jump. “Dude, I might beat your ass. Really,” he glared at Heeseung. “I can get over you two dating, but I won’t be able to get over you hurting her.”

“I would never-”

“That includes being an idiot and making her wait,” Jake interrupted Heeseung. “Ask the girl out-”

“Hello, ‘girl’ is right here,” you waved.

Jake held a hand in front of your face. “Ask the girl out, and make her happy.”

Heeseung pushed Jake’s hand out of your face, leaning over the counter. “Hey, girl,” he smiled. Jake rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, leaving his cereal on the counter. Heeseung grabbed your hand with his. “How happy would it make you if I took you out tonight?”

“Well, in my mind we’ve been dating for four years, so I’d be pretty happy,” you smiled as you put a spoonful of cereal in your mouth. 

“Well, girl, I’m excited to celebrate our imaginary four year anniversary when you become my girlfriend tonight."

NOTES: ohhh my gosshhhh this took so long to write 😭 never really written this much before, I'm scared it's repetitive or boring. I just listened to Beauty and a Beat and my mind was like "omg heeseung at a pool party yass"

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, and my asks/requests are always open!

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikaid into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Four: Setting into Motion - Part Two

Teachers POV:

I walked into the class a bit tiredly. This part of the school year was always tiring. Most students were never able to level up and advance their studies till close to the end of the school year. Given that it always seemed pointless to hold tests in each class every month.

I stood at the front of the greenhouse looking at all the students. Since today was an advancement day all the students except for the most advanced were gathered in the bottom floor to be monitored during the test.

I cleared my throat before I began to speak. “Good morning class. Today since we are testing remove all devices and put them in the classroom we use on Tuesdays and Fridays. In five minutes we will be starting.” All the students left except for one.

She looked a bit embarrassed as she stood there not moving. Which one was she again? She was clearly a member of the class but she seemed so meek for a demon. A bit innocent compared to the others in the class. When she caught me staring she stuttered out a quick explanation.

”I don’t have a D.D.D.” She seemed nervous. “You can check my bag if you want. All it has is my class things that I need for today.”

I chuckled a bit. “It’s fine. Although it is odd a young demon such as yourself isn’t keeping up with the latest tech…” I mused as I stared at her more closely.

She mumbled a bit at that looking at the ground embarrassment shown on her face. “I can’t work and attend school at the same time due to my schedule being packed so I don’t buy much stuff.”

The other student returned shortly after and I assigned pots. For some reason I felt like assigning her close to the front where I’d have the clearest eye on her work today. “We will be dealing with a very deadly plant today that is carnivorous. If you know you are not ready to do this simply do not attempt. If you end up overwhelmed then stop the test immediately and inform me of your forfeit. There is no shame in admitting you are in over your head.” I made a particular glance at the pride circle demons in my class as I said the last part knowing how stubborn they can be.

”You will began now. You have one hour to present me with your pots. You are allowed to finish early but take your time.” I clapped my hand signaling them to start.

(Y/N) POV:

Unlike the other students I do not approach my pot. Instead I take out a notebook from my purse and a pen. I sketch a small picture of the seeds sitting on the desk in-front of me. Once done with that I take out a different colored pen to write my observations on the seeds shape and size. I make careful notes on what the teacher said about it being carnivorous. Using this I narrowed it down to a Hallowing Rose. It was the only plant that fit since it matched the seeds look and also was one of the few plants that grows fast enough to reach adulthood in twenty minutes.

The problem with cultivation with this plant though was touching the seeds. It was protected by a layer of acid miasma that was produced by the plant itself to protect the seeds. It could seep through even the most protective material. There was only one way to get past that and it took thirty minutes to prepare. 

All throughout my writing I made sure to keep an anxiety ridden face with an air of concentration. I went over to the other side of the green house where a couple cauldrons were set up with various supplies for plant based potions scattered about. I gathered everything needed and made sure to keep slightly unsteady nervous hands.

I made myself seem to pause for a second and breathe. When I was done I made it look like I was determined rather than scared and move quickly and cautiously  through all the steps. When I was done I grabbed the potion bottle and carried it over to the bowl my seeds sat in and soaked them for the required time. Once done I planted them straight into the pot quickly before watering them with a bit of the blood filled watering cans available. Most everyone had finished by now and time was almost out.

Soon when there was only five minutes left and I was only student still there I was ready. I walked up timidly hiding begins my pot as I handed it to the teacher stuttering out nervously, “I’m done sir.”

Teacher POV:

I looked at the Howling Rose in amazement. Never had I seen a student give such results before. The roses dripped blood from their petals as they seemed to croon a melancholy howl that was what their name sake came from. Despite such wonderful results the girl before me seemed timid. “I failed again didn’t I? I never pass any tests…” She murmured sadly eyes on the ground.

”As a matter of fact you passed.” Her head whipped up an expression of disbelief on her face. “I look forward to seeing you in the second floor next class that we have. Now go so you’re not late for your next class.” 

I gently showed her out before looking at her class records at my desk. She was a wonderful student. A genius practically till you looked at her test. Did she have… test anxiety? How could such a thing be missed till now?! Just who was responsible for her education?

I making a decision used the schools D.D.D landline to call the head of schools secretary. Getting no reply I called the head of the school instead. When he picked up I made sure to sound apologetic. “My apologies Lord Diavolo if this is a bad time. This is about a students need for accommodation for testing. I believe Miss (Y/N) Morningstar has test anxiety. She is practically a genius but her mental issues with anxiety is holding her back. If she could have the right accommodations I’m sure you would see it too.”

”Whatever she needs get it done.” I heard Lord Diavolo voice and it sounded like he was… protective in a way of this student. Perhaps because she was a student council member?

”Understood I’ll inform her other teachers.” I get ready to do so about to hang up when he speaks.

”No need I’ll have it handled personally by Barbatos.” I feel shocked at this but I do as told. “You are dismissed.” He hung up shortly after saying that. I sit there wondering just who is she to him for him to be so serious.

Barnatos POV: 

I wasn’t expecting the Young Master to need me to handle something else so soon but when I heard who it was for I was happy to do it immediately. I rushed through the school quickly getting everything ready before approaching (Y/N) carefully trying not to startle her.

”Barbatos…?” She tilted her head shyly. “Were you in need of something? I’m on my way to my next test.”

”Yes I need you to follow me. Your testing location has changed. In fact your entire classroom experience will be facing some changes. You are now going to be following the schedule of our more delicate student population.” I smiled reassuringly without thinking. I liked taking care of her like this. She looked so adorable when she was shy and embarrassed.

”But Barbatos I’m fine where I am. I manage as I’m needed to.” She looked at me worried by what I said.

”Nonsense. You need help with your test anxiety so you will follow the schedule of the schools special students who get the needed accommodation.” I make my voice slightly stern and try not to regret it when her eye tear up slightly.

”But if I’m only at school for half the day then…” She sniffled slightly, “I won’t be able to to attend student council… and if that happens I won’t see my-“ She stops herself from speaking abruptly as if trying to avoid revealing something.

I speak to her gently, “Leviathan attends such a schedule himself and he is still on the student council. It will be fine, (Y/N).” She looked up at me hesitantly while fiddling.

”Alright then if you insist…” She followed me as I showed her to the back of the school. Once we reached room 2017 I opened the door and showed her inside.

”This is the only classroom you have to worry about now. It has a desk for your work as well as what ever devices you’ll need. There is a laptop bag in one of the drawers that you can take too and from school. You will only spend half the day on school work now, and are only required to do school in this room on testing days. Otherwise you can do it from home on your laptop just make sure to be present for all student council meetings.” I explained as I helped her get settled putting some tea on her desk. “You are done testing for the day since you are only allowed to test once per day now. You can complete two to three classes a day now at your leisure.”

She nodded along taking careful note in a worn notebook that was clearly well loved and used. I smile at her calmly at how cute it was. “Thank you for taking the time to do this Barbatos.” When was the last time I was thanked so sweetly for doing something…? It made my heart a bit fuzzy.

”Your welcome dear.” I left her to her own thoughts as I walked away finding a spot to continue to monitor her discretely as I had been ordered to by my young master.

Diavolo:

~Affection: 29%

“She’s struggling in school. How could none of us notice?! She’s so determined to be able to try to push herself through school anyways. It’d be cute if it wasn’t the for the fact she must have felt like she was drowning trying to keep up her grades. I’ll have to talk to Lucifer during our weekly one on one meeting together.”

~Relation- Kindred spirit in loneliness and fierce mental protector

~Danger Level- Green

Barbatos:

~Affection: 27%

“She’s so determined to be a part of the council even if it hurts her mentally with the strain of trying to keep up in school. Could it be she is trying to keep up with her brothers and spend time with them? How adorable that is. Quiet demons like her who don’t cause me any trouble are so pleasant to take care of.”

~Relation- Silent Observer, ???

~Danger Level- Green

[bookshelf-dust]

who’s pretty?

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2,527

warnings: swearing, kissing, smoking (DON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT), slight seasonal depression, innuendos/suggestive tone towards the end, allusions to nudity, fluff

a/n: hi!! i’ve been super excited to work on some christmas related fics, so here we are. i think it turned out super sweet and i think i might even like it! i really hope you guys like it too!! thanks for putting up with my shit. <333

————

Eddie spit out the plastic wrapper stuck between his teeth, setting the christmas tree cake in his mouth while he readjusted, tossing the film beside him on the porch and holding on to his cigarette more firmly.

Situated, the boy took an aggressive bite of the cake, red and green sprinkles crunching as he chewed. He swallowed, and took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He looked down, assessing the white icing covering his fingertips.

Eddie scarfed down the rest of his cake, licking the residue from his skin. Little Debbie wasn’t doing anything to soothe the ache in his chest. Neither was his cigarette.

Eddie watched the neighbors across the dirt road—it could hardly be called a street—wrap lights around their porch beams. Once up, they plugged them in, warm white lights illuminating the dingy gray of their trailer.

He tapped the ash off into the tray next to his thigh and scoffed a little. He always preferred the multi-colored lights to those.

He perked up, though, as the cat belonging to those very same neighbors leapt from the cat door and out into the sand, presumably in search of a mole or a cricket to snack on.

Eddie scratched his nails against the porch, watching for the cat’s head to snap up and notice that attention was waiting for him across the way.

He bounded over to Eddie, a black streak in the cool and foggy blue of the afternoon, starting to rub over his shoes and calves. “Hey, buddy.”

Eddie scratched behind the cats ears, rubbed his belly when he flipped over. But his visit was cut short as something moved in the overgrown grass and the cat shot away, back to business.

Eddie sighed, pushing off of the worn in wood, moving back inside.

The holiday season used to be Eddie Munson’s favorite time of the year. His uncle Wayne usually got two weeks off of work, and he’d spend them with his nephew, watching cheesy Christmas movies and eating themselves out of house and home.

He never got much in terms of gifts, nothing big or grand. But every band t-shirt Wayne brought home from the thrift store made Eddie’s heart grow two sizes. Every couple guitar picks or album that had a poster in the sleeve that Wayne would watch Eddie giddily tack up in his room.

As for Wayne, Eddie found that mugs were a very good gift, and could mean a lot. They did mean a lot.

Wayne didn’t love anything more than a nine-year-old, doe eyed Eddie running up to him with the present he’d hid in his room all December. He felt the same way when Eddie was twenty.

But it hadn’t been the same in recent years. It hurt, but Eddie knew that’s how it worked. Things changed, and the things you loved as a kid don’t feel the same as you get older. They aren’t the same.

Wayne didn’t get two weeks off for the holidays anymore. The plant wasn’t as abundantly employed as it used to be. He was lucky if he got Christmas Eve off and not just the day of. When Wayne was home, he was tired, and it wasn’t the occasion that it once was, full of hyper Eddie shenanigans.

But Eddie missed it. He missed going on walks to the rich neighborhoods to look at their elaborately set up light displays. He missed laying in bed at night, even long after he knew that Santa was actually Wayne and everything else was capitalist bullshit, trying to go to sleep so that his presents would be delivered.

Fuck, he missed being a kid.

He was lost in this mental turmoil spiral when the door slammed and Wayne returned from picking up dinner. Eddie hopped up, ready to help get plates out and make sure the restaurant hadn't forgotten anything.

"Hey, kiddo?" Wayne asked once they'd settled down to eat. Eddie looked up at his uncle from his place on the floor. With his legs crossed and hands bare of any jewelry, Wayne thought his nephew looked lightyears younger. Like his little boy. Eddie hummed in response.

"Merill's has a good bit of trees left. You wanna go pick one out in the next couple days?" Eddie's eyes lit up and he moved to sit on his knees, stuffing pizza crust in his mouth.

He finished swallowing, "Yeah, of course. You sure you won't be too tired or anything?"

Wayne watched as Eddie scanned for his next breadstick. He'd had that nervous habit since he was little: occupying himself while waiting for a response in fear that something would go wrong.

"No, bud. I'll be just fine."

And so they drove up to the farm and brought home one of the smallest and scraggliest trees--just like they always did. Wayne said those had the most character.

Later when it was getting dark outside and both parties were resting from getting the thing inside and in its stand, Eddie realized it was past time for Wayne to be at work, and he wondered if he'd possibly zoned out enough to entirely miss his uncle's goodbye.

He slipped down the hall, only to see Wayne sorting through various holiday lights. "Uh, Wayne?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Aren't you late for work?"

"No, bud. I've got time off. Suppose I should've mentioned that, huh?" Wayne hadn't forgotten to tell Eddie. How could one forget that they had time off from work? He'd simply wanted it to be a surprise.

Eddie might've been very good at concealing his feelings in general, but Wayne knew he was bummed that Christmas had changed for the both of them. Wayne looked up at Eddie, who was practically beaming.

"Really? How long?"

"Two and a half weeks."

"Shit." Eddie was grinning hard, cheeks pinked and knees bopping slightly. He was excited.

"Guess that means your happy?" Wayne handed the boy one end of the lights to plug in and check they still worked.

"Well, yeah, duh."

"What would you think about asking Y/N over? She could spend the night on Christmas Eve and then the day if she's up for it. Thought maybe you'd like that. I could cook or somethin'."

"I think she'd love that. And you don't have to cook. She'd gladly eat take out, I know."

That night, Wayne stepped out of the bathroom to see Eddie lying on the floor in front of the tree reading, but also staring up at the colored lights in awe. Wayne felt his eyes get glassy and blinking the oncoming tears away. His boy.

He walked over, crouching to plant a prickly kiss in Eddie's curls, only to ruffle them afterwards. "Night, Eds."

Eds. His uncle was the only person that had ever called him that before you. He didn't say it often, but it was one of his favorite things to hear. "Night, Wayne."

————

"Hey, precious." Eddie swung the door open for you, simultaneously shoving a cookie in his mouth.

"Afternoon, Edward." Eddie wrinkled his nose at the use of his birthname, which you kissed in greeting.

"Want a cookie? They've got sprinkles."

"In a second. I've brought a gift for your pretty tree." You set your bag on the coffee table.

"Who's pretty?" Wayne asked, emerging from the back of the trailer.

"You Waynie," Eddie quipped, earning himself a playful smack on the back of the head.

"The tree is pretty, Wayne," you supplied. "I brought it presents. Sorta."

Eddie watched as you dug around, pulling free two ornaments, though he couldn't quite make out what they were.

"Here, Wayne, this one's yours." He held out his hand, and you set the object in his palm. His was a little Garfield ornament. The cat was wearing blue pajamas and was holding a little teeny coffee mug.

Wayne laughed appreciatively. "That's a good one, sweetie. Thank you. Will you find it a good spot on the tree for me?"

"Sure!" He squeezed your shoulder and watched as you put it front and center, towards the middle of the tree, that way Garfield could keep watch.

Wayne walked off into the kitchen, giving you space to give Eddie his prize.

Eddie waited patiently, though that was often a struggle for him. "Okay, I might've gotten you two. But I couldn't not get one of them." Eddie held out both hands, grinning expectantly. It was simple, really, the more you looked at it. A black sphere with purple lettering. One side said Master of Reality, the other Black Sabbath.

"Holy shit," Eddie said, turning the ball over in his hands. "Where'd you find this?"

"The record store in town had a whole bunch of old ornaments on sale, like they'd been cleaning out the back, and I thought you'd like it. Do you?"

Eddie smacked a dramatic kiss on your forehead. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? Of course I like it." He couldn't take his eyes off of it, mainly because it was so sweet of you to have gotten for him, but also because he thought it was funny that the store still had one considering how long the album had been out.

Eddie was lost in thought when you approached him with the next one. "When I went to get a book last week they had this little tree covered in book-related ornaments, and I saw this and I gasped so hard the lady behind me asked me if I was alright."

Eddie laughed, throwing his head back, and you took the opportunity to hang the ornament off of the tip of your finger to show him. He looked down, only to see a small painted ornament that looked like a book. It was The Hobbit.

"Baby." You were the one grinning like an idiot now. That one earned you a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Isn’t it cool?” You asked, pointing out that the text was raised and everything, that the spine even had ridges.

“It’s so cool.” He spun around to walk the few feet into the kitchen. “Wayne, would you look at this?”

Eddie’s uncle did as requested, smiling at your gesture. “That is very cool, Eds. Looks better than the copy you’ve got.”

“It totally does!” The boy wasn’t even slightly offended.

Eddie marched over to the tree, nestling the ornament amongst the others, along with his Black Sabbath one.

He turned to you, taking your face in his hands.“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m gonna be so annoying about those now.”

“I know. I prepared myself on the way here.” The smile he gave you was brilliant, and there was no other way to describe it.

————

The three of you spent a good portion of Christmas Eve making cookies: gingerbread, snickerdoodles, shitty sugar ones with sad icing jobs. Though, you did make sure to get most of it done early so there was time to chill.

You watched loads of movies. How the Grinch Stole Christmas had been on that morning, and Eddie extravagantly performed “You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch” for you, poking at your sides to get you to smile.

Eddie rented Die Hard for you, just because he knew you had the hots for Alan Rickman. He slipped it in the VHS slot, only for Wayne to say, “This the one with her pretty boy in it?”

Eddie practically cackled as you sunk into the couch more than he thought possible.

“He’s not a boy,” you argued. “He’s a total man, thank you very much.”

You watched Gremlins, and Eddie laid his head in your lap. You missed the way Wayne looked over at the two of you, in awe of how lucky he was that his boy had found someone so good. He thought about how happy he was to have this little family.

Wayne picked up food from Benny’s, not wanting to have to cook two nights in a row.

At the end of the night, Eddie finished off his first pile of rentals with Silent Night, Deadly Night. You didn’t mind, not with how excited he was about it. You loved a good slasher anyhow.

It was well past midnight when the film was over, and you cleaned up the popcorn mess while Eddie rinsed cans out for the recycling before the both of you slipped away to allow Wayne some rest before the big day.

Eddie had been in the bathroom while you went into his room to get changed. You slipped out of your pajama bottoms, opting for no pants at all considering Eddie was like a human furnace.

You heard the door click shut behind you as you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your back bare to him. Eddie wolf-whistled.

You through the shirt at him, aiming for his face, only for him to catch it instead. “Usually it’s dinner and a show, not bedtime and a show, but I’ll take it, hot stuff.”

“Shut the fuck up, Munson.” Eddie giggled to himself as he stopped you from putting on your own shirt, reaching for one of his own. He pulled out his worn in Master of Reality t-shirt.

“Seems appropriate, don’t you think?” He slipped the fabric over your head. “Stick your arm through—there you go.” Once settled, he kissed you sweetly before giving you a light slap on the ass as you climbed into bed.

“C’mon now pretty boy, let’s see my bedtime show.”

Eddie shimmed out of his sweats for you, stepping out of them with a flourish. You giggled at his underwear, which had little Santa hats on them.

“Don’t laugh, they’re comfortable!” He took off his shirt and you made grabby hands at him.

You sat up on your knees to kiss his spider tattoo and then the demon, making sure to hit them all. You made him spin to get the newer one on the small of his back: very sexy bat wings.

Eddie crawled into bed with you, switching his lamp off. “Now, look, I know I’m insatiable, and you’d probably love to stay up all night kissing me, and sweet-talking me, but we gotta get to sleep if we want Santa to come.”

He tickled his fingers up your arm when you stared to laugh, burying your face in his chest.

“Eddie, my love, you haven’t got a chimney.”

He scoffed, fighting a laugh. “You doubt Santa’s abilities to get me my presents though I lack the typical vessel? He has his ways, baby. Damn.”

Eddie reached for your thigh, grabbing hold and swinging it over both of his before kneading at the squish of it. He patted it fondly before he kissed your forehead.

“Merry Christmas, you little shit,” you said. “I love you.”

Eddie snickered. “Goodnight, pain in my ass. I love you more.”

The holiday season had officially climbed right back up to being one of Eddie Munson’s favorite things. He thought, laying there beside you that night, that you and Wayne were the best people in the world.

It felt like all the shitty Christmases had been leading up to this fucking excellent one, and he was over the moon.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[napakmahal]

hiro x male reader...... I JSUT WANT MORE BOYKSISER HIRO FIC, THERES SO LITTLE OF THEM. /lh

heres an idea: roller rink date. go wild

“What size shoe do you wear?” You leaned over the counter to look at all the different skate sizes with your hand readily holding onto your wallet.

“A seven.” Hiro said tightly, trying to hide how excited he actually was. Having a boyfriend was cool, but having one that could drive AND pay for stuff on his own was even cooler. You paid the guy a twenty to rent both pairs for an hour and a half.

The actual rink was dark with colorful lights dancing around it and dull pop song remix’s playing in the background. Groups of friends blocking the flow of traffic to take pictures, others holding onto the wall for dear life, and smaller kids using the walkers to help them skate. When you suggested you go skating Hiro was a bit nervous. He didn’t skate, like at all. During winter at the San Fransokyo center ice skating rink he and his aunt were the ones grabbing onto the wall and yanking each other down.

But you wanted to go skating, and Hiro was desperate to at least try and like everything you liked.

When you two stood up, Hiro’s lack of ability to skate was really coming through. Sure it was easier than ice skating because it had four wheels but he still struggled.

His eyebrows furrowed with slight frustration. How the hell did Gogo do this?

You turned to see your boyfriend struggling to even make it off the carpeted floor and onto the actual rink. Before he could fall backwards you grabbed onto his hand and squeezed it. “Do you…know how to skate?”

Hiro laughed nervously. “I mean not completely.”

You laughed in the addicting way that made Hiro feel like his brain was melting down his spine. You laced your arm through your boyfriends and slowly skated with him. “ Okay, slow. We’ll start slow.”

Skating like he was a baby who needed to learn how to walk felt a little awkward but he liked how close he was to you. While skating you passed by another couple doing the exact same thing. Except he had his free hand in her back pocket. You two were already dating yet it felt like he was still doing everything he possibly could to try and impress you. He unhooked his arm from yours and carefully slid it into your back pocket.

“You tryn’ to feel me up, Hamada?” You raised your eyebrows, kinda shocked at his boldness. Hiro was loud and a force to be reckoned with, but you knew he was also incredibly shy.

His face filled with panic, “Oh, I-I’m sorry. Is-is that–like– bad?”

You laughed again. For a second Hiro was afraid you were laughing at him and technically you were. But not for the same reasons as he thought. You pulled him over to the wall of the rink and pressed a semi-aggressive kiss to the center of his forehead.

Hiro’s face scrunched and a big smile was plastered across his face as you squished his face in your hands. When you removed your lips from his forehead, you swooped down and pressed an equally as aggressive kiss to his lips.

Hiro thought his spinal fluid was leaking. You two have kissed before but he got the same feeling from it as he did every other time. Surreal and almost like those first kiss reactions you see in those enemies to lovers movies. When the guy kisses the girl mid argument and she has a look of pure stun on her face.

You laced your fingers through his and pulled him away from the wall so you could continue skating. “You coming or not?”

“Y-yeah, I’m coming.” He snapped out of it and did his best to skate back up to your side when he felt you put your hand in his back pocket.

[tinydeskwriter]

CINEMA {Chapter I}

A/n: Someone wrote a lovely comment describing y/n and harry as “ ex lovers with unconditional love that never truly go out of style trope” which is now my very favorite way to describe it, unfortunately, my careless self deleted the comment while trying to delete my own reply—because I post it without being finished (tumblr doing me dirty)— so I dedicate this to her/him/they (?), thank you for the amazing comment.

Thank you to everyone that replied to my desperate need of help to choose Y/n ‘s ex-boyfriend…

I honestly hope not to disappoint you guys with this first chapter, I just wanted to give a first glimpse of Harry and Y/n’s ‘friendship’ dynamic. Also, it’s almost Harry’s birthday!!

Cinema | Previous Part 1.Boyfriends

Harry holds the door open with one hand, as he hold a cup carrier with four coffee drinks in the other—Luis is arriving soon, and Rebekah must already be somewhere in the house with Y/n—, he doesn’t know most of the people passing by him, from the group of fifteen+ he recognizes Chrystal, Y/n lawyer—who in more than one occasion back when they’re dating, managed to get out of circulation invasive paparazzi shots of the young couple—and Monica, her publicist since 2012, Rebekah was right behind them, escorting them all to the door.

Rebekah is their age, pixie hair, New York accent, always in flowy blouses and high waist jeans, Y/n’s PA, friend and confidante.

“Good morning H, I am going to take this, thank you.” The woman took her usual order and went back inside, turning back a few steps in, “She’s in the music room.”

“Thank you Bekah.” He said closing the door behind himself and taking the opposite direction from the PA.

The music room was one of Y/n favorite places in her house, a large space with two walls made of glass overlooking the pool, with a view of the city and the park. It’s where she keeps her prized Concert Grand Piano in custom Sycamore wood adorned with a gold leaf mural of London’s skyline around the entire case of the piano, a twenty-first birthday gift by Harry—which her boyfriend at the time saw as competition and got her a 61’ Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II in an auction. 

Y/n’s enviable guitar and vinyl collections occupied the two inner walls, the only sitting furniture in the room—other than the piano bench—was the Bellini U-shaped couch from the 70’s in burnt orange velvet and Gucci throw pillows. The piece de resistance was the Brionvega RR126 Y/n inherited from her grandfather.

He found her laying in the couch reading what seemed to be a script.

She looked completely fine for someone who just sold 50% of what she called ‘her first born’, Harry was honestly expected a little bit of nostalgia or melancholia from his little love.

“Got you coffee.” He put the cup in her hand and kissed the top of her head as a greeting before sitting down next to her, his own coffee in hand.

Y/n hadn’t even took her eyes out of the pages.  

“How are you feeling?”The question finally made her put the script down on her lap, and sip her coffee before looking at him.

“I feel like I just sold half of my soul to the devil for $500million dollars.” She said deadpanned. 

Harry looked at her with furrowed brows. 

“So why sell?” He asked slightly confused.

Y/n had started Muse unpretentiously, her goal was simply to offer to the costumers something that lacked in the market: an all-inclusive, vegan, high quality and affordable priced make-up and skincare line. Muse became a beauty empire that included even daily/basic lingerie and loungewear in 69 sizes and 15 nude colors—going by Y/n’s philosophy that basic doesn’t need to be ugly, ‘nude tones’ meant different shades from beige and pretty stuff should fit everyone. 

It was her passion project. 

“I don’t have the hours in a day for everything I need to do, and I want to have a life, I want to be able to dedicate myself to relationships.” She said honestly. “LVMH is the same parent company that owns half of Fenty Beauty, they are the only ones that agreed to my terms, I get creative control and veto vote, the company philosophy stays the same, I am getting a female CEO of my choice, and Muse gets global distribution, we’re going to be available at Sephora, Harvey Nichols, Boots, Ulta at a even more affordable price.”

Harry nodded. She has handing over some control of her company to have more control of her life. It was almost poetic in a sense.

“And what is this about?”the 'Adore You' crooner points to the script on the youngest's lap, he knew her well enough to know when he need to change the subject.

“Robert Eggers’ new project...but first...”She stops, looking seriously at Harry, “how was it with Olivia?”

Harry and Olivia had agreed to meet that morning to discuss their relationship.

Olivia apparently felt that tempers had run out, and that everything had been left very much up in the air.  

Y/n didn't even know what was going on between the two until her former director called Harry the night before while they were getting ready for dinner, and even then she had only managed to get Harry out of the fact that they had had a fight before he came to her aid.

She had a suspicion there was trouble in paradise after Harry spent the third night in a row sharing a bed with her without his girlfriend's interference.

The man sigh, close his eyes and rest his head against the back of the couch.

“Was it that bad?” Y/n watches Harry closely.

Y/n honestly didn't like Olivia, and it wasn't even because the older one was dating Harry—which she personally found unethical and unprofessional, the kind of thing that causes a stain in someone’s career, specially with the whole scandal surrounding it.

The former Angel could write an entire essay about all her reasons to dislike Olivia Wilde, but in short it would resume to Olivia was simply an amalgamation of the kind of person Y/n looked down on in the industry: ambitious personality, fake character, and acting according to convenience.

She would never mistreat the woman or say a word against her in front of Harry, but that didn't mean she approved of their romance. 

And Y/n knew Olivia didn't like her either, she could see it in the older woman's catlike eyes, her years in the fashion industry made her perceptive of those kind of things. 

Olivia tolerated her for Harry, and had unwillingly offered the role of Violet to her under pressure from Warner Executives who saw Y/n as yet another money grab for the film—like Harry, she had a fanbase and more Instagram followers than the entire cast put together—and which she only accepted at Florence and Harry's request.

“We talked, we agreed that after our fight it's best to take some time off from each other, I have the tour, she still has to sort it out with Jason regarding the kids, we'll keep in touch, but we'll have a more definitive conversation when this leg of the tour is over to know where we stand.” He told her everything in one breath.

“And how do you feel about that?” The woman take a sip of her coffee.

Harry sighs again, running his hands through his hair in an anxious gesture

“I honestly don't know.” He confess. “I care about Olivia…”

“But you don’t love her…”Y/n completed. “That’s tough.” She nodded. “Do you think it’s a matter of time? Like, you can come to love her?”

“Yeah, sure…”He don’t look so sure. “Olivia is cool, she’s so intelligent and eloquent…” Y/n wide her eyes a little, condescending and pretentious fit Olivia better in her opinion. “If I am honest, our relationship hasn’t been a thought in my head for three days, this kinda of says something…”

“This actually screams something.” She said against her coffee, only to get a disapproving look from Harry. “H, you mistook the excitement of the honeymoon phase for something else and you stepped heavy footed into the relationship, I mean you moved her in three months after you guys started to date, we all told you it was too soon…”

“She needed a place to stay, things with Jason were though.” Harry defended his actions.

“And why is that?” The question was rhetorical, followed by a humorless laugh. “H, I love you, but you’re too good for this world.”

Harry looks at her with his brow frown. “Why?”

“My Love, everyone knows she broke up with Jason after you guys blurred the line, Florence told me that Jason and her acted pretty couple-ish the times he took the kids to visit, and that only changed after you started to spend too much time in her trailer.” Y/n told him what her and the girls had debated so many times before in their slumber parties over copious amounts of tequila. “Even Gemma agrees, and she’s like completely against talking about peoples life.”

The man stayed silent for a moment, absorbing what he had heard.

There was only one thing he wanted to know after hearing her thoughts.

“You never said anything against the relationship before.” It wasn’t even a question

“Because I want you happy, and you seemed happy with Olivia, that’s all I care about, it doesn’t matter if I don’t like the woman,” she answers with honesty. “I would never criticize your taste in women, the same way you never criticized my bad choices in men.” She jokes to lighten the mood.

Harry chuckles, eyes closing and dimples showing. 

The musician stopped criticizing Y/n’s boyfriends after the second time she got back with Abel after he got together with Selena while they’re on a break—he did wrote her na album as na apology. He kept quiet about Charlie—needy, jealous Charlie—, and bit his tongue with Jack—flirting, handsome Jack, even Harry would have to admit the younger man knew how to be charming—.

He liked Jack less than he liked Abel.

And he had despised Abel because they got together not long after their break up, and Harry was still hung up on her, regretting his decision to end their relationship. But it was too late, Abel swapped her off her foot the minute their break-up was announced, taking her on a first date in Dubai just months later, the beginning of their whirlwind, world wide romance that just ended for good in 2019.   

Jack, Harry hated him because he seemed less invested in the relationship than Y/n. He showered her with flowers and gifts and pretty words, but he was always away and it was always Y/n traveling to him. His Little Lovie was a woman in love with love, she always invested herself in the relationships, and was always heartbroken when things didn’t worked out in the end.

They were interrupted by Rebekah holding a lovely flower arrangement in her hands and an apologetic expression on her face. “Y/n…” 

The actress turned to where her PA stood in the doorway, the young woman rolled her expressive eyes at the peonies, ranunculus and carnations bouquet. 

“Beks…” Y/n sigh. “Just put it in the guest house, will you? Please.” She asked, and the held up her hand, stopping Bekah from leaving the room. “On second thought, it would be sad to let all those beautiful flowers go to waste, see if you can get a van to transport them all to the nearest nursing home.”

The assistant nodded and was already turning to leave the room and start to making calls when this time it was Harry who stopped her.

“Call Jeff, we have a van to transport instruments that you guys can use.”The musician offers.

“Thank you, H.”The young woman said honestly, with a bit of relief showing in her face.

The former couple turned best friends watch her leave the room before going back to their conversation. 

“Is he still sending you flowers?” He points to where Bekah disappeared with the flowers. 

Y/n just rolls her eyes. “I feel like I can open my own flower shop.” She takes another sip of her coffee. “He’s still blowing my phone.”

“Are you going to talk to him?” Harry takes a sip of his coffee, watching her closely.

“NO!”She says categorically. “I played this back and forth game with Abel, I am not doing it again with Jack.” She sighs. “But I still have to see him at least at the VMA’s, I can’t pull back at the last minute.”

“Shit, I had completely forgot about that.” Sometimes he forgot that she was what the industry called a triple threat: she acts, she dances and she sings, she had already used her voice in three movies. 

With her always dating musicians, it was actually an impressive feat that none before Jack had put her vocals on a track—Harry did, but they aren’t dating at the time he recorded her for TPWK. 

No one ever thought that ‘Into Your Arms’ would blow up the way it did, it was a romantic—that in some ways reflected Y/n and Jack’s relationship at the time—song, and Tik-Tok and Instagram Reels made it a huge sensation.

“Yeah, we have to perform it on the 11th.” She honestly wished there was a shot of vodka in her coffee. “Let’s talk about nice things now, My Love.” She lifts the nearly forgotten script from her lap pushing it towards him. “I need you to do this with me."

{next part}

Taglist: @slutforcoffein ; @lilsiz ; @pandxthings ;

@ameerakane20 ; @angywritesstuff

[bluestar22x]

Mr. Henley

The Rockford Files - Mr. Henley

Summary: A rich man is murdered and you and Tim must figure out which of his family members poisoned him.

Pairing: Tim Rockford x F!Reader (both in their mid/late 40s)

Rating: 18+ Series

Word Count: 13,800 (ish)

Warnings: Smut (w/no protection), violence, a very angry ghost, inaccurate detective work, medical examiner gore, fictionally speedy DNA results, and a mention of euthanizing a pet (cat).

Author's Note: This part was a long time coming - I almost didn't finish it in October. Ack! But it was worth it. I think I'm happy with the results. This has some inspiration from the Merge Mansion ads. I'm not sorry. Also, it seems 2nd parts are for smut in my little writing world. I have a pattern. ha

xxx

October 10, 1996 (Thursday)

You felt like you were being driven straight into a horror movie setting. An early morning fog encroaching on the long, deserted winding road that led to a Victorian styled gate with golden decals. Tim stopped his car at the front and you noted the number twenty-six that was painted onto one of the stone walls the gate was attached to. You were at the right address. You just weren't sure that you wanted to be.

Tim slid out of the driver's side, leaving his door open as he approached the gate with the key he'd been handed earlier by Chief Bronson, opening it up and letting the gate swing widely inward on its own.

When he climbed back into the car you began tapping your fingers on your knees, unsure of what you’d soon be walking into.

It didn't take long for the sparsely colorful forest surrounding the driveway to clear into a neatly maintained lawn lined with pink rosebushes, spread out before a massive white mansion that looked as old as the gate, although they likely hadn't been built earlier than a half a century ago.

Rich people, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at the obvious choice the owners had made to flaunt their money. Nobody in American history who had owned such a home had ever actually needed over thirty rooms to themselves. Most people who'd had twenty plus children couldn't afford a mansion.

"We have an hour before we have to be back at the department to question the family," Tim reminded you after parking the car, as if you needed to be.

You just nodded at him. A year ago you would've rolled your eyes, thinking he was being impatient, trying to rush you, but you'd learned with time he just worried about being late. He was a reliable person. If he could help it, he was always on time. You couldn't say the same, and you'd butted heads with him more than once over it, but eventually you'd both decided it wasn't worth it.

He fixed the position of the dark rimmed glasses that rested over the bridge of his nose (a recent addition to his attire, much to his dismay) and followed you as you strolled up the marble steps leading to the heavy looking white front door. After he used another key to unlock it you shoved the door open and stepped inside.

You didn't know enough about mansions and fancy furniture, but you knew enough to know that everything inside was mind boggling expensive. The trims were definitely made from real gold. The living room was the size of your whole apartment.

And everything was spotless - except for the dining room you headed straight for like a woman on a mission. Even though it was just you and Tim in the house, at the moment, you didn't want to give the mansion's owner the satisfaction of you having gawked at the place.

The only sign something had gone wrong in the dining room was the yellow tape and the bowl of cereal that was still, disgustingly, out on the glass table, half full of soaked flakes and rotting milk. The stench made you block your nose.

At least the body had already been picked up by Joe while the rest of the Forensics team had scoured the mansion. And the man had been found fairly quickly after his death, so the room didn't also smell like rotting flesh. You always tried to look at the bright side of things.

"I see Elliot Henley was a Frosted Flakes kind of guy," you observed humorously. "It's kind of comforting that corn flakes could potentially unite the rich and poor."

Tim snorted quietly at that, amusement sparking in his normally serious eyes. You beamed back at him. You'd taken a liking to trying to make him laugh with you rather than at your expense, like it had been at first. You were getting better at it.

"You getting any vibes, Psy?"

Where once that nickname had been at your expense, it had long since turned friendly, and in turn, you'd grown fond of it. Only from him though.

"Nothing yet," you replied with a sigh, "I'm not even creeped out by the knowledge that a dead man was sitting at this table at eight o'clock last night, face planted right on the table alongside this very bowl."

Tim arched his eyebrows, surprised. "That once bothered you?"

"It still bothers me often enough," you admitted. "I got this job because of my gift, not because of my tolerance for being around dead bodies. You?"

He shrugged. "It got better with time. It's rare a case really shakes me up."

You know exactly what kind of case shakes him up after Annie. Anything with kids. For most people in your field of work, that was the line, but it was especially true for him.

You hadn't asked Tim about his sister. You didn't need to. Helen had given you more than enough information and it wasn't your business. He was your partner, a friend, you might even dare say, but your relationship was very professional and that meant you didn't get to be nosy.

"I'm going to take a walk through the whole place, alone," you decided, "Just in case he's shy. But it's quite possible Elliot's already moved on. Even if our suspicions turn out right, that he didn't just die of a stroke or heart attack, that doesn't mean he'd linger. You know how it goes."

Tim gave you a quick nod. After working over two dozen cases with you he did know enough of how things worked, or at least how you believed things worked, since you'd yet to convince him your mind wasn't conjuring up these spirits.

Stubborn man.

He left to stand by the main entrance while you wandered room to room, trying to keep your mind focused solely on your surroundings, without paying too much attention to how absurdly "classy" everything was.

You walked the east wing first, finding Elliot's mother's room at the far end. Everything was so white it was near blinding. It felt too clean. Unlived in, except for the hairbrush with silver hair intertwined in the bristles that lay on the desk in the corner of the room next to a big bay window.

You wondered if the room had always been this way or if it had only become so sterile after her husband had died.

You concluded that it probably had always been that way when you searched the west wing and found Elliot's room to be in a similar shape, and the same for his older brother's.

Like many rich kids who hadn't worked a day of their youth away because of their parents' wealth, Elliot and Richard Henley had stuck around after they graduated high school, even into their late thirties.

It was interesting to you that Hazel, their mother, had them stay in a separate wing. For privacy or because she couldn't stand them? Either option was likely. Maybe it was for both reasons.

It took you a half hour to thoroughly check each room and give time for any presence to make themselves known, but none did, and with a long sigh you headed down the hall to return to Tim's side.

He was leaning against the door, arms folded, clearly trying to be patient, but still appearing annoyed. When he spotted you moving towards him he grunted. "Took you long enough."

"There's a lot of rooms," you said defensively.

He dropped his arms to his sides. "Please tell me you at least got something."

You shook your head apologetically and he groaned. "Great. So, this was a bust."

"Mostly, yeah," you agreed. "But I did find out that Hazel sleeps as far away from her sons' rooms as possible."

"They probably partied late into the night," Tim guessed.

It was as good of a guess as yours, but for some reason your intuition was screaming at you that there was something more to it, and in your experience it was wise not to ignore it. You'd definitely have some questions to ask the family when you got back to the police department.

Tim gestured to the door and you both stepped outside together, back onto the porch. As he locked the door again, a gust of wind ripped through the sheltered area and you shivered. It could have been just from the cold weather, but normal wind didn't usually make your skin crawl.

You glanced around warily and Tim noticed. His eyes filled with concern at your discomfort. "You sense something now?"

"That gust didn't feel right," you informed him, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth and a sense of security. "Too cold for the season." You snuggled your nose into the wool jacket you were wearing.

His eyebrows furrowed at that. "What does that mean to you?"

"If Elliot's spirit caused that sudden gust of wind," you hesitated, not wanting it to be so, "Which I'm almost certain of, he's furious at something. Probably someone. Not necessarily who killed him. I've had several cases where the spirit was upset about something that happened right before they were murdered, since sometimes they aren't aware enough to remember what happened to them." You bit your lip. "Angry spirits aren't discriminatory. They want to lash out, get revenge, and it doesn't matter who's on the other end of their fury, as long as they are affected. Not everyone is, but sensitives like me are."

"You've been hurt by spirits before?" The lines between Tim's brows deepened. You wondered how much of it was from disbelief and how much was from genuine concern, but the fact there was concern at all was nice.

"No, I haven't had a spirit hurt me physically," you answered. "But they're great at causing nightmares and I had one purposely spook me into stumbling backwards. I was at the top of a flight of stairs."

You could've sworn a flicker of fear flashed in his eyes in reaction to what you'd disclosed, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. "Let's get you out of here then."

You didn't need to be told twice.

x

The first stop you and Rockford made after returning to the department was the Forensics Division to check for updates. You sought out Joe, finding him in the basement examining Elliot's body.

It was your first time seeing Mr. Henley outside the few family photos that had been scattered about in the mansion, and it was unsettling. It wasn't the first time you'd walked in on an autopsy, but it was the first time you'd seen a brain outside a body, in the gloved hands of the medical examiner. Your stomach did a little flip at the sight, and you tried to keep your eyes from directly looking at it and Elliot's open skull after.

"Got anything for us, Joe?" Tim inquired.

The rail thin man continued his study of Elliot's brain while he spoke. "I've got enough. Elliot here had a cardiac event. Some of his heart valves are damaged. But it wasn't natural. And my conclusion has nothing to do with him being thirty-five. Look at this."

Joe placed Elliot's brain back into his head and pointed out some dark pigmentation scattered on his skin and under his nails. "Hyperpigmentation." He pulled out a kidney that was sliced in half. Even for one that belonged to a deceased person it didn't look too healthy. "Renal damage. Any guesses as to what happened to him?"

You frowned as you pondered over it. A lot of things could cause these symptoms. But there were few that would make Joe behave this way. "Poison," you said in unison with Tim. You both glanced at each other. "Jinx," you declared, chuckling. He grunted.

"Arsenic to be exact," Joe told you, theatrically gesturing to his desktop computer in the corner of the room. "The blood results were positive for it. The hair samples are still being studied to figure out when the poisoning began, but by the evidence it seems it has been a long while."

"Arsenic is natural though," Tim pointed out. "He could have ingested too much of it by mistake through drinking water or food."

"Ah." Joe nodded. "Yes. But a very high dose was in the milk sample we took from his bowl this morning. That's not typical of pasteurized, grade A milk. Guessing he wasn't dying fast enough for whoever was adding it to his diet so they threw caution to the wind. Funny enough though, the high dose wasn't in him long enough to be the reason his heart failed. That was from the previous attempts stacking up."

"Please tell me someone's on their way to pick up that bowl before someone else gets dosed by accident," you said, though you were certain no one would dare eat from that disgusting bowl.

"Katie's on her way to rectify our mistake of leaving it behind," Joe assured you.

"Do you know if he sought out any medical attention?" Tim asked.

"I called the local hospital," Joe stated, "His primary care doctor works there, but hasn't seen him in two years and he hasn't shown up in the Emergency Room ever. I have no doubt he was suffering for weeks from this, but for whatever reason he never went to the hospital. Maybe he had nosocomephobia?" He shrugged.

"What's that?" you questioned, squinting at him in confusion.

"It's an intense fear of going to the hospital," Tim informed you. "My great tia Lucia had that phobia. She broke a hip one time, fully separated it. Despite the pain, she insisted it couldn't be broken even as she tried and failed to stand over and over. My grandmother was with her at the time."

"That's awful," you remarked, mouth agape. You'd never broken anything before, but you knew hip fractures were one of the worst breaks a person could have. She should have been seized up with pain.

"Fear is pain's greatest competitor," Joe told you solemnly.

Tim tilted his head in his direction.

"So, who do we think did it?" you quizzed. "It must be someone in the family, right?"

"Usually is," Tim replied. "Hazel would be most likely."

"Isn't their mother like eighty?"

"Seventy-eight," Tim corrected you. "And it doesn't take a body builder to kill someone by poison. You should know murderers come in all shapes and sizes and ages."

"Of course." And it wouldn't be the first time you'd helped investigate a murder where the mother killed their child.

"Anything else?" Tim asked Joe.

Joe shook his head. "I'll let you know if there's anything else useful to you as the results come in."

"Time for the interrogations then," you figured.

Tim was already halfway out the door.

x

Upon your arrival at the Homicide Division, Pete Woodward, a young, eager homicide detective-in-training approached you and Tim. Practically flew at you, really. "We've got Hazel and Richard Henley in separate interrogation rooms, ready to talk with you, Rockford. Victim's sisters will be in at noon."

Having lived in the same home, being family, Hazel and Richard were the priority to talk to. They'd been brought in as soon as the investigation had begun, though not officially arrested since there wasn't any solid proof either one of them had motive to kill Elliot yet.

You followed Tim into the first room finding Richard standing inside in a corner, looking bored out of your mind. You wouldn't have expected that from a man that had just lost his brother. Maybe suspect number two was actually the murderer?

"You want to take a seat Mr. Henley?" Tim inquired, gesturing at the gray chair across from yours and his as you both sat down.

"Call me Dick," Richard told him, plopping down on it.

"Really?" You couldn't help the slipped comment. You just didn't understand why anyone would be willing to take on that nickname, especially as a rich person. Did he not notice the possible implications of using it?

Richard either didn't hear you or didn't care; either way he paid you no attention. Tim's eyes however did dart to you for a second before he cleared his throat. "This conversation is going to be recorded, Dick. Is that alright?"

"Whatever you must do, detective. I've got nothing to hide."

Tim pressed record on the voice recorder to his left. "What can you tell us about your brother?"

Richard snorted. "Besides him being a hopeless lazy leech?"

"Aren't you also living with your mother?" you countered.

"I work," Richard informed you defensively, "I only moved back in because I recently got divorced and my new home hasn't been finished yet."

"Uh huh." You'd barely started talking with him and you were already starting to lean more towards him as Elliot's killer than their mother. He had clearly held disdain for his younger brother. That was a pretty good motive.

"Did your brother have any enemies?" Tim questioned.

Richard shrugged. "None that I know of, except his own damn self. He was a loner, mostly. Spent a lot of time online playing games."

"Do we dare ask you how he was with your family, with you?" you inquired.

He chuckled and leaned back. "He was Dad's favorite when he was alive, for some damn reason. Mom loves him out of duty. Our sisters and him get along fine but they don't hang out."

"And you and him?"

"I don't like him not putting in any effort to make his own life," Richard told you, eyes narrowing, "But I wasn't upset enough over it to kill him, if that's what you're wondering."

"We have to consider every possibility," Tim explained to him. "Murders often are committed by those closest to the victim."

"So it is murder?" Richard asked, pursing his lips. "You sound certain."

"We've got evidence that suggests Elliot was slowly poisoned with Arsenic," Tim replied, "Found some in his bowl of cereal."

Richard's eyes widened. "Shit."

"Who normally fed him his meals?" you prompted.

He frowned. "He usually made his own cereal whenever he chose to eat later at night."

"Was he the only one in the house who drank two percent milk?"

His jaw slacked a little. "Yes. Mom and I drink whole milk. You think maybe whoever did this poisoned the whole bottle?"

"I only just considered it now," you admitted. Your eyes flicked to Tim. "Looks like Katie's going to have to bring the jug in now too."

"I'll call her," he said, standing up as he dialed Katie's number and leaning against the wall as he explained to her that she needed to go back to the mansion a third time in less than half a day.

Poor Katie, you thought.

"Who besides you and your mother have access to the fridge on a regular basis?" you pressed.

"The cook, maid, the gardener, the whole family," Richard listed. "None of them have motive to do it."

"That's for us to decide," you told him as Tim sat back down.

Richard turned to him. "Anything else you want to know?"

"Plenty," he said, lifting his eyes to meet Richard's. "Where were you this morning?"

x

It was nearly a half hour later when Tim finished with Richard, letting him go with a warning to not skip town. You were ready to feel that twist in your stomach, your gut instinct, to tell you letting him go was a mistake, but you didn't get it. As much as you'd thought Richard's attitude towards his brother was bordering hate you didn't get murder vibes from him. His nickname suited him well, but being a dick didn't automatically make someone a killer.

The interrogation with Hazel, their frail appearing seventy-eight-year-old mother who looked every bit like the grandmother to four she was, went similarly to the one with Richard. Although Hazel did not share the anger Richard had towards Elliot, she wasn't shedding any tears either. It was so odd to you. You'd had a shaky relationship with your mother before she passed, but you still had felt the loss after she died. You'd still sobbed when she was laid to rest in the cemetery of your hometown. You'd heard of people being numb at first to loss, like they were in some kind of daze, but you doubted that was it.

You started to truly understand for the first time what kind of people tended to find themselves leading successful businesses. You didn't like what you saw.

"Mrs. Henley, did you hate your son?" you inquired boldly.

Her eyes grew wide. "Of course not. I wouldn't have let him stay home if I did. To most he was lazy, but he helped me around the property. Spent time in the garden with me every afternoon. Adopting him was the best decision I ever made."

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes you and Tim had been talking with her there was sadness in her eyes.

Maybe she isn't a psychopath after all, you mused.

"You adopted Elliot?" Tim prompted.

Hazel nodded. "We knew his biological mother. When she died, we decided to take him in, treat him as our own. It's what friends do."

"So kind of you," you said, trying to sound sincere. You couldn't help but think that there was something more; that there was no way this lady had adopted a child out of the goodness of her heart. Adopting him had probably come with tax breaks or something like that.

Elliot and Richard's older sisters, Heidi and Jeanine, who were both in their forties, blonde, and mothers to two children each, all in their teens, weren't much better than Hazel and Richard, clearly not much more than spoiled trophy wives to their rich husbands.

"Maybe Elliot poisoned himself," Heidi suggested, "He didn’t have a lot going for him, you know? I loved him, but he was always the mess up of the family. It had to have eaten at him."

"My brother was kind, but didn't make anything of himself," Jeanine said later during the interview with her. "I'd think him committing suicide makes more sense than murder. None of my family are capable of that."

The linear ceiling light above started blinking furiously above the three of you and you felt the air get thick with tension that was cutting knife worthy. Anger. Your breathing picked up to compensate for the lack of oxygen getting to your lungs. You shivered as a draft hit the back of your neck. Out of habit your eyes darted to and fro, looking for danger but finding nothing visible.

You knew he was there though, watching, and he was trying to tell you his sisters' theories were way off. He definitely had not killed himself.

Tim and Jeanine clearly hadn't felt anything in the air change, surprised by the intense reaction you'd had to the lights flickering, but they had at least seen the lights go off. Once again Tim was studying you, expression trained. "You alright?"

"I'm okay," you answered, "Nothing new for me."

It was true it wasn't new, but it had still shaken you. Kind Elliot Henley seemed to have a lot of hate in his soul in the afterlife. You honestly couldn't blame him though. None of his family, even his sisters who were supposed to like him, had shed any tears in front of you and you were pretty sure shock couldn't account for any of it.

After the interviews were over, you and Tim headed to the office you shared.

"What a piece of work that family is," you muttered as he closed the door behind you. You turned on your heels to face him.

Tim nodded. "Sure is."

"I’m almost certain there's no way either Jeanine or Heidi murdered him though."

"Their alibis are too solid," he agreed. "And they sounded more like they pitied him than were angry at him."

"Exactly."

"We're still going to do a solid background check on them."

"Of course."

He sat down at his desk and you at the computer one, and you both got to work.

x

After thorough searching you and Tim uncovered that the Henley family were generally law-abiding citizens - except for a few speeding tickets (Richard) and a couple court cases for tax evasion by Hazel and her belated husband Roderick, one that had been proven and had ended with him being in prison for a few months. Not with the general population, of course. You'd bet his prison room had been private and clean. Safe.

Though the day had mostly been a bore, you still found yourself exhausted by the end of your twelve hour shift, not hesitating to turn down an invitation to eat out with the floor secretaries from Helen. All you wanted to do was make a sandwich, eat it, and go to bed, as much as you liked Helen.

And that's exactly what you did, not even taking time to read before bed like you typically did.

You startled awake just after midnight to a loud cracking sound. It sounded like one of your potted plants in the living room had been knocked down from one of the wall shelves and had broken when it hit the hardwood floor.

Back in your early thirties you'd taken in a smokey gray cat with stunning light green eyes named Blue that had been owned by a woman who had been murdered in a burglary gone wrong. He'd been a serial houseplant tipper. It had been almost guaranteed one of your houseplant pots would fall victim to him during the course of a week until you learned to tape the underneath of each one to the shelf beneath them.

In your sleep haze you figured he'd finally managed to knock one down, but after a few moments your mind caught up and you remembered that you'd had to give Blue’s vet permission to euthanize him over six years ago, his kidneys having failed at the ripe age of twenty.

Dread seized you, tightened your throat. Had someone broken in? Had you forgotten to lock the door? You were usually very careful about it, but you had been pretty tired.

You reached blindly under your bed for the handgun you kept there, locked away in a black box in the off chance you'd ever need it, and without switching on any lights loaded the chamber with a couple bullets before heading down the short hall with it, into the living room.

You turned the corner carefully, gun at the ready, finger curled right next to the trigger, but the room was clear, except for the spider plant and its pot that had shattered on the floor, spilling most of its dark gardening soil all over the surrounding floorboards.

You sucked in a deep breath and moved into the kitchen but no one was there either. There had to have been someone though. Unless there had been an earthquake, but one of that magnitude would've jostled you awake before the pot had fallen.

You felt it then. Him then. That eerie feeling of being watched by someone no longer quite human creeping under your skin, making you quake, as it often did.

Saying that you were alarmed would be an understatement. Bullets didn't harm spirits.

You slowly twisted around to find him there, looming smack in the middle of the start of your hallway, half hidden by the shadow of your fridge, barely seven feet from you. He was standing with a hunch in his back and an arm curled around his belly, a stance of someone with some kind of severe abdominal pain. His eyes did not hold any of that pain though. All you could see in them was rage.

It was the kind of expression that would make any sane person flee, especially since he wasn't a little guy, so that's what you did, bolting for your car keys on the table and then the front door.

Before you could make it out, as you were slipping through the doorway, you felt searing pain as something sharp dragged down your back, and you concluded in terror that he'd scratched you, all the while racing for your 1991 Taurus.

It wasn't until you'd already driven a mile out from your house that you were able to breath properly again. It was at that exact time the tears spilled from your eyes and everything that had happened during the previous ten minutes settled into your memory.

Elliot was severely pissed, feral. The worst kind of lost spirit. And it had taken him less than a day to get that way. It seemed that the kind man his family had described had hidden an inner darkness. Maybe he'd been successful in life at beating it down, but in death all bets were definitely off. You'd never known a spirit to lose control so fast, even those who had managed to attach themselves to their murderers.

And he'd clearly latched onto you, followed you home. It wasn't the first time a spirit had, but it was the first they could actually harm you to any degree by touch. You swallowed hard. You'd only temporarily escaped. He'd find you again. It would be instant if you returned home any time soon, so you drove around the city aimlessly for a couple hours, after hiding your gun in the glove compartment. You didn't have a concealed weapon permit, but you didn't think leaving it on the passenger seat was wise either if a patrol cop happened to pull you over.

It was past two when you found yourself rolling up into Tim's driveway, not sure where else to go. You knew where Helen lived too, but you did not want to chance dragging her into the mess you found yourself in. She was just a secretary. At least Tim had some training dealing with violent situations, not that it would help much in the face of a being he could not see, let alone hurt.

That was your reasoning at least as you studied the plain looking two-story house in front of you. It was encased in white painted wood where yours was in brick, but with the addition of that second floor it was bigger. Probably not much more expensive though. The house was old, aged by at least three decades where yours had been built less than a decade ago. The paint was also chipping, the outdoor upkeep of it clearly not a priority for him.

Despite the house looking prime for a haunting it called out to you, beckoning you inside, because the man who called it home was your most trusted friend and you knew his presence could at the bare minimum comfort you after the trauma you'd just been through.

You approached with the energy of a woman half your age, sprinting up the front porch steps and pounding on the oak door more demandingly than you had intended.

Tim swung it open a full minute later, in nothing but dark gray sweatpants, his heavy eyes peering out at you, his hair tussled from what had probably been a deep, satisfying sleep.

You'd have felt guilty for waking him if your heart hadn't nearly stopped at the sight of his bare, broad shoulders, defined upper arm muscles, and soft belly.

You'd admittingly dreamed of him more than once in the last year you'd known him, your subconscious mind not caring one bit that he was your partner, but your brain hadn't quite done him justice. You wondered in what other...areas your dreams failed him, but you refused to let your gaze drop below the beginnings of the happy trail on his lower stomach.

"Psy, what are you doing here?" he asked, eyes widening as soon as his brain registered who was standing in front of him.

"Can I please stay here tonight?" you pleaded hurriedly, afraid if you didn't get what you wanted to say out fast that you'd chicken out.

"What's going on?" he questioned, pursing his lips. There was worry in his eyes again. He stepped aside before you could answer, gesturing for you to enter his cozy home.

You did so gratefully and folded your arms self-consciously over your chest. It had just occurred to you that since you were in nothing but thin cotton long sleeved forest green pajamas that your breasts were well defined underneath, especially after standing outside in the chill of an autumn night for some time.

"Elliot's spirit followed me home," you informed him, rubbing your upper arms with your hands, attempting to warm them up. "He attacked me."

"Attacked you?" Tim sounded startled. You met his eyes and saw his concern deepen. He hadn't thought to say that it was impossible because it was all in your head. You wondered if he was finally starting to come around to the idea that spirits existed.

If he wasn't, he surely would after what you'd do next.

"He scratched me," you continued, voice shaky as you turned your back to him and curled the tips of your fingers around the hem of the back of your shirt. "How bad is it?"

You rolled it up as high as you thought the scratch went and heard Tim inhale sharply as you revealed it to him. You felt his rough yet gentle hands glide over yours as he lifted your shirt up just a little higher to take in the full damage.

"Elliot did this?" he growled, sounding outraged, a fierce anger in his tone that you had not been prepared for, typically a man who was subtle with all his emotions.

"How bad is it?" you repeated, wanting desperately to know.

"There's three long marks diagonally along the center of your back," he stated stiffly, attempting to rein in his upset. "They are about four inches in length, start to finish. Luckily they don't look too deep, but judging from the blood on your shirt, they did bleed for some amount of time."

You stepped away from him and dropped your shirt back into place before facing him again. "I wouldn't do that to myself."

"I know," he said firmly. You could tell from his tense expression alone that he believed you. "There's no way you could've reached back there to scratch yourself up like that. No normal human's nails could mark you that badly anyway.”

There was great relief from him finally accepting that spirits were real, especially that night. You desperately had needed him to believe it after having been shaken up so significantly. Your sight was blinded by tears again.

Tim reached out to squeeze your left shoulder supportively. "Does it hurt? Do you want to go to the hospital? I can drive you."

You shook your head, unable to prevent the smile that briefly adorned your face, remembering how'd he been with you when you first met. Oh how the times do change. "No, I just need a place to crash. Can I take your couch?"

"Better yet, you can take my spare bed," he replied, dropping his hand back to his side. "Follow me up. I'll show you to the room and get a fresh shirt and dressing for you. Going to need to clean those marks to make sure they don't get infected."

You nodded and trailed him as he climbed the stairs to the second floor without another word, flipping on lights as he went.

He entered the first room on the left and made his way in the dark to the nightstand to turn on the white lamp centered on its surface. The light emitted from it was dim, but good enough to use while cleaning your wound. Without a word Tim gestured for you to sit on the edge of the bed and strolled out of the room to collect the items he'd need to treat the scratches on your back.

He returned a few minutes later with scissors, gauze, medical tape, disinfectant, and an old plain black t-shirt in hand. He offered the shirt to you as soon as he was within your reach. You noted the charcoal gray t-shirt he'd slipped on while he was gone.

"I didn't think you owned anything besides black and white suits," you teased, trying to lighten the mood as you accepted it, folding the black shirt up on your lap until you could switch it out with your bloodied pajama one.

"We've never been around each other on our off days," he pointed out, a hint of a teasing tone in his voice. "I like to be comfortable just like anyone else."

For some reason it had been hard for you to imagine him in anything else but his work apparel. It was strange seeing him in casual clothes. Strange because it felt almost intimate. Like it was a part of his life you shouldn't have seen as his professional partner.

"Gonna sit behind you," he informed you quietly, gruffly. "Can you hold up the back of your shirt while I clean your wounds?"

You nodded, finding yourself tongue-tied, and couldn't help but note how much the mattress sank as he settled on it just outside of your peripheral vision. You could feel the front of one of his knees lightly brushing against your back after he was seated. You tried not to think about it as you lifted your shirt so he had easy access to the scratches.

"This is going to sting," he warned.

Nodding again, you tensed as he pressed a wet gauze to your upper back, hissing at the sting of the disinfectant he was using. It was the only painful thing about Tim tending to your wounds. His calloused hands occasionally brushed your sensitive, slightly inflamed skin, but they were as gentle as they could be. You found yourself trembling under his touch, and it wasn't because of the pain. With every feather light glance of his fingertips the desire you'd consistently tried to stomp out for months flared with newfound strength.

"Sorry," he apologized in the softest tone you'd ever heard him speak in. "Almost done."

You clutched at the mattress beneath you as he taped gauze to your upper back, trying to focus on that rather than his presence, grateful that your reactions were only coming off as ones of pain to him. He wasn't completely wrong.

“All done,” he finally announced, and you expected to be relieved when his hands pulled away from you, but instead you felt your hunger for him surge within you. You couldn’t keep still. You needed his hands back on you.

You twisted in place, dropping the shirt that had been on your lap, and crashed your lips into his desperately, hands splaying out on his chest as you prayed silently that he would respond, and respond he did, tugging you closer, curling a hand around the base of your neck, and licking into the heat of your mouth and you realized in that moment that he had desired you just as much.

When you both took a breath, he pulled his head back far enough to study your face, searching for anything in your expression that could tell him what more you wanted from him. He would only give as much as you asked for.

You answered his silent question with another searing kiss, your hands traveling to his back and up into his hair, ruffling it as you sought purchase. You pressed yourself closer to him and he embraced you, arms wrapping around your lower back, careful to avoid your bandaged wound.

It wasn’t long before you guided his hands to the edge of your shirt and he got your message instantly, easing your sleep shirt up off of you and chucking it to the floor.

The chill in the room had your bare nipples immediately hard, and he didn’t miss it, his thumbs tracing your stiff buds, blown dark eyes flickering between your breasts and face. “Okay?”

“Yes,” you whined. You lolled your head back and one of his hands left your chest to support your neck again as he leaned towards you to lave at your exposed neck. Your fingers slipped into his short, slightly wavy hair again as you hummed under his attentiveness. "So good."

You reached for the chord of his sweatpants to untie it, the back of your hand brushing against the hardening bulge behind it, and he groaned as he jerked away from you, as if it was painful to do so. “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to.”

“Where’d you get the idea I didn’t?” you chuckled. You definitely did not want to stop.

“I don’t have any condoms on hand,” he admitted after a few moments. “The last box I had expired.”

“Well, lucky for the both of us I’ve already gone through menopause,” you told him, kissing the corner of his mouth fondly, his moustache scrapping pleasantly against your lips. “And I’ve been just as focused on work as you have been the last few years or so.”

He caught onto your underlying meaning and tilted his head to catch your full mouth again as you loosened his pants, tugging them down as far as you could while still on the bed, revealing his black and white checkered boxers.

In a brief, humorous thought, you made a mental note to get him items of clothing that weren’t black, white, tan, or gray for his next birthday. The man needed more color in his life.

He didn’t notice the amusement on your face as he stood and kicked the pants the rest of the way off him, and when you laid back so he could remove your pants, it was gone. Nothing but want to invade your mind and your face.

Slowly but surely the last articles of clothing remaining on you both were added to the pile on the floor as your mouths and hands explored each other greedily. Once you were free, you knelt on the edge of the bed in front of him and reached out to hold the heft of him in your hands, stroking him confidently, spreading the precum leaking from his head up his entire length. Your firm, yet caressing touch had his knees buckling, and he groaned into your mouth as he braced himself against the bed with an arm, the other molded around your hips. You glanced up at his face briefly as you continued to pump him with your hands and the edges of your mouth lifted, taking delight in watching him watch you work him up with hooded eyes.

Once he was firm you shuffled back on the bed to make room for him to join you, mirroring your kneeling position. He reached down between your legs and you gasped as his fingers made contact with your clit, circling and tracing it until you were thrusting against his hand and him sliding two thick fingers inside you was enough to make you come, a warmth flooding your core as you lurched forward, panting against his chest, giving yourself time to enjoy the waves of ecstasy that followed. It had been quite some time since someone had made you feel that way.

When it was over you firmly pushed him back onto his palms and heels, a soft smile on your face. He raised his eyebrows slightly at you, wondering what you had in mind, but did not resist, curiosity winning out over any yearning he might have to be in control.

You had an idea of what you were doing, but most of it was instinct, wanting to be face to face with him without either of you being on your backs. You clung to his shoulders with your arms, lifting yourself up high enough to hover over him as you climbed onto his lap and folded your legs around his waist, lining your entrance up with his head before you let yourself slowly drop down on top of him.

He was thick, and it was a tight fit, but the foreplay had done its job, making you slick enough to take him deep. The drag of his cock inside you had him gritting his teeth the whole time you slid  him into you. He wound his strong arms around your lower back to brace you as you began to roll your hips against him and he joined in your rhythm, gliding in and out of you at a steady pace. Your faces stayed close, cheek to cheek, his beard prickling yours. You whimpered when he hit you particularly deep and he turned his head to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Okay?” he rasped between soft grunts.

You nodded vigorously, eyes snapped shut, breaths heavy. There were no other words spoken between you as you rocked together, letting your bodies and the sounds that slipped out of your mouths do the communicating.

It took you a little longer than it would’ve when you were younger, but when he found that special spot inside you his insistent press into it had you squeezing him and moaning loudly, invoking praise from his lips in the form of your name. He stilled in you soon after, cock spasming, spurting hot inside you as he emitted a low satisfied hmph, kissing along your lower jaw through both of your aftershocks.

When it was over, he let himself fall back onto one of the bed pillows and you followed him, still on top of him, allowing him to linger inside you as he softened, as your racing hearts returned to their normal rhythms, as you caught back your breaths. You were silent the whole time, not saying a word, just enjoying the intimate closeness with him. Trying not to let any of the fears and doubts knocking at your door in as your mind cleared from your lustful haze.

Eventually you rolled off him and he made a move to stand, only having managed to sit up when you pressed a palm against his broad chest in attempt to stop him from moving anymore.

“Stay with me, please?”

His eyes turned up to the doorway then back to your face, his expression saying what he wouldn't. He was uncertain if he should stay, though you could tell he wanted to. A brief kiss to his shoulder was all it took to convince him. "Alright. I'll stay."

You both took time to clean yourselves up in the bathroom across the hall, dressed back into your sleep clothes (you wearing his black t-shirt), and unmade the bed together, curling up under the thick blankets immediately after. You flipped onto your side, a hand folded under your pillow, and you smiled as he molded his burly body against your back, careful not to put any pressure on your wounds. His right arm draped over your stomach and you reached down to clasp his hand in yours, grateful for his affection. You felt safe in his arms, in a way you hadn't felt in a very long time, not when violent deaths and literal ghosts were a consistent part of your work. The warmth radiating off his body relaxed you as well, lulling you to sleep.

The last thing you felt as you drifted off was him burying his face into your neck.

x

You woke in the early morning to the beginnings of daylight spilling into the bedroom from the small window inside it. You were still warm, but when you registered that Tim's body was no longer pressed against yours, dread filled you. Had he decided to go back to his own bed after all?

You forced yourself to stand, quietly moving down the hall to peer into the next room over, the only other one with a bed in the house. The bed had been clearly used the night before, but it was empty, and when you dared to walk over to touch the sheets, they were freezing cold. You couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips at that before you tip toed back out the room. It had to be a good sign that he'd stayed the whole night with you, right?

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you headed for the bathroom and locked the door behind you so you could pee in privacy, still trying to push away your anxiety over how this morning would go. How Tim would be with you, what he would say. Where would you stand? You couldn't imagine the previous night being the one and only time you ever spent with him intimately, but you knew if he didn't want a real relationship you'd turn down any halfway offers. You weren't built for sex without emotion tied to it. It was in part why you hadn't had any for years, besides the forementioned workaholic issue.

You tried to ignore the ache that was forming in your chest as you washed your hands then brushed your teeth, splashing water in your face after, in an attempt to look put together when you were anything but after all that had occurred with Elliot and then Tim.

You strolled into the kitchen, finding Tim at the counter, pouring steaming hot coffee into two mugs. "Just in time," he said, his back still turned to you. You mused that he must have better hearing than you if he'd heard you padding into the room in your socks. None of the floorboards had squeaked. Maybe it was the job that had made him hyper aware.

"You want some coffee?" he asked, like everything between you was the same as it had been twenty-four hours before. You felt a tinge of annoyance that he could act so normal, but you hid it from him.

"Sure, if you have sugar and milk."

"Of course." He nodded at you and reached inside the fridge so he could grab the whole milk inside and mix a teaspoon of it into the coffee mug on his right, followed by a teaspoon of sugar from the canister on the countertop. He left his free of additives, preferring his black, something that still had you twitching your nose even after having seen him drink it nearly every day for the past year. You couldn't imagine drinking coffee as is, even if it was made with high quality whole beans.

Tim passed you your mug as you sat down at the small kitchen table in the far corner of the room. Instead of joining you he leaned back against the counter, eyes focused on his mug when he wasn't sipping from it.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" you inquired after a few minutes, the silence bothering you more than the fear of the conversation you were about to push.

Tim lifted his head to meet your eyes, appearing a bit ashamed. "I shouldn't have. Should've backed off. You were afraid. Seeking comfort. I feel like I took advantage of you."

You huffed. "I didn't sleep with you because I was afraid. I slept with you because your hands felt good on my skin. Because I trust you. Because I have feelings for you. Have for a long time. Do you know how good you look in suspenders?"

He snorted quietly, eyes falling back to the mug in his hands. "I've felt something for you for a while too. I've just been denying it to myself."

"Because of my abilities?" you guessed, trying not to be bothered by what was in the past.

He shook his head, looking back up at you. "I've been in denial about that too. Last night was not when you finally convinced me the spirits you see exist. It was slow, it snuck up on me, my belief, increasing with every case we took on that had an active one interacting with you. The way you consistently knew things you shouldn't have. The occasional unexplained eerie feeling I got sometimes right before you'd react to one showing itself to you. That's what eventually sold me. I just never imagined one would hurt you."

You recalled his reaction when he saw your scratches for the first time. "You were afraid for me. Last night."

"Of course," he confirmed with a growl. "Still am. He hurt you, he could hurt you again, and because Elliot's already dead I can't do shit about it."

There was a hint of defeat, of helplessness in his voice that made you feel like your heart was in a vice grip. You wanted nothing more than to run up to him and hug him, to reassure him it would be fine, but you denied yourself of that moment to further the conversation.

"The only way Elliot leaves me alone is if we solve the case," you told him. "And we've got a little over a couple hours before we can get back to that task. In the meantime, we need to figure out where we stand."

"Like if we pretend this never happened or we report to HR?"

"Something like that."

He peered back down at the coffee in his mug. "What do you want?"

"What do you think?" You curled your fingertips tighter around your mug. "I want whatever you want, unless that boils down to meaningless sex. I can't do that. What do you want?"

He sighed heavily. "A part of me wishes I could take last night back, and another part has no regrets." You swallowed hard, but said nothing as he continued, "This will complicate things at work. No matter what route we take. There's a reason HR frowns on people in the same unit having any kind of intimate relationship with each other."

"Because they're stupid," you muttered, sipping at your coffee, eyes shifting to peer up at him, waiting expectantly.

He couldn't help but chuckle even as he shook his head disapprovingly at you.

"I asked what you wanted, not HR," you reminded him, as you abandoned your mug at the table to join him by the counter.

When you got just within arm's reach he cupped your face with one palm gently, stroking his thumb over your cheek. "I want to see where this goes," he admitted.

"Then let's do that," you said as a weight lifted off your chest. "Screw HR."

Tim grunted. "We'll have to tell them eventually."

"Well, eventually is not going to be today."

He nodded his agreement as he guided your face closer to his, pressing a kiss to your lips more sweetly than you could've imagined him capable of.

When he pulled away you touched your forehead to his shoulder. "I need to get my work clothes at my house."

Elliot was not likely waiting there for you, and he could turn up anytime, anywhere, he even could've popped up right then and there in Tim's kitchen, but you still were not looking forward to it.

"I'll go with you," he offered immediately. "Let me put on my glasses and a pair of jeans and I'll drive you, go inside with you. You can grab whatever you need to get dressed for work and bring it back here. If that would make you feel safer."

He knew as well as you that it didn't matter to Elliot where you went, but he also knew going back to your home so soon after the attack would be difficult for you and that him being there would make a difference to you mentally.

"Thanks," you murmured. "I'll take you up on that."

"You can also stay here until the case is solved," he added, "No strings attached. I'm not expecting last night to happen again any time soon. I'm not trying to rush things. I just don't like the idea of you being alone while Elliot's still around, even though I know logically I wouldn't be able to stop him from hurting you again."

You beamed at him and wriggled your eyebrows. "Who says I don't want to repeat that any time soon?"

He cursed under his breath as you pulled away from him with a playful smirk and headed for the door. "I'll wait in the car."

"That's not fair, Psy," he called after you.

You didn't look back, but you were smiling warmly as you exited the house.

x

Luckily your fears of returning home were unwarranted, your quest to gather a few sets of clothes and beauty products uneventful. Maybe it had something to do with Tim standing formidably in the doorway to your bedroom as you packed your suitcase. Did the dead ever get intimidated by the living?

In any case you were grateful to get out of there without another confrontation with Elliot.

As soon as you and Tim arrived back at his house you both showered, him in the master bathroom and you in the hallway bathroom. He was dressed in a half hour and you in an hour, barely finishing up in time to not be late for work.

You and Tim took your own vehicles (well, he took his detective car), not wanting to spike the curiosity of any prying eyes and nosey noses in the department. Helen, bless her soul, would've been the first asking twenty questions and it was the last thing either of you wanted with your newfound relationship literally only hours old.

When you entered the Homicide Division you spotted Tim towards the back of the room having a conversation with Katie. You strolled up to them, a polite smile on your face.

"Anything new, Katie?" you asked lightly as you came to a stop between them, making sure you were no more closer or farther from Tim than you usually positioned yourself.

"Nothing with me personally," she told you, "But the Henley case, oh boy. Dex, the poison expert on our team tested a mystery substance in a gas can found half buried in the woods behind their mansion."

"And there were traces of arsenic."

"Of course," she said, "But that's just the beginning. There was blood on the canister. Just a speck. Looks like the killer cut themselves on the hard plastic trying to open the lid. I swabbed it and compared it to the oral samples we took from each of the Henley’s. Compared it to a blood sample from Elliot for good measure..."

You waited but after several seconds of silence you huffed. You hated when people stretched out tension, like a reality show going to commercial break right before the winner is revealed. "What'd you find kid?"

You could've sworn Katie's eyes were glowing with excitement. Whatever information she had was juicy.

"First off, you remember how Elliot is adopted, right?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Yeah..."

"Well, turns out he is actually related to Richard and his sisters," Katie informed you, "But not Hazel."

"Roderick cheated on her," you concluded, eyes broadening. "And she let him adopt his son when his mistress died?"

"She might have not known," Katie offered, "Not until now at least."

"Are you suggesting she's our prime suspect?" Tim quizzed.

"I would be," she replied, "...if it wasn't Richard's blood on the canister."

"He described Elliot as a leech," you recalled. "A lazy one at that. It wouldn't be a big stretch to think that after finding out Elliot is their father's bastard son that he might consider him unworthy of living in their mansion. Worse than an interloper; living, breathing evidence that their father was not faithful to their mother."

"We've got enough for you to get an arrest warrant," you stated.

"Let's get going then," Tim said, buttoning up his trench coat. "The sooner we have that warrant the better."

He didn't mention that it was because Elliot had become a threat.

x

By mid afternoon Richard was back in the same interrogation room he had been in the previous day, dressed in a suit and tie, having been caught on the front porch of the mansion right after returning home from a business meeting.

At first he wouldn't stop rambling, mostly about how he was going to sue the whole department for every penny for falsely accusing him, but he'd been quiet since Tim had revealed that Forensics had DNA proof that he'd opened the canister of arsenic, the gravity of his situation having finally sunk in.

"I know you said you're not going to talk anymore until your lawyer gets in," Tim started as he sat down in front of him, "But indulge me. Let me tell you how I think everything went down."

Richard stared at him, maintaining a neutral expression.

"I think somehow you found out Elliot was actually your half brother," Tim continued, "And I think you decided your good-for-nothing half brother had to go. You couldn't risk it getting out that your father, the head of your family, had once had a mistress. You had to keep your family's reputation clean of that kind of scandal for the sake of your business' success. Am I right?"

Richard had been well trained in the art of, well, training his face, but you had trained yourself well in the art of observation and you'd had several more years than him to practice. When Tim had called Elliot his half brother Richard's eyes had widened just a bit.

"You didn't know he was your biological brother," you realized. "You didn't murder Elliot." You took a step towards him, away from the wall your back had been pressed against. "Who had you open the gas canister, Dick?"

He refused to speak.

"Was it Jeanine? Heidi? No..." You paused, "It was Hazel after all, wasn't it?"

"Dick, without your statement, without the truth, we will have to go ahead with prosecuting you," Tim declared. "All the evidence points to you. Unless you can say otherwise or tell us of other evidence that would contradict what we've gathered."

"Guess I'm going to prison then," he snarled.

"Well, no one can argue you're not a good son," you said with a shrug, trying to act casual. "Guess there's nothing left for us to say here."

You headed for the door and Tim followed you out. "You have an idea."

"Actually, I don't," you admitted. "I was hoping you did. Since my little ghost problem won't go away until we put his real killer behind bars."

Tim worked his jaw. "We let Richard sit in prison for a few days, then let Hazel visit him and talk with her again after. Maybe she loves him enough to confess."

"A few days?" You arched your brows and he narrowed his eyes at you, his expression warning you not to say anything else.

"I don't have any ulterior motives behind the time frame," he told you. "We have the weekend off and Richard needs time to stew. To realize how awful prison truly is. Either he breaks or Hazel does."

You couldn't help the crooked smile that formed on your face. "Cold..."

“Apt.”

"True."

x

You spent the rest of the day digging up information on the Henley family history at the public library seven minutes away from the department and going over some photos that had been confiscated from the mansion.

One in particular got your attention. A wedding photo of Hazel and Roderick. “They look so happy,” you observed from over Tim’s shoulder as he studied it in one hand, his glasses grasped in the other. Something occurred to you. “Do you think she killed him too, for cheating?”

Tim shook his head. “I checked into his death. It was from lung cancer. He was a heavy smoker.”

"Of course.”

Tim checked his watch. "Time to clock out. Do you want to head out to a bar?"

It was a fairly common for him to ask you if you wanted to hang out at Liquid Alchemy on a Friday night, or after a case was closed, but it was the first time he had suggested a bar and not Liquid Alchemy by name. You cocked an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

"There's this upscale full bar in the Lazy Queen restaurant on the other side of the city," Tim informed you. "I've never been, but I've heard good things. Though it's a little pricey for everyone here. For one night it wouldn't hurt to indulge though. I'll pay."

You got the message. The bar's location and prices would keep anyone you knew from work away and would allow you both to enjoy the rest of the night without prying eyes.

You glanced at the doorway of your shared office, making sure no one on the floor outside of it was within earshot. "Sounds like a date."

"If you'd like it to be."

"I would."

Tim dropped the photo in his hand on the desk and put his glasses back on before pushing himself up onto his feet with a small grunt, his left hand briefly clutching at his stiff lower back. You held back a comment about him needing to get a new office chair. You'd already mentioned it to him several times before, but he was stubborn.

"I'll head out right now," he told you as he shrugged on his trench coat, which had been draped over the chair in front of his desk. "Give me five before you follow me. We'll meet up at my house and you can jump in with me, okay?"

You grinned. "Sounds like a plan."

He dared a quick kiss to your temple as he passed you on the way out of the room and your lips pulled back even more.

Dating Tim was going to get dangerous. You could get used to him being affectionate with you.

x

The Lazy Queen's restaurant had the best Margaritas you could ever recall, and they hit hard too. After only a couple your usually not-so-lightweight self had become a chatty twenty questions kind of gal. It was so out of character for you Tim was amused by your behavior, lips quirking up on several occasions as you continued through your list of questions which he all answered patiently.

"Horror or action films?"

"Action."

"Have you ever seen snow in person?"

"Of course. It snows in Portland. Just not every year. Heard rumors we might this December, but it's not something to bet on."

"What's the story behind this?" you quizzed, stretching forward to clasp his left hand in yours, displaying the small target tattoo in between his thumb and index finger.

"I got it when I first started basic training," he answered. "It was to remind myself to hit bullseye every time. Literally and figuratively. To never lose sight of my goals."

"And have you not?" you inquired.

"Not what?"

"Lost sight of your goals."

He shrugged, taking a sip of the fancy drink in his right hand, and you realize you've forgotten the name of it. You pushed your current Margarita, your third, away from you. "I've had to take a few failures like everyone else. We can't solve every case."

There was something in his dark eyes, a hint of grief and guilt, that sobered you up a bit because you knew then that he was thinking about his lost sister.

"Think you're sober enough to drive us home?" you asked him with a sigh.

His eyebrows shot up. "You moving in permanently?" He was smiling lightly, teasing.

"Not yet," you huffed. "You know what I meant. Your home."

"Yeah," he said, an index finger circling the edge of his glass. "I'm sober enough. I don't even have a buzz. I've been nursing this lone drink all night. You didn't notice?"

"Shut up."

x

You were running barefoot through the forest at night at full speed, in a flowing white dress that reached your knees, eyes darting over your shoulders on occasion to make sure whatever you were trying to escape wasn't gaining on you. It was too dark out to see that far behind you though.

Fallen leaves crunched under your bare feet, damp moss made you slip twice, and you had to leap a few tree roots that stuck out of the ground but you didn't slow your pace for even a moment.

You heard a river roaring in the distance and for some reason you were convinced that crossing that would save you, so you aimed for the sound, stretching your legs out as far as you could in hopes of covering ground even faster. You stopped looking back, certain if you kept moving that you'd get to safety.

You pushed through a thicket of trees and had to skid to a stop, narrowly preventing yourself from falling off the cliff on the other side of it, one of your feet halfway over the edge. You were right next to a waterfall. You gasped at the close call.

Remembering that you had been running from something you twisted around and your eyes grew into saucers when you spotted it. A black human shaped mass easily flowing through the trees, into the same open space you were in.

"You can run, but you can't hide forever," said a furious masculine voice. It was coming from the black mass, though you could not see a mouth, let alone see it move.

"Why are you chasing me?" you demanded fearfully.

"Because you are fleeing," the voice growled, like it was the simplest thing. Maybe it was to him. Nothing but a predator chasing prey.

You swallowed hard as he took a step forward. "I spent so much time living fictional lives, I forgot how entertaining the living could be to mess with."

Your eyes grew bigger. "Elliot," you whispered. "You don't belong here."

"In your dreams, or in the world?" he hissed as his form reshaped into the man you'd seen lying dead on a cold table less than forty-eight hours ago.

"Both," you replied. "Spirits who stick around can become troubled fairly quickly."

"You think I'm one of your troubled ghosts?" He chuckled, a gleam in his already eerie gray eyes. "All I've done is discover the benefits of being dead."

"This isn't the man who sat with his mother in the garden," you noted.

"No," he agreed. "That man was murdered by her. Apparently."

At your surprised reaction he beamed. "I was there when you interviewed my brother for the second time. I just made sure you couldn't tell. I'm getting better at stuff like that."

You shivered. "This isn't you, Elliot." You knew it to be true in your gut. Everyone had the capacity to commit evil, some more than others, but what mattered was how you had behaved, and while Elliot had maybe been lazy, nothing you'd heard or read about him had hinted at him behaving badly in any kind of way. The in between had twisted him beyond recognition.

"Who says anyone has to stay the same?" He strolled towards you and you took another step back, finding yourself teetering, dangerously close to falling over the cliff. He grinned. "It's fun messing with you."

He shoved you, catching you off guard for a second, sending you flying over. You heard your skull crack against a stone before you collapsed into the frigid water at the bottom.

x

Your eyes snapped open and you pulled ragged breaths from your lungs as you shot up into a sit in Tim's guest room bed. For a few seconds you didn't move other than to press your right hand to your chest and close your eyes as you focused on recovery.

It had felt so real, but it had all been a dream. You could hardly remember the last time you'd been so relieved. It was short lived though, as you realized that Elliot might've been the crafter of your nightmare. After all, though it was rare, it had happened before with other spirits. It would explain why you were still shaking. He was nearby, close enough to affect you, for you to sense him on some subconscious level.

On the way back to Tim's house you'd both decided that sleeping in separate bedrooms would be best for your relationship for a bit, not wanting to rush into it any more than you'd already had.

You regretted that as you rolled over and ran your hand over the cold spot next to you on the mattress in an attempt to seek comfort. You'd taken pride in yourself all your life for being independent, for not needing anyone else when you left the office, but there were occasions, nights like these, when the solace of another body besides yours would've been much more preferable.

For the first time in your life when a spirit had taken the reins of your subconscious, you had the option to change your situation. To seek that comfort you wanted so profoundly. You slid out of bed and walked into the doorway of the room next door, quietly knocking on the solid oak, trying to wake Tim without startling him.

He still flinched a little when he woke up, glancing around sleepily as he rolled from his side and onto his back. When he noticed you wordlessly standing in his doorway he blinked at you, confused. "What's wrong?"

You were suddenly shy, feeling stupid. Like you going to see him was childish, even though your nightmare hadn't been just a nightmare and you had every right to be afraid. "Elliot's nearby."

Tim sat up in bed quickly, the blankets that had covered him up to his shoulders slipping down to his waist. He had kept on the plain red shirt that he'd worn that night to bed with a fresh new pair of light gray sweatpants. "Where?"

"I don't know," you replied. "But he was in my dreams. He said he overheard that it was his adoptive mother who killed him and then he pushed me over a waterfall and I woke up."

"I'm sorry, Psy," he said, standing so he could rub your arms comfortingly. "Maybe waiting for Hazel to confess was a mistake."

You shook your head. "It's the only good plan we have. Any other could've screwed up the case. It's not your fault. And at least he didn't show up here in the house."

You still weren't exactly sure why.

"Do you want to stay with me?" Tim questioned. "Share the bed? Would that help?"

You shrugged. "Maybe. He doesn't seem to like interacting with me when you're around for some reason."

"He is shorter than me," he stated as if it made total sense.

You snorted at his joke but some part of you wondered if Elliot really was intimated by him. Sometimes spirits still acted like they were living and breathing. That could include fearful behavior.

In any case, you weren't about to turn down the offer you'd been hoping to get. "I'll take the right side, if that's alright. I sleep better there."

"You're in luck," Tim told you. "I actually sleep on the left most nights."

He returned to his bed, lifting the blankets high enough so you could easily follow, tucking yourself into his side. "Is this okay?" you asked him.

"Perfect."

Saturday and Sunday night were also spent cuddled up with each other in the same way. Tim didn't complain, and since you didn't have sex, you figured you were still complying pretty well with the promise you'd made to each other to slow things down while you began to learn each other on a much more personal level than you had before.

You were really reconsidering it though.

x

Monday morning you and Tim returned to work refreshed, coming back from a mostly relaxing weekend filled with old movies, takeout, and the background noise of rain.

You were so ready to get back to the case on that crisp, sunny day that it startled you when you spotted Hazel waiting for you both outside of the department's main entrance, extending her wrists out towards Tim in a gesture telling him to arrest her.

You and Tim both nearly dropped the coffee shop cups in your hands.

"I've come to confess," she declared, as if she needed to. "I killed Elliot."

Tim slapped the pair of cuffs he always kept on him while on duty onto her wrists and made sure they were secure. "Hazel Henley, you have the right to remain silent..."

x

Within ten minutes you, Tim, and Hazel were settled into one of the interrogation rooms, and Tim was holding up a voice recorder in front of her, flicking it on to record. "Start from the beginning. State your name and explain why you are here."

"My name is Hazel Henley, and I am here to confess that I killed Elliot Henley."

There was a slight tremble in her voice, but you were almost certain it was from having to admit to a crime and not because she regretted that he was dead.

"Mrs. Henley, why did you kill your son?" you prompted, trying to ignore a thickness that started to fill the air, making it a little harder to breath, putting something deep inside you on edge. Elliot was in the room, and he wasn't trying to hide it.

"Because he wasn't mine," she huffed. "Not really. Not at all in my eyes."

You frowned. "You didn't care about him; not even when you intially adopted him?"

"No," she answered bitterly. "How could I? Knowing he was my husband's bastard son?"

Tim lifted a brow. "You knew?"

"Of course I did," she said with annoyance. "I'm not stupid. Roderick was the one who came up to me suggesting we adopt him, nearly begged me. It was obvious. He would've never begged for a kid that wasn't of his own blood. Son of a friend or not."

"You knew Elliot's mother?"

"She was a neighbor of ours," Hazel explained. "Born into her money. Loved doing charity work as a job. The only sweet thing about her. She lived alone but had a way with people. Knew how to intertwine herself into everyone else's lives, make them worship her, or at least invite her to parties. She probably got pregnant on purpose in attempt to make Roderick leave me for her. I got the last laugh. Or so I thought, until the bitch died in a car accident."

"Why'd you agree to adopt Elliot?" you inquired, genuinely curious.

"Because Roderick always got his way," Hazel told you. "I wasn't always a strong-minded woman. I was worried saying no would be the last straw in our already broken marriage. I was trying to mend it."

"Then Roderick died..." Tim trailed.

"Then Roderick died," Hazel repeated. "And I was free to get rid of him before I got too old, before he could get a cent more of our money."

"Why did the canister of arsenic have Richard's blood on it?"

Hazel raised both of her hands in the air, palms down. They were tremoring slightly. "I can't get a good grip on most things nowadays. I needed someone to twist the lid open and pour some into a few smaller jars."

"He had no idea what you were doing?" you asked.

"He didn't even question what was inside," she replied. "He just poured it and left. My ever loyal son. I'm only confessing because he doesn't deserve to be in prison because of me. He has so much life left ahead of him."

You felt a flash of anger lick at your insides. Even though Elliot's spirit had attacked you twice, he'd only done that because of what Hazel had done to him. "Elliot had so much life ahead of him too."

She scoffed. "Playing video games? He was just like his mother. Living off his father's money. No ambition."

"You'd be surprised the money people can make playing games while others watch," you told her. "Some make millions."

"He wasn't," she assured you, eyes narrowing. She turned them back to Tim. "Anything else you need to know?"

"Plenty more," Tim said, "Starting with where you got concentrated arsenic."

She nearly smiled at him. "That's an interesting story, but a long one."

He gestured at her to go for it. "We have all day if necessary."

So she jumped into a story about how she found herself buying from black market dealers.

It was afternoon by the time you and Tim were done with her, by the time a prison guard was pulling her away from you both at the door where prisoners were dropped off.

On your way back to Tim's car you spotted Richard walking free, out of the chain link lined yard, a duffle bag over his shoulder. And Elliot was right there behind him, leaning against the fence, watching.

He must have felt you peering over at him because Elliot glanced up in your direction, and what you saw in his eyes surprised you. Getting justice must have calmed him because his expression was nothing like the one he'd worn either of the times he'd attacked you. It was like the madness had finally been lifted.

Strange how that sometimes worked.

You hesitantly gave him a curt nod and he gave you one back, disappearing immediately after, to God-only-knows where. Or maybe gods-only-know where.

You just knew that a subtle, insistent tension you hadn't really noticed was there before snapped and it seemed like the sunny day had become even brighter.

Elliot was gone.

x

That night Tim followed you back to your house, wanting to be there as you unpacked and settled back in, even though you'd assured him that Elliot had most definitely moved on.

That had eventually led you to asking him to stay for popcorn and a movie, to which he agreed to readily. It was almost ten o'clock when he got off the couch to leave.

"I'd better go," he said decidedly. "Getting late for a work night."

"I've been thinking," you told him.

"Oh?"

"About our agreement," you continued, standing up to give him a swift kiss on the mouth. "And I was thinking we should amend it."

Tim arched an eyebrow. "What were you thinking?"

"That we just do whatever feels right in the moment," you answered. "Within reason of course. We still have to be professional at work, of course. Even after we tell HR what's going on with us."

"So...no more slowing things down?"

"Technically we've already been in a relationship for thirteen months," you told him. "Just not a romantic kind. And we had our first date. Already have done plenty of cuddling..."

A subtle smile played on Tim's lips. "What are you suggesting, Psy?"

"You could stay here tonight," you replied, placing your hands on his suited chest. "You could show me what you'd have done that night if I hadn't taken lead. If you want."

He dived in to kiss you until you were both panting, until you were burning up inside. "I want," he confirmed, barely a whisper away from your mouth.

You grinned. "Then lead the way."

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Series Masterlist

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[trash-monkey]

Isekai: The world of Tenby

The wind blows hard as the blue moon shins brightly in the cloudy night sky causing the already freezing temperature to drop a little more as the dry snow on the ground is pushed around like sand but somewhere far off in a room of ancient and unknown is where a figure sits on their knees on the stone cold floor with their eyes closed as if they don't even notice the coldness of it, the figure is that of a young looking man that appears to be in his twenties as longish snow white hair rest elegantly on his head and looks to the softest to the touch. His posture is strong with muscles but at the same time so feminine with leanness and his skin it that of the most healthiest one has ever seen with pink tones, peach colored lipstick and eyeshadow adores his face. The clothes he wears looks to be made by the most gifted hands, his shirt fits him tightly as it has a black collar that stops in the middle of his neck with a real plate of gold at the base of it as it holds elegant craves while more gold travel up the front of the neck and circle around the top of the fabric, the shirts front holds two colors both white and black as the top is white as it ends in a arrow that points up and curves at the bottom of his biceps while the rest of the shirt is black and points down into his black skintight and smooth fitting pants, the shirt has no sleeves as it stops at the end of his shoulders and down to show his under arms as the left arm is cover in black skintight fabric that ends at his wrist and wraps around his middle finger allowing his palm and other fingers to show as the top of it begins at his forearm while his right arm is also covered in a black skintight fabric but it begins a under his elbow and cover his whole right hand.

Slowly his eyes open to show glowing golden eyes that hold powers beyond belief as under the shining blue moon in the winter land a purple swirling ball comes into existence which it twisted and turns fast as it grows bigger until it's the size of a boulder, suddenly it stopped as if time has stopped itself and with a cracking roar it splits opens with blinding lights only for it to disappears seconds later as if it never existed in the first place as the only evidence of it is a body laying prone in the soft snow wearing clothing that is strange to this world but not suitable for the cold weather.

"What?" The guy laying in the snow gasped after slowly opening his eyes only to shoot up onto his feet in panic and look around wildly only to see what seems to be a endless winter land all around, his body shivers at the coldness of the air which he warps his arms around himself trying to warm up before noticing a dim light in the distance and slowly he push himself to walk to it. By the time he gets to the source of the light to see a little tent his feet feels so numb along with his body which he unwilling collapse into the snowy ground in front of the opening of the tent although he's unconscious he's breathing heavily, old withered feet uncaring of the coldness of the snow steps into it from the opening of the small tent to stroll the short distance to the guy laying in the snow and old withered but firm hands easily pick him up into their surprisingly strong arms to carry into the tent.

"Oh, your finally awake!" A face full of wrinkles with a open smile that has missing teeth pops into my vision after opening my eyes only to see blurry colors but after blinking a few times to get them focused to see a unfamiliar ceiling hanging over me.

"Sit and listen, I'll explain everything." The old man crosses his legs as he sits a little way from me as I go to sit up and he holds up a hand when I went to ask questions.

"What you see now is not the real me as this plane of existence can not handle the power that comes with my true form so I have to use a vessel when wanting to visit, for who I am and where you are? This world is Tenby and I'm it's god, Naaji. You may not remember but you have passed from your world so you can't go back to it and I have brought you here to replace me as this world has already forgotten about me so I don't hold much power to it anymore, it's time for a new god to rise but you must first journey through this world and it won't be easy also Tenby holds many things you may recognize as it's a combination of worlds that already exist." I stare at my lap in shock at not only I've been brought to a new world and can't go back to my previous one but I have dead and I'm going to become a god, the god let's us sit in silence for a while to let me progress the information he had just given me.

"But you aren't starting empty handed." He stands up to hand me a few things after grabbing them.

"Two simple pairs of clothes......." As he says the clothes are just some simple clothing to help me blend in as I don't have to wander around in my PJs now.

"A simple pack that comes with a tent, one pot, and a single bed roll......" It's a simple leather pack although it's empty right now except for the small pot and I guess the dark green roll on top is the tent while the soft brown cloth on the bottom is the bed roll.

"And one blessing from me which only you can see." He snaps his fingers immediately causing a golden screen to appear in the air which my eyes widen at.

Tent

Lvl: Backpacker

Points: 0

Inner comforts:....

Outer comforts:....

Other Comforts:....

Complications:....

"What's that look for?" Naaji asked when I give him a deadpan expression.

"A point system?"

'Like any another Isekai there's always some type of system given by some god or goddess...'

"Well, a god-to-be's journey have to be full of unexpected twists and plus I like the concept of it from what I have read from your world's books." Naaji played with his fingers as if he told some big secret which only deepen my deadpan expression.

'..... Of course he's a weeb'

"Hey, stop giving me that look! Fine, if you don't want it then I'll just take the blessing back then!" He goes to snap his fingers again which I immediately stopped.

"Please no! I'm sorry!" I cried out while shooting from the bed roll I was laying in to hold his fingers apart to keep his fingers from snapping, he blinks in surprise at the sudden closeness.

'I probably won't be able to survive without it...'

"Okay..." He gently push me back out of his personal space so I sit on the floor with him instead of returning to the bed roll.

"The blessing I have given to you is called the Eyes Of Fortune which your eyes will give off a glow when looking at it so others can tell when you're using it."

'With the upgrades to the tent seems like I'm meant to be on the move all the time'

"But what if I went to settle down in some town?" I mumbled to myself as I look through the many options for the tent that it has at it's current level.

"You can if you wish so I only made the tent a special item in case you want to be on the move a lot, you can even make your own town for all I care as long as you replace me in the end!" Naaji waves his hand nonchalantly when he heard my mumbled question.

"Wait, special item?" I question when I finally process what he just said.

"Yeah, there's all kinds of special items I have made throughout the centuries though I don't know if they still exist but since you have the Eyes Of Fortune blessing you can use them if you find any of them." This information gets me thinking.

"Does this blessing only work with special items? If so how am I meant to replace you if there's no way to strength myself beyond my human possibilities? What if I don't to replace you!?"

"If you truly don't want to take my place then I'll just send you back to your afterlife and for the strength, why should I tell you when you'll find out anyway?" He gives a smirk at the end and let me progress this.

"This is a once in a million chance to new start to live the way I always wanted to....." I trail off while staring at my lap which Naaji nods right as I start getting doubts.

"But what if I go evil in the end? Will you cut me down?" I question about the possibilities of my future.

"You might do so but light can not shine without the darkness as death can not live without life, if it turns out that way I'll bring another soul here to be that light if that happens." I give a nod as that settles most of my doubts.

"I'll pour you some hot water for a nice bath!" Naaji stand up from the floor knowing I need some time to myself to think everything over of what I have just learned.

'a nice hot bath sounds nice'

After a few minutes of waiting Naaji comes back and I follow him to a small secluded part of the tent after grabbing one of the pairs of clothes he has given me to see a wooden tub with steaming water inside waiting for me which Naaji gives me a kind smile before shutting the curtain as he goes, I undress from my PJs before giving a sigh in pleasure when sliding into the hot water chase away chill that had settle deep in my bones and I lean my head back to stare at the ceiling of the tent. The old man stares blankly at the fire inside the lantern while taking a buff now and then from the worn smoking pipe as he seats on the floor in silence, the withered faded green eyes glows a light golden color from the god within as smoke roll from the cracked lips.

'This old man is the last that remembers me, the last host I can use to visit this plain of existence, and the last of a quickly fading age of this world'

_______________________________________________

@happyface002 @it-veries023

[isolaradiale]

This is an event rerun. For more information on how to participate, please check our EVENT RERUN GUIDE! If you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask!

(full size comic image can be found here!)                                          ☆               ☆                ☆

“And… that should do it.” Caelum sighed, punctuating his words with a few taps of the keyboard and putting his drink back down on the desk.

“Look this over for me?” “Do I look like Bellatrix to you? You think I can just read code with my own eyeballs and say whether this should work or not?” “I wouldn’t sell yourself short.” He answered with a wry smile. A nice way of saying Aspidiske wasn’t getting out of this one, she regrettably realized. Moving from her spot with a groan, she propped her elbows against the back of the old man’s desk chair with a bored expression.

“Yeah yeah, looks great--Hold it. This isn’t even the same thing you were typing twenty minutes ago.” “Ah, very good! See, I knew you were capable of reading it with your eyeballs, as you said.”

“You think you’re funny don’t you, Grandpa.”

Gritting her teeth to block out the sound of a hearty laugh, she scrolled through each line, reaching a couple times to tap something on the keyboard in front of him.

“...What’s that line there.” “A choice bank.” “What for?” “I thought it might be courteous to allow them to decide where they want to go.” “Why.” “Well, if people choose an environment they like, they’re more apt to explore it, yes? Why choose someone who isn’t equipped to handle it?” “Because it’s fun watching them squirm, that’s why. I’m changing this.” “Hey--” “Oh nooo, I’m gonna hit Run! Ohhh nooo!” “Now see here, I--”

The next sequence of events all passed within seconds. Caelum’s fingers hit ‘undo’, Aspidiske moved to push his hand away with her own and deployed the RUN button with the other. Both collided with the glass on the table, knocking its mostly full contents onto the desk. A mixture of ice and sweet liquid flooded between the keys and into the cracks of the dashboard as Aspidiske pulled her companion backward sharply, saving him the sting of electric shock. The monitor split into several bright, jarring colors before attempting to pull itself back together, and numbers and symbols jumped from place to place before everything went blank for a few agonizing seconds. Both exhaled when the monitor whirred back to life, with the following prompt flickering and glitching across the screen.

                                        [ OPERATION S.H.O.R.E ]                                             [ STATUS: ACTIVE]

Not too long after that ordeal, the click of the intercom and a long, disappointed sigh cut the silence. The deadly even voice of Pleiades spoke into the room. “You two. In my office. Now.”

                                            ☆               ☆                ☆ Your phones switch on by themselves; the cafe televisions turn on, the daily news changes, your phone calls all display the same message over any visual media they can. But the person who appears in the broadcast is an elderly man, sitting at a table in a semi-professional manner, and a smaller woman behind him cackling.

“Hello! Hello, good evening, everyone. This is the first time we’ve met like this, ah? It’s good to see you on a personal level--” “As personal as a giant broadcast can be.” “...Ahem. You can call me Dr. Caelum. Behind me is Aspidiske.” “Don’t drag me into this, old man.” “I’m here to report that there are several islands off the coast of Spirale that have recently cleared from the mist. Given what happened a couple months ago when a mysterious object appeared, we’re unsure if the GPU has a hand in this or not. I’ll be frank with you, my friends, there aren’t enough of us to explore the islands ourselves. That’s where you all come in, I hope!” “Not like you all have that much of a choice, after all. Cooperation is key, or something, something...” “On your devices, I’ve sent something of a ticket for your island excursions. There are four that we’ve monitored in total, so you have the option of being transported to any one of those. Once we’ve collected enough information on the islands, we’ll bring you right back, safe and sound. We’ll be here, monitoring your progress as--”

From off-camera, something seems to spark and pop menacingly, along with a hissing noise that makes the old man lose a bit of color.

“...Well, I trust you’ll do fine! If you’ll excuse me.”

He grabs his cane, and with a bit of effort, Caelum rises from his chair. Aspidiske takes the seat in front of the camera.

“Uh, guess that’s one way to get the job don-”

The monitors cut the broadcast abruptly, and on your devices, a prompt appears.

[ Welcome to Operation SHORE: Surviving Hazards Of Relaxing Escapes! Please choose your island destination: ]

Haugst Isle

Resources: Plentiful (manufactured)

Shelter: Provided

Danger rating: High

Tags: Monsters, Prison, Laboratory

Nommin Isle

Resources: Plentiful (natural)

Shelter: None

Danger rating: Low

Tags: Tropical, Deserted, Beautiful

Foss Isle

Resources: Plentiful (natural)

Shelter: Minimal (caves)

Danger rating: Moderate

Tags: Volcano, Dinosaurs, Jungle

Volaat Isle

Resources: Moderate-Low (luxury)

Shelter: Moderate (abandoned ships)

Danger rating: Low

Tags: Sunken ships, Storms, Small

(Detailed descriptions of each island can be found Here!)

Upon choosing your destination, your phone screen will glitch out for a few seconds, and you’ll suddenly and instantly vanish from your place in Spirale. As soon as you disappear, you reappear on the island you chose (or perhaps a different island than what you picked altogether) with your island-issued cell phone as your only belonging.

                                           ☆               ☆                ☆ 

So, what’s happened?

Your characters have suddenly appeared on one of the mystery islands outside of Spirale, and must survive and thrive on the island they’ve chosen/landed on. This includes things like finding food and water, making shelter, and fending off the elements and creatures that you encounter during your extended stays.

Am I limited to one island?

Nope! Due to the system shorting and glitching out on occasion, it’s entirely possible for your character to wind up on a completely different island in the blink of an eye. It’s also possible to build some kind of raft or ship and sail to one of the other islands! (If you know how to sail and the weather is kind to you…)

You can also use means like flying, freezing a bridge, riding a dolphin, or whatever your powers would allow you to do to get from one island to the other.

HOWEVER if you sail too far away from the islands, you’ll run into the mists that usually surround Spirale, and you’ll succumb to the safe effects they have under normal circumstances and sail right into Davy Jones’ Locker… (...and die.)

How do I get back to Spirale?

It’s impossible to get from the islands to Spirale by any means of transport (sailing, flying, teleporting, etc.)

However, if you’ve met a grisly end and died on one of the islands, you’ll respawn in Spirale, and won’t be able to return to the islands.

Do our phones work?

They sure do! You can even still use the internet on them, if you’ve met the rank requirement to get it. They charge with solar power and are waterproof, but they won’t survive being smashed or broken, so don’t do anything reckless with them!

Do I have to go to an island to participate in the event?

Not necessarily. As long as you have a thread or drabble that’s related to the event, that will count toward participation. (For example, if your character in Spirale City were to make a phone call to another character stuck on one of the islands, that would count.)

Do I have to explore and survive and put my muse in danger?

Not at all! This event is designed to be versatile; you can take the opportunity to build from the ground up and bond with your friends (and enemies?) and have a laid-back vibe if you want. You can have a dangerous expedition to find resources and shelter with peril at every corner, too. You can even ignore the survival aspect and finally have that cool one-on-one duel with your rival atop a rocky cliff during a lightning storm where no one will interfere!

You can help or hinder anyone who arrives on the island and make new friends or enemies. You can learn to fish, hunt or forage for food. You can play in the ocean or run for your life. It’s up to how you want to play the event!

Do drabbles count?

Yup! A drabble of 500+ words will get you credit for this event.

Is there an event reward for this one?

The reward is the friendships you made along the way… and maybe a cool sea shell.

How long will the event run?

This event will run until Friday, June 9th, at 11:59:59 pm EST!

[infinityyrp]

ROLEPLAY PARTNER NEEDED! 11-2-23

In search of a long term, flexible, consistent roleplay partner.

21+. I'm in my late twenties so I need someone that can match my energy and not be childish and ghost for no good reason.

I write in third person or first person. Either or, I try to match my partners with everything they give.

I'm looking for the Fandom Teen Wolf— I wouldn't mind discussing original plots and characters though, if you're completely OPEN to alot of different things.

I prefer the female role, I've been burned far too many times in the past with doubling. Some people in the roleplay community really lack the ability to play equally.

I will be open to doubling up if you give each side the same attention. Keep in mind if you don't, I'll match your energy with your side, and eventually let you go.

I'm looking for someone to play Derek Hale and Scott McCall against my female OC.

I can play anyone from the Fandom, but Stiles Stilinski and Isaac Lahey are my specialty.

Please be comfortable with all aspects of drama. I have little to no limits but will respect your triggers, though some things might be a deal breaker. Your IRL morals shouldn't be effected by a fictional story— (R*pe, suicide, abuse is completely understandable though and I'd never hold that against you!) I'm talking more along the lines of, IF you don't like kids and shit in a rp, cheating, love triangles, etc. Then I'm probably not the partner for you. I have enough fluff in my daily life, I don't want the same for my rp life LOL. Consistent romance/vanilla stiff gets boring for me.. at least on my end. But if that's what you prefer for YOUR SIDE. I'll do it all the time. But the same effort better be reciprocated for my side when it comes to drama otherwise we won't be compatible.

I'll respect your reasonable limits/triggers.

My limits are — Bathroom play, incest (This is negotiable!) and deep pedophilia. (Won't do anything under 17.)

My OCs are people of color and considered plus sized in society's eyes.

I'm LGBTQ friendly.

I'm POC friendly.

I hope we can be friends outside of roleplay.

I prefer female partners, I've had bad experiences with Males in the past.

I'm married and a mom so my personal life comes first, however I send multiple replies a day and want someone on the same wave length as me when it comes to rapid fire/replying a few times a day.

I understand life happens though abd at that point, communication is key.

I'm not ghost friendly, we're grown, communicate so we can part ways cordially.

I'm in other Fandoms, just ask and we'll discuss it.

Discord is my preferred method of communication/ roleplay.

I make organized servers and use Tupperbox.

Please don't be afraid to reach out, I promise I'm very friendly and easy going!

My writing style is 2-3 paragraphs, I'm all about quality over quantity, but I won't accept anything less than 2 paragraphs, and most of the time I write until nitro kicks in.

If you've made it this far, great!

Hope to hear from you soon!

My timezone is GMT-5.

My discord information:

Infinityyrp

[nixacorp]

So I think I figured out a new way to make a kandi choker without anything but string and beads. Also doesn't need extra thick string to handle the stretch. You need: - 2 pieces of cord, just make them long you can always trim them later. I'm using a rainbow that I use for most of my kandi. - Measure your neck size. it is adjustable to a certain extent but more coverage is better. For my beads every three beads on the straight part was about .75 of an inch. I used twenty sets of three plus one extra on the end. - Beads! Get cool ones! I'm using clear, pastels, and glow in the dark for the very center piece Step by step: 1. count out your beads, lay them in the pattern you want color wise so they're easy to grab 2. Put all the beads straight on the first string. 3. Put 3 extra on the very end (labeled y above). 4. Take the cord and loop it back through that last bead you put on besides the 3. Make it only go through this bead and pop out 5. String 3 beads. These are going to be side of the x, middle of the x, side of the x 6. Skip 2 beads and put it through the 3rd one. Only put it through the third one and have it pop back out. In the attached picture note I've put a pastel instead of a clear each time you have to do that. 7. Repeat the above 2 steps until you get back to where you started. 8. Tighten! Make sure you tighten it enough that the beads start to form the Xs. I had to wiggle both strings independently and push the beads into position to get this to work 9. Once it's tight enough, wrap both loose ends of the beads through that last one to prevent it sliding. 10. Get your second piece of string. Repeat step 2 through 4 above on this string 11. Now instead of stringing 3 beads, put one, run it through the middle bead of your already built half, and then put on a second. 12. Run it back through, every third bead just like before. Just attach the sides together. 13. Get to the end, tighten. Try to make sure everything is flat and straight and properly x light. Do the same thing where you loop the cord through the final bead and tie to make it tight. 14. Hold the almost finished choker up to your neck. Find out how big the gap is between the ends. I used fingers to measure. 15. Tie a square knot so a loop forms that's a little less then the gap. Repeat for both strings You're done! To wear put around your neck, and put that loop your tied over the 3 end beads. X meeting Y. I normally do this in the front and then spin it around to hide it. Hope this was clear enough. There are for sure other ways to do this but I figured this one out and it's not that hard. Have fun and good luck!

[littlemessyjessi]

"I Need A Favor": Naga Boyfriend Sef: Part Three

"I Need A Favor": Naga Sef: Part Three 

Warnings:  Some mature content.  Monster boyfriend… if that can be a warning.  Maybe language.  Also, my unedited, un'beta'd work.  Maybe my grammar because I'm a troll.  Idk?  

. 

Monster Boyfriend x Plus Size Reader 

Commissioned by the lovely @thickemadame  

Thank you so much, darling!  And I apologize that this took so long.  I was devastated when I lost everything on my old computer and I am permanently scatter brained but still… I am appalled that it took my so long.  I love you, darling! 

-

Never in my life had I been so nervous for someone to be in my garden. 

All this despite the fact that I had strangers in it all the time for photoshoots … and also the fact that Sef was my neighbor and literally saw it every day. 

Though somehow this felt different. 

While my nerves were turning my stomach into the equivalent of a washing machine with a brick inside… I was still quite proud of my the oasis that I had created in my time here. 

The lush foliage and blooming flowers. 

I'd put a lot of work into making sure that it was a garden that was beautiful year round and taking care to plant so meticulously so that when one thing was done another was coming to life. 

Strategically placed stone pieces reminiscent of a garden some ancient greek goddess might've had. 

Twinkling lights and no short amount of gorgeous focal points. 

It was my pride and joy. 

Despite the fact that I allowed strangers here for my side hustle all the time… it still seemed intimate to have a date here. 

I'd never done that before. 

I'd chose a simple outfit for the evening. 

Something comfortable and flowy to accent my figure in an ethereal way but also cozy enough as to not add discomfort to my growing anxiety. 

The scent of something cooking away caught my attention and l looked over the fence to see a trail of smoke spiraling into the air. 

I stood on my tiptoes and peeped over the fence to see Sef standing at the grill. 

I admired him for a moment before he began to chuckle. 

"You know, I've heard of Peeping Toms before but perhaps I should call you a Peeping Tammy." he said before those vivid eyes of his flicked up to meet mine. 

I was suddenly very grateful for the fence between us as I could feel the heat rise in my skin… and more importantly the weird face I pulled when I realized I'd been caught. 

"Sorry, I smelled the food." I said. 

"I'm glad to know you're hungry." he said.  "I may have overcooked a bit but it's alright.  Atleast, I know you'll be well fed with the leftovers this week."  

"If it's as good as it smells there may not be any left." I said.  "Would you like me to open the gate?" 

"That would be great." he said, turning the vegetables on the grill. "I'll meet you in the middle." 

I fiddled with the latch on my side and swung the gate door open at the same time he did his. 

At the risk of sounding terribly cliche, it was like a moment in the moment where the two romantic leads finally see each other in a certain light. 

And in a way… it was. 

Despite the rather comical last twenty four hours or so… I had never really taken notice of Sef in this way. 

Handsome? 

Definitely. 

Talented? 

Without a doubt. 

But I had never really, really looked at him as a pontential partner. 

And I had to say… he was looking very good. 

A slow smile spread across his lips, "You look absolutely breathtaking." 

"Thank you." I said softly.  "You look very handsome, yourself." 

And he most certainly did. 

He'd opted for a green button down that made his skin tone positively glow against it as well as matching his eyes incredibly well. 

I was also very pleased to see that he hadn't completely changed back into his human form. 

He was caught somewhere in between. 

The legs were gone, replaced by his long tail and little scales dotted his skin here and there. 

His eyes were the same beautiful color but if you looked closely you could see that the pupil of the eye was enlongated a bit. 

Apparently, I had been quite too long and mistook my admiration for gawking. 

"I, uh, I hope this is alright." he said gesturing towards his tail. 

"Oh!" I started, shocked and perhaps a little embarassed that I'd made him uncomfortable.  "Of- of course! Whatever you are most comfortable with.  I, um, well I was just admiring you was all.  I didn't mean to stare.  You just… you look very handsome tonight and I was a little taken." 

He smiled softly but only broke out into a laugh as I bumbled through my words again. 

"Not to say that you're aren't always handsome! You are! You always have been! I mean, you know that.  You see yourself in the mirror every day.  Oh god, someone please shoot me to put me out of my misery.  Excuse me while I go crawl under a rock and die now."  

He erupted into further laughter before he gently took my by the arms, "Relax, sweetheart.  It's quite the confidence boost to know that you're so taken." 

"Oh, great.  As if your ego needed anymore inflating." I said before I could stop myself. 

The smile turned into a fond little smirk, "Ah, there's that sassy mouth I love so much." 

"Excuse me?  You enjoy ridicule?" I asked. 

He laughed, "It's not ridicule. It's your duality.  I love that you are both sweet and salty. It's my favorite kind of snack actually." 

In favor of my thundering heart, that I have no doubt he could hear judging by the deepening smirk on his face… I chose to ignore to the double meaning to those words. 

Instead, I chose to prissily turn my nose up, "It's very rude to call your date salty, you know." 

"Oh, would you prefer sweet and sour?  That's another flavor combination I'm partial to.  I just love devouring things that dance on my tongue." 

My heart felt as if it were going to burst from my chest and I narrowed my eyes into slits when he actually doubled over in laughter. 

"I am so not your friend anymore." I said, huffing and turning away from him. 

It was all playful, of course. 

He was riling me up and despite the fact that my body was betraying me, I couldn't deny that I loved his attention. 

"Oh, come now." he whispered into my ear and I almost choked. "Don't be cross with me. I was only teasing.  It's just my nature." 

In his nature, indeed. 

His arms wrapped around me as well as his tail, "But you are correct about one thing." 

Curiosity having gotten the better of me, I turned in his embrace to lock eyes with him, "What's that?" 

"I don't want to be your friend." he said. 

My brows furrowed in indignation. 

"I want to be much, much more than that." he said, a twinkle in his eye again. 

I slipped out of his embrace after deciding that I needed to give my nervous system a break from his infuriatingly intoxicating presence. 

"Go finish the food." I said sternly. 

"Yes, ma'am." he said, bowing dramatically and slithering back to the grill. 

I huffed again and I could hear him snort in the background….but I would sooner fling myself off a cliff than give him the satisfaction. 

I soon lost myself in fussing over the area I had prepared for us. 

Earlier I'd made quite the little paradise in the best spot in the garden. 

I'd set up the projector and brought every pillow I owned outside under what I called the fairy grove. 

Twisting vines and twinkling lights. 

It was magical. 

"Where should I put these?" 

I turned to see him standing there with trays of food in his arms and a small bar cart trailing behind him being pulled by his tail. 

It would seem that it was quite dextrous. 

Interesting. 

I shook the thought from my head before I could start drooling.  

"Just there." I said pointing to an open spot while I fretted over the set up. 

"Just relax." he whispered in my ear.  "There's no need to be so tense.  If you're trying to impress me, just know that I've been impressed since the moment I saw you.  I just want to spend time with you." 

And for some reason, my stress just slid off my shoulders. 

We ate- his skills as a chef were truly unmatched. 

We drank- he hadn't been lying about being a bartender. 

We laughed- he was incredibly funny with a sharp wit. 

Before I knew it, we were laid out, stomachs full and smiles on our faces as we watched the movie. 

We'd long since turned the volume down and decided to provide our own dialogue. 

He'd just finished making it seem as if the lead role was headed in for his routine colonoscopy causing me to fling myself backwards across the pillows in a fit of laughter. 

He laughed before laying back and joining me. 

We stared up at the night sky through the canopy of leaves and soft twinkling fairy lights. 

"You know, I've always thought this was the best spot in your garden." he said. 

"Thank you." I said before blinking, "Hold on.  You've never been in this spot of my garden.  You've never even been in my garden before." 

He gave a long that I could only describe as a child having been found out when they were being naughty. 

"Well, that's not exactly true…" he said. 

"Oh?" I asked. "Been trespassing have you?" 

I wasn't necessarily accusing him… though I was curious as to what might've provoked him to scale not only his gate but mine as well. 

"Kind of." he said.  "But you've actually seen me many, many times. You've even given me snacks and placed me in sunny places on particularly chilly days." 

"What are you talking about?" I asked. 

He sighed and before my eyes he transformed yet again into a tiny green garden snake. 

I gasped, "My little friend…" 

He slithered towards me and gently nudged my hand with his head until I ran my fingers over his scales. 

He changed back and looked at me sheepishly, "Honestly, I never meant to invade your privacy.   I've just always thought you had such a beautiful garden and, of course, you are possibly the most lovely creation in here.  I just… wanted to get closer to you. I didn't exactly have the confidence." 

I was shocked. 

"I've told you many, many secrets like that." I whispered. 

"And they're still just as safe with me as they were when you thought I was just a little snake." he pressed. 

"But why?" I asked.  "If you were so taken then why not just talk to me?" 

He chuckled, "Love, for all my pompous ego of mine… I am really no different than any man. I see a beautiful person and I am just as scattered and flustered as the rest of them."  

"What's changed then?" I asked out of curiosity.  "Forty eight hours ago, we weren't exactly chummy." 

"I've known for a long time that I wanted you, darling." he said. "But in my time of need, when you didn't particularly like me… you helped and it was that that told me everything that I ever needed to know about you. I wasn't afraid of asking anymore.  I was more afraid of not asking… and letting the opportunity slip away." 

I was quite then. 

Pondering all he'd told me. 

Here I'd thought it was simply a neighbor version of 'and they were roommates' but it was so much more. 

"There is this thing with creatures of my breed, the Scalenes, The Cobraeans." he said.   "Our animal counterparts don't always hold true to it but those of us who live between the two worlds of human and animal.  We're born with two eyes, two ears, many things in twos.  But we're only born with one heart… because we're supposed to find the other.  I… I think I've found that with you." 

I simply stared at him for a moment. 

Perhaps a moment too long because he seemed to be panicking a little. 

"Uh… could you say something?" he said before looking down at his lap, eyes widening.  "I don't think you're freaked out.  You're hearts not racing but your eyes are dilated. Oh my goddess, I've gone and thrown you into shock! By Medusa's gaze! Nice going, Sef! You've gone and-" 

His sudden monologue was cut short by my laughter and he whirled around to look at me. 

"Sorry, sorry." I said. "I just - you're quite funny when it's you having the come apart." 

He narrowed his eyes at me slightly. 

"I reveal my feelings to you and you laugh at me." he chuckled.  "Wow." 

"Oh, come now." I said with a mischeivious smirk of my own. 

He gave me a deadpan look, "It's not nice to toy with a man's libido after scaring the life out of him." 

I smirked, "And I thought you liked my duality." 

"Well the sour I get but I've yet to see the sweetness." he pouted. 

"Aw, I'm sorry." I said, playfully rolling my eyes.  "Whatever, can I do to make it better? Would you like a hug?  Perhaps, a cuddle?" 

"Not enough." he pouted childishly, already long over it but definitely gonna milk it for what it was worth. 

That much I could tell already.  

"You made my blood run cold I was so scared." he accused. 

"You're Scalene.  Your blood is always cold." I teased. 

He huffed but I could tell he wasn't finished, "The only way this absolute injustice could possibly be righted is by a kiss." 

I pretended to ponder it just for the sake of toying with him. 

"I could…"I trailed off, bringing my lips dangerously close to his, ghosting them against each other. 

He chased after me as I pulled away. 

"Tease." he hissed at me. 

I giggled ridiculously, "Perhaps, I have Scalene in my bloodline somewhere.  Teasing seems to be in my nature as well." 

He narrowed his eyes but the smile playing about his lips gave him away. 

I dramatically clasped my hands together in consideration, "I could give you a kiss to mend this obvious discontent I've bestowed upon you.  But perhaps, I've been too cruel.  Perhaps, it's not enough." 

He softened thinking I was serious, "Darling, you don't have to.  I was only playing." 

I winked at him, "Oh but I do.  I have giving you saltiness and sourness.  So now I shall give you something very sweet." 

I pulled him into a kiss that seemed to suck the very life from him. 

He was easy to roll over as I straddled him. 

"And now perhaps, I'll let you have that snack after all." I said flicking the bottom of my dress at his face. 

The man looked like it was Christmas Day and Santa Clause himself had arrived to give him his presents. 

And that is how two quarreling neighbors ended up finding the other heart they'd always been searching for. 

Fifteen years later and we're still together. 

We tore down our fence and built out two homes together into one just as we did with our own lives. 

Tore down the walls we'd both had around our hearts and built a new one together. 

Entwined together forever. 

And it all started with a favor. 

—--- 

For my darling @thickemadame : I do hope I've done this justice and that you forgive me for taking so long.  I know it's not very smutty but I got caught up in the fluff of it all and I hope there was enough saucy bits to keep you happy.  All my love, darling. 

—-

Hey, loves! I hope you liked it! I'm trying out new content styles! If you liked, it please let me know!

Love, K

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[themadknightuniverse]

lalo and nacho putting together a piece of IKEA furniture

So I happened to do exactly this activity all day long so I've been thinking about this all day. I think many things could happen. I think Nacho is the kind to be extremely tactical and sticking to the plan. He would have a rug of the perfect size for the furniture to build it on. All kinds of screwdrivers, two hammers, a box with extra pieces he kept from precedent purchases and a little extra piece of wood to put between the furniture and the hammer so to not damage the surface around the nail/other plastic stuff. Lalo is the kind to open everything and mix boxes contents, mix packages of screws/plastic stuff/wood pieces/etc, and would just try to find how everything as to be assembled without following the plan at all. He would probably throw ALL the plastic stuff over his shoulder because it looks stupid to him. "I did plenty of carpentry stuff when I was younger, Ignacio, I know what I'm doing." "but this isn't a rectangular box, Lalo." "Yeah just mock me, come back in twenty minutes it'll be done." When Nacho comes back he finds the piece of furniture finished and perfectly square and all, but all the screws are visible because Lalo just assembled everything so it looks like the drawing on the cover of the plan. And he doesn't botter to use any of the plastic covering pieces to hide them either. "You know there are pre-drilled holes fitting each kind of screws and all? And so when you're done almost none of them are visible." "It's called arts and crafts, Nachito." "That's why you painted blue and red flowers one the sides here?" "You don't like them?" "Hm. I wanted plain black shelves but... it's fine I guess." *beaming Lalo* Lalo would be complaining about the quality of the furniture, like the wood is too cheap and "we could have such a nice wood with such pretty color shades, and not that boring plain black stuff" and Nacho would just "We already had this discussion when I told you I had the idea to buy a shelve, when I told you we were going today, when we were driving to IKEA, when we were inside IKEA, when we picked the boxes, when we paid, when we came back here, and you're telling me you want to have this conversation again now that we're actually assembling it? Shut the fuck up Eduardo." There is also the possibility of Lalo playing it like he does everything for the cartel job while he have a subordinate with him, he sits low in a chair on the side, feet up on something, hands behind his head, and spends his time looking and commenting everything. Nacho brings the various boxes inside the room and notices him and just "Oh, is your back hurting again abuelito?" "I like to see you work is all" And Nacho would ignore him while he works, but Lalo would be far too glad to comment with "This looks so heavy" "Oooh so strong Nachito" "nice view" "you forgot a screw there" "that's it, flex those big muscles of yours" Or he would do those same comments EXCEPT he's the one holding the plan and he refuses to let Nacho come take a look at it, he would love to describe what Nacho has to do next while pointing at what piece of wood he needs to use, give stupid description for the different kinds of screws/plastic stuff/wood pieces/etc, and "ah, they say you should be two person to build this. Well, I always thought you were a very capable man so I'm sure you'll do just fine." Anyway they always end up doing really great. They're both manual men after all

[gladstones-corner]

On Developing Your Own Tools

There's something to be said for getting to that point in your practice where you decide to try your hand at making your own tools.

I think most of us (myself included) purchase most of our tools, assuming they aren't gifted to us first. Very few of us modern magicians make everything from scratch.

And for good reason! The craftsmanship that some books assume you have is insane--even buying a dagger and affixing a new handle is daunting for many people. Forget altering chalices and turning wands. Hell, painting your pentacle is probably the easiest, and I asked my wife to wood-burn mine.

But there's a tool I came across in some of the Ciceros' writings. It's called the Outer Order Wand of Double Power.

Mouthful, right?

Basically it's a 20-inch wooden dowel (of whatever thickness); one half is painted white, the other is painted black. The idea is that you use the black side for banishing and the white side for invoking.

While it's a genius tool for those who don't, won't, or can't have daggers and the like for their magical workings, I have some problems with it.

First, it's twenty inches. That's not portable in any sense of the word. It's that long because you want ten inches for each side to match the number of Sephiroth on the Tree of Life on each side of the wand.

Second, there's no real comfortable way to hold it. You have to hold the white side while using the black side, and vice-versa. You could hold the same end you're using, but the balance is off.

So, I made my own version, which I still use today for various workings.

Again, I want to say that I no longer practice ceremonial magic, so the exact meanings behind the construction of my version of this wand are not relevant anymore. Still though, I'll include them to indicate the thought process.

I took a 10-inch dowel to begin with. 10 inches for 10 Sephiroth. I painted the whole thing gray to begin with. Then, I measured 3 inches from each end and taped them off. I painted one of the 3-inch end sections white, the other black.

What I was left with is a wand that looks suspiciously like those stage magician wands you see all the time--you know, the black one with white caps? Let me paint a picture for you:

But here's why I chose these numbers. There are 3 Sephiroth on the Pillar of Mercy (the white side of the wand). There are 3 Sephiroth on the PIllar of Severity (the black side of the wand). There are 4 Sephiroth on the Middle Pillar (the middle gray part of the wand).

The version I tend to use today does not use the 3-4-3 proportion, as--again--I don't practice ceremonial magic anymore.

It is 12 inches, with 2 inch caps for aesthetic purposes. I just like the idea that together, the black and white sections are still half the length of the gray section. That's a good proportion.

Another good proportion would be 1-2-1, essentially meaning your white and black portions equal your gray portion in perfect balance.

The benefits of this...let's call it...Polarity Wand over the Outer Order Wand are that it's smaller and easier to wield.

Transitioning from a hard length to a proportional one means you can scale the wand to a variety of sizes for any need.

Using a gray section in the middle also creates a neutral color channel that the magician can rest their hand on, allowing them to focus their energy better through either end.

If you choose to make one yourself, please let me know which proportions you use--I'd love to see what you choose and why.

Blessed be~

[orangetintedglasses]

"Is this really it?"

The device around his wrist fit snugly and securely without biting into his skin or cutting off blood flow to his hand; only about the size of a decently chunky wristwatch even with the extra bits of material that climbed up his wrist and just barely touched his forearm. It wasn't exactly the most subtle, but it was something he could easily cover with the sleeve of his coat, and Vash fiddled with it while he waited for an answer, feeling cowed by the silence from the only other person in the room whose back was turned to him.

"Yes. This is the optimal size and shape for traversing dimensional tears-- something compact and easy to conceal won't provoke as many questions... your normal attire will likely do that just fine." said the Sinner flatly, without tearing his eyes away from the keyboard and screens. Vash always found that impressive and a little creepy-- though the flurry of fingers over keys did briefly pause. "Were you expecting something flashier?"

"No, just..." he trailed off, looking at his reflection in the face of the device. Easy enough controls scheme, haptic buttons on the scren to save space, a radar system attuned to the energy signature tears give off... "it's strange that everything fits into something this small, you know? This can really send me back and forth?"

"Not instantaneously, no. There's the initial setup time, recalibration if you need it... and of course, once you initiate a jump in either direction, it'll need a good amount of time to recharge." the man turned to face him, now, his sharp features and cobalt-colored eyes hauntingly lit by the light of the screens beside him. He continued.

"It's equipped with an adaptable energy source that can draw in and convert the naturally occurring energy in any location you wind up in." he gestured to the device. "Full recharge for a safe jump will take about two days, give or take the potency of that world's energy. In a pinch, though... you are also completely capable of powering it, should the need arise."

That made Vash's stomach twist, head snapping up in alarm, "me? You... you mean, my--"

He cut him off, "though I'd recommend this only in emergencies. I believe your guardians would have my head if you came back with hair like mine."

Black. He meant black-- the same color as the Sinner's long, pin-straight locks, and the color of the small tuft of his own hair, blossoming out from the back of his head. He made a mental note of that, swallowing and nodding. The Sinner seemed pleased with that response and turned back towards the screens, hitting a few more buttons in a seemingly specific sequence. Activating it, apparently, as the screen on the device lit up, too.

"It should be fully attuned to this dimension's energy any minute now, though I recommend waiting for at least twenty-four hours before attempting a jump. Any other questions?"

"N-no, I got it. Thank you, Doctor Somerset."

"You're welcome. Come to me if there are any problems or odd finds related to traversing dimensions."

[augment-techs]

Moving my ask. I think it was 26 or 15 and Lord Drakkon/Coinless Jason. It had to do with erotic branding or marking/claiming ownership. Just putting thus in the correct spot lol

There was a gallon sized pickle jar, in the fridge in Drakkon's old bedroom in the palace, full of blood kept fresh and clean to add to his food, a condiment for eggs and meats instead of barbecue or Tabasco.

There were flash-frozen packets in the freezer marked with words like 'liver' and 'thigh meat' and 'rump'--that last one having a disgustingly innocent little heart tacked on in the corner--without a trace of freezer burn, and another packet that looked like the liver that was half-eaten; a little note taped to the side that read 'use with dirty rice instead of chopped cauliflower; very rare'.

When Kimberly closed the door to the fridge, she really took the moment to read the little recipes posted on a notepad that was taped to the top of the fridge that only came up to her chest, wondering about the measurements, but also about the timetables attached that didn't seem to make a lot of sense...

She considered the words with the same levels of trepidation that she did with everything involving the fucker, who now sat in a room not terribly unlike the one he'd stored Jason in for years on end, (except his had one glass window and was all white; the very best kind of fuck you that had been inadvertent, but savored by literally everyone else). The feeling of something creeping up on her, like a little girl in a dark forest, a hard thing to shake off.

'Can't take too much blood; have to wait another week. Anemia causes loss of potency,' and, 'Maybe give J. some of the skin from the thighs at our next dinner,' and 'Infection. Need to wait until the whole course for treatment plays out. Might try another option, even if none of them taste right.'

And so the terrible handwriting continued on, not a lot of it making sense to Kimberly as she thumbed through; tips of her fingers feeling the indentations where Drakkon had pressed down too hard in something like anger and the pen spurted and blotched the ink.

Until she pulled all the paper up and found a collective of pictures there, in almost stylized black and white with a little pinch of other colors edited in, sort of like models used for headshots she remembered from when she was maybe ten and her mother thought she would do just as well in the pageant circuit as in gymnastics (before her parents realized that it would make their squabbling and inability to be in the same room as each other for a prolonged period of time especially apparent; gossip being poison for them before they moved to Angel Grove and made it a hobby).

The first one was Jason, haggard and maybe in his early twenties in the clothes he'd been placed in while in solitary confinement in the bowels of the castle prison where the softest thing he could touch was stone and his iron shackles, seated on the bed he'd been given, now in the highest room in the tower Drakkon built especially and just for him. He was so thin, his five o'clock shadow a mess, his hair greasy and washed out, and he looked downright pissed to be made to sit like a pet, but also like something was keeping him back from attacking the bastard. His eyes were fixed behind Drakkon with the camera, but Kim couldn't tell anything beyond that. There were no reflective surfaces in that cloistered set of rooms; Jason largely having to rely on Drakkon or what could have been called friends (something Kim still wasn't sure about; Jason had asked for them often enough when he'd been let out, but had also been cautious around them and..sort of sad) in Skull and Adam when it came to his appearance.

The second picture was dated a year later on the front in overly curled scrawl with a sloppy pen; Jason in the exact same spot, but with the light coming in from the window without bars, without glass, with only one way out. He looked almost like his old self, much stronger and clean and practically perfect but for the fake smile he was aiming at the camera in an attempt to play seductive and submissive; and of course Drakkon had made sure to take away all of his clothes for this shot, really get a look at the defined and healthy skin and muscle that he, doubtless, jacked off to more often than not.

The pictures after that was more posed, still on the bed and Jason still not wanting to do this in the eyes of anyone with a basic sense of decency, but Kimberly was brought to think very much of old ads made for Marilyn Monroe for movies where she was still dressed, but was little more than an empty headed bimbo that the executives of Hollywood loved thinking of her as. Though with Jason, Drakkon made sure that there was no clothing and he was displayed in every lewd way the tyrant could think of: propped up on his knees with his hands wrapped in striking red ribbons behind his back; curled around an oversized rabbit plushy as if half asleep and very sweaty from what the camera light gleaned off of him; standing with his arms holding onto a sheet hanging from the ceiling, his right hip on full display to show an ever present bite mark from Drakkon's own mouth that was constantly being reopened.

The last pictures at the bottom gave her pause, courage suddenly hesitant, and sent something curdled and heavy into the pit of her stomach.

More set up, more in order, less wild than Jason in his first picture, was Skull in his Red Sentry Captain's uniform, sans the helmet, standing straight and tall in what looked like a bathroom brought about in the palace; one of Drakkon's luxury suites for visiting warlords and despots and demons; one hand on his lance, and one perched on the shoulder of Adam Park. Adam seated on the rim of the expensive looking tub, in Black Sentry uniform, also sans helmet; legs crossed in an attempt to look proper, with his hands together in his lap. Both looking…resigned. Straight ahead like they were ordered to, and tired.

Bulk had shown Kim old history books with pictures as such; Russian Czars and empresses, Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, those little princes locked in the Tower of London before vanishing in the night.

She couldn't stop her hands from shaking as she finally lifted them up to see the final photo, slightly bigger than the others, and more wrinkled and worn at the edges from continued adjustments.

...After Kim muscled her way into not vomiting down between her feet and onto the cold floor, she was left with a sort of memory of when her parents took her to a museum for a little bit of culture and could not help but draw comparisons between two works of art and the plight of the two who were, apparently, just as much captives of Drakkon as Jason ever was. Kim was left struck, insanely, by how much Eugene looked rather like John Sargent's masterpiece of Madame X; pale figure, smooth continence, extremely dark hair and altogether gorgeous under the sight of the artist themself. Except that woman in the portrait could not be further from undergoing the ministrations placed upon the spy. Drakkon had taken care to highlight and edit in just how RED Eugene's blood was against the marble white of the inside of the tub he'd been placed in, limbs limp and unmoving, and eyes glassy with what had to have been unending agony without the reprieve of medication or even basic drugs to numb him to the cutting. As for Adam (oh, and now she could understand why he seemed to stay so close to him even now, both sheepdogs with a bit of wolf blood or witch hares out in the open and watching out for weak sheep and rabbits against the snapping teeth of a dragon), Kim was still reminded of grand art in gilded frames. Something of a Titian portrait sprung to mind, a showcase of a Greek myth in which a very pompous satyr challenged the god Apollo to a music contest and lost, thereby losing his life by being flayed alive by the god and other satyrs as some mortal king looked on with interest.

Except there was no joy in what Adam was being made to do, hand much steadier than Kim's would have been as he stood on his knees over the tub, a pale imitation of the Dragon Dagger in hand as he sliced a mortician's incision in Eugene's skin, pulling back the edges like a pale wrap to see the pulsing insides.

There was a metal tray off to the side of the tub, stainless steel and with a China plate with stenciled golden flowers on it, holding pieces of extremely dark meat at the center, also edited to show the almost purple hue trailing blood drops that had landed on Eugene's cheek.

And apart from all of these grotesques, Kim's brown eyes had grown almost black with a little ring of dark Pink each as she zeroed in on the finger mark bruises ringed around both men's necks, a ring around Adam's that looked like black paint as his spare hand carefully pressed down just above Eugene's beating heart; and what looked to be dozens of bite marks all along Eugene that hadn't just settled against the skin like they had with Jason. Drakkon had bitten into Eugene and yanked. Her mind did her no favors, reminding her of the sound Drakkon sometimes made when he took a mouthful of rich meat and swallowed.

Putting the pictures back down with every part of her wanting to run away from the room as fast as she could, Kimberly could also not help but stand rooted to the spot, blankly staring at the fridge that had just moments earlier seemed to be entirely harmless, but as she took in frightened little rabbit breaths, seemed more like a collection of all the world's poison and disasters.

And then there was a memory…