#this train is. so fucking long? the cars feel like HEAVY RAIL CARS. IN WHAT WORLD IS THIS LIGHT RAIL

[natugood]

Denver light rail feel like heavy rail, like damn these trains are big

[namujoon9401]

More kitty yoon content

Kitty! Yoongi x fem! Reader

The train is packed, common for the evening commute.

They’re forced to stand together, holding onto the rails nearly chest to chest in the chokingly full train car.

The space between them is warm, the air swampy with body heat and the early summer humidity that the a/c can only battle against.

“God, its crowded in here. Wanna see if we can switch cars?” She asks.

“Don’t bother.” He grumbles, black cat ear flicking in irritation. “Too much moving around. Besides, its rush hour. It’s probably like this in all the cars.”

There’s a small respite when the train stops and lets a few people out. They finally have room to breathe.

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something but pauses, licking his lips as he sniffs the air, then again, closer to her.

“You smell good.” His voice is raspy, pupils suddenly dilated in a way that makes her face heat.

“What? No way. I stink. It’s hot out.” She looks confused, sniffing absently at her shirt.

She’s sure she stinks, or at least doesn’t smell good. It’s been a long day, her temples are shiny with sweat, and she doesn’t remember if she reapplied deodorant.

“‘S a hybrid thing. You won’t be able to tell.” He murmurs.

He sniffs at her shirt, more boldly now, then nuzzles at her neck.

Oh.

The more intimate aspects of their relationship is still new, Yoongi’s hybrid quirks still catching her off guard from time to time.

Like now, where Yoongi is actively nuzzling into her neck, lips parting to get a taste, a purr bubbling up in his throat, and she has to fight back a squeak because-

He grabs her arm where she holds the subway pole, rubbing at the inside of her wrist.

Yoongi kisses, feather-light, down the column of her throat, tongue peeking out to lap at the sweat there, and it takes everything in her not to toss her head back and let him ravish her.

“Yoongi-” she’s suddenly breathless, the air between them charged with electricity, so thick it feels like wading through honey.

“Smells good.”

His voice is deep, nearly a growl, his eyes hooded and dark, and-

Fuck.

How can she resist?

She grabs the back of his head and drags him into a kiss.

It’s immediately bold, her mouth opening for him as he kisses her, firm and wet and hungry. They breathe each other in, the rest of the world falling away even as they kiss on this dingy subway.

The taste of his mouth is indescribable, something delicious she can’t quite name.

He licks into her mouth insistently, nipping at her lip and soothing it again with his tongue. She feels like she’s drowning in his warmth, kissing him hungrily and trying to communicate every single feeling through her mouth.

She gasps against his lips, the hybrid lapping into her mouth like he can’t get enough of her, like she’s the last water in the desert.

He’s growling softly, the rumble in his chest growing louder as they kiss.

His hand drops her wrist and goes to her face, stroking her cheek and gripping at her jaw as he kisses her, deep and heavy and drinking.

He pulls away with a wet noise, sudden and unexpected.

His eyes are dark, lips kissed red and mouth slack, panting hard as he just looks at her.

Someone whistles.

[lovelauradee]

So, I am an American who had a business trip in Britain so I flew into London for a meeting and met some friends for a few days in the city after. The next week, our client wanted us to meet down at his place in Bath, and perhaps take us to Stonehenge after we concluded our business so that following Sunday, I hopped on a train south.

I had a private room on the train and not long after we departed, we stopped again at a random stop I can’t recall. I went to the bathroom as other passengers boarded, helping a cute brunette up the stairs to board the train. We passed some words, and she gave me a brief devious smile and called me a gentleman before complaining that she is dreading sitting next to some stranger in the main car that is likely to hit on her and make inappropriate comments.

I told her I had a roomette and that she was welcome to join me. I won’t bore you with the details but we spoke about life, literature, kids, and pretty quickly, talking turned to some heavy flirting.

She then told me that not facing the direction the train was moving might make her a bit light headed so she moved to sit beside me. She instinctively placed her hand on my leg, spreading her leg slightly, subtly inviting me to place my hand on her inner thigh.

Just then, the train attendant came to check our tickets as the train departed, we scrambled for our receipts awkwardly as if being caught in some act even though it was completely innocent. Feeling the weight of the moment and relief when he left, we immediately started kissing, her hand gripping my cock over my pants and my fingers massaging her pussy over her panties that were quickly becoming soaked with her juices. Her hand started desperately pulling at my belt and zipper, and she slid off her seat and put herself on her knees before as she pulled out my hard cock. Without hesitation, she started sucking and licking my cock from base to tip like a woman possessed, desperate to take and taste my cum flooding her mouth.

Instead, I lifted her up, threw her into the opposite bench, lifted her legs up, ripped off her panties and began to slowly but methodically devour her gorgeous little pussy. Her legs were shaking and her juices were flooding my mouth. She kept moaning and telling me she wanted to feel me inside her as she came in my face.

After she had cum, she told me she wanted my cock inside her. Her tone got serious, she asked me again if I had kids and if I came to the UK often. I said “no” to both and she replied, “good…I want you to put a baby inside me, then leave and never speak to me again”.

I told her I would fuck her and fill her with seed if that’s what she wanted but, since she already had a man, that a baby wasn’t necessary. She said “no, I want a fucking another baby, and I want it to be yours.”

With that, I grabbed her by the throat and forced my thick cock into her tight little pussy, resulting in her legs quaking again as she let out a moan of ecstasy and relief. We fucked all over the roomette, at one point stopping at another stop, her hand planted against the window and her mouth gapping as I pounder her from behind. The faces of people on the platform was one of awe as they saw her getting railed.

Neither of us cared who saw us, so we kept fucking and she came multiple times on my cock, gasping at me to give her a baby each time.

Finally, I lifter her up, sat back on the bench and let her slide down my shaft and ride my cock. She rolled her hips, insatiably milking my cock while whispering to me, “yes, give it to me. Give me all of it.” My shaft began to throb and convulse, and I looked up at her sweaty brow and she looked back at me with that devious smile as she felt me fill her with seed.

Seconds later, we had just gotten some of our clothes back on when we heard a knock at the door again. We invited the attendant to open the door as we sat by one another again, this time looking sweaty and exhausted but fully clothed as if nothing had happened.

He said that he received a complaint about noise and stopped by to see if everything was okay. We smiled, told him all was well as we all seemed to look at her panties on the floor at the same time.

Not long after, she sucked me back to hard, and we fucked again, this time, I held my hand over her mouth as I pumped her full of seed. The ride seemed to fly by as we laughed, fondled one another, and fucked…each time unloading inside her.

Before we departed, we exchanged numbers. For better or worse, she was not ovulating so we never had a baby, but we exchanged info and decided to keep up in case I came back to the UK so we could try again. She eventually told me she had a tumblr, and here she is.

This sweet little brunette you all follow and lust over, lovelauradee, is exactly the charming, gorgeous, and cum needy little slut you think she is.

I’m sure she remembers…

This may have definitely happened ;)

[hush-writes-preg]

As the months fly by my visits become more and more frequent. Sometimes we don’t even make love, I just talk about my cravings and how the babies are doing. You find out my name is Alex and I’m carrying your twins, and more so, that I’ve been developing a strong crush on you. By my due date, I’m more waiting for you than I am seeking you out. I’m so heavy, I can barely walk half the time, but I still make my way to your train as often as I can.

Even though I’m about to pop, will you still have me?

-🚂

My apologies for the delay, Train Anon!  Life got a little crazy there for a while, but I wanted to be able to give this the attention it deserves. ❤️❤️❤️ So here you are! 

(Previous asks in this series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3)

I've never regretted working on long-distance trains, for I haven't really been interested in settling in one place for long when I could be reveling in the freedom of travelling wherever the rails might take me instead.  I lived for my job, for the casual relationships, for no one but myself, honestly.  And for years, that was good enough for me.

But I was starting to wonder if that was enough. 

I guess I had you to blame for that, Alex.  I'd never planned on being a father, but that hadn't stopped me from fucking you bareback more time than I could count, until the day you showed up with a faint baby bump and an unspoken question.  Would I continue our liaison, or would I switch lines and leave you behind as nothing more than a pleasant memory? 

I hadn't answered when we parted ways yet again, but I think the sight of me waiting for you in the dining car a few weeks later was all the answer you needed.  

We still found plenty of excuses to make love during your visits, but we found a surprising amount of time to talk, too.  I learned so much more about you than I ever expected, and you even shared details about your pregnancy with me.  You told me about your odd cravings and your ultrasounds as you curled up against my side during late evenings spent in your cabin, and I couldn't help but feel like there's something more going on.  That your feelings for me were changing, but instead of being spooked by the thought, I found myself… strangely content.

When you showed me the first sonogram of our twins (!), I was left speechless.  We made those two little beans on the photo, and they were growing larger and larger inside of you every day.  In some ways it didn't seem real.  What were we going to do about them once they came?  What would we do about whatever-this-was between us?

But you didn't ask those questions, so I didn't try to answer.

With your due date on the horizon, I almost expected you to disappear again, but you still managed to show up with your fetching waddle and enormous belly.  I was reminded of the first night we met-- the way your eyes had glanced over me with barely-concealed heat, and the way your clothing had clung to curves exaggerated by your advanced pregnancy.  So shy yet so needy, but still eager to be touched and pleasured.  After helping you take your bag to your cabin, I asked you if there was anything else I could help you with.

You smiled and nodded, your fingers tentatively moving towards the buttons on the shirt straining to contain your pregnant belly, at least until I pushed them away and took over.  I wanted to unwrap you myself.

So unwrap you I did, easing you out of your clothes and helping to settle you back on the bed with much more care than we usually took.  My mouth kissed a path along the dome of your abdomen while my hands caressed and stroked, moving lower, lower, lower, until finally I could close my lips around your arousal while my fingers nudged inside.  You tasted like heaven, the sounds you made sounded like music, though sadly your bulging middle kept me from seeing your face.  But I didn't mind as long as I could feel you tremble and jerk against me, until I finally sent you soaring over the edge with a clever twist of my fingers and flick of my tongue. 

When I eventually arose from between your orgasm-limp thighs, licking the flavor of you from the corners of my mouth, I realized how absolutely shattered you looked.  Like you couldn't believe that I'd want you like that, especially then, when you so close to giving birth. 

But the sight of you nude and spread across the bed with our babies shifting within your womb was the closest thing to divinity that I figured I'd ever see, and I wanted to worship at your altar. 

So worship you I did well into the night, losing myself in the wonder of your body as I showered you with attention and praise.  I lost count of the number of times I felt you fall apart in my arms as the train gently rocked us.  And the memory of you clenching around me as I spooned you and entered you from behind that last time felt like it would be forever engraved on my soul.

It's getting harder and harder to let you walk away from me, Alex.  But I'll keep working on this line, so if you ever decide to return, know that I'll be here, ready to do my best to take care of all your needs.

[ameasureofseperation]

Kal is very sweet. He's kind and quick to laugh and he takes joy in most things. Buttercup knows he's been around Salvation for a while now, but their paths never quite crossed before. And now that they have-

Buttercup's not sure how to define it. They kiss and they smile at each other and he offers to buy her drinks at the inn, and not just the alcoholic ones. They're both Scavengers and they have jobs to do, but the whole town is working on recovering from the attack so it's not exactly like there's too many people looking to venture back out into the Grey any time soon.

So she has time to just be about town, and run into him when he's around.

Even when he's busy he always seems happy when she runs into him.

She's not sure what word she should use in her head to describe him. He's not a 'teammate' or a 'co-worker', but 'friend' doesn't seem to fit quite right either. 

He’s handsome. And strong. He can actually hold her up with just one arm (it’s not a skill unique to him, but it’s very appealing all the same). He brings her things. He gives her little trinkets, like the ones she wears on her necklaces. Odd claws and bobbles and shiny rocks and even flowers. Somehow he found flowers somewhere around Salvation. And then he gave them to her.

It’s not like he needs to do any of that. She’s not an expensive date, nor has she ever been the type to play hard-to-get. 

If anything, she’s usually been the one having to sweeten the deal. To pay extra for service, to promise that she’d leave out the backdoor, or that she’d be gone again on a ship the next morning.

The more she thinks about it, the less she’s sure of what to make of this thing with Kal.

He calls her beautiful one night, when the lanterns have burned low around the tavern. She doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He carries on with what he was saying about the building he’s being paid to help haul lumber to for repairs. 

That word sits in her gut, heavy and not mixing well with her ale.

Beautiful.

Oh, she thinks, he’s lying. He's been lying.

And it hurts, but it makes more sense to her. She’s not sure what his game is, she’s willing to keep sleeping with him as long as he’s game for it. But maybe… maybe he likes the sound of the lie too. 

There’s not a lot of young women in Salvation, even less that socialize with many people outside of their teams and contacts. It makes sense that he’d want to be fucking a beautiful woman. So it makes sense he’d want to say it as much as he’d want her to hear it.

This thing with him has a clearer shape to her now. And that settles something in her.

It settles like a knife in the chest, but it settles.

Sarge and the rest start talking about going to Sharn and Buttercup jumps at the idea. They want to go to get some up-tight fucks to look at the fucking trouble magnet oracle thing-a-ma-jig, but she finds she doesn’t even care. For the first time since the war ended, she finds the prospect of leaving Salvation a lot more appealing than staying.

She tells Kal that her team is leaving. He seems sad, and tells her as much, but also wishes her good fortune and success. 

They sleep together for the last time that night. And when she gets up to leave the next morning, he asks her for a lock of her hair. To put it in a locket. To keep a piece of her close. If she doesn’t mind, of course.

She says yes.

It feels like that knife in her chest twists. Her hair’s not normal, but it’s also probably the least monstrous part of her. Plenty of other folk have oddly colored hair. She thinks of it later, when they are already on the train heading away from the ever-present wall of the Grey.

If he had asked for a scale- or a tooth or a claw, hell even the tip of a horn- it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. Yes, pulling or cutting off a scale would have physically hurt, but then she wouldn’t be sitting there feeling like her whole chest has been hollowed out.

As the landscape zips by the windows of the lightning rail car, she wonders how long it will take Kal to find someone else to call beautiful.

And she wonders if he'll actually mean it.

[sukirichi]

sweet lies [03.final]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. toxic! megumi, SEXY TOXIC MEGUMI 🥵, toxic college settings, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, explicit smut, car sex, biting, scratching, sukuna is a sex god, MEGUMI WITH A LIP RING, slight angst

note. FINALLY FINISHED THIS SERIES AAAAHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WITH THIS SERIES TYSM FOR EVERYTHING! lotsa lub lub for each and everyone of you! anyways let me just say...sweet lies sukuna can politely rail me.

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

It’s…a different story when you have to move back and forth between your newly made acquaintance slash fuck buddy, Sukuna, to your actual fuck buddy and crush, Megumi.

Sukuna’s polite enough to not meddle into your business as he’s promised, which you’re extremely thankful for, but you should’ve known the bubble of happiness would pop the moment you stepped out of your apartment. You’ve left your phone unattended and on silent, earbuds always placed inside to ignore Megumi’s calls.

It’s funny, actually, that he’s never replied much to you before other than occasional dick pic and ‘you awake baby?’ but ever since you’ve been…pre-occupied, suddenly you’re on top of his contacts.

You grumble at the vibration of your phone, Megumi’s name flashing on the screen. Back then, you would’ve soared and jumped to pick up the call, voice sultry and toes pointed at the ceiling as you try to keep in your giggles. Now, you’re dreading it, glaring at his annoyingly handsome contact icon that used to make your heart skip a beat. You’re studying in the library and have been doing a terrific job at avoiding him so far, and today won’t be any different.

With a sigh, you completely flip your phone upside down and turn back to your book. You’re on the second line of the paragraph when you feel large, warm hands caress the back of your neck, tilting you upwards to meet his curious – and certainly annoyed – blue eyes.

“Babe,” Megumi drawls out, minty breath fanning your cheeks.

He looks absolutely stunning today, plain and casual yet so handsome in just a black hoodie and sweatpants, his dark hair slicked back to reveal his forehead. For a guy who sure pounded into your skill he had no interest in you that went beyond sexual, he sure did know you well enough, the slight tugging of his lips a sign he could easily read through you. It makes you huff away from him, scooting – trying is the keyword – away from his touch. Megumi’s persistence leads him into you placing you right above his lap and cages you between his arms, chin on your shoulder and his breath floating over your ear.

You can’t help but squirm in embarrassment. Half of the students in the campus library have turned to look at you, and Megumi merely smiles at the attention, audacious enough to kiss the shell of your ear.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him! In reality, you really do want to fuck him.

“Why have you been ghosting me?”

“I wasn’t ghosting you, Megumi, it’s called being busy. You ever tried doing homework?”

“You’re so mean to me today,” he pouts, but that pout soon brightens into a smile when you scowl at him. Megumi, albeit never really paying attention to you, your facial expressions have registered as second nature to him now. It doesn’t take much before you soften under his hold, still as mushy as ever, and the nasty fucker basks in it proudly. “There’s a party tonight at Okkotsu’s house, said his parents were away in Greece or some rich family shit. Wanna come and get wasted with me?”

“I don’t know, Megs, I have an essay to finish…”

“Come on, it’s just one night. It won’t hurt,” he shrugs and sways you to side to side, causing your heart to sway side to side in giddiness. It’s this – moments like this – that really fools you into believing Megumi likes you. And that sweet lie only turns sweeter from his words that drip like honey, “Plus, I’ve missed you. Can’t think straight when we’ve been apart for too long, baby.”

You pretend to think about it.

That slight falter in a split second brings about a waver in Megumi’s confident you didn’t think would be possible. Not that you can blame him; you never did have to think about it whenever he invites you to fuck around with him. In fact, you say yes a lot faster than he can ask you something, but something’s been changing you lately – or rather someone.

In the end though, you’ll circle up right where you belong.

Relishing in the rarity of having Megumi coddle you with kisses and affection, his perfume still as boyish and vanilla that deluded you into his faux aura of a sweet boy, you melt one more time. Hopefully, it would transition into a one last time before Megumi’s completely wrapped you around his finger.

“Fine. I’m leaving if it’s too noisy though.”

“Awesome,” Megumi chirps, pulling you in for a long, solid kiss. It takes you back by surprise that you end up wide-eyed above him, stiff hands on his shoulders as you feel him smile through the kiss. Then, just as you’re about to kiss him back with the same passion, Megumi separates himself from you and squeezes your ass. “Promise we’ll have fun, babe. I’ll even bring extra condoms.”

You’re not surprised he left afterwards.

But are you hurt? Most definitely so.

Fuck Fushiguro Megumi.

You were going to leave him, block him, ignore him, avoid him, and carve him out of your heart for good. It’s what you deserve – to be freed from such a toxic guy like him. His pretty face shouldn’t be an excuse for you stick around any longer. That party…well, it would be your last one, you’re never going back!

Still, it’s not that easy to let go. Years of following him around with puppy eyes and spreading your legs open for him like it’s the most natural thing to do isn’t just going to disappear in a day.

It’s for closure, you lie to yourself. That’s all it is – you just need closure. So for one last time, you’ll fuck around with Megumi, then you’d leave him. For good this time.

And yet – your mind still races back to him. His throaty, boyish laughter and the stupid way his eyes crinkle into half moons, his large hands slapping his knees when you tell him a really silly joke. Okay, he didn’t really laugh that much because he’s already passed out in the times you crack jokes after sex, but the few times he did, though? It’s magical, beautiful, phenomenal.

He’s so awful yet so irresistibly charming it’s a huge tug of war between your rational mind and foolish heart.

You couldn’t focus anymore in the library. If you wanted to pass your exams, you need to be somewhere that won’t remind you of him, in a place where a stronger aroma would conceal his lingering scent. The best option was to hang around in a local café closer to your apartment than on campus, and you’ve completely ditched your usual get up to just opting for lookinglike a complete shut in – bags under eyes, heart torn over a stupid boy, the usual Iced Vanilla Latte with the condensation sticking to the wooden table and soft lofi music playing in the background – it’s just the perfect atmosphere for you to wallow in self-pity.

And wallow in self-pity you did, your cheeks squished against the pale furniture while you sighed for what seems like the hundredth time that day. At the back of your head, Megumi is still giving you one of those slow, long kisses reserved for only when he’s half-sleepy, your heart doing insane back flips as you reminisced whatever moments you once had.

You’re so lost in your own train of thought you fail to hear the scraping of a chair, followed by a heavy body plopping across you. “Well, this is kind of gloomy…”

At the sound of that awfully familiar, deep voice, you sit up straight in a frenzy. Sukuna smirks at your reaction as he loudly sips from his matcha latte – which you would’ve never thought he likes – and sits back at his chair, legs crossed against one another. Unlike Megumi, he doesn’t seem to pose any other malicious intent, so you bury your head in your arms, wishing for the ground to just open up and eat you already.

“I’m sleep deprived and haven’t eaten anything except Red Bull and coffee,” you try to explain, “I look horrible.”

“Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous all the time.”

From under your arms, you scowl at nowhere in particular, ignoring the heat rushing from the back of your neck. Sukuna didn’t seem to be flirting with you, and one peek at him swirling his straw inside his cup proves your theories.

However, the offhanded compliment falls so naturally from his lips it takes you a back, and not in a good way. Defensively, you cross your arms against your chest. You knock your toes against Sukuna’s knees under the knees to get his attention, the taller man peering at you under his lashes, tongue innocently swirling around his straw.

I fucking hate men! – is what you want to say, but something different comes out. “Why are you even here? Aren’t you asleep in the morning because of work?”

“It’s my day off,” he sets his cup down, placing his chin on both of his palms. Sukuna’s gaze travels from your face down to the abandoned papers before you, a scowl immediately making its way to his face.  “Got too bored to cook so I came here for a light snack. As for you…ew, are you doing essays? I hated that shit in college.”

“Yeah, I hate it too,” you numbly agree, “Can barely function right now.”

Sukuna’s eyes lit up the moment you nearly fall on the table again, his palm quick to caress your cheek. If he can feel the intense heat of your skin from the sudden gesture, he makes no comment about it. Instead, Sukuna hauls you from your seat, nodding to your bag and papers before he rushes you out the door.

When Sukuna said he could make you feel better, the last thing you thought of was going to the nearby park. Now, you find yourself sitting comfortably with him, aggressively licking on the vanilla ice cream he’d gotten you from an ice cream man that passed by. It’s a great way to kill the time – or just to enjoy the day despite the rough start – because the sunlight feels warm on your skin, the trees above you shading you from extra shade.

Next to you, Sukuna is surveying his ice cream with the least interest, his brows furrowed as he notes, “Your crush is toxic. I suggest you cut ties with him and get it all over with.”

In part of making you feel better, Sukuna’s subtly given you clues you could tell him whatever’s going on in your mind. It makes you wonder if maybe you’ve been that obvious that even Sukuna could read you, but you’re thankful that he understood, because you really did want to rant about it. Your friends are just a one call away, but they’re not any better. They’ll keep claiming ‘Megumi just needs time’ because they know it’s what you want to hear to make yourself feel better. Though, every once in a while, you needed to talk to someone who could actually slap the harsh reality at your face, and who else would be more suitable than a mature adult like Sukuna?

Looking at him now, the contrast between your roommate and your crush is immense. Where Megumi is all bark and no bite, all needy and never giving, Sukuna’s silent and compliant, an extremely good listener with the patience of a monk.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Yeah it is. Just block his number and avoid him. He’ll get the answer soon enough.”

“You don’t understand,” you groan in defeat. Sukuna faces you with worry written all over his face, seemingly tender in comparison to the tattoos marking his skin. Sometimes, it’s so easy to forget he’s actually a lot more decent than Fushiguro fucking Megumi, but you end up slipping anyway, turning to the sky just as tears prick at your eyes. “I…I love him, okay? I’ve always been in love with him even though I know I’m just someone who warms his bed. I know that much and yet…I can’t seem to let him go.”

Sukuna is silent for a full minute. You thought he’ll offer you some adult wisdom only people like him would now, but Sukuna simply snorts, happily licking at his ice cream as if you didn’t just break down in front of him. “Shit’s tough then.”

“You’re great at comforting, you know that?”

“Oh, I wasn’t comforting you,” he smiles and pats your knee, “Come on, let’s go home. I know just how to take your mind off things.”

With the way he’s caressing your thigh and his voice turned an octave lower, you chastise yourself for feeling aroused when you wanted to cry just seconds ago. But his fingers are inching closer and closer to your inner thigh, and he’s warm and strong – so fucking nice too that perhaps fucking him wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

But like always, Sukuna never fails to surprise you.

You expected he’d take you right to his room the moment you’ve crossed the door, but Sukuna dashes for the TV before carrying a huge blanket and heaps of pillow. You watch there, stunned. He makes quick work of fluffing the pillows before grabbing your wrist and pulling you above him the same way Megumi did a while ago.

The only difference? Your heart doesn’t skip a beat. You’re not intoxicated by his scent. You’re not trying to squirm away from him nor do you feel like a silly little schoolgirl who’s fallen in love at first sight.

Where Megumi is deceivingly charming, Sukuna is more like a strong pillar to lean on, which you do exactly. Your head rests on his shoulder, both of your legs tangled under the blankets he’s covered you with. He’s blinking as Tangled plays on the TV, the faint sensation of his fingers playing with yours comforting and way too comfortable. It should feel weird to hang out with a guy like this without him wanting to shove his dick deep inside you minutes later (your movie marathons with Megumi never really finish as previously planned) but with Sukuna?

It feels natural. It feels great. It feels like home.

You’re gaping at him long before you realize it, one of your hands absentmindedly playing with the strings of his hoodie. Sukuna hums along to I Have A Dream with a small smile on his face, one that forms into a playful glare as he catches you staring at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Disney is a classic.”

You fight back a smile. “Wasn’t complaining,” burying yourself deeper into his warm embrace, you’re lulled into an early slumber with Sukuna’s humming combined with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

His plan worked efficiently – for a moment, you forget your heart was aching to begin with.

After screaming internally for a good hour and a half, you arrive at the party anyway. The stench of weed, alcohol, and sex hanging thickly in the air is more than familiar to you by now. You ignore the catcalls you receive as you make your way to Megumi and fuck, he just had to look even sexier tonight.

He’s ditched his e-boy getup with a plain white shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a Converse, and that black leather jacket he always refused to wear. Megumi really woke up and chose violence today, the minimalistic silver chain around his neck only adding to his appeal. You should’ve run away then – he literally screams trouble – but you’ve never been one to shy from that. Truth be told, you’re only pulled in harder, swaying your hips side to side as you sashay to where he’s laughing along with his friends.

Clearing your throat to get his attention, Megumi finally lays his eyes on you.

You’re glad you took the extra time to dress in your best outfit today – a lace orange mini dress that accentuates your cleavage just enough for a tease, paired with black combat boots and a white purse slung from your shoulder. Pride pumps through your veins when Megumi steps away from his friends, his hands encircling around your waist almost possessively. He smirks through your hair, those addicting lips trailing lower and lower down to your neck until, “You smell like another man.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He doesn’t seem to be mad, perhaps a little jealous judging by how he’s grinding his crotch to your abdomen and tugs you closer, but this is Megumi in the question. He never gets jealous, so you flatten your palms onto his chest, eyes daring and red lips upturned into a smirk as you ask, “Why do you care?”

Megumi raises a brow – which really shouldn’t have been such a sexy thing – at your spunk. Normally, you’re too sweet and submissive to him, never would’ve even dared to dress something as revealing like this, but maybe you’re tired of being sweet.

Maybe this time, you wanted to match Megumi’s spice, fight fire with fire.

Megumi chuckles above your lips and swipes a thumb over your lower lip, humming when the coating doesn’t stain his fingers. He’s mentioned before he hates washing the lipstick off his dick, and the fact you remember that has him groaning at your ear. Unsurprisingly, Megumi’s already hard. He nibbles at the shell of your ear, possessive hands brushing over your collarbone as a silent promise of what he’ll be doing to you tonight.

“Like I said, this pussy is mine.”

You should say no. It’s evident in the darkness of his eyes he’s daring you to say no, but it’s too much. The cramped space that diminishes space until it becomes a myth, his hands rubbing circles at your hip, the glint of his new lip ring under the disco lights and anything, everything about Fushiguro Megumi just makes you feel so weak you can’t say no.

Satisfied with your silence, Megumi sweeps you upstairs. There’s already a round of Truth or Dare going on with a bunch of drunk and half-high college students, the lights red and the aroma of weed thick in the air.

It bothers you so you stick close to Megumi, nose stuck at the collar of his leather jacket. He’s not satisfied with just you sitting next to him; Megumi is territorial. He makes sure you’re comfy and using his lap like a throne, clasping both your hands in your lap while he boredly stares at his friends. Okkotsu Yuta, the host who used to be super shy in his freshman year but became one of the most sought after guys in his junior year, sits across from you in the circle. He’s already giggling in his drunken state while Nobara Kugisaki makes the mistake of choosing dare, flinging her bra straight at a very enthusiastic Yuuji.

They spin the bottle and it lands straight at you. Megumi hums in anticipation at the crook of your neck, his little sounds mixed with his heated touches sending fire straight down your core. It’s inebriating to have him this close, but you need to keep a straight head if you want to survive.

Fighting the arousal pooling at your stomach, you offer a flat smile. “Truth.” As expected, the crowd isn’t pleased. They holler, “Booooo,” with their hands cupped around their mouths, the others snickering at you, though you’re quite satisfied with the safety of your choice. You could be crazy with Megumi, but being crazy around others isn’t something you’re comfortable with.

Thankfully, Yuta shushes the crowd dramatically with a threat he’ll kick them out with his infamous Katana that’s been passed down by an ancestor. Once everyone’s calmed down, Yuta smirks at you, eyes wiggling as he asks, “Who’s the best dick you ever had?”

You don’t think twice about it. Someone else’s face pops up for a split second, but it’s so natural, so obvious that you would say – “Megumi.”

“Speak louder, baby, they won’t hear.”

“It’s you,” you suddenly grow shy at the attention, whatnot with Megumi shamelessly trailing hot kisses down your neck now for everyone to see. He’s shameless as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, all the while keeping eye contact with the other guys whose eyes are zeroed in on the swell of your breasts that are an inch away from popping out from your dress. It’s the best time to submit, the perfect time to give him what he wants, and his expert hands prompt his name out of you with a single suck at your neck.

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Damn, Megumi, you’ve trained your bitch well.”

“’Course I did. My dick does all the disciplining,” Megumi cups your jaw to tilt your face at him, cooing at you as you flush embarrassed from everyone’s snickering. “Aw, don’t pout baby, it’s all just harmless jokes. You know I treat you like a goddess when we’re alone.”

“Yo, man, get a fucking room!”

Megumi ignores Yuuji’s comments and makes an offhanded comment the latter is just jealous because he hasn’t had his dick wet in days, ensuing a close dog fight between the guys. Maki has to step in and kick the strawberry haired boy back to his seat, scolding her cousin to back down. Meanwhile, you cling to Megumi like a scaredy-cat, head empty with nothing but the way he’s never hold you this close and proudly before.

Just one last time.

“Megs, your turn.”

“Dare.”

Yuuji slaps his palm over Yuta who usually gives the dares. The older guy rolls his eyes but lets it slide, knowing that Yuuji could also let loose with his dares. Megumi isn’t afraid though, he stays docile around you, leaving little nibbles at your ear and even squeezing your boobs at one point. You know he’ll never back down from Yuuji’s dares, even as his eyes darken with mischief. Now, Yuuji is a nice guy, but something doesn’t quite feel right with the way he’s staring Megumi down.

“I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room.”

Megumi freezes.

Time must’ve stopped because everyone is chanting, “KISS, KISS, KISS!” but he makes no move. You stay there, staring up at him wide eyed with your arms looped around his neck. Your heart is beating a mile a minute in your chest the moment Megumi’s eyes gaze down to your lips, smirking as he leans closer, leans down lower, and you close your eyes, waiting for the salacious kiss that would sear at the back of your mind. But it never comes and a gust of wind flies by through you, and before you know it, Megumi’s leaned over your shoulder, his hand cupping the cheek of this girl named Alicia who you’ve heard about from your friends before that she’s Megumi’s current pick.

Alicia was never supposed to kiss him back. Your friends told you, they promised you she wasn’t the type of person to fall for the likes of Megumi, and yet she’s smiling through the kiss. You’re still in Megumi’s lap but your vision is of the audience, their jaws dropped and Yuuji slapping Yuta’s thighs. “Oh, shit! That’s gotta hurt!”

You don’t think twice.

You push yourself off Megumi and run out the room, the sounds of their chaotic laughter mocking you to no end. You know – you fucking know – you’d never quite belong in Megumi’s circle. Everyone knows you’re just another one of his bed warmers, and they also know how much you’re hopelessly in love with him, begging, hoping that one day he might return your affections.

It makes perfect sense with each step you take further from the room. This has to be staged, intentional, because there’s no way Yuuji would’ve said that if he didn’t already have an idea maybe Alicia reciprocated Megumi’s feelings.

But what about your feelings?

Does no one really care? Were you really reduced to just another body count?

Your chest squeezed uncomfortably as you pushed past the crowd, ignoring everyone’s protests from how rough you were. You don’t stop until you’ve locked yourself inside a restroom, tears freely falling down your face. With trembling hands, you fall back to the floor, dialing the only person you could trust right now.

He picks up not three rings later, voice still gruff and laced with sleep. “Hello?”

“S-Sukuna,” you whimper, pathetically wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “I’m – can you please pick me up?”

From the other line, you can hear Sukuna shuffling for something in the background. Keys dangle and he locks the door, the sounds of his rushed footsteps so relieving to your senses. “Where are you? What’s wrong? Did someone force themselves on you?”

“No, I just…I want to go home.”

“Text me the address. I’ll be there soon.”

You text him the address and end the call. From the outside, the bass is thumping so hard it makes your head pound. You’re already feeling dizzy from crying so much, hands clutched around your chest because it hurts so much.

Stupid Megumi, fucking stupid Megumi – but aren’t you the stupider one? You’re the one who chose to keep being with him despite the warning signs. You’ve heard what everyone said about him, his reputation as a fuckboy isn’t exactly a secret, but you hoped, you sincerely hoped you could at least be good enough. But you’re not not good enough – Megumi just simply doesn’t deserve you. You deserve better and he needs to go to hell, so then why does it hurt so much the more you picture how he’s humiliated you like that?

Your dress is beyond soaked from how much you’ve cried. At this point, you just feel achingly numb. The pounding in your head is matched by the soft knocks rapping against the door, and thinking it’s Megumi or one of his lackeys, you wrap your arms around your knees.

“GO AWAY!”

“Sweetheart, it’s me. Open up, let’s get you home,” It’s Sukuna. Scrambling for the door, you push it open and jump into his arms without a second thought. Sukuna effortlestly catches you, and the dam you thought had dried up in you breaks again. He stiffens as you cry on his shoulder, fists balled around his shirt in a vice-like grip. “Who the fuck made you cry? Is it him again?” he growls, “I seriously want to knock the living daylights out of him.”

“Don’t start a ruckus, Sukuna.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he visibly softens at your state. Sukuna rubs your back soothingly and lets you cry like that, shielding your vulnerable state with his arm. He moves you to hide your face in his chest and kisses the crown of your head, so gentle and unbelievably tender. “I don’t pick on someone weaker than me. That’s bullying.”

You don’t utter another word as he leads you out of the house. He mutters under his breath on how kids are so wild these days and he really can’t imagine he was once like that. Sukuna’s car is parked on the curb, and you rush for it, eager to go home until he stops you. He wraps his jacket around your shoulders to offer you some modesty and you offer him a weak smile, allowing him to embrace you from the sides to guide you.

“Hey!” Megumi calls out, “Hey, what are you doing with her? Let her go,” his footsteps echo behind you just as you clench your eyes shit, “I said let her go!”

“Don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid, don’t punch the kid,” Sukuna mutters to himself like a mantra.

“Yo, steroid guy, you deaf or what? I said let my girl go—” Megumi falls on his ass. He stares up at whoever punched him, eyes wide at Sukuna’s arm raised, but his eyes are on you. “Ow! You fucking bitch, you broke my nose!”

“Shit,” Sukuna laughs beside you as you wince at the soreness of your knuckle. “That was hot.” Somehow, you find the ability to smile. You’ve always wanted to top Megumi, but seeing him below you like this, weak and clutching his broken nose while whining about it like a little bitch, it feels a lot more satisfying.

You want to scream at him, to release all the profanities that have manifested your anger throughout the years. But Megumi crawls back with something unreadable in his eyes, the edges of his lips tinted red with a smack of lipstick, probably from Alicia.

The sight has you scoffing. Maybe you don’t have anything to worry about after all – Megumi hates lipstick stains with a passion. If he ever gets with her, they won’t last long enough.

That fact is enough for you to flip your hair over your shoulder, glaring at Megumi one last time before dragging Sukuna down by the collar. His laughter ceases the moment your lips collide, your hands teasing around his neck to brush at his undercut. Sukuna moans through the kiss, the way he’s explicitly grabbing the flesh of your ass a sign he’s aware what kind of game you’re playing. You make a mental note to apologize for this later, but for now, you’ll shamelessly savor his tongue and the minty aftertaste, grabbing at his large frame that picks you up with no ease.

You leave Megumi gaping at the lawn after that, your finger middle raised right before Sukuna speeds off.

Fuck, that has never felt so good. This feeling…it bursts through you. There’s this certain satisfaction in finally having the power at your fingertips this time around, and you you’re your wicked smile through your hair, too absorbed in your own feelings that you don’t register Sukuna’s worried tone at first.

“So…do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He doesn’t pry afterwards, just shoots you a curious look. Just moments ago, you were crying and feeling like you’re on the verge of breaking down, but this adrenaline rushing through absolutely cannot fuck around anymore. The image of Megumi realizing he’s lost you is so exhilarating, and you twist your torso to face your roommate, grinning at his handsome features. He looks so delicious like this, black button up shirt left open at the top, his veiny, muscular arms driving one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently caressing your thigh. You suck in a deep breath, licking your lips as you purr, “Hey, Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Pull over.”

“Wait, why? We’re so close at home.”

“Pull over, I’m done,” you insist with a glare, although the animosity isn’t directed at him. Sukuna keeps his eyes on the road before he spares you a glance, smirking at how you’re already unclasping your bra from your seat.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re going to use me as a stress reliever.”

At his words, your arms still behind you. You glance up at him with wide, worried eyes that immediately reach out for his hands in assurance. “N-No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Usually, sex is a lot crazier when the other is angry. Use me as you will – I don’t really care,” he licks his lips and suddenly slams on the brakes under an empty parking lot, already flipping something in the engine. You’re taken aback as Sukuna discards his shirt in a second, his large arms carrying your frame to the backseat with him. Sukuna spreads your legs as he helps you get rid of your dress but it’s too tight that you just give up, leaving the material bunched under your boobs instead. Sukuna’s eyes darken at the lack of material under your dress, his fierce gaze shooting up to yours as he massages your inner thighs, his breath labored.

“What position do you want?”

“Fu-fuck, I don’t know, just fuck me,” you whine, spreading your legs farther to make space for him. He’s a tall guy with long limbs that he shrinks even with his fancy car, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. Sukuna seems a lot more focused in fucking you in that moment because he’s unhooking his belt, diving down for one more kiss that is a lot heated and rushed than the previous one for show.

“I want to get rid of his face from my mind, I fucking hate him so much,” you can’t help but bite down on Sukuna’s lip, hard enough that it draws blood. Sukuna groans into your mouth, the sound so utterly deep and sexy you drip down on his seats even more.

“You’ll still go back to him after this?”

“No…it would be stupid if I did,” you roll your eyes.

“Good girl,” Sukuna praises as his lips leave a wet trail from your jaw down to the valley of your breasts. His smile is quickly replaced with a sinister grin, one of his hands cupping your breasts at the same time his teeth dart out to playfully nip at your breasts. He really shouldn’t look so enticing under you like this, and you’re so caught by his devilishness you fail to realize he’s already rummaging through your purse. “But I think lover boy still doesn’t get the message. We’re gonna have to punch it through his dumb skull.”

He hands you your phone, Megumi’s contact right before you.

“Sukuna, what’re you doing?”

“Call him,” Sukuna moves up to fish a condom out of his wallet and slides it to his already throbbing cock, chuckling at the way your eyes widen at his girth as if you hadn’t taken him before. “Call him and let him hear how I fuck you better, sweetheart. Boys like him won’t get the message unless you tell them directly.”

His hands clutch the backseat until his knuckles turn white, aligning himself with your entrance. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily and you moan loudly at the intrusion, pretty little gasps a sign of your pleasure. Helplessly, you grip at his bicep while your legs shake from how tense you are, the tantalizing movement of his hips pulling breathless moans from you. “And what better way than to take what’s his, right? What did he call this? His pretty pussy?” Sukuna scoffs, “Fuck that, stupid little boys can’t even fuck you right, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“Ngh, Sukuna, that f-feels good, right there!”

“Right here?” he teases with a stroke of his cock that brushes against your tight walls. Sukuna’s face contort into pleasure when your tight pussy sucks him in, falling forward just to rasp in your ear. “Call him. Then, I’ll fuck you however you want me to.”

You don’t know how you’re able to swipe on Megumi, but he picks up in the speed of light like never before. Sukuna mouths loudspeaker and you follow his commands, Megumi’s voice booming through the sex-filled air of the car. “Where the fuck did you go? The party wasn’t over yet and you’re hanging out with some beefy, tattoed guy? It’s your roommate, isn’t it?” Megumi curses at someone before continuing, the aggravation evident in his tone. “He’s such a fucking creep, I swear if he lays his hands on you again I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Sukuna challenges, “Oh and mind you, she’s the one who asked me to fuck her. As her concerned roommate and the more mature adult, I believe it’s my duty to listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

“Sukuna!” You whine and slap his arm, but you’re smiling, the pleasure and satisfaction of slapping Megumi this harshly making you feel greater than ever.

“Are you sleeping with her?” Megumi sounds like he’s losing his shit, and you sincerely hope he does. “Gosh, Y/N, how low can you be? I thought you were my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? Since when?” you attempt to scream, but Sukuna’s gripped your thighs and pulls your lower body closer to his cock in time to meet his thrusts. Your body slides off the seat and you’re left screaming Sukuna’s name, the latter wearing a shit-eating grin at the way you’re creaming around him. Somehow, your attention reverts back to Megumi’s whining. “You’re a fucking dick, Megumi, I honestly hope you choke on your small dick!” you shout and end the call, slapping your hand on your face as you throw your phone away. “I hated saying that.”

“Because you still like him or…?”

“No, because he was actually a good fuck and his dick is huge,” you say through pants. Sukuna must’ve hated how you’re talking about Megumi’s dick when he’s literally rearranging your insides, and Sukuna grabs your leg, manhandling you into the position he likes. You’re immediately on your knees with your back flat to his chest, your arms locked between your bodies as Sukuna takes you from behind. Your head falls back to his shoulders where Sukuna leaves messy open-mouthed kisses to your sweaty skin. “I fucking hate him. He’s such an asshole.”

“Hmm, well don’t spend too much energy thinking about him anymore,” Sukuna snarls at your skin, releasing your hands just to rub at your swollen clit. “Just let loose and let me take care of you. I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t even remember meeting him.”

The honest side of you wants to moan, the familiar tightening of your abdomen appearing already. He’s hitting all your sensitive spots that you can barely think, only feel, but you also feel so powerful and enraged that you cup Sukuna’s cheek, narrowing your eyes at him. You hit his thrusts by pushing back against his cock that causes him to slide in deeper, the large man groaning deep within his chest.

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, hundred percent confident, baby.”

“Let’s see what you got then,” you teased him. Pretending you’re not seconds away from coming is an even bigger challenge than leaving Megumi, but for the sake of riling up Sukuna, you would do it.

“You’re challenging me?”

“If I don’t cum at least twice, then that’s going to be a damn shame.”

“Twice? That’s not even the minimum,” he shakes his head tauntingly at you, increasing his pace until the sounds of his balls smacking your ass and both your groans are filling the dead silent night. It’s so lewd and dirty that your tongue lols out from the pleasure, eyes shut tight because you’re close, so fucking close! “You’re going to lose your fucking mind,” Sukuna said as a final warning.

You didn’t think too much of it until he pulls out of you seconds before you came. The crestfallen look written all over your face makes him laugh, but Sukuna only turns your body and goes down on his knees, hitching your legs over his shoulders. Your chest falls up and down as he dives down to your sopping, abused cunt, hands threading through his hair before he rudely flicks it away. “No. Hands to yourself. You’re not allowed to touch me,” he hissed, but his roughness is softened only by a little bit when you whimper so sweetly for him. “Don’t pout, sweetheart, you’ll get your chance when we get home. For now, since you’d so rudely woke me up and left me without inviting me for dinner, I’m starving.”

Sukuna dips between your thighs, tongue poking out to take the first taste of your juices. Your reaction is instantaneous and gratifying; head thrown back, nails dug into the seats, legs quivering and falling open wider to welcome the warm, wet muscle that licks flat from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuuckk, Sukuna, slow down, ngh—”

“He ever ate you out this way?”

“No, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Can you take it, sweetheart? Should I stop?” You know he’s teasing you, the sniggers muffled from your pussy lips are still heard but you can’t fight back, not when your legs turn to jelly at his ministrations.

“Keep going, fuck, please, I will slap you if you don’t make me cum tonight,” you threaten, and Sukuna smartly responds by sucking your clit into his mouth. He rolls it between his teeth, careful enough not to hurt you while plunging two fingers deep inside you, curling it into a come-hither motion that stretches you pleasurably. “Too, oh, shit!”

“You can’t even talk properly,” he chuckles, and the vibrations that come afterwards shatter your entire world. “And this is just my tongue. Feels too good?”

“Yes, yes, too good!” you cry out, “Sukuna, em coming!”

Your orgasm has no build-up whatsoever. You lay there panting with a silent scream as your nails scratch against his seats, toes curled as it comes down into you in one, hard slap. Sukuna hums as he licks up the arousal trailing down your pussy to not make even more of a mess. “Already? I haven’t even started yet,” he sighs sarcastically, “Don’t think I’m done with you. I did say you’d lose your mind, right?”

Sukuna has now joined you on the seats, flipping you to the side where he hooks one leg under his arm, your other leg extended to your side that remains flushed at the seats, his thighs squishing yours. It’s utterly challenging to move in this position and you’re completely at his mercy, the sight of his tall, dominating figure above you forcing you back into a submissive space. He doesn’t give you much time to recover before his cock is pushing past your pussy once more, bottoming out in one, swift thrust.

“’Kuna, too sensitive, mhhm—”

“You’ll take it,” he breathes out while peppering kisses at your ankle, “Come on, you’re a good girl, yeah? Give me one more.”

“Su-kuna, it’s too much!”

“Just one more.” Sukuna elicits moans from you the harder he thrusts, leaning forward until you’re crying out from the stretch of all the muscles in your body. He’s being nice today by letting you cum more than twice in the exchange of holding back his, because he’s absolutely throbbing inside you. He picks up a rougher pace from where he left off, saying your name through gritted teeth as you tighten around him. You’re squealing and whimpering from behind your fists, overly sensitive still from your previous orgasm.

His hips roll in such a mind-numbing manner before Sukuna rams into you utterly deep, your bodies flushed so close you can feel the heat pulsing from his skin. Sukuna tenses above you before he brings you to your orgasm, with him following not long afterwards.

Sukuna pulls out with a groan and ties his condom in a knot, discarding it above his clothes. Upon hearing your soft sighs, he immediately rushes your side and pats your cheek to wake you up. “Hey, look at me,” he commands, though his voice is gentle and soft. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out through fluttering lashes, “Yeah, I’m just tired,” extending your arms to him, you wrap your legs around his waist to bring him close. “Come here. Want cuddles.”

Sukuna gives in to your request for a few minutes and stays wrapped up with you. It’s perfect to be in this state, to be held so close and not just touched, the intimacy of it all bringing about unfamiliar warmth that only ever makes itself present when he’s here. “As much as I want to stay like this, we’re sweaty and sticky,” Sukuna murmurs through your hair, his hands roaming all over your skin. There’s no other sexual meaning behind it even as his rough palms graze past your mound. His touches are more like him exploring your body out of curiosity, out of the desire to just have you this close. You’re unsure what to feel about it and your mind is uncannily clear after an orgasm, but Sukuna’s already sitting up with you above him before you could ponder about it any longer. “Let me take you home first, then we’ll cuddle. What do you think?”

“Oh fuck,” you cut him off upon seeing the flashing of your screen. “It’s Megumi. Fifteen missed calls.”

“Lover boy is crazy,” Sukuna snickered behind you.

“Good thing I’m crazier,” you shut your phone off and throw it to the passenger’s seat, beaming up at Sukuna and giving him the puppy eyes from behind your shoulder. “Can we get milkshakes on the way?”

“I think you got enough milk.”

“Sukuna!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. You pout until you feel something hard and wet poking your bottoms, and Sukuna smirks, gesturing to his erection that you haven’t noticed. “You do know that I’m still hard, right? I’ll fuck you again when we get home.”

“You could’ve just let me suck you off.”

“Nah,” he refuses, “I want to feel you come around me,” Sukuna cockily winks at you, and your mouth falls open, gasping in disbelief at how vulgar he could be. He steals a quick kiss then as he tugs his pants up, the sight of him rolling his sleeves back up to his elbows thoroughly…compelling that you’re left salivating at the ripples of his muscles. “I’ll just wait ‘til we get home. Right now, I need to treat someone like a princess and get her some food.”

“You should stop saying that,” you blurt out defensively, “Sweet lies won’t get you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t lying about anything. I meant every word I said.”

The tension thickens in an instant. Sukuna looks at you warily – or perhaps worriedly? – before he situates himself back in the driver’s seat, starting the car right after you’ve fixed your appearance. Considering it’s already late, he’s struggling to find any restaurant or diners open to appease your cravings, though he doesn’t complain about it.

You fiddle with your hands on your lap, unable to find a proper explanation to his behavior. “Sukuna…” you start off nervously, refusing to look him in the eye. “Do you uhm…do you like me?”

“What kind of question is that, sweetheart?”

“I meant…maybe you just like me for my body, you know?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, sweetheart,” he tilts his head towards you, “I’m too old for drama and playing with people’s feelings. Like I said, the cards are all in your hands now. If you want us to just have casual sex, I don’t mind, but if you also want to be, uhm…” Sukuna awkwardly rubs at the back of his head with a clear of his throat, the tables turned because now he’s the one who can’t meet your gaze. “…something more, then I won’t refuse that either. I’m up to whatever you want to do.”

“And if I said that…maybe I’m considering getting to know you better?”

“Then maybe I would happily say yes.”

You smile at how easily he lightens up the mood, feeling a smile already playing on your lips as you giggle. “Just a maybe?”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he groans, averting his eyes from the road (it’s empty anyway) to get a quick peck. You whack his arm and his laugh only grows louder; he knows you’re not really angry, because he kisses really good and you like it a lot more than you’ll admit.

“I’ll be a hundred times of a better boyfriend than what you’d expect.”

“You’re really confident, huh?”

“Oh, I’m confident I can treat you well,” he nods proudly, head tipping back to the backseat. “I did just let you ruin my leather exterior and let you walk away while I have a raging boner. Do you have any idea how much self restraint a man has to have to let that happen?”

“Probably an immaculate one. Megumi would never let me go unless he’s came.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy,” Sukuna doesn’t even bother to try and hide his hatred for your former crush, and you’re smiling like a lovesick fool on the seat. “You’re with me now. So, since I want to spoil you, how many milkshakes do you want?”

Back then, you were always too addicted to lies that seemed so sweet that you couldn’t be able to stop. But now that you’ve met Sukuna, perhaps the blissful truth is a lot sweeter, and it’s a much healthier addiction you’ll take any day.

taglist: @thesimpsclub @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma @sklycan​ @ggsmashgg​ @dora-the-grownup​ @ninefuckingoneone​ @ambiguous-something​ 

[sweetyyhippyy]

Alone at Last. Spencer Reid x Female Reader. Part 2.

(Not my gif)

Summary: A few months after *part 1*. Spencer and his wife take advantage of an empty house while the kids are at school. 

TW: Mentions of taking a pregnancy test. Sex with the possibility of getting caught. Oral sex (female receiving). Fingering. Calling Spencer “sir”. Almost getting caught during sex. Mirror sex. Hair pulling. Dirty talk. Praising. Breeding. Creampie.

Word Count: 2.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 She picked up the white stick from the counter, frowning at the word “NEGATIVE” that was displayed on the screen.

With a heavy sigh she threw the plastic stick away in the trash, washing her hands and going out to start her morning. Her kids still had at least 45 more minutes before they had to get up which was long enough to get their breakfast cooking.

Spencer was away on a case out of state, which meant that getting both of the kids up, fed, and to school was all up to her.

As she went down the stairs she could hear shuffling going on in the kitchen and the smell of fresh brewing coffee. She peeked around the corner hesitant at first, until she recognized the back of her husband’s head.

“You’re home!” She cheers quietly, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him from behind.

“I wanted to surprise you and the kids. I got in about an hour ago.” He quickly turns around and takes his wife’s face in his hands, kissing her softly. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She responds, resting her head against his chest. “I um… took a test this morning.” She starts.

“Yeah?”

She looks up at Spencer and bites her bottom lip, looking displeased.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry.” Spencer says, rubbing her lower back in comfort.

“It’s been months that we’ve been trying. We didn’t have this much trouble getting pregnant with Jason and Valerie.”

“Well, with them we were younger.”

“Are you saying I’m old?” She asks, not being able to contain the laugh that was on her face.

Spencer’s eyes widen, realizing his mistake right away. “No! No! No, I’m just saying that you just turned 33 so it’s going to be harder to get pregnant. We were both in our early 20s when we had Jason.”

She sighs and nods her head. “I know. I just… I want a baby now.”

Spencer kisses her forehead and brings her in for another hug. “We’ll have another, sweetheart. But in the meantime, we get to make the baby and I know you enjoy doing that.” He whispers.

“Spencer Reid, it is 5:30 in the morning are you really trying to do this now?”

“I am.” He backs his wife against the counter and lifts her up, making her sit against the countertop.

“Spencer! We eat and cook on this counter!”

“And I’m about to eat too.”

She can’t help but laugh, covering her face with her hands and Spencer wastes no time with pulling her shorts down her hips and instantly licking a long stripe up her pussy. “Fuck!” She moans quietly, her fingers intertwining his hair. “I-I know you like doing that, and-fuck- I love when you eat me out too.” She gets lost in her train of thought as Spencer flicks his tongue back and forth against her clit, making her whole body go weak. “Oh my god!” She whisper yells. “We don’t have time for this if you’re going to fuck me.”

Spencer gives a few more licks before coming up and meeting her face to face.

“Come here.” She says, kissing his lips harshly.

Spencer took advantage of the fact his wife’s legs were open, taking his fingers and slicking his fingers up and down her folds, touching the wetness and slipping his fingers in.

“Spencer!” She whines, her head falling back.

Spencer kisses her neck, lightly nipping at the skin, making her yelp a little too loudly.

She covers her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh.

“Shhh, so loud.” Spencer teases, a smile on his face.

“We have maybe 20 more minutes before the kids need to be up. We need to hurry this along.”

“Oh, so romantic baby.” Spencer says with sarcasm laced in his voice.

She hops off the counter and turns her back to him, bending over the counter. “I’m all about the romance.” She smirks, letting her shorts fall down around her ankles.

Spencer quickly fishes his cock from the zipper, stroking himself a few times before guiding himself in, a throaty groan coming from him. “Fuck baby, so wet.”

“You know you can just look at me and I get wet.” She whispers, clinging onto a clean dishrag on the counter.

Spencer kept a nice steady pace as he gripped both sides of her hips, railing into her. “You take me so well, baby.”

His wife hums in response, letting out a string of broken sobs, careful not to moan too loudly. “Baby, harder and please! I need more.”

Spencer gives her ass one harsh slap, making her yelp again. “You think you can take my cock going harder into you?” He asks, grabbing the ponytail that was going down her back and yanks it back.

“Yes sir! Yes I can take it!”

Spencer fucks into her harder, holding both of her shoulders for balance. “Sir? That’s the route you wanna go, darling?”

Just as she’s about to answer they hear a door open from upstairs followed by footsteps.

“Shit! No!” She cusses as Spencer reluctantly pulls out and helps his wife pick her shorts up and fixes them for her.

Spencer turns around to situate himself, trying to hide the evidence of what they were just doing.

She grabs the disinfectant spray and a paper towel, wiping the counter off as their son makes his way down the stairs. “Hi sweetheart.” She calls out to him.

He continues to rub the sleep out of his eyes until he sees his dad. “Dad! You’re home!” He runs to him, Spencer embracing him for a hug.

“Hey buddy.” Spencer says, holding his first born.

“Is your sister awake?” She asks Jason.

“I don’t know. I had to wake up because I heard sounds and didn’t know what it was. And then I had to go to the bathroom.”

Spencer and his wife make eye contact, his wife trying to hide the smile on her face.

“I’m going to go upstairs and wake her.”

“I’ll start on some eggs and pancakes for you guys, what do you think bud?”

She watches as Jason looks up at Spencer and nods his head, hearing him ask if he could help which made her heart feel full.

As she climbs upstairs she can feel the dull aching between her legs, something the both of them were going to have to take care of once the kids were at school.

***

“But mommy, daddy’s home! Why can’t we stay home?” Valerie asks from the back seat.

“Because you guys have to go to school. Daddy will be home when school is done.”

“But we missed him!”

“Honey, I know. I missed him too, but you guys have school, and I have work so I can’t hang out with daddy either.”

A slight lie. She did have work, but the kids didn’t need to know she took a “sick” day.

She looks back in the rear view mirror, both of her kids with a matching pout on their faces, ones that also matched Spencer’s pout. “Listen, if we go to school today, and you guys have a good day, maybe I’ll bust you guys out early on Friday and we can all go somewhere fun for the weekend. Does that sound like a plan?”

“Where are we going to go?” Jason asks.

“I don’t know, we can all talk about it as a family if you guys have a good day at school today. Can we do that?”

“Okay mommy!” Valerie says loudly, a smile on her face.

“Okay.” Jason says with not as much enthusiasm as his sister.

She pulls up to the parent drop off line at school, hearing both of the kids undoing their seat belts and gathering their stuff up. “Have a good day babies, I love you.”

Both kids give her a kiss on the cheek before scooting out the car door and walking hand and hand with each other to the school.

***

She makes her way up to their bedroom, ready to pick up where she and Spencer left off this morning, only to find him fast asleep under the sheets, soft little snores filling the room. She can’t help but smile at how adorable he looked hugging one of her pillows into his chest. Slowly she closes the door and goes back downstairs to clean the mess from breakfast and start some of Spencer’s laundry from his go bag.

After a few hours of cleaning up the kitchen and catching up on some laundry, she was beyond ready for a shower. She heads upstairs, quietly gathering new clothes while Spencer slept.

When she steps out of the shower she spots Spencer leaning against the sink, making her slightly jump. “You scared me.” She says, grabbing the towel and drying herself off.

“Come here.” He says, motioning her over with his hands.

She cocks her eyebrow at him and walks over to him, the towel pressed against the bottom of her face as she tries to dry it off.

“I need you.” He says, pressing her against himself.

“Yeah? Are we going to pick up where we left off this morning?” She asks, wrapping both of her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

His body buzzed at the feeling of how wet and warm her body was against his. “Do you remember where we left off?”

“You’re the one with an eidetic memory. Why don’t you tell me? Or better yet, show me where we were… sir.” She smirks.

Spencer turns her around, her back facing him while facing the mirror. “You want me to show you, baby?” He whispers in her ear, his fingers dipping in between her legs.

“Fuck!” She moans, gripping his forearm.

“Look at that, just out of the shower and you’re already wet for me.” He growls, nipping at her neck. His fingers quickly rub at her clit, feeling how hard he was getting as he heard her moaning and felt her ass pressed against his crotch.

“Spencer, fuck me please. Please baby, please.” She was desperate to feel him inside her again after this morning.

“Yeah, baby.” He groans, taking his sweatpants off to his ankles and sliding himself in painfully slow.

Both of them moan as he doesn’t miss a beat with thrusting into her in a good steady rhythm.

“Fuck that’s so good sir.” She says, looking back at him in the mirror.

Spencer takes a fistful of her hair and holds her head up, forcing her to look back at herself. “Look at you. You like looking at me fuck you? You like that, baby?” He grunts out, giving her ass a smack.

“Yes! Yes I love it! I fucking love it!” She moans back, holding the counter of the sink so she didn’t fall over. She loved watching Spencer look at her through the mirror and seeing how his mouth fell open while he railed into her, hunger in his eyes.

Spencer pulls back, turning his wife around and taking her face in his hands and kissing her harshly.

She wraps her arms around his neck while he lifts her up to sit on the counter, pulling back from the kiss. She opens her legs and smiles as  Spencer slides back in and instantly begins snapping his hips back and forth. Her own hips meet his thrusts, making her whimper as her bottoms her out. “Keep going sir!”

“Yeah baby. You’re doing such a good job taking my fucking cock baby. Such a good girl.” He says into her mouth, kissing her again. “Come here.” Spencer pulls her off the counter and brings her over to the edge of the tub, sitting on it.

She climbs onto his lap, sliding onto his cock with a pathetic whimper. She rests her forehead on his as she begins to grind herself against him, biting her lip.

Spencer grabs onto her ass and helps her fuck herself on him. He stares into her eyes, seeing her slowly fall apart on top of him. He pulls her damp hair back from her face, holding it at the back of her head. “That’s my girl. Yeah, you like fucking me don’t you?

“Yes!” She breathes out heavily. “Yes I fucking love it! Fuck you’re so deep in me sir.”

“That way I can cum deep inside you and put a baby in you. You want my baby inside you?”

“Yes I want you to give me a baby!” She almost yells, her voice echoing through the room.

Spencer kisses her lips, letting her hair go and letting it flow down her back. “You’re going to cum, aren’t you little one? You’re going to cum for me?”

She nods her head and bites her bottom lip again.

“Up. Let me fuck you.”

She stands up and sits back on the counter, massaging her clit as Spencer slides back into her.

His fingers replace hers and continues the circles. “Does that feel good? Do you like that?” He asks.

“Mmhmm! Don’t stop, please!”

“I’m not going to stop, sweetheart. I love seeing you fall apart all because I’m touching you.” He whispers, thrusting and massaging her.

She puts her hand on the back of Spencer’s neck and pulls his head closer to hers, kissing him deeply as her body begins to tingle.

It doesn’t take much more for her to fall apart against his cock and fingers, moans getting trapped between their lips.

Spencer pulls back, letting her moans fill the room while he still massages her. “I know baby, I know that felt so good.”

Between her clenching around his cock and hearing  her desperate and broken moans, Spencer could feel himself start to lose his composure. He swipes his thumb across her bottom lip as he touches her face lovingly. His hands didn’t leave his wife’s boobs as they bounced in his line of sight. “I’m going to cum, sweetheart.” He groans, sitting his eyes tight.

“Yeah baby. Cum inside me! Fill me up and make me feel good.” She coos.

He manages 2 more thrusts before shooting ropes inside his wife before stalling his movements. Deep throaty moans and grunts coming from him as he calms down.

She holds his body against hers, kissing his shoulder. “That was so good.” She half laughs.

Spencer pulls out slowly, kissing her lips as he does. “Come lay with me in bed.” Spencer says, helping her off the counter and taking her to their bed.

She cuddles into his side, nuzzling her head into his neck. “I love you Spence.”

“I love you too baby.” He responds, kissing her head. “Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm. Perfect.”

“Not too rough?”

She laughs and kisses his cheek. “Baby no. Just because we have kids doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy rough sex. Do you remember how we used to go at it before we had kids? It’s amazing how we didn’t have kids sooner.”

Spencer laughs. “Yeah we would probably have a whole sports team worth of kids at this point.”

“Can we take a nap?” She asks.

“Of course. And I’ll pick the kids up from school so that you don’t have to get out of bed.”

She grabs the bed sheets and covers both of them up, nuzzling closer to him. “I have such a good husband and father of my kids.”

Spencer puts his arm around her and rubs her shoulder until he hears her softly snoring next to him.

9 months later, Spencer would have two new babies to take care of alongside his wife: identical twin baby girls. Their house now up to 6.

[softomi]

Meet the Slayer and her Crew

Life wasn’t always peachy, sunshine, and rainbows; yours was filled with blood, gore, and constant running. Born in a bloodline of slayers, you were part of the few living lineages left. Raised with a tight collar, your free time was spent training to defend yourself. Your after school extracurriculars were mythology literature, weaponry, witch craft, and some days cooking.

“How come she gets to leave right after school?” Many watched you, the last bell ringing signaling class over and while the rest of the students linger for club activities, you entered the car that pulled up to the school gates.

“I heard her parents came and blew up a storm saying that she didn’t need club activities; she’s going to take over her family business or something.”

It was true, as the only daughter, you were to carry the lineage. You needed practice and training to pass on the knowledge.

You always found it lonely and because you were lonely, the world decided to bestow onto you, three losers.

You weren’t intending on running into anyone that night and if you did, you could always play it as a nightly running exercise; but how could you explain this. The pesky vampire’s fangs were mere centimeters from your skin, it drew blood and just as you think that maybe this would be the last time you would breathe; the vampire is thrusted off.

Your hands tightening on the crossbow, the vampire starts running; the aim is dead on, the arrow penetrating him in the heart, and he falls to ashes.

The knot in your shoulder tightens and you’re stretching it out as you turn with a grin, “You’re incredibly late.” You expected to see one of your family friends, they insisted on going out with you that night but what you’re met with is three pairs of eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck was that?!” Atsumu falls to the ground, having been the one to touch the thing he suddenly feels infected.

Osamu is taking a step back, oddly aware of the crossbow in your hand, “What?”

The third, still and quiet, Suna almost passes as calm but his eyes show a sudden panic. He isn’t even saying anything, an awkward laugh coming from his mouth.

“I can totally explain!” You drop the crossbow, waving your hands in front of you.

“Explain what?!” Suna shouts.

“Why? The ashes? The crossbow?” Osamu is stuttering.

Atsumu has his hands in his hair, “I touched it. I touched it. I touched it.”

It makes you wonder some days, just how the three losers were so quick to adapt to your lifestyle. It was a secret at first, reluctantly, you let them follow you on your nightly adventures. They would watch in awe and fear at the way you’d handle the monsters. Monsters, that’s what they would constantly call them at first.

Three months, you spent three months with them trailing behind you; constantly bickering with them to stand down. Three months saving their asses as they ran from anything and anyone. They were so quick to act big but then shrink away when a newly turned vampire crawls from the grave.

But then it happened, you dreamed something that shook you to the core. You dreamed of their blood on your hands, sadness in their eyes as they looked at you. The moment your eyes opened; a chill ran down your spine.

So you did something you had never done before, you were going to fight for what you wanted.  

“Let them join me.” You weren’t going to back down. The first time you asked, your parents responded with a harsh no. You jabbed the knife into your father’s desk, a cold stare into his eyes, “I am the future head of the household. I am only one person; I need people. I need people who are properly trained.”

“You’re asking us to train amateurs.” Your father speaks, “Little boys.”

“They’ve survived longer than most. I want them.”

And you got them. It was surprising just how quick they were to accept the ‘private tutoring’ as was listed in their formal invitations.

It was just as surprising how well they did in training. Atsumu competed with you in both combat and weaponry, you two have a little rivalry; but who’s keeping count on who knocks down the other the most. Atsumu is. You were a still a few points ahead, but he insists that the first few months don’t count; he was just getting the hang of it.

Suna seemed to fair better in mythology and demonology lessons. It was the one subject you still struggled with but it was one in which he soared in. You began to secretly think that he had been reading up during the three months they were following you. He’d snort seeing your latest grade on the quiz, his perfect hundred made your face red and you swore vengeance on the next quiz.

You weren’t surprised at how well Osamu excelled in witchcraft as well as cooking. He liked to think of the two as going hand in hand; something your mother noted as an excellent point. She hit your head when he made that comment, muttering about how at least someone understands.

“I take it back, I don’t want any of you here anymore!” You shouted one day when Atsumu landed you on the ground, “I used to be star student.”

“That was when you were the only student.” Suna remarks.

Atsumu leans over your body, a grin on his lips as his head blocks the sun from shining down on you, “Looks like we reached a tie sweetheart.”

“Guys, I think I finally did it. A potion that gives you extra speed.” Osamu appears from the house with glasses on a tray.

“Not it!” Suna and Atsumu shout in unison and you groan.

Osamu gives you a grin as you take the drink, the smell was wretched, “Couldn’t you have added vanilla into this?” You take a small sip, spitting it out immediately, “I swear to god Samu, if this gives me a tail again, I’ll bite you.”

Extras:

Miya Atsumu

“You need to cut off its head.” Suna’s voice was drowned out, the earbud in which is voice was coming from had fallen out of Atsumu’s ear.

“What!” Atsumu screamed as he struggled to keep the creature off, his shielded sword pressing against its neck, but it didn’t stop it from dripping drool on Atsumu, “The fuck this thing drooling so much for.”

“You need to cut off its head!” Suna was practically waking the whole neighborhood.

The creature hissed when a silver bullet penetrated its skin. It snarled, turning its body to you. Your own earbud had already fallen out at the front door when its sister creature had tackled you through a wall. You had told Suna the earbud idea was dumb. You continued to shoot the shotgun, your silver bullets running out as he neared you.

“Atsumu!” You’re calling out, “It’s your turn!”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Atsumu was too distracted wiping the saliva off his face, picking up the earbud and shoving it in his ear, “I’m going to kill you Suna!”

“Cut off the head!” Suna shouts in his ear.

The slime splattered across your face, green coated your skin. You spat out what reached your mouth, the thing fell and behind it Atsumu stood with heavy breaths. Atsumu tossed the earbud onto the ground, stumbling to you. His footsteps are heavy, the sword clattering to the ground, he rests his head onto your shoulder.

“It drooled on me.” Atsumu whines.

You shove him off, “Yeah well you got slime in my mouth, we’re even.”

Miya Osamu

“Uh, Samu!” You were currently backed into a wall, your eyes looking all around, “It’s gone!”

“Just give me a second!” He’s calling from the first floor of the library.

You heard scuffles, you’re trying your hardest to listen keenly. The light footsteps to your left make you turn and throw a fist; you’re not sure if it makes a dent into what you’ve hit; but they’re definitely angry. It lifts you by the waist, your body hoisted into the air, your back colliding with one of the shelves.

You’re groaning loudly, “Samu! Any minute now!”

“What’s taking so damn long!” Atsumu barges into the room.

“Got it!” Osamu starts reading the literature, dusts of light grow from his palms; when he finishes the last line, he blows the dust. It spreads quickly, it disappears when it touches plain surfaces but the creature screeches as the dust paints its body.

“Catch!” Osamu throws a gun to you, it bounces off the railing and back to the first floor, “Sorry!”

You’re sighing deeply, hands gripping a chair to break its wooden legs. You use one of the legs as a stake, driving it into the heart of the creature. It falls to the ground, lying limp as the twins finally make their way up to the second floor.

Osamu presses a hand to your shoulder, “That was a close one right.”

You punch him in the gut, “Suna would know it off the top of his head!”

Suna Rintarou

“What’s it look like?!” Suna calls within the forest.

“Ugly!” You’re calling back as it knocks you down, it’s long arms reaching to pull you by the leg. Your foot meets its face, its teeth snarling when it’s kicked back.

“You gotta be a bit more specific!” The fog is frustrating Suna, even the twins have found themselves lost, you were the only one who called out to him.

“Suna!” Your yelling more as it cuts you with its nails across your stomach, “It’s shape shifting! What the fuck are you!” Your hands shake as the bullets do nothing to it, “Four legs! It’s torso is flipped backwards, fucking looks like Slenderman on meth.”

It pops into Suna’s head, “Oh! You’re not supposed to look at its face!”

“Well, it’s too late now!” You’re staring directly at it. You’re on your feet, the silver dagger in your hand as you hold its gaze, “How am I supposed to kill you!”

“You need to take out its heart!” Suna sees you, through the foggy air, he’s finally reached you, “Hey. I’m here.” You shiver at his touch, “If you give me a second, I can clear the fog. The twins can come.”

“No.” Your own blood drips from your skin, you strike the dagger sharp into the air; it extends tenfold, “I’m finishing this.”

You rip the heart out from its chest, its blood dripping through your fingers. Your foot atop its lying body; the fog settles and the twins appear not far. Suna stares at the way you’re waving the heart in the air.

“Can you not.” He states.

“Suna! Take a picture!”

“No.”

[werezmastarbucks]

boston

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2538

music: savage streets by perturbator, you’ll only be safe with me by tuff turf, dark all day by gunship

You stood on one knee, feeling Kai’s fingers under your belt as he held you. You shoved out of the window half way, and yelled,

“I’m good!”

He pushed the gas pedal into the floor, and the car roared angrily, tearing through the night mist.

The black shadows surrounded you, floating out of the metal and brick twilight of the street so suddenly fear shot through you like lightning. You held up your shotgun and aimed, trying to balance with your hip on the frame of the window. Falling out of the window would mean imminent death: zombies were everywhere. They were waiting on the corners, in the windows of the buildings, hiding in the shade, behind the smelly dumpsters and in the middle of the road. As the city lights died out, and the car raced deeper into the district, golden and silver changed into cold blue and electric, the colors of docks and warehouses.

“I got them!”

“Shoot!” Kai yelled.

You exhaled and did not inhale, because the best snipers don’t breathe when shooting. As the monster truck passed by the cluster of black silhouettes, you fired three rounds into them, scaring the gathering and hitting one of them. Then you fell back into your seat and pulled your hair away from your face. It will be a bitch to try and brush after. The car drove out into the narrow quay where black water lay like glistening dirty skin, and Kai’s face was yellow in the passing bleak lights.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, poiting at the figure on the roof on the left. He slowed down a little, and you looked back to make sure nobody’s following you. You set the shotgun on your right.

“It’s Jeepers Creepers”.

“Wha... Y/N. What is Jeepers fucking Creepers doing at our zombie apocalypse?”

“I don’t know, Kai”, you snarled, “maybe he launched it. How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re driving me crazy”.

“I am afraid of Jeepers Creepers, okay? He’s gonna be the final boss”.

“I’m gonna tear his balls off”, Kai mumbled.

“He’ll take yours. That’s what he does”, you reminded him.

Kai snored.

“Get up. There’s more. They must have circled the parking lot. Look”.

Right in the middle of the road, where yellow fog was floating in the air like phantom veil, and the asphalt glistened, sweaty after 10PM rain, the black shadows barricaded the road. Kai stopped the car, and the low grumble slowly faded into the quiet, monotnous howl of the city. Somewhere, trains were moving to and fro on the rails, colliding with each other, creating noise. The factories were working, sending black smoke into the opaque sky, clogged by unwilling cigarrette clouds. The river itself, it seemed, hummed something very low, like a deadly lullaby. This world was a hostile and lonesome place. The only warm thing in here was Kai’s body sitting next to you, radiating humanity. You jerked your shotgun. You knew he was seeing exactly the same thing as you did - a bunch of zombies swaying slowly in your direction. He turned up the music a little.

“Ready?”

“Yeah”.

“Aim better or else we’re gonna drive in circles all night”.

“Don’t tell me how to kill zombies, Kai”.

He mimicked you, starting the car.

Next night, it was his turn, and you did the same thing, racing through the night city, crashing into cardbox fortresses and blowing up the glass forts, shooting the heads off the zombies, until you both have had enough of that zombie apocalypse world. It has been some time until you got tired.

(To get into the right mood, you have occupied the Columbus Movie Theatre for like a week, rewatching zombie movies. Turned out, you can’t just walk into a movie theatre and find all the zombie films piled up neatly in the movie room - or whatever it’s called. You have argued about them again and again, Kai insisting on Evil Dead being immortal classic, but the Day of the Dead was his all-time favorite. You nearly got into a fistfight with him over the Return of the Living Dead.

“Of course”, he puffed and laughed out, condescending as hell.

“What’s that laugh?!” you demanded. Kai shrugged.

“It’s such a girly thing. Return of the Living Dead. The third part is also your favorite, isn’t it?”

And he gave you the nastiest look. You narrowed your eyes.

“You bigot. You absolute fuckface. The first one is my favorite”.

He was enjoying himself too much, obviously agitated by the topic, not entirely there.

“Okay, okay”.

“But for the record, yes, I do think that the third part is the best love story I’ve ever seen on screen. It’s incredible”.

Kai nodded, the smile never leaving his face.

“She managed to fight off her cannibalistic instinct not to hurt the person she loved. She tore herself with needles and hooks to fight the urge to kill him and actually managed to keep him safe although she was literally a flesh eating zombie. How cool is that?”

Kai sighed and looked you in the eye.

“Very cool’, he said, with the tone that screamed ‘you’re silly and I adore you’.

“What other movies came out this year?”

“Not many, it’s only May”, he replied, digging deep into the box with films.

“Is Dream Lover out yet?”

“Yep”.

“We should watch it”.

“Later”, Kai said, throwing a film across the room and allowing it to crash into pieces. You hoped to hell it wasn’t Dream Lover.

“And Freddie Krueger?”

“No, not yet”.

“Damn it”, you looked over his shoulder.

“No Freddie Krueger!” he announced, “that’s it, she draws the line at Freddie. We’re leaving now”.

You laughed.

In the dark movie room, you could choose any row, any seats. You nested against each other, honoring the sacred cinema theatre tradition to gently touch in the twilight. While the action unfolded on screen, you had to shove popcorn into Kai’s mouth because it was the only way you could make him stop talking. When you ran out of popcorn, you had to shut him up with your mouth. It was a great week.)

You looked around the street and then, at Kai. How lucky he was, to find himself in this wretched place with someone as willing to play zombies as you were. You should do it more often. Maybe you should act out Mist next, somewhere in Houston.

You pulled your backpack up, and your eyes darted towards the black tower, ominous, insidious without any light, like a gigantic grave stone. Before Parker cut all the electricity, it was the Hancock Tower, now, it was just Tower. And the path to it lay through the dangerous city filled with brain craving monsters, bloodthirsty, dumb and ferocious, and you were running out of bullets. Besides, earlier on, you fell through one of the cardboard box forteresses and bruised your knee so badly, together with your left hand which you landed on. This adventure would be the death of you.

Kai twitched.

“I hear something”, he said, cocking his gun. You stood behind him, one-handed, unable to shoot. You closed your eyes. Lo, if they attack from all directions, you won’t be any help. A wounded companion is worse than an enemy in this world. You wondered if Kai would leave you alone to be eaten and stall them, or whether he’d shoot you in the head first, to spare you.

He walked on a little, entering a small square, and the black outlines of hairless, clotheless humans frightened you like you weren’t the one who had put them there ten hours earlier. They spooked you every time.

Kai shot three times, hitting each mannequin with one bullet.

“On the roof!” you pointed, turning back. You bowed as he threw up his shotgun, and fired. Heavy plastic body hopped and rolled down, falling on the ground. Kai could see in the dark so well you had to remind yourself he was human. Sometimes you would forget that fact completely. He was so different from everybody else.

He led you towards the tower where you stabbed one of the zombies in the throat. He was good at shooting, but you were very gifted with stabbing. You never missed.

“God damn”, Kai panted, as the mannequin swayed and collapsed on the asphalt just next to the glass door he was holding for you, “you saved my life”.

He took you in the movie gesture, pulling you into a long kiss. Your wrist started swelling and you had to take off your electronic watch temporarily. In the bleak room, it shone with green thin neon light from the bedside table while you had sex on the matrass.

In the middle of the night something fell off the roof, and scared the hell out of you - for real this time. You did not put anything on the top of the Tower since it was your fort. In the morning you came up on the top, while Kai went down and examined the object. Turned out, on the tenth of May, 1994, one single bag filled with files and staplers fell off the roof of the Hancock Tower. There was no way of knowing why.

“Wake up”.

You opened your eyes and rubbed your neck, aching from sleeping on the single mattrass on the floor. You looked out of the window. It has just stopped raining, which meant it was already close to midnight. In the dystopian Boston, you have switched to night regime of living completely because in the daylight, mannequins randomly standing in the streets looked simply stupid.

“The Titans”, he said. Kai’s face was so close to yours, you could feel the words on your skin. His eyes shone nervously.

“What Titans? It’s zombie apocalypse, Kai”.

He frowned.

“And what was Jeepers Creepers doing there then?”

“Oh my god”, you groaned, “let go of it already! You killed him like a week ago”.

“Come on, see for yourself”, he pulled you up, and you walked to the window, and gasped, instantly feeling for Kai’s hand. It couldn’t be happening.

That’s it! This madness finally drove you... mad.

There was an actual silhouette, the one you didn’t put there, and possibly couldn’t. The one that could not be put there for the life of you. The one of proportions too great for anyone to put it in the middle of the city, one foot on the right side of the river, and the other, on the left.

“What the fuck!” you yelled, your fright real as ever. Kai grinned happily, but then his face changed back to the philosophical expression of impending doom.

“This is it, Y/N. The zombies... and that dude... were just omens, but that’s it. The sky people have come to destroy us. It’s the end“.

“Seriously, Kai, how did you put it up... there?”

The sky was blackish-bordeaux, like usual. The river was seen just fine from here, from the top floor of the Tower. You had a pretty good look on the gloomy city and all its post-war industrial charm. The figure was so big it stood almost above the Tower itself; he reminded you of the Colossus of Rhodos, the Bronze Man, or one of the mythical golden gods of ancient times. You could actually feel your heart trying to break the hell out of your ribcage in a desperate attempt to kill itself. You couldn’t breathe for a second, mortified by the size of that thing. It was one of the deepest nightmares of your childhood, one of the visions haunting you from when you were little and kept dreaming about the end of the world.

You told Kai about those, and he now used them against you, but you appreciated the performance. It was all almost like art. It was horrifying and great, but you hated it.

“He came down from the clouds”, Kai said quietly, like a dispassionate narrator. Who already knows what’s coming, and doesn’t give a shit, because he’s already dead.

“To press the earth into the core of the planet, and make all life perish. He shall walk the land... waging his wrath on all that breathes. Including you and me”.

You made an effort to turn away, mesmerized by the statue, and looked at Kai.

“How much magic have you wasted on it?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break the character, it takes me a lot of concentration”.

“Sorry”, you whispered.

“How do you feel about facing the end of the world with me?” he asked.

It was a damn good question. Parker really did ask all the right questions. After all the time in post-apocalyptic Boston, surrounded by enemy, living in a dark den and barely seeing the sun, it was very easy to actually sense the end coming. You clutched your own elbows, thinking. Strangely, you weren’t scared anymore.

A part of his face was in the shadow. He blinked the way you’ve only ever seen Kai blink, just a little, as if he didn’t want to lose visual even for a split second.

“I’m okay with it. I have lived a fine life, in my totalitarian city, guarded by robots and...”

“...zombies...”

“Hunted down by Harrison Ford...”

“You just jumble together all the movies, it’s actually insane, stop it”.

“But now as Cthulhu has sent its warriors...” (Kai rolled his eyes), “I’m ready to go”.

A lonely honk of a train cut through the distance making you feel melancholic. The trains were just crawling there day and night, filling the air with their lonesome cries occasionally. It would make any reasonable person go crazy, too.

“What will be the last thing you do before you die?” he whispered, his nose almost touching yours. You gave in, hot slow lava crawling up your body. You took Kai’s waist, trying to feel his ribs through three layers of clothing.

“You”.

He probably wore three or four shirts just to see you go nuts as you tried to undress him every time. His street jacket goes, then, a pullover, then a shirt, then another shirt, and you groan with anger as he chuckles at you, his hands snaking under your clothes at once. Your skin went shivering, covered with goose bumps under his fingers, like by magic.

As he pushed you against the wall, the gigantic Titan started melting above the river, looming shadow stepping away from the city, which was flattering. Kai’s whole mind was directed at you now.

You thought about how one loves at the brink of extinction; is it passionate, like when Kai grabbed your shoulder, your hair, pounding you into the floor, or is it gentle and thoughtful, like when you only moved your hips slowly, pressed against each other like two halves of Oreo, or is it impatient, breathless and vile, like when he was fucking you against the wall, talking all the way through your whimpering?

It took the end of the world for you to end up on his dick.

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 8

Chapter Selection

I laid awake last night, the pain from my ankle was worse than I thought. I had limped my way over to the fridge to get an ice pack. "Ok- I wasn't going to mention it but why was Hotch with you yesterday and why was he giving you a piggyback ride." 

My heart jumped, I flinched and set my hands on the counter. "First, fuck you for scaring me. Second while I was running yesterday I fell in... a hole and I hurt my ankle. Hotch was there because he was also running." 

Now that I heard it out loud it sounds like a made up story, like I was trying to cover something up. Chloe thought the same thing as she clicked her tongue and sat on the couch, "Yeah okay." Rolling my eyes I went... more like hobbled back into my room and tried to get ready for class. 

I didn't have the energy to change so I just put a hoodie to go with my pajama pants. Class was in an hour and given my physical state I needed to take advantage of that time. "I'm leaving now you coming or not", Chloe turned her head to me as I walked into the living room. "No I'm not feeling good today", I internally shrugged. "Okay." 

I grabbed my car keys and slowly made my way out of the apartment and down the stairs. I held onto the railing hoping I wouldn't fall down. When I got to the last stair I took my time going across the lot into the car. I was happy that it was my left ankle that was injured and not my right; I could still drive. 

I drove to the campus, getting there half an hour left before class. I had stopped on my way to get some coffee, deciding to get Hotch a coffee too as a thank you for yesterday. 

I pulled up and carefully got the coffees out of the car before standing up. I was making my way to the hall little by little, passing barely anyone. It was still 'early' to everyone else but the teachers. I got the lecture hall door and opened them. 

When I stepped inside no one was in there but him... sitting at his desk. He snapped his head up at the sudden opening and closing of the heavy doors, "Why are you here so early?" I set my coffee down at my desk and tried to go over to him. He noticed I was limping and was walking over to help me. 

"I wanted to thank you", I said holding his drink. He took it from my hand and took a sip. "Thank you, and are you sure you being here early is for the coffee or the fact that you can barely walk?" I dropped my head down a bit, "The second one." 

He hummed, "Thought so..." We were quiet, it was awkward silence but somewhat comforting. I still had my head down looking at my feet. That was until I felt his pointer finger go under my chin and pick up my head making me look at him. "How bad does it hurt?", I've touched him before but this felt different. 

My cheek heated and he pulled away, still looking at me. "It's just sore." He turned to the side and pulled the chair from the side of his desk and gestured me to sit. 

I sat down and he took the chair from behind his desk and pushed it in front of me. He sat down and reached for my leg putting it on his lap. My breath was caught in my throat, from here I knew what he was going to do but it still made me anxious. 

"Is this alright?", he said before lifting up the bottom of my pant leg. "Yeah", he lifted it up and started massaging my ankle, it felt great. I didn't have a sprain, I was honestly just sore and I couldn't figure it out. I slowly closed my eyes and was just enjoying it. 

The pressure was released, "You okay." Hotch said chuckling, looking at me. 

I opened my eyes, "What... yeah I'm fine. It feels good." It was like getting a massage after a long day of roller skating. He kept smiling as he continued only stopping because class was in 5 minutes. He stood up and went to his desk, I scooted the chair to the edge of his desk. 

He went back to working, staring at the papers. "What are you doing?", he glanced over at me. "Looking over the lesson plan, we have a lot to go over." 

"I know someone that'll help me understand." I folded my arms on the desk resting my head on my forearms. Hotch leaned back in his chair, "Is that right." I nodded smiling. 

"Well they must be very nice to help you out."

I shrugged, "Oh they are." We both started laughing, when we calmed down we were just looking at each other. No one spoke, just like a few minutes ago. I could feel the tension around us, like he was the only thing that mattered. 

"Y/n-", he was cut off by a student opening the door and settling in a chair. Both of us were startled, I tried my best to act normal going to my seat, the massage helped a lot. I took steps forward without limping, I took out a notebook being ready to take notes. 

As I waited for class to start, the class was flooding with students. Hotch let the talking die down before speaking out. 

"Alright, I hope that you guys read the syllabus... if not that's okay. We are going to be starting off with criminal behavior, how it affects their crimes and how it can be reflected in their crimes. If you're trained in the topic you can tell a lot about how the unsub was feeling when they committed the act. Whether that be jealousy, anger, or hatred... now before we continue I should mention that I will be showing graphic images."

Hotch stops and walks to his desk, connecting to the tv in the front of the room. "I wanted to start off with someone that everyone knows about... Ted Bundy. He was a serial killer in the 70's and was executed in 89. He murdered, raped, and kidnapped young women. Bundy killed for the dominance, he got off on having power over the women, wanting all control." Hotch flipped through photos of the crimes and what they told us. 

He continued to tell us about others like Son of Sam, John Wayne Gacy, and one of the earliest serial killers H.H. Holmes. He spoke out and I was taking notes the entire time, absorbing every word he was saying. When class was over the other students were quick to leave to go to their other classes. 

I collected my stuff and put it into my bag, going up to Hotch who was also putting his thing away. 

He stood up, "How'd I do." I found it cute that he was asking about the class. "It was good, you were nervous?" We started walking up the stairs to the doors. He innocently placed his hand on my lower back in case my ankle gave me any problems he could help me. 

"Yeah", he said laughing nervously. "Mr. FBI, you get nervous? What happened to the badass man I used to know." Hotch looked at me as if saying 'watch it' , "Put me in a police station working a case with other people and I'm fine but I was just worried if I was doing a good job. I never taught a class before." 

"Aaron you did great, don't worry. But I'm sure me being there calmed your nerves a bit", he liked the way his name would roll off my lips. We went through the doors into the hall and he removed his hand. "That it did." 

We both smiled then parted ways.

[guigz1-coldwar]

'Western Brick in the Wall : Part 1' : New chapter for "Always for the greater cause..." is out !

Chapter Summary: The first real mission for Stitch's team can finally begin: infiltrating West-Berlin and track down two enemy agents who got their hands on important documents...

To read it on AO3, click here!

Taglist: @snowgoldwaylon , @clxudtea , @efingart

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23rd February 1981

Yirina 'Bell' Grigoriev, Ex-KGB, Perseus

In the U-Bahn under East-Berlin, Line 6, in the direction of West-Berlin

I thought that we were going to enter West-Berlin by normal means through one of the few checkpoints with fake identity papers for the mission but instead, we had to use the U-Bahn system of the city to actually make our move, something that Stitch has planned for us, knowing that it would be safer for us. After hours of preparation and when the evening came to set down on the city, it was time for us to get out of the safe house to join the U-Bahn.

When we arrived in one of the East-Berlinese U-Bahn stations, the whole team directly installed itself right in the last wagon of the metro that we took, getting ourselves prepared discreetly as they were still a few people in the wagon, descending from time to time to the stations on Line 6. I was installed near the door leading to the second-to-last wagon, Knight was near me, Bellamy was in the middle, standing up as he got to cede his seat to an old woman as Stitch & Wraith were hidden at the end of the wagon.

"For fuck sake, I really had to cede my seat," Bellamy sighed as the last person that wasn't part of the team left the wagon, leaving the full team inside of it. "And to an old woman, come on," He added, wanting to take his seat back but he didn't do it despite the urge on his face.

"At least, you were generous," Knight scoffed, going up from his seat to lock the doors that were leading to the other wagon.

"Oh, just fuck you, Knight," Bellamy cursed loudly, pointing his hand towards Knight that was having his back turned around to lock the door, making me rise from my seat in case.

"Are you two going to stop this or not?" Wraith said from across the wagon, freeing her seat to join the middle near Bellamy. "You two are still acting like fucking children, behave yourself, we've got a job to do!" She clarified as I was staying near Knight, my hand towards his chest, gesturing to not move before shaking my head.

"Yes, that's the thing now," I joined up Wraith on this point, focusing on Bellamy as he was the one starting it. "We're on a mission,"

"Bell is right, I don't want anything from you two over the comms, arguing, understood?" Stitch spoke up, walking towards us from his seat and the two nodded in approval, realizing the situation...for good, I hope. "Are earsets good?" He asked, making everyone check-up the little earset hidden in our ear, me tapping it gently in my right ear.

"I'm good," I replied to him.

"Same for me," Wraith told him as Knight & Bellamy only gestured with a thumb up.

"Okay, knight, light out," Stitch ordered, making a sign to Knight who directly moved towards the control panel of the wagon, shutting down the lights of the wagon, plunging it in darkness. "Wraith, do you have everything good?" He demanded and she nodded. "Everyone remembers their roles tonight?" Everyone nodded to him.

"And if something changes?" Bellamy questioned him, peaking his eyes outside the wagon. the lights of the tunnel and the passing of the other trains lighting up a bit in here.

"Then, we get along with it," I responded to him clearly, Stitch looking at me with a little smile before Wraith looked up.

"We should be in a few seconds in West-Berlin," She guessed as I have remembered to have view the U-Bahn map after our discussion for a long time to prepare exactly & precisely the mission...a true pro...

"Good," Stitch breathed before he starts to walk slowly towards the back door of the wagon, gesturing with his hands to me to follow him. "I & Bell are jumping first to observe the moves of Katinka, Wraith & Knight, you're taking shelter to the store in front of Katinka's hideout and Bellamy, you're assuring the extraction," He reminded everyone before he opens the door with his hands, the noise of the train been heard louder than before as he knelt on one knee. "You're ready, Bell?"

"Of course," I said, nodding at him.

"Let's go then," He told me, tapping the back of my shoulder gently before he jumped first from the train.

I took a deep breath before I jump off the train too, landing on the rails of the tunnel...and almost fall because my feet tapped against one of the wooden planks on the ground, feeling so ridiculous as Stitch was looking at me and it was unsure if he was laughing or not on his face even if he was without a mask. The only thing he did was shake his head, his eyes rolling up.

"Here's the ghost station, it's our entrance to the West," Stitch exclaimed, taking out a silenced pistol as we were walking on the rails discreetly.

"Sure that it's safe?" I asked, staying behind him as he was the one leading the way to me.

"The HVA was using this ghost station to slip some of their agents in West Berlin, abandoned by them a year ago and even the Americans didn't spot it," He replied, reassuring me as we entered a little maintenance room to join the bay of the station, finding actually no one that could disturb us in our moves, not even on the other bay as the train was covering us in case. "There should be a ladder inside," He pointed out towards another locked door that he opened easily.

"I'm climbing first," I volunteered myself as there was a black ladder at the end of the room and Stitch nodded, approving my choice.

I put down my gun for the moment as I put my hands on the ladder to climb up slowly to reach the surface and when I was going to arrive near the trap of the surface, I was able to hear what was the weather outside: all rainy, hearing the sounds of the drops falling on the manhole...the same time we're been having for days now and West-Berlin has to have it too...things are never changing here.

It's with a sigh that I opened the manhole from the inside, getting greeted by the heavy drop of rain on my face, causing me to put on the hood of my blue sweater before actually got up back on my feet, finally breathing some fresh air from the outside...feeling so good but also good enough to catch a cold. I took a breath before turning around to help Stitch that was going up from the ladder, offering my hand to help him.

"Thanks, Bell," He said, taking my hand in his, helping him to get on the surface before passing his hands on his pants, cleaning up some dust on it. "Welcome to West-Berlin," He scoffed, closing the manhole behind him once he was done.

"Not changing from the East for the moment," I stated as I was looking around, we were in a small alley that was surely near the Berlin Wall, finding it in the same state that was around the safe house.

"The Germans..." Stitch sighed before he took a look around with me, his eye getting on a locked door, "We should get to the roof before someone caught us here," He exclaimed, starting to move towards a red locked door as I was staying behind him, him trying to discreetly open the door without making too many noises.

"I thought that we were going to be stopped by guards," I said to him, my silenced M1911 in my hands, my eyes on the way to get to the street.

"Me too, Bellamy said that the West-German police was somehow going to be on alert because of a leak," He revealed to me, the talk seemingly making him less focused on unlocking that door and it was looking like I was going to force open it with my feet if he was going to be this long. "We stay aware and...finally, it's open," He told me, able to open the door without me and let me enter the building.

"We're near Checkpoint Charlie, right?" I demanded to him.

"Yes, Krypto & Katinka are meeting in the bar nearby, we're here to make sure Katinka has the briefcase and that the meeting is taking place," He responded, closing the door and locking it again to make sure that no one was going to come here. "Lead the way, I'm behind you," He ordered, making me get upstairs as the first thing I saw when entering the place was directly that.

I complied as I moved up on the wooden stairs before arriving at a locked door, opening in less time than Stitch did before and again, back into the outside air, finding myself on the roof and having a big view over the Berlin Wall, seeing its full layout, a No Man's Land between two big walls, patrols with dogs & watchtowers with spotlights, watching over the area to search any person trying to pass the Wall but it would be suicide.

"The Soviets did really make quite a job," I spoke to myself as Stitch was arriving behind me, closing the door again before he took up the lead, walking towards the ridge at a few meters while avoiding the spotlight that was trying to light up the roof but the red sign with letters on the roof allowed us to move without any problem, the ridge out of sight from the spotlight.

"In time," Stitch sighed, kneeling on his right knee near the ridge, overlooking the checkpoint that was at its full usefulness. "Bell, take your camera, see if you can spot Katinka," He ordered, prompting me to take out the camera I was given by Wraith for the mission. "Try to watch any person that could hold a briefcase," He clarified as my eyes were looking right through the camera.

I was looking at everything around the side of the checkpoint, seeing only the car that was getting frisked along with its occupants by the American guards, thinking at first that I was finding that Katinka before I moved a little to see the person that wasn't using a car, spotting a woman with blond hair, with a black briefcase & a brown umbrella in each hand, walking towards the checkpoint.

"I got her: the woman with a brown umbrella," I announced to Stitch, pointing my hand discreetly towards her position she was as she got stopped by a guard by the moment she arrived near the checkpoint.

"The guard is letting her pass," Stitch commented after Katinka pulled out something from her white coat with her right hand to the guard before he let her pass after moving away from her. "Must have been important, the Americans can't let her pass despite the alert they are," He added.

"That's also meaning that she got what we need," I raised my shoulders, still looking at Katinka that was walking towards the bar of the meeting before moving my eyes away from the camera, putting it back inside my jacket, "Do we move?"

"Yes, we had to," Stitch got up from his spot before quickly walking away and following him out of the roof, taking another direction to leave it, passing through some stairs inside the building before we landed on the ground, inside another alley, with a path towards the street. "Shit, it's looking like the police are on high alert," Stitch said, seeing the multiple policemen around the street.

"It might be too dangerous for you to get in that bar, I presume?" I presumed, meaning that it was the first change of plan of the whole mission, Stitch could be recognized by some around and we couldn't risk that.

"Yeap but I know that you can do it, I'll stay here to watch over the place," He assured me about my skills as I took a deep breath, walking with Stitch near the street. "My contact inside is from the Stasi, he's wearing a black leather jacket, brown hair and has a red umbrella," He explained, giving me better details about the person that we were supposed to meet together.

"I'm on my way," I breathed, leaving Stitch alone to engage myself inside the street sidewalk.

The police were looking very suspiciously and I couldn't let myself got stop by them, having no fake identity papers with me, just an earset and a silenced M1911 in my jacket but hopefully, my clothes weren't looking too much suspicious, much adapted to that side of the city. I walked through the pedestrian crossing of the street to join the bar where this Zasha and Katinka were supposed to meet, the name of the bar wasn't so important for me now.

I took a quick look inside through one of the main windows, perceiving Katinka with her back turned against the front door of the place, sit on a table and all alone, having put her briefcase and umbrella near it before I decided to enter the place, passing the front door and removing the hood of my jacket after having it on top of me since I stepped out of that manhole cover.

My eyes went directly towards the end of the bar, having found with them, the contact that Stitch mentioned to me: a man with brown hair and having a red umbrella leaned against the table he was staying on, making me walk to him.

"Hey, good to see you," I faked to know the man, having to act like normal friends with him.

"Oh, that's you, have a seat," The man greeted me with a smile, offering his hand for shaking and I complied before he pointed at me, the seat in front of me, sitting down on it. "So, you're 'Bell'? From Stitch's team?" He asked me clearly in a low voice.

"Yes, and you?" I asked him back,

"Franz Kraus, affiliated with Volkov, ex-Stasi," He replied to me, putting his hands on the table, palms against it. "Are your team listening?" He demanded, gesturing with his head to my ears.

"Of course," I reassured him, putting my hand above my right ear. "Is the sound clear for everything?" I questioned the others through the earset, receiving a big yes from Stitch, Bellamy & Knight, and an all nice for me from Wraith...very different from the others, I can say.

"Katinka Goodman is at the table near the entrance, you should have seen her when you come in," He said, keeping his eyes on me as I was making furtive looks to where Katinka was, still seeing her alone.

"Do you know why the police are looking agitated?" I demanded at him curiously, seeing through the window near us, the police cars outside.

"Rumors said that the police are after some HVA agents, our informant inside the BND still in East-Berlin managed to tell us about it," He responded to me, tapping with his left hand on the table as, near it, there was a little plate with cute snacks on it, giving me the idea to take them for me. "Apart of it, I shouldn't be here in the West," He added, probably talking to himself, profiting that he was looking away to take those snacks inside my jacket. "But anyway, it's part of the job, got a kid & a wife to take care," He sighed, pulling out of his jacket a pack of cigarettes, taking only one after I gestured that I didn't want one.

"Katinka is looking rather nervous," I suggested, seeing her from afar, tapping with her feet on the ground, her hands on the table.

"To what I heard from her, she needs to be taken seriously, she ain't someone to joke with," He explained, his voice actually meaning it and he was looking sure of his words at me. "She's..."

"Wait, there's someone coming to look at her," I interrupted him as I could see a man dressed in black, directly going to whisper something inside Katinka's right ear before he left, soon followed by her. "Shit, she's leaving," I cursed.

"Bell, get out, the police is coming in," Stitch warned me as the second after he speaks that four policemen entered the bar, "I'm going into hiding," He added before his earset went shut on all the team.

"Bell, join me at the store near Katinka's hideout, Bellamy told me that she's walking back to it," Wraith ordered to me, me trying to not panic as the policemen were starting to check up everybody.

"Don't worry, I've got something," Kraus reassured me before he looked in the direction of the bar counter, a group of three men dressed in blacks like the other man, and Kraus made a sign to them with his head before one of them starts to walk towards the policemen group.

"Hey, asshole, take that," The man shouted before he literally throws a punch on the first policeman he approached, causing a brawl to spark inside the bar, Kraus's men engaging the policemen.

"Go, now!" Kraus ordered to me and I nodded, having given me the perfect opportunity to leave the bar without any problem.

That brawl was going to put some attention to every cop around in the sector, passing next to it and not taking care about who was winning or losing before heading out the bar by the same door I came in as some cops were coming in to help their friends in needs, not paying attention to, and then, I needed to go into the store where Wraith & Knight should've been waiting for me.

I thought at first that I was going to get myself lost inside the streets of West-Berlin as Katinka's hideout was a few streets away from the bar but thanks to having studied the layout of the sector with some maps back at the safe house instead of staying on my ass on a chair as Bellamy did, I managed to remember the way to get to the store, avoiding, of course, the few cops that weren't running away to calm the brawl at the bar.

It took me 5 minutes to get myself to the store, passing in front of the place where Bellamy was waiting for us before arriving near a grilled door, Knight at the other side of it and by seeing me arrive, he opened it widely.

"Here you are, you did nose or what?" He asked me in a serious voice, letting me enter the alley he was waiting in. "They're talking about a brawl inside the bar," He clarified himself about what he was asking about.

"Yes, Kraus's men did one to let me away without any suspicions," I replied to him before he closes the grilled door, and then walking next to a door.

"Wraith is inside, she's waiting for you," Knight told me as he opened the door leading inside the store. "I'll be waiting here in the case for Stitch," I nodded to him before I stepped inside the store, looking like an electronics store but then, as I was walking to get to Wraith that was near the window, earsets around her head and holding a strange device, something weird happens.

There were one of the TV that was shut off completely in the middle shelf but when I approached it, it suddenly goes on, showing me pictures of...various things...Rebirth Island...a red door inside a big hallway...some archives from the Vietnam War...and then....

"Bell! Bell!" A voice spoke up, getting me out of my thoughts as I could see Wraith, standing near me, looking worried, her hands on my right arm. "Hey, you're okay?" She asked me.

"I...this TV turned on by itself," I said, gesturing towards the TV in question that was now shut off.

"Bell, are you sure you're fine?" She questioned me, keeping her hands on me to reassure me.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine," I told her, shaking my head, thinking that it was just my head messing up, knowing that it was some side effects of my one-month coma as reported by Stitch before. "Uhm...what's the situation?" I demanded to her, finding a better voice for me to talk with.

"Katinka just came back and got called by Smirnov, the meeting's place has changed," She answered, gently tapping my right arm before she walks back to her spot, kneeling with one knee on the ground. "Someone warned them," She added.

"Shit," I muttered, looking at my feet. "But we aren't aborting, right?"

"Nope, we need someone to enter her apartment and put a tracker inside that briefcase she's holding around," She confirmed her determination to do her job, taking out from a bag that was posed on the ground near her, a green hood along with a little tracking device. "You're the one doing it, you got the lockpicks," She exclaimed, handing me the two things in my hands.

"And the hood? What it is for?" I was curious about its usefulness here, taking it nonetheless.

"It's to use when you will enter her hideout, we can't risk having our faces recognized," She explained to me as I was looking hesitant to actually go inside her hideout. "Listen, Bell, I know that you can do this, you're the best," She affirmed, myself wanting to say that I couldn't be the best but it was nice from her anyway.

"Okay, I will do it," I grinned at her, getting the hood and the tracker inside my jacket before taking a look at the window Wraith was focusing her strange device, that was in fact a listening device to hear discussions from afar...very stupid from me..."I'll do my best," I admitted before taking a deep breath and joining the front door to get on the street...

"Bell," Wraith's voice stopped me in my moves, just having my hands on the front door handle, looking worried on her face but still with a little smile...

"Don't worry, I'll be your eyes, I've got hope on you,"

[ohmygarlands]

Just a Memory

Gene’s body moved fluidly, rocking back and forth over his wife as they made love. The warm light on the bedside table illuminated Betsy beautifully, and he couldn’t help but keep his eyes on hers. It had been weeks since they were intimate. Gene enlisted in the Naval Air Service and was stationed in D.C. He would come home on a pass when he could depending on whether or not he was needed. In many ways, the time apart wound up strengthening his relationship with Betsy. They had hit troubled waters a while back when Judy had entered their lives:

While filming For Me & My Gal, it was widely speculated among gossip columns - which didn’t take long to reach the people they knew -  that Judy and Gene shared more than just a close friendship. Their affair did indeed go on both during and for a little while after filming. The love they shared, however, was real and for many reasons, it scared both of them to death. Both were married, and Gene had a new baby at home. He loved Betsy, and always had but there was something different about Judy. Judy aroused not only his body but his soul. She could keep him in a trance whenever they were together, one that would linger for hours after she had left. It brought him to his knees when he had to make the decision to take the moral high ground, parting ways with Judy to focus on his family. Begrudgingly, Judy let him off the end of her line. While Gene’s marriage was thriving, however, hers had faded to dust. It wasn’t long after that that her and David separated, and she found herself single and in the snakepit of Hollywood.

Though Gene’s marriage was thriving, it was no easy path. One does not simply move on from Judy Garland. Her memory lingered in his mind, her voice would come through his car radio every night on his drive home from the studio, they were busy on opposite ends of the lot shooting two different films yet would somehow always manage to stop by the commissary at the exact same time. It was as though he was drawn to her like a magnet, like there was some kind of invisible string attaching them both at the waist and no matter how many times he tried to cut it, it wouldn’t break.

It took enlisting in the Naval Air Service for the pain of missing her to finally subside. Even then, it was still there, it just became easier to deal with. His mind was elsewhere and he began missing Betsy more and more, every day that he was away. The love letters he once used to exchange with Judy, he was now exchanging with his wife. Her letters were the highlight of his day, he craved to hear how Kerry was getting along and Betsy never failed to include photos.

His body buckled on top of hers and he leaned down, placing a soft kiss against her cheek.

“Alright, that settles it… you’re staying in D.C. indefinitely,” Betsy panted with a sly smile.

“What do you mean?” He rolled off of her, pulling a cigarette off the nightstand.

“The way you make love when you’re home on a pass, I’ve been married to you for years, I’ve never felt anything like it,” she grinned.

Gene laughed, taking a drag from his cigarette before turning his expression serious, “There are no women there, Bets… I only have men to look at, day in and day out, you’ll be lucky if we leave this bed all weekend.”

“Good,” she softly smiled, dragging her arm over his waist and cuddling into his chest, “except…” she began.

“What?” He asked, blowing another cloud of smoke from his lips.

“There’s… a chance I may have… accidentally… on purpose… told everybody you were home this weekend,” she bit her thumbnail.

Gene sighed, “Where are we going?” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“A bunch of your pals from the studio are going out to Ciro’s tomorrow night, I told them we’d be there to have a drink and a few laughs.”

“That doesn’t sound too terrible,” he smiled.

“They’re very excited to see you.”

Gene’s curiosity peaked, he stubbed out his cigarette before scooching back down on the bed, “who’s ‘they’?”

“Oh, you know, everybody… Pete, Frank, Phil…”

“I see,” he lowered his eyes, “Well, it’s a date then. I guess I’ll make an exception for them,” he grinned, rolling over and kissing her passionately.

The next evening, once Kerry was settled with the babysitter, Gene and Betsy made a swift exit, heading towards Beverly Hills. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one holding her fingers between his. Betsy couldn’t help but smile at her husband’s affections. She couldn’t remember the last time he was so attentive to her.

Gene took Betsy’s coat along with his and checked it before they headed into the club. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to a big table in the corner with a crowd of familiar faces shouting to him. He flashed that charming smile of his and with Betsy on his arm, made his way to the group.

“Well, look who the cat dragged in!” Phil Silvers teased, jumping from his chair.

“Hey you big lug!” Gene matched his excitement.

“Good to see ya! How the hell have you been?” Phil pulled out a chair for him and before Gene could answer, a cute blonde waitress appeared behind him looking for his drink order. He ordered a beer for himself and a glass of Chardonnay for Betsy.

“So they decided to let you free for a few days, huh?”

“Oh, the National Guard couldn’t keep me from coming home, my friend!” He said, putting his arm around Betsy.

“Well, you look better than ever! The Navy agrees with you!” Lucille Ball chimed in, exhaling smoke from her cigarette.

“Thank you,” he bowed his head.

“So what’ve they been keeping you busy with out East?” Frank asked.

“Well, it was a fight at first but I was stationed in the photographic section of the Air Service, I’m in charge of writing and directing various projects, in fact I just put the finishing touches on a training video I’ve been working before I came home. It’s called Combat Fatigue Irritability. The title is self explanatory…” He trailed off, it was a particularly heavy piece of material.

“Wow, you just can’t get away from the camera can you? You run off to join the Navy and you’re still stuck making pictures!”

“Now, come on, he can’t help it with a face like that!” Phil tossed his arm around his neck, pulling him in to give him a noogie. When Gene managed to break free, he cradled the base of his beer, twirling it around in his hand as he continued to laugh. The group had trailed off into another conversation with Betsy and when Gene looked up again, his wide smile quickly vanished.

There she was. There she fucking was. He wondered as he and Betsy were getting ready to leave if he would see Judy tonight. Ciro’s was practically a second home to her when they were together, he knew there would be a solid chance they’d meet again. But as prepared as he thought he was to see her, he couldn’t have imagined it would feel this way. His eyes were glued to her as the rest of the world seemingly faded away and she walked in slow motion with the arm of another gentleman around her waist. Her flowing hair - which was much darker than he remembered it, a little shorter too - bouncing at her shoulders, that unmistakable laugh echoing in his mind. His eyes drifted out of curiosity to the man who held her by the waist, it was Joe Mankiewicz, a relatively well known writer and producer at the studio. He was also known to be a bit of a leech... and to be a bit married. Gene could feel his jaw tighten as he curled his hands into a fist under the table when he saw Joe’s hand slide further down Judy’s backside as he led her to the bar.

That’s not my beautiful girlfriend, he thought to himself.

She is not mine anymore, he repeated in his head.

Betsy glanced over at her husband, immediately noticing his transfixed stare. When she looked in the direction he was, her own heart fell to her stomach. Judy Garland was a name she had heard all too often over the last two years. When the gossip columnists began writing about their suspected affair, everyone on the block was calling her. She couldn’t bring herself to believe the rumours but something about Gene’s demeanour changed when she was around. He became an empty shell when he was at home, even going so far as to flinch whenever Betsy would touch him. At the time, she chalked it up to the heavy pressure the studio was putting on him. They were both new to Hollywood, he wasn’t used to the schedules he kept. With that in mind, Gene managed to convince her the rumours were just that, a rumour. When Gene began to return to his normal self, she dared question it. She had been waiting for him to look at her again the way he used to, with his devoted love and admiration. But his expression now was one she had never seen before.

“Mr. Kelly, Earth to Kelly…” Frank interjected, waving his hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his reverie.

“What?”

“You ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Frank turned to look where he had been and when he saw Judy, it all came together. Frank was one of the only people who knew of their affair. It wasn’t his choice though, he had walked in on them fooling around in an empty rehearsal hall. From that day forward, he had acted as a scapegoat and alibi when he was needed, and tonight he delivered just the same. He glanced over at Betsy and immediately drew her attention away from Gene, making small talk about FDR being reelected president.

Gene sat stone faced, holding his beer in his hands. His eyes had lost sight of Judy but she was racing a mile a minute in his mind. The large nightclub suddenly felt like a tiny room with the walls slowly caving in. He frantically pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and when he felt Betsy’s hand land on his thigh under the table, he leapt up from his chair.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, knowing full well what the problem was but choosing to ignore the screaming voice in her head.

“I’m just going out for a smoke, it’s hot in here, isn’t it hot in here? I’ll be back…” He explained, darting for the entrance to the back patio.

He leaned over the railing, allowing the smoke to fall freely from his lips. The wind blew unseasonably hot that night, he could feel it stinging his face as he looked out onto Sunset Blvd. Gene had dated his fair share of women before Betsy came along, he had experience with ex girlfriends… but this, for some strange reason, felt like uncharted territory. What was this hold she had on him?

“I thought that was you,” her voice emanated from behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment before he could muster up the courage to turn around.

“Surprise,”

Judy took a few steps closer, placing herself in front of the railing beside him. She fished her own cigarette out of her purse and when she struggled with her lighter, Gene flicked his, placing the flame at the end of her smoke.

“Thanks,”

Gene nodded, shoving it back in his pocket.

“So what’s your excuse?” He asked.

“My what?”

“Your excuse for smoking outside. What did you tell him?”

Judy glanced down at her hands that gripped the wooden handrail, “Same as yours, needed some air.”

“How do you know that was mine?”

“Because I know you,”

“Joseph Mankiewicz, huh?” He said, staring forward.

“Stop it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know a judgmental tone when I hear one. You have absolutely no right, so don’t you dare say another word.”

“You know he’s married, right?”

Judy paused for a moment before she answered him, “That never stopped you.”

“Touche,”

“Besides, you know nothing about him or us so why don’t you stay out of it?”

“Maybe I’m out of line here, Judy, but just what exactly are you doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

“With him? I know who Joe is, I know YOU know who Joe is, are you… are you together? What is that?” He asked, gesturing towards the door that led back into the club.

“He loves me, he promised to marry me just as soon as he knows his wife is taken care of. She’s sick, you know.”

“Yes, I know. That’s so fucked up, Judy. You’re so fucked up.”

“Remember when you said you might be out of line?” She sneered.

“Do you truly believe anything he says?”

“Why do you care?! Why do you care if I believe what he says? Why do you care if we’re together?”

“I don’t… know, I don’t know why I care. I just, I fucking hate that guy and I know you’re better than that, you’re better than him. This is not who you are.”

“Who am I, darling?”

Gene looked away, turning his attention to another couple slow dancing to the faint music coming from inside on the other end of the patio.

“Look at me!”

Slowly, he turned to meet her gaze, “I don’t know who you are anymore, Garland. How could I?”

“Look, I’m happy for you. I know you’ve been getting along with Betsy, that was your goal wasn’t it? To put your family back together, and you have. I’m so fucking happy for you, I could just vomit. Now why don’t you give me the same respect, huh?”

“I’m trying,” he replied softly, “I got over you, Judy. I’m over you.”

Judy leaned in closer to him, her chin nearly resting on his shoulder, “No you’re not.”

Just then, Betsy came out onto the patio in search of her husband. The door swinging open caused them both to turn around.

“Betsy!” Judy exclaimed enthusiastically with a wide smile.

“Hello…” she said softly, her eyes locked on Gene.

“So nice to see you again!” The over delighted tone in Judy’s voice made Gene wince.

“You too,” she said, accepting a half hug.

“Well, listen, I better get back to my date. Lovely chatting with you again, Gene. I’ll see you around, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, facing forward again.

Betsy replaced Judy at the railing and she looked at her husband, searching for answers she didn’t want to hear. Gene took the last drag from his cigarette before flicking it over the balcony, feeling Betsy’s inquisitive gaze.

“Shall we go back inside?” He asked, ignoring the tension between them.

“I think I’d like to go home,”

“Go home? Bets, we just got here barely an hour ago.”

“If you don’t mind…”

Gene and Betsy drove down Sunset, heading towards Rodeo. Betsy leaned forward, drowning the silence by turning on the radio. She fiddled with the dial until she landed on a rerun of a Bob Hope comedy special. As soon as she leaned back in the seat, Judy’s voice came through the speaker singing I Never Knew I Could Love Anybody the Way I’m Loving You. In true Garland fashion, she was following them again. Hovering over their marriage like an ominous cloud. Betsy glanced at her husband and immediately noticed that jaw tighten again before he changed the channel.

“Why did you turn that off?” She asked, accusingly.

“I’ve heard it before,” he replied with a blank tone.

The air was silent between them for a moment.

“Did you sleep with her?” She blurted.

“What?” Gene almost swerved into the oncoming lane.

“Gene!”

“I’m sorry, why did you ask me that?”

“Because I’m not daft, Gene. I wasn’t born yesterday. I saw the way she looked at you, and even worse, the way you looked at her. You’re a different person when she’s around. I don’t like you when she’s around, and I don’t like you right now.”

“How am I different, Bets? Because I wanted to leave the club?”

“You haven’t looked me in the eye since I saw you standing outside with her. You’re afraid to, you’re hiding.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Listen, things have been going really well between us over the last year, I’m happy with you now and there was a time when I wasn’t. I don’t want to move backwards, Gene… I don’t want to be scared of coming in second anymore.”

“Betsy! You’re not second, I thought we were past this. I thought you didn’t believe those damn Hopper columns.”

“I will only ask you once more and then I promise to drop this… Did you or did you not have an affair with her?”

Gene thought for a moment, torn over his answer. He pulled the car over, turned off the ignition and looked her straight in the eye.

“No,” he said defiantly, “I did not sleep with her, we did not have an affair.”

Betsy smiled relieved, placing her hand on his cheek. His skin felt hot to the touch. The accusations of their affair took him back to a painful time that he wanted to remain in the past.

“Thank you,”

“Can we go home now?” He asked, placing his hand on top of hers.

When Gene returned to Washington, he continued to repair his relationship with Betsy but it wasn’t long before Betsy began to pull back. Her letters to him became further and further apart, and with a full workload, it was easy for Gene to get swept up in his duties. He couldn’t pay attention to what was happening back home, there was only so much he could do from afar.

One evening, he returned to his barracks with a letter in hand. He hadn’t bothered to look at the envelope, he assumed it was from Betsy and he was beyond tired after working a fourteen hour stretch. He flopped down on the cot and tore the letter open, tossing the envelope onto the blanket beside him. His heavy eyes flew wide open when he noticed the slanted handwriting he was all too familiar with.

Gene,

I agonized over writing this letter. What can I say? Where do I begin?

I know how you love to be right about everything – so I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of knowing you were right about everything regarding Joe. He doesn’t love me. Did I ever really love him? I don’t think so. Know how I know? I’m not all that upset. When you broke up with me, I cried for days. I barely shed a tear for Joe. What does that mean? I shouldn’t be asking you that. That’s not fair…  I know our ship has sailed. Remember when I told you you weren’t over me? I know that you are. I know you’ve moved on. I can see it in your eyes, I could see it in the way you looked at me that night. It’s me, Gene. I’m the one who couldn’t move on. I think about you every time the phone rings, I think about you every time I play a record, you’re a constant white noise in my head and I don’t know how to stop it. I wish I could turn it off, but I can’t. I meant it when I said I was happy for you, darling, truly I did. But when do I get to be happy? When is it my turn? If only you could show me how.

Gene’s grip tightened on the letter. He turned the paper over expecting there to be more, but the sheet was blank. He flipped it back over, raising an eyebrow at its abrupt end. She always signed off on her letters.

Arriving home after another late night at Ciro’s with the girls, Judy trudged up to her bedroom. Tossing her shall onto the chaise lounge, she walked over to her vanity to grab a pack of cigarettes before changing into her night clothes. Her eyes were immediately drawn to an empty spot on the desk just below her mirror. The spot she was sure she had left the letter she wrote to Gene. She dropped the pack of cigarettes and her heart plummeted into her stomach. She tore through the vanity, checking in every little drawer and under a pile of magazines she kept. It was nowhere to be found. She had a few too many to drink that night at Ciro’s and for a moment she couldn’t remember if maybe she had moved it. She darted downstairs, tearing through the living room, in her bookshelves, on the fireplace. It had to be here somewhere she thought.

“Miss Garland?” Her housekeeper who often stayed the night to keep Judy company came in, barely awake, “What are you doing?”

Judy swung around, trying to remain composed, “Uhm.. I’m, just, I’m looking for something.”

“May I help?”

“No, no, you go on back to bed… I know it’s here some place.”

“What is it you’re looking for?”

“It was a letter I had on my desk, it’s gone.”

“Oh,” Pearl laughed, “Darling, I mailed it out for you earlier today. You were out of stamps but I took it to the post office along with a few other pieces I had.”

“You WHAT?!” Judy held her hands over her face as she felt every limb go numb.

“You didn’t want it mailed?”

“No, I didn’t want it mailed, Pearl! ...Oh my God, I think I’m going to faint,” she breathed, pacing back and forth before falling into the armchair. “Alright, well you mailed it today? Maybe there’s a way I can get it back. I can go first thing in the morning, I can have the post office retrieve the letter for me.”

“Why don’t you get some sleep, huh? Don’t panic. I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

When Judy arrived at the Post Office the next morning before her early call at the studio, she was told the mail had been sent out the previous afternoon and there was no way to intercept delivery. With her heart in her throat, all she could do was accept her fate. Gene would receive the letter – the letter that was only meant to be written, not sent.

As each day passed without a response, her anxiety raised. Luckily, she was catapulted into work on The Harvey Girls and was in the midst of recording an album for Decca Records which acted as a temporary distraction. Her personal life inadvertently took a backseat to her professional one.

It felt like a year had passed, but it had only been a month since the letter had been sent. She was filming on an exterior train set, recording In the Valley (Where the Evenin’ Sun Goes Down). The crew were mesmerized, her voice came through louder than the playback, even for such a soft song. The day she filmed a musical number was always a favourite for anyone who worked with her. Standing in a darkened area by an unused camera in the back of the sound stage, Gene watched her as she leaned back against the train. He couldn’t take his eyes from her, she had never looked more beautiful than she did in that very moment. He wasn’t sure if maybe it was because he hadn’t seen her in months or if because she truly had never been more beautiful. Once again, she looked different, as she always did when there had been a significant absence between them. She looked more mature, he thought.

The song came to a close and when George called cut, Judy leapt off the train set and made her way to the director’s chair to discuss an idea on how she could improve the last shot. Gene stepped out from the back of the sound stage, his hands in his pockets as he slowly walked towards her. Judy was so focused on a particular idea that it took a few moments for her eyes to raise over George’s shoulder. When finally she saw him heading her direction with such a warm demeanour, she softly smiled a smile that matched his. She was confused to see him. She hadn’t been made aware, even in her social circle that he was home again. Judy politely excused herself from the director and began walking towards him.

“Hi,” he grinned.

“What are you doing here?” She asked in a warm tone.

“I’m home for a while… I heard you singing.”

“You know, you’re not allowed on a closed set,” she teased.

“I couldn’t help it. Your voice is magnetizing.”

Judy lowered her stare to the floor between them, the thoughts raced through her mind a mile a minute. She wanted to come right out and ask him if he received her letter but she couldn’t bear to face it. He hadn’t said a thing about it, he never even bothered to answer – maybe he never received it, she thought… and hoped. She remembered a few times her letters to David had been misdelivered when he served.

“I’ll be home for a good long while,” he began again, speaking softly, “and I’d like to see you.”

“You would?”

“If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Of course.”

Judy was promptly called back to the set but before she turned to leave, she asked him to stick around for another take, explaining that she thought she messed up somewhere in the outro. Gene agreed to stay, anything to keep his eyes on her even for just a few minutes more. He reached down and took her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles before she turned and walked back to set.

Judy nailed the next take from start to finish. She often credited Gene for giving her her strength and confidence. She always performed her best when he was in the vicinity. As the A.D. helped her off the train all the while singing her praises, Judy only desired and eagerly anticipated Gene‘s thought. When she came around the train set, her exuberance fell the moment she realized the spot he was standing in was now empty. She glanced around the sound stage but he was nowhere to be found.

It was nearly 10:30pm when Judy was finally dismissed. After changing into her street clothes, she walked tiredly to the parking lot with a cigarette in hand daydreaming of slipping into her pyjamas and crawling into bed the moment she got home. The exhaustion from consecutive late nights and long days were quickly catching up to her. As she approached the row of reserved parking spots, she noticed a dark figure leaning on the hood of her car, smoke billowing from its mouth.

“Well, aren’t you the elusive one?” She said when she realized it was, of course, Gene. His arms were crossed and he turned around to look at her.

“I’m so sorry, Judy, I forgot I had a meeting on the other end of the lot with Freed, I needed to haul ass. You have a tendency to make me forget those kinds of things,” he winked. “I was beginning to think they’d never let you outta there.”

“You and me both, darling,” she said under her breath as she joined Gene and leaned against the hood.

“Again, however, I find myself asking what are you doing here?”

“I said I wanted to see you again. You said it was alright,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I didn’t think you meant in the MGM parking lot,”

“Let go for a drive,” he beamed.

“Now?” She checked her watch, “it’s getting late,”

“Late? It’s barely eleven o’clock. I’m away for six months and you become a lark. That’s it, I’m never leaving this town again,” he teased.

Judy faintly laughed, sighing at the end.

“I won’t keep you, honestly, I’d just like to talk… please? Let’s drive for awhile.”

Gene and Judy drove down Overland, heading North with no real purpose or destination in mind. Gene kept stealing glances at Judy while the radio played a Bing Crosby tune. As he glanced over at her, staring straight ahead as though she were terrified to look at him, he couldn’t help but smile.

“So you’re not over me, huh?” He blurted.

Judy winced immediately, “fuck…”

Gene laughed.

“That letter was not meant for your eyes, I am beyond embarrassed.”

“It wasn’t? My name written on the envelope kinda threw me off.”

“I wrote that letter for myself, as a sort of diary. I thought if I got my thoughts down on paper, I could move on, get past this, us… and my half wit housekeeper went and mailed it to you,” she pursed her lips together, trying to hide a self deprecating smile.

“Sure, I’ll pretend for a moment to believe that,” he smirked.

“It’s the truth! Do you honestly think I’d send you a letter like that knowing full well the effort you’ve put into fixing your family?”

“Honestly, yes,” he half-teased.

“Ouch…”

There was a moment of silence between them, the air that was light moments ago turned strained.

“I am so sorry, Gene… I didn’t want to jeopardize the progress you and Betsy made. It was not my intention.”

“I know it wasn’t,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry I–,”

“Stop saying you’re sorry. Whether that letter was sent by accident or not, I was meant to receive it. I needed to hear what you had to say.”

“How come you never wrote me back?” She asked earnestly.

Gene sort of shrugged his shoulders, “what can I say? I like keeping you on your toes,” he smirked again, lightening the air between them once more.

“You’re an ass.”

Gene pulled off the main road, turning down a path that led to a quiet garden. The park was completely dark but it gave them the privacy both were looking for. He pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine.

“May I ask what happened with Joe?” He pried, turning to look at her.

Judy shook her head, not in a way that was saying ‘no’ but in a way that indicated absurdity.

“That night at Ciro’s,” She began, “he took me home, he made love to me and then he told me I had to leave because,” she paused for a moment, the muscles in her neck flaring, “his wife was coming home early the next morning so they could celebrate their anniversary.” Gene tried to hide the I-told-you-so expression as she continued, “I had found a necklace in his sock drawer a few days before that, and I guess I thought it was a gift for me... It was for her. Doesn’t quite sound like a man on the brink of leaving his wife, does it?” She said with a mirthless smile.

“No, no it doesn’t.”

“I left his house that night, I didn’t hear from him again until several weeks later. I told him to go to hell. He didn’t even fight for me.”

“I’m sorry, I really am. But what did you expect involving yourself with a married man?”

“I was involved with you,” she retorted.

“That’s different, and you know it,” he said, “I love my family, Judy,” he added, staring at the steering wheel in front of him, “I love my wife,”

“I know,”

“But if I love her so much, why the fuck can’t I stop thinking about you?” He said, almost getting angry, “When I was reading your letter, it was like I could have written it to you. You are exactly that, a fucking white noise that I can’t turn off. Everything reminds me of you, I can’t escape you… and to be perfectly honest, I think it’s because I don’t want to escape you.”

“Darling…”

“I tried to write you back, believe me I fucking tried. But what was I supposed to say? What more can I say to you? I don’t regret choosing my family, I will never regret anything that has to do with my daughter but why can’t I stop loving you?”

“For the same reason I can’t. There is something real here. It’s the metaphorical elephant in the room that never leaves, not for a second.”

“So what do we do about it?” 

“I haven’t a clue,” She sighed.

Gene smiled tenderly and raised his arm over her, gesturing for her to slide in to him. She shoved towards him on the seat and rested her head on his shoulder as he held her. For the first time in months, they relished in their physical contact. Gene placed a soft kiss atop her head, all the while inhaling her sweet and familiar scent. When his lips separated from her hair, Judy looked up at him with her mouth slightly parted. Her lips had never looked more inviting.

“Gene,” she whispered almost inaudibly. That was his queue to take the next step and capture her in a delicate yet heated kiss. His palm raised to her cheek before he allowed his fingers to gently graze down the side of her neck. The feel of him gave her instant goosebumps as their mouths continued in perfect harmony.

“Do you still want me?” She murmured, her lips still attached to his. Gene reached for her hand and slowly began to guide it to his trousers that were tented from his solid arousal.

“For as long as I live, I will always want you,” He answered.

He undid the zipper, reaching inside to pull himself out before placing her bare hand on him. He couldn’t help the deep groan that escaped his lips when he finally felt her around him again. He caught her in another desperate kiss as her small, delicate hand moved up and down his swollen flesh. Judy swung her leg over him and carefully lifted herself onto his lap with his assistance. He quickly began working at the buttons on her cashmere sweater, eagerly trying to free her to him. He let out a deep breath as he slid his hands over her chest to push the sweater off her shoulders. She was instantly bare to him – there was something so unbelievably erotic about her choice not to wear a bra after a long day. He smiled before lowering his mouth to her breasts, kissing and sucking each one. The waves of pleasure that coursed through her body and met up between her legs were quickly becoming unbearable.

“I’ve missed you,” he purred between kisses. Judy leaned forward, enveloping his head with her arms as she ran her dainty fingers through his jet black hair.

Judy lifted onto her knees while Gene guided his throbbing arousal through the leg of her panties. She shaped her mouth into an O as he slid effortlessly inside her. He gripped her thighs which were now much thinner than he remembered and dug his fingertips into her skin as she began to ride him faster and faster. When she went particularly hard on the up motion, her bottom hit the horn on his steering wheel, sending an obnoxiously loud sound echoing into the empty park. Judy immediately dove her face into Gene’s chest as she stifled a roaring laugh. Gene held her body against his as his lips pursed together, desperately trying not to ruin the moment.

“I’m sorry,” she snorted.

“Don’t be,” he said, smiling, taking her face in his hands again so she’d look at him. His hand slid to the back of her neck and he gripped her hair in his fists before resuming their rhythm, this time it was him leading. His pace quickened and suddenly Judy could barely catch her breath. Every thrust inside hit her in all the right places and she grasped the grab handle on the ceiling, preparing for the inevitable burst of pleasure she had been waiting so long for.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, digging her fingernails into his shoulder.

“I wasn’t planning to, baby,” he groaned.

Judy pulled in a deep breath, unable to exhale as her body began to betray her. The car felt like it was spinning as she released a soul shattering climax. Gene held on until he felt a few more tremors shake her body, then he plunged deep inside one last time and buried his face in her chest.

“Oh, my God… Judy…” he panted, feeling a rush come over him unlike anything he’d ever felt.

“My God, too…” She collapsed in his arms and he cradled her. She was so warm against him, he loved the sound of her laboured breathing becoming more and more relaxed, and the sweet audible moans she’d let out sporadically, they sounded so melodic. Neither could tell just how long they stayed like that for. All sense of timing went out the window when they came down from their vigorous aftershocks.

Gene kissed her again, soft and tenderly for a while, neither wanted the evening to end. When his hand once again cradled her cheek, his thumb caught a tear that had escaped her eye. He withdrew for a moment and looked into her misty brown eyes.

“Why are you crying?”

Judy tightened her lips, shaking her head as though she were struggling to properly convey her answer.

“I was just thinking about what a beautiful memory this night will be.”

“Why are you thinking of it as a memory?”

“Because it has to be just a memory, doesn’t it?”

“No.”

“Gene,” she looked at him, all-knowingly, “are you going to go home and leave your wife?”

He didn’t answer, only leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

“It’s not our time yet, darling,” she explained, “the time for us to act on the elephant in the room will come one day and we will know when it feels completely and unequivocally right between us. You’ll take me home tonight, I’ll go my way and you’ll go yours...”

“I hate the way that sounds… I can’t be without you for months again, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” she encouraged, “you have to.”

“Why? Why does this have to end like this?”

“It’s not ending, darling, we’re just… putting ourselves on hold. If there’s one thing I’ve realized over the course of this night with you is that being in love with you and knowing you’re still in love with me is enough. It’s enough for me to hold onto until the day comes when we can be together – no hiding, no spouses, no rules.”

Gene took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. He hated when she was right. He knew they couldn’t continue on the way they had been. Getting back together now would mean getting back together under the pretense of yet another affair. Both of them liked to think they were past that.

Gene helped Judy straighten up but kept her under his arm as they drove back towards Beverly Hills. Neither of them spoke a word the entire way there and when Gene pulled into her driveway, he looked at her for a moment, his mouth shaping up like he was about to say something. Judy pressed her index finger to her lips, silently asking him not to. Her eyes began to well up once more and she leaned forward, kissing him delicately. Gene’s lips parted slightly to receive one last warm sweep of her tongue. When they broke apart, Judy held her hands over her heart, mouthing the words I love you before getting out of the car. Gene watched as she walked up the pathway to her door and disappeared inside.  

J U N E   1 9 4 5

Sitting at the kitchen table, Gene jubilantly fed Kerry her breakfast. She had grown so much, he couldn’t believe how much he’d missed in the last four months. He was very proud of the work he was doing for the Navy but it was when he was home that he couldn’t help the small feeling of regret. Betsy would try to capture as much as she could about Kerry’s development in her letters but reading about it was entirely different than witnessing it for himself. Gene was fixing a little smiley face on Kerry’s food tray with her sliced bananas, grapes and strawberries when Betsy came in from the front porch.

“Did you happen to see the papers this morning?” She asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Nope,” he said, still lost in his fruit art. Betsy tossed the paper on the table in front of him and his eyes drifted to the large black lettering.

JUDY GARLAND WEDS DIRECTOR VINCENTE MINNELLI

[essentially-writes]

Do we fall apart?

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (f)

Genre: Oneshot; Angst; slight fluff; melodramatic (?)

Length: 1,628

Warnings: swearing; kissing; alcohol/drinking/clubbing; slow burn

A/N: this is my first time writing angst and one-shot! I tend to write series that I never finish so I thought I’d challenge myself with more oneshots. Inspired by ‘Good Things Fall Apart’ by ILLENIUM, Jon Bellion

disclaimer: the characters in this work are fictional and its content does not reflect any real events.

The summer air was thick and humid, cigarette smoke lingered all around the street lined with clubs and bars, busy with loud chatter and muffled music from the different establishments.

“Hey, are you getting the taxi with us?” she looked at her friends gathered in a bunch, hair matted to their faces from the sticky heat inside the club they had all just stumbled out of.

“No, you guys go ahead” she replied, waving a hand to catch a separate car. The street was lined in an organised chaos of orange taxis awaiting the club-goers to filter out.

The girls shrugged, perhaps they had noticed after-all that she had been acting off all night. Soon enough she got herself in a car and directed the driver back to her flat, letting out a breath she hadn’t noticed she was holding, she searched her bag for her phone.

1.29am.

1.30am. *ping*

“Where are you? Come meet me by the river bank.” 

Another sigh, she squeezed her eyes patiently and re-opened them again, asking the driver to change the route.

The air was cooler by the river, a breeze brushing by her exposed neck to the back of her head giving her a slight shiver, sobering her up even more than the short night drive had already done.

She walked down towards the bank, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket, the chains on her boots jingling at the pace of her steps.

At the bottom, leaning on the railing of the riverbank, she spotted a slender male figure, wearing a black bucket hat, a navy and white windbreaker and matching basketball shorts.

The figure looked tired, shoulders slouched, head hung down. He lifted his head and looked up at the clear moonlit sky, mixed with the city lights and the blinking of cars running past the overhanging bridge.

He stayed like that for a few seconds more, and just as she finished the stairs, he turned around, searching the area for passers by, finally spotting her.

“Y/N, babe!” he called out, she lifted her hand to acknowledge him, still in the pocket of her jacket.

He noticed her reluctant steps, dragging her slowly towards him, and she wasn’t looking at him, instead her eyes low trained on the pavement as she closed the distance between them.

“What’s w-” his concern quickly disappeared, “have you been drinking? You stink!”

He couldn’t hide the disgust and annoyance in his voice, even if his features were covered by the black mask he was wearing.

His sharp eyes watched her expectantly, taking in her short outfit, the gold hoop earrings and the fading of her heavy make-up, he already knew the answer, he just needed to hear it.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice slightly hoarse, “we were in Hongdae, it was Mina’s birthday.”

“Did you have to go looking like that?” he spat the words with the sound of a brewing fury. Perhaps he didn’t mean to do so, his expression was still hidden and her eyes still avoided his, but the words stung right where she had this heavy weight upon her chest.

Perhaps she didn’t mean to either, she could only react to fire with fire, her shouting was sharp and pointed.

“Looking like what?! What exactly do you want to say Doyoung?? Tell me, what do I look like to you?!”

“What the fuck is your problem?! You’re the one showing up drunk and stinking of alcohol and sweat, dressed like a-” he hesitated.

“I DARE YOU TO SAY IT! I DARE YOU!” her face was red now, her breath was fast, chest puffing up and down. Finally she was looking straight at his eyes, dark and wide, checking all around for other late night strollers.

They remained silent, the heated tension keeping them from their next words. The one who spoke first might be the one to make the first mistake.

She turned around to sit on the large concrete steps usually occupied by visitors watching the river flow, perhaps during a break in their walk or a stop for a spot of lunch in the sun.

The cold concrete was a sharp contrast to her heated body, she could feel the rough edges and dirt on the back of her thighs as she sat. Elbows on her knees, she rested her head on her hands, tears escaping down to her chin.

Doyoung stood still for a moment, feeling indignant at the situation. He’d had such a crappy long day, things had been so frustrating with work; he barely had time to eat and catch up with sleep between his schedules and so when he finally finished for the day, he wanted to see her, even just for a few moments to get some consolation. He did not expect to have his girlfriend show up, after a week of not seeing her, drunk and less than welcome, much less screaming at him in the middle of the night.

He joined her by her seat a moment later. Her tears had already cleared up, a small sniffle barely audible before she spoke again.

“You know, if it’s so difficult to be with me, maybe we should let this go.”

“What?! What are you talking about Y/N?” Whatever annoyance, anger or any other feelings he had before were gone. His voice was in panic, his head now rushing to understand the words.

“I- I just think I’m no longer good enough. I’m not good enough for this relationship.” Tears threatened to fall again.

He turned to her and held her hands in his, leaning close and searching her eyes, he pleaded,

“Y/N please, tell me what’s wrong. What’s gotten into you?”

“He didn’t deny it” she thought fearfully, taking in a breath to gather courage to speak again.

“I’m either a bad friend for lying to my friends about being single and then not hanging out and going out clubbing with them, or I am a bad girlfriend to you if I do and don’t show up at your beck and call in the middle of the night.” She shook her head gently, “I don’t know if I can keep this up.”

Meeting and dating Doyoung had been a dream, he was her perfect man. He was sweet and bashful when they had first met. She was so captivated by his laugh and smile, and the way he looked at her from across the table at the wrap up party. She made the first move, knowing full well he was a famous idol but you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take and she had nothing to lose in letting him know she was interested in him. They got to know each other over the next project, finding excuses to sit one to one, pretending to talk about work in the café of the office.

Their first private date had been a car date. She was excited and full of butterflies, her nerves causing an uneven breath as she thought about kissing him for the first time. And sure enough, it was as magical as she had imagined it would be. Doyoung leaned over to reach his hand around her neck, brushing her hair away and settling his warm hand at the back of her neck, pulling her in gently towards him.

His eyes were dripping in want as he watched her gulp nervously, licking his lips subtly he leaned in further and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss felt soft and hot, parting and pressing for more, their feelings for each other exchanged in the gentle suckling of each other’s lips. It felt heavenly in Doyoung’s arms.

As time passed, their time spent together fluctuated between as frequently as daily to as far apart as a month in between. They had worked through it, but almost a year later, it seemed that it was finally taking its toll.

She tried to move her hands out of Doyoung’s only for him to hold on tighter.

“No, Y/N, no, it’s me. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry you have to feel that way, I’m sorry I can’t give you a normal relationship.” He kissed her hand as the tears ran down her face again.

“But I need you Y/N. I need you to make my days worth it, I need you in my arms, to smile for and laugh with. Isn’t it the same for you?”

“It doesn’t have to be me”, her insecurities revealing themselves.

“It does. For me, it has to be you.” Doyoung used his fingers to gently lift her face so that they could look each other in the eyes. His thumb stroked lightly across her cheek, rubbing away the tear stains. With his other hand, he removed his mask, his plump pink lips were dry in a slight pout.

“Y/N, I love you. I mean it, and I promise to do better. Okay?” His gaze had softened, his expression neutral, waiting for her response.

She was taken aback. Though she expected he would resist and deny her before really giving things a deep thought, she hadn’t expected his first “I love you” to be delivered right then and there.

And though she knew it would be hard to change things, she also knew he was right. She needed him too, she needed to be his and she liked wanting him too.

On a night like this, she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms, she had missed him so much she’d mistaken it for being frustrated at him.

She looked back at him, leaning into his hand feeling the warmth of his skin against hers and she nodded slowly.

“I love you too Doyoung. I need you too.”

[slashhinginghasher]

Midnight Star - Chromeskull x OFC - Part 8: The Greater of Three Evils

wow another chapter six months later. much shock. so surprise

Big TW for NONCON at the end of this chapter. Please read with caution.

This work is on Ao3!

Summary: Worst first date ever.

***

Her reward was a bedroom and a fat, juicy orange the size of both her fists. The orange came first; Cromeans produced it from some hidden jacket pocket and placed it in her lap with exaggerated delicacy. For a half-second, she was afraid he’d leave her there to stare uselessly at the piece of fruit until she caved and asked him to free her hands - or worse, to fucking feed her - but he unlocked her left wrist and… left.

Every instinct told her to rip into the orange before it could be taken away, but she forced herself to go slow. Having gone down the starvation route more times than a person should, she knew that stuffing her face would just lead to everything coming back up a few minutes later. She removed the peel in small, methodical pieces while her stomach growled at her like a rabid dog. Then she neatly sectioned one wedge from its neighbors and, self-control over, shoved the whole thing in her mouth. It was a good thing she was alone because she really didn’t want to cry in front of any of these bastards, but fuck, it was a good orange.

And then the brunette woman named Spann had to ruin it by walking in with another entourage of black-clad assholes. The tension that had marginally left Marena’s shoulders came back full force. Spann smiled at her again. Marena was really starting to hate that smile. It was indulgent and slightly condescending, the sort of subtle smugness that came from a person who knew they had damn well earned the right to be smug.

“You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?” Spann asked in a pleasant voice that suggested that she knew the correct answer, and that it would be better for Marena’s structural integrity if she also knew the correct answer. Marena was sorely tempted to spit a mouthful of half-chewed pulp in the other woman’s face, but that would have definitely fallen under the category of “stupid”, and besides, it was a really good orange. Instead, she silently held the brunette’s gaze, blank-faced, unmoving, unblinking, which she had been told by multiple people was “really fucking creepy.”

“Good,” Spann said, like she was praising a child. She nodded to one of the assholes who, to Marena’s credit, looking mildly terrified as he unlocked the other cuff. Marena jerked the newly freed hand into her lap just to watch him flinch at the sharp movement, because she was also kind of an asshole.

“Can you walk?” There was a solid chance that the answer to that question was “no”, but like fuck was Marena going to tell any of them that. She pushed back the sheets, noting with distaste that the sluttish excuse for a nightgown she’d been dressed in didn’t even hit mid-thigh, and carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed. The tile floor was cold against her bare, blistered feet, which was about the only thing that felt good at the moment. The motion had sent her head into a throbbing, nauseated whirl. Her weakened muscles burned and cramped. But she’d done a lot more with a lot worse, so she told her body to shut the hell up and pushed herself fully upright. Her right leg buckled slightly, and she leaned her hip against the railing of the bed like she’d meant to do that all along. Spann wasn’t fooled, but she played along.

“Follow me, then.”

Marena wanted to put up a fight. She wanted to be difficult, and violent, and savage. But she was tired. She didn’t know where she was. She didn’t know what was going to happen to her, although it was probably going to be very unpleasant. And she had talked. A lot. There was a deep, dull ache in each of her shoulders and she could feel the memories hovering around her, waiting for her to fall asleep so they could dive in and eat what was left of her from the inside out. She shouldn’t have caved. She should have let him rape and torture her until she died, and taken all her shitty secrets with her to the grave.

There was also the pride-rankling fact that Mr. Cromeans had gotten more out of her in a matter of days than a trained therapist had in more than two years. Maybe if they taught psychiatrists how to throw a punch, they’d be more effective.

They reached the bedroom by elevator because apparently her captor was the kind of jackass to have an elevator in his fucking house. Spann didn’t say another word, a small blessing since Marena didn’t think she could handle any conversational attempts without making something bleed. Her legs gave out moments after Spann and the Faceless Muscle Squad shut the door behind her. She pressed her face into the carpet (very plush, very soft) and allowed herself to give in to the absolute, soul-obliterating panic for a count of ten. Then she forced herself upright and took stock.

The room was small (by rich people standards) and sparsely furnished (by rich people standards). The carpet was black, the walls painted deep red like a cheesy vampire movie. The bed, dresser, and wardrobe were all carved out of dark wood and were too heavy for Marena to move, especially in her current physical condition of suck. The single window was made of thick, possibly bulletproof, glass, and seemed unopenable. A peek through the slats of the blinds offered a view of a large interior courtyard and a sunset-painted sky. Even if she could get the window open, there would be no escape that way. 

She didn’t bother looking for cameras. She knew they’d be there.

The attached bathroom was almost as big as the main room, with white marble floors shot through with gold. The bathtub and shower were huge, big enough for three people. Or one normal-sized person and one freakishly large person, but if she thought about that for too long she’d start spiralling. At least a dozen different hair products sat in the metal shower caddy, most of which Marena had no idea what to do with, and she’d bet Cromeans didn’t either, since he was fucking bald. Maybe he’d had someone (Spann?) buy them, or maybe they were leftover from the mysterious Veronica that Preston had so obviously wanted to taunt her with. It didn’t take a genius to guess that the woman was most likely dead.

Lucky bitch.

A huge mirror was set into the wall above the bathroom sink, but she didn’t walk far enough forward for it to catch her reflection. Marena avoided mirrors as a general rule; she’d covered the one in her shithole apartment with an old bedsheet. Seeing her face tended to fuck her up on a good day, and in her current state… it might break her, and she couldn’t afford to break right now. She returned to the main room and faced the wardrobe with the trepidation of someone about to open a box that might or might not contain a dead body. The wooden doors mocked her as she stood there, clenching and flexing her fingers. She took a deep breath that wasn’t remotely fortifying and threw them open.

Lace. Lace and tulle and silk because men, rich men, were so fucking predictable it was disgusting. Her gaze caught on a baby blue dress and she slammed the doors shut, staggering backwards until she hit the bed, and then the ground. She couldn’t even look in the direction of the dresser, although she had a fairly good idea of what it contained and it made her want to rip all those pretty dresses to ribbons and hang herself with them. The pain in her shoulders was radiating down her arms and across her back, but she couldn’t rub the ache away without feeling the ghost of the House Master’s touch as he did up the buttons of her dress after Hana changed out the bandages, his perfect pretty little kukolka, and he did always love her in blue... She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted Hana back, and the grief was so heavy it was crushing her, like so much dirt over a grave.

Marena curled in on herself and tried not to fall apart.

***

Her well-deserved panic attack was interrupted sometime later when the door unlocked with an electronic whir and a heavy click. She pressed her back against the wall, waiting for someone - something - to come through, but the door remained shut. Second after excruciating second crept by with no sign of movement. Marena remained huddled on the floor, fists clenched, jaw clenched, hackles up like a dog ready to lunge.

Seconds turned to minutes, and she got bored.

So much of Marena’s life had been spent in a state of torturous waiting. Waiting for Guests to arrive or leave. Waiting for the villagers to let her out of the river. Waiting for the beatings to stop. Waiting for the various devils in her life to fall asleep so she could slip away for a single moment of solitude. She was tired of waiting, and as much as she didn’t want to face whatever hell was about to be inflicted on her, she could not stand to spend one more moment suspended in this agony of uncertainty.

Pushing herself to her feet, she inched her way to the door, preparing to kick in the fucking kneecaps of whoever was on the other side. But there was only an empty corridor and a piece of paper on the floor.

Fourth door on the right.

The obvious choice was to go to the left, then, where a break in the wall indicated a stairway or another hallway. Or was it obvious? Maybe Cromeans was trying to lure her in that direction by giving her orders to do the opposite, expecting her to disobey. So then the thing to do would be to go to the right, to avoid whatever was on the left. Although that didn’t mean that the right was safe.  Perhaps Cromeans was so supremely confident in her inability to escape that he just expected she’d end up where she was told. She didn’t know the layout of the house, and if the car had been any indication, her captor was a technophile. That meant cameras, alarm systems, remote locks, maybe even booby traps. Was that something people did outside of movies? Okay. So assuming both directions were bad news, why leave any options open? Why not send an escort? Perhaps it came down to obedience. Disobey and you get punished; obey and you deserve whatever happens to you because you went willingly?

Fuck. She hated mind games. She barely had a grasp on what happened in her own head, let alone somebody else’s.

She could always remove herself from the situation completely. Lie down in that nice, big bathtub and take a few deep breaths until everything went watery and dark. Marena’s will to live was driven by spite more than anything else, but it was - save for one or two notable exceptions - iron-clad and unshakeable. She wasn’t afraid to die, but was she ready to make that final surrender?

It was the cameras that decided it for her, in the end. They were well-hidden in the room, but she could see a few small, red lights blinking in the gloom of the hallway. Cromeans was probably watching her right now, and if he really was just a few doors down, then he’d have plenty of time to foil a suicide attempt. And plenty of motivation to rain unholy hell down upon her when she woke. Men like him didn’t like it when their toys were taken away prematurely. Trying to rob him of the pleasure of orchestrating her death would end up very, very ugly. For her.

You don’t get to kill what is mine.

Marena shuddered and instinctively wrapped an arm around her midriff as she pushed the memory away. She was already going to have nightmares about bullets and pearl-handled guns the next time she slept; she didn’t need to add her nasty little suicide attempt to the queue. Of course, it was perfectly plausible that she would die before she got a chance to sleep again, or that Cromeans had something planned that would eclipse either of those in its awfulness. She ripped the note to shreds, trying to find some sense of control in the tiny act of destruction, and headed for the fourth door on the right.

It was some sort of lounge, all dark earth tones and metal accents. The center of the room was dominated by a dark, heavy slab of a wooden table that could easily seat twenty people. There was a lit fireplace to her right (which had to be fake, because who in the fuck could ever feel cold here?), heavy drapes blocking the far wall, something that looked like a home bar, and honestly, all of the details of this god-awful hell house were starting to blur together and she just couldn’t bring herself to give a shit about interior decorating.

A hand shot out from her periphery, slapping another pair of metal handcuffs on her wrists before she could even twitch, and the only coherent thought her overworked brain could produce was “Was he hiding behind the fucking door?”

Cromeans looked terribly pleased with himself as he ushered her towards a seat at the table. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that made it very apparent that yes, his biceps were bigger than her goddamn thighs, which was just fucking excessive, honestly. Heavy metal was playing in the background, a looping, ever-shifting soundscape of electric guitar, drums, and male aggression. Marena was normally quite partial to the genre, but a headache was building behind her eyes, and all this “friendly” buildup made her sure that whatever was going to happen to her tonight would be that much worse.

In a testament to how absolutely out of it she was, she didn’t notice the food on the table until she was seated right in front of it. Meat, greens, bread, wine. More of those heavenly oranges. She ate mechanically, ignoring the wine, refusing to look up at Cromeans where he sat on the other side of the table. It all tasted like glue and stuck in her throat the same way. If they were two normal people on a regular date, it would have been the most awkward first date in history. They barely qualified as people, though, let alone normal, and Marena could only wish Cromeans was feeling even a little uncomfortable. Smug fucker was probably having the time of his life.

Her steak knife sat heavy and tempting in her hand, but there wasn’t much she could do with it. The chain between her wrists was about 18 inches long, enough for her to eat without much trouble, but too short to throw a knife or a punch without an obvious and awkward windup. If Cromeans wasn’t such a stupidly big man, she’d try to choke him out with the chain. But she would need a damn ladder to reach around his neck while he was standing, and she doubted she’d be able to get behind him while he was sitting.

Cromeans stood and smirked as Marena clumsily pushed to her feet after him, desperate to close the height gap between them even slightly. He sauntered over to the bar, holding up two empty glasses and quirking a brow in question. Marena nodded. He turned his back to her and started fiddling with bottles and shakers and… cocktail things. She snatched up the steak knife and crept towards him, drawing on every bit of stealth she’d honed while hunting and hiding as a child. He knew she was weak right now, unlikely to try or succeed at any sort of physical attack. His hands would be full with both glasses, slowing his reaction time by a crucial fraction of a second. His right side was a blind spot. She would sneak up behind him and stab him in the throat when he turned around, and hopefully he wouldn’t be able to snap her neck before he bled out.

She drew as close as she dared. Stilled her breath. Stilled the knife, both hands wrapped white-knuckle tight around the handle. He turned. She lunged. Glass shattered. Her arms weren’t moving.

He caught it.

He caught the fucking knife.

Oh. BLYAT’.

If she thought the look on his face after kicking him in the balls was scary, it had nothing on the way he was looking at her now. Blood trickled between his fingers as he tightened his grip on the blade before wrenching it out of Marena’s grasp and tossing it aside.

There was a flash of silver. Moving purely on instinct, Marena threw her hands up, stopping the other, bigger knife he’d pulled from somewhere with the chain of her cuffs. Her arms shook with strain, the cuffs biting into the tender skin of her wrists. With a deft motion, Cromeans twisted the knife, wrapping the chain around its serrated blade until Marena’s hands were pressed together, all slack gone. Using the knife as a handle, he forced her backwards, step by step, until she was pressed against the table. Dishes were sent crashing to the floor with a mighty sweep of his arm, and then she was laid out on the table’s surface. Cromeans stabbed the knife into the dark wood, then yanked her back towards him until her arms were stretched above her head and her hips were at the edge of the table.

Panic opened like a yawning abyss in her chest, the sheer scope of her terror threatening to swallow her whole when Cromeans produced another knife and brought down near the scar on one of her shoulders. But he didn’t stab it into the old bullet wound the way she’d expected. Instead, he sliced through the straps of her silk shift and pulled the fabric down with a vicious tug that left her completely bare to his gaze, which was fast shifting from rage to pure, undiluted lust. He devoured her, drinking in the sight of her naked body like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. She wanted to say as much, but fear - and habit - had her voice in a vice grip.

He forced her legs open and stepped between her thighs as he dragged his hands over her hips, his injured hand leaving smears of blood in its wake. The table was tall enough that Marena’s toes barely brushed the ground; she had no leverage with which to kick him or push herself away. She flinched at the first touch of his hand between her legs, hating herself for reacting but unable to stop it. The first brush of his thumb over her clit was feather-light. The second was firmer and dragged a bone-deep shudder from her. With the exception of an asshole cop who got a little too handsy while frisking her, Marena hadn’t had any prolonged human contact in four years, and her touch-starved body didn’t know whether to pull away or lean into the pleasure. The result was an ineffectual jerk that did nothing but bring an infuriating smirk to Cromeans’ face.

And the knife moved, just a little.

Marena took a deep, shuddering breath, followed by an equally shaky exhale, shifting her hips slightly as though in surrender. Cromeans was tracing tingling patterns around her slit, drawing enough moisture that he could almost slip a finger inside. When she was certain his attention was fixed entirely on her cunt, she wrapped her fingers around the knife and began to work it free. The serrated edges of the blade cut into her fingertips immediately, hot sparkles of pain shooting down her fingers. She ignored it, just as she ignored the inexorable dance of the fingers between her legs and the building heat in her core. She just had to get the knife free, and then this nightmare would be over, one way or another.

So close, so close, so close…

Cromeans’ fist slammed down on the hilt of the knife, forcing it several inches deeper into the wood, and buried his cock in her at the same moment. Marena nearly bit through her tongue at the sudden painful stretch. She couldn’t breathe; he was in her and around her and god why did every fucking part of him have to be so big? He didn’t give her time to adjust before starting a brutal pace, long, hard strokes that stole her breath and dragged against every nerve ending in her pussy. One huge hand was splayed across her abdomen; Marena thought he must be able to feel himself moving inside her through her stomach. The other wrapped around her throat, tight enough to choke but not enough to let her black out.

She tried in vain to disconnect, to retreat behind the walls she’d spent so many years building in her mind. But Cromeans had added a twist to his hips that brushed against a spot inside her and made her see stars. The jolts of pleasure pulled her back to herself, made it impossible to divorce her mind from her body. Something hot and wonderful and terrible was building inside her. She wanted it to stop. She was being smothered and she wanted everything to stop.

Cromeans reached down to circle her clit once more, and the tension snapped. The orgasm rushed over her like a wildfire. A tsunami. A supernova. Marena was dimly aware of the way her back arched as her inner muscles clenched around Cromeans’ hard length. A strangled, keening gasp that escaped her throat just before he tightened his grip enough to completely cut off her air, pelvis grinding against hers as he chased his own release. Each stuttering thrust sent aftershocks of pleasure-pain skittering through her body. Her vision was starting to tunnel when he bottomed out for the final time and came with a growl that she felt more than heard.

He remained seated inside her for a long minute, breathing hard and supporting himself on one forearm. The hand around her throat eased from a choking grip to soothing strokes, like he could wipe away the lurid bruises already forming with a gentle enough touch. At last, he pulled out and tucked himself away. He wrenched the knife out of the table and pulled Marena into a sitting position. Her body was quivering, boneless; she doubted she’d have been able to sit up on her own. Cromeans pressed a chaste, lingering kiss to her mouth as he unlocked the cuffs. Then he ran two fingers through the mess of cum and blood coating her inner thighs and licked the digits clean with a wink.

He turned his back and poured himself another drink.

***

Marena didn’t remember leaving the lounge. Didn’t remember staggering down the hall. She had no idea how long she’d been standing in the doorway of her bathroom, swaying slightly and staring blankly at the wall. The stickiness between her thighs had mostly dried, smears of pale pink that matched the tender places where the denim of Cromeans’ pants had rubbed her skin raw. Her hands and wrists were covered in drying blood, fresh rivulets still seeping from the angry marks left by the cuffs.

She raised a shaking hand to her mouth, feeling the ghost of his scarred lips on hers, and her guts knotted violently. She lurched forward, dropping to her knees in front of the toilet just in time to vomit up everything she’d ever eaten in her life. Then she turned on the shower as cold as it would go and stood under the freezing spray until her lips turned blue.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

“ why did you stop loving me? ” with mer 🥺 angsty af

Just remember, y’all request this shit. It’s dark and painful, but if I put specific warnings, it’ll ruin the story. So, do please proceed with caution. 

* * * * *

July in Louisiana meant there were only two tolerable times of the day to be outside: before the sun rose and after the sun set. Merriell had left at dusk, and now here you sat, quietly watching the crepuscular shadows along the bank of the stream and beneath the low branches of the live oak, waiting for dawn’s light to chase them away.

With a heavy sigh, you wished something as simple as the sun could chase away the shadows that clung to your heart as you thought about where your husband had spent the night.

The chittering birds told you it was officially dawn, their little bodies waking up to bounce through the branches of the oak. While watching the morning unfold, you remembered how hesitant you had been to move this deep into the south, but Merriell had promised there was no better place, no more peaceful place in all of Louisiana to set up a home.

You guessed maybe that was it: home had become too peaceful for him, too good for him, and like all the good things in Mer’s life, he knew it would come to an end. It was a true shame he never realized it was actually his own hand that caused all of the destruction that seemed to plague him.

A few months ago, Merriell had spent his first night away from home; in the morning, he was drunk, apologetic and sweet and even though you took pause, you decided it was a fluke. It was just one of those times when Merriell needed to feel free, like he still had complete control over his life.

The second time, your intuition knew something was wrong. It wasn’t about riding around with the boys, or about gambling and drinking. After that second time and without your conscious consent, your mind planted the seed that it wasn’t about a something at all . . . it was about a someone.

You spent nights three, four, and five weeding that damned seed, over and over again, but it had permanent roots. After the sixth time, you gave up and just let it grow, nourishing it with every doubt you’d ever had.  

And last night, well last night had made seven.

You figured that the seventh time was the best time to confront Merriell. Afterall, God rested on the seventh day, and you knew God didn’t want to be around for this.

The sun rose over the horizon, bathing the lawn in a blue-pink glow as Mer’s truck crept into the driveway. Your tears had been shed hours ago and you swore to yourself that he wouldn’t get to see you cry.

Shifting on the porch swing, you tucked your legs under your body and ran your hands apprehensively over your thighs, stopping to adjust your wedding ring and realizing for the first time since Merriell had slipped the gold band on your finger that it felt itchy—like the skin underneath couldn’t breathe.

Maybe that was it? Merriell’s domestic skin just got too itchy and he needed to scratch it.

You hoped it was a satisfying scratch because you already knew there wouldn’t be a chance for another. The second he stepped out on you, your marriage was over. Merriell had once loved your confidence, your acknowledgment of your own self-worth, but maybe it was too much to handle for a man who seemed to have a streak of self-hatred that he just couldn’t shake.

Yes. Maybe that was it.

Merriell stopped in his tracks when he saw you on the porch and you watched as his eyes darted back to his truck, a glance of apprehension, whether to stay or flee clearly written across the face you used to find beautiful.

When your gaze didn’t waver, Mer knew the choice had been made for him, so he took a deep breath, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Your eyes raked over the way his clothes were rumpled, obviously having spent the night on someone else’s floor.

He stopped at the edge of the porch and leaned against the railing, head bent, his hands still in his pockets. You could see they were shaped into fists and the tension rolled off of him, along with the smell of her.

“Vaginal secretions. They’re pretty pungent, you know.” Your voice came out strong and clear, completely disguising the shadows of disgust that squeezed your heart.

Merriell didn’t raise his head, but the muscles in his forearms flexed.

“The first five times you showered before you came ho—” you stopped yourself. This wasn’t anyone’s home anymore. “Before you came back here. Since you’ve stopped for nights six and seven, I just assumed you didn’t give a fuck if I knew.”

Still, he kept his head down, fists balled in his jeans’ pockets. His scuffed boots toed at one of the knots in the porch’s floorboards.

“Why did you stop loving me?” you asked in a rush, emotion edging over the words that had been running through your mind since night two.  

Merriell did look up at that question, his eyes filled with tears and you were appalled that your first instinct was to comfort him.

To comfort him!

No. Instead, you scratched at the skin beneath the band of your wedding ring, your eyes never leaving his face.

“I—” he began, stopping to clear his throat. “I neva stopped lovin’ ya.”

First you blinked, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Then you laughed, a cold, unhappy, bark of a laugh. “You’ve come up with an incredibly rich way of showing off your love for me, Merriell.”

Untucking your legs, your bare feet settled on the cool wood of the porch and you flexed them to still the swing. You glanced at the sunlight filtering through the branches of the oak and wondered how something so pretty could be occurring in tandem with the ugliest moment of your life.

“What’s she like?” you asked, your eyes still trained on the growing sunlight.

Merriell was quiet for a long time. He pulled his hands from his pockets and you couldn’t help but to turn your attention back to him, the thin band of gold flashing on his finger as he ran his left hand through his hair.

“Do you take your wedding ring off when you fuck her, or do—”

“She’s havin’ my child.”

You stopped breathing, the heated blood in your veins turning to ice.

“Leave.”

“Y/N, please,” Merriell began his voice catching as he let his tears fall.  

You stood, willing your body to get as far away from him as it could, but when you turned to walk into the house, he reached for you, and the thought of his fingers—the fingers that had been touching her, that had been inside of her—wrapping around your wrist was enough to make you sick.

Shaking him off, you threw open the door and ran to the kitchen sink, throwing up nothing but bile because you couldn’t even remember the last time you ate. Tears streamed down your face as you gagged again, and from your peripheral, you could see Merriell hovering in the doorway.

Running water to wash away the sick and rinse out your mouth, you felt your knees shake so you turned around against the counter and slowly sank to the floor, unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body.

That’s why. That’s why. That’s why.

She could give him the one thing in the world you never could.

You screamed, an agonized purge of emotion that exploded from your chest and you saw him leave, like a ghost, like a whisper of the man he had once been.

He had told you it didn’t matter.

He had sworn his love and fealty to you.

He had asked you to marry him.

He had sworn he was happy.

You straightened up. Your back still leaning against the countertop and you pulled your wedding ring off your finger. Slowly climbing to your feet, you turned back toward the sink and tossed the ring into the garbage disposal, flicking the switch and listening to the blades tear themselves apart as they hit the metal.

You flicked off the switch and swiped at the tears on your cheeks.

You had already broken one promise to yourself: you had let him see you cry.

You’d be damned if you’d be here when he got back; you’d be damned if you’d ever let him see your face again.

The walk to your bedroom felt like it was measured in miles, not in feet, and when you began tossing your things into a bag, you were struck with a realization.

You wanted nothing from this house, nothing from this life.

Leaving your clothes, makeup, and jewelry strewn across the bedroom, you turned on your heel and walked away. The only things you took from that house, that place you had called home for seven years, were your tennis shoes and your car keys.

As you pulled out onto the quiet road, your gaze focused only on the sun in the distance, a bright orange ball that held the promise of another hot day.

Your eyes never flicked to the rearview mirror.

Not once.

[nevermore-ocs]

Parents

Author’s note: SO *claps* We got something pretty serious this time y’all, about 2.4K words, a story from Rayne’s past but this has REALLY SERIOUS topics in it, SENSITIVE STUFF IN IT, seriously if you CAN’T read it OR IT’S TOO DIFFICULT TO, you can totally skip it, Rayne’s story is the most REAL one and it was difficult for me to type it not gonna lie, I’M GONNA TAG WHAT’S IN IT HERE AND ALSO IN THE TAGS FOR DOUBLE PROTECTION-

SO, WARNINGS HERE: tw // blood tw // abuse tw // violence tw // homophobia

The car was hot now.

The windows, once clear, now had a layered sheen of condensation on them from the inside. Determined little beads of built-up water steadily rolling down the glass in a silent race. The car reverberated with the low rumble of R&B playing from the radio just to set the mood, she figured. Rayne, her face tinted with a light crimson to her cheeks, gradually sat up in her side of the backseat while she panted out, she licked her lips, she could still taste her essence tainting her mouth and printing itself onto there. Allison, this, brunette haired, blue-eyed, long-legged, and slender girl that went to the same high-school as Rayne was laid out next to her. Her trembling legs were still spread apart, too sensitive to even think about closing, her head was leaned back against the door. She gasped out harder and louder than Rayne did for she was coming down from the orgasmic high that had hit her harder than a speeding bullet train. Rayne settled her hand on one of Allison's knees, "You gonna get up?" She muttered with a twinge of impatience, pushing the other girl's legs closed for her practically, Allison huffed, "Can't you give me, like, fucking 10 seconds, Rayne, Jesus!" She snapped, harsher and quicker than she originally intended. She glanced down the seat and caught just in time of Rayne glancing away with narrowing eyes and a furrowed brow, she stared through a gap in the fog on the window thanks to her wiping it away with the side of her fist. The brunette, drifting her eyes away for a moment, looked back at her and she gently sat up, "I'm sorry," Allison murmured, her hand going to Rayne's shoulder to provide some sort of comfort, she even gave it a tender squeeze. Rayne, without even giving her another glance, snatched her shoulder out of Allison's grasp, "Least I can get you to fucking cum anyway," she growled, taking a hold of the door handle, she pushed the door open hard, and before she closed it, she leaned in once more, "Last time I checked, Jack can't do that for you right?" She shot, and she slammed the door close, leaving Allison inside with her stunned and terrified expression at the sheer mention of her boyfriend. Rayne glared once more at the condensed and covered window, staring it down in a way before turning and beginning to trudge in the opposite direction when the car turned over and drove away. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out an open, crinkled, and an almost empty box of cigarettes, along with a blue lighter that had noticeably low fluid in it. She flipped open the lid when she raised the box to her mouth and she caught one of the smokes in between her lips. Whilst she slid the pack back into her pocket, it took a couple of tries, but the lighter awoken with a bright, burning orange flame and she held it to the cigarette, lighting the end of it and taking a deep and much-needed drag of it. She held the cigarette in between her index finger and the middle one, taking it out of her mouth. She breathed the smoke out in a deep sigh, letting it leave her lungs for now.

She longed this walk, this rut she's imprinted into the sidewalk, she knew it like the back of her head and she hated the destination. She tapped the built-up ash off of the cigarette and put it back in between her lips and let it hang loosely there as she got closer and closer to her house with every hesitant step. Her home didn't feel like a home anymore, so, better to call it a house than ever a home. As she approached the porch, she glanced towards the illuminated living room window. She studied it, the tv was on and playing some kind of sporting event, it looked like football but she didn't care a single bit. All it told her was that he was awake, and was probably a six-pack down already. She took the cigarette out of her mouth and put it out by grinding the lit end against the wooden rail of the porch, then she crumpled the stick up and threw it to the side, in the garden barely attended to anymore. She's done this process so many times now there was a small build-up of extinguished, thrown-away smokes and small, black, circles brunt into the cedarwood. She haltingly stepped up the porch stairs, she knew what was going to happen, it was inevitable, it was every day now, like clockwork, right on the dot too. Rayne stood at the door, her eyes glared down at the worn in welcoming mat. "Welcome to our happy home!" The bold, elegantly inscribed words taunted her silently.

Happy home. What a bunch of shit.

Turning the doorknob, the front door creaked open and she stepped inside, letting the door shut behind her. She didn't even bother to lock it as she was already hurrying to the back of the house to the rooms. "Where the Hell were ya tonight, girl?" Her father, a slim man, more skin and bone than muscle with his hair shaved down to a buzz-cut and dressed in a white tank-top and shorts glared over at her. His words were slurred, the simple sentence seemed to be a struggle for him to even think of. Rayne scoffed, barely looking over at him, "Like you fuckin' care," she retorted, already hearing him begin to shuffle and stumble around when he tried to pull himself out of the sofa. She never wanted to see him. She couldn't stand him, his smell that always reeked massively of liquor, how disheveled he was, he was like a leech just sucking the dwindling life-force of what once was a pleasant and happy home. That seemed like such a distant memory now. As she approached the target door, she fixed her hair with a simple brushing of her fingers going through the somewhat black, tangled hair. She tugged on the front of her flannel shirt, fixed the collar, and took in a deep breath, and let it out to calm down her infuriated nerves. She wanted to at least seem happy for her, she didn't need any more stress on her heart. With a firm grip on the golden doorknob, she gradually turned it and creaked open the door open, it squeaked with its minuscule movement, the invading light of the hallway seeping into the dark room. When there was a big enough gap in the open doorway, she stepped in and closed it behind her, this time she did lock it behind her. She didn't want anyone disturbing this time.

"Hey mom." She murmured gently, her words had a minor waver to them at the sight of her mother, swaddled up in two or three blankets with her head buried in a bevy of pillows. Her once beautiful, wavy, red hair, now lazily put up in a messy bun, unkempt and rarely cared for. She glanced at her mother's face, her tired eyes looked sunken in like she got clocked in both of her eyes and had little life after the hits. Hearing Rayne's voice, however, seemed to have sparked her engine a little. Weakly, she lifted her head from the pillows and glanced over her shoulder at Rayne before relaxing again. "Hey baby..." Her words were so quiet, if it weren't for the stillness of her bedroom she wouldn't have heard her speak up at all. It pained Rayne just to stand there, shifting on her feet, unable to do anything about the illness that ran rampant through her body, destroying everything in its path to leave nothing but an empty shell to deteriorate in a black box buried six feet deep in the ground. "How was today? Any pain?" She always asked this question and always got the same answer, "Same old, same old, sweetie..." Just like clockwork. "Right, yeah," letting a defeated sigh escape her lips, she trudged over to her mother's bedside. Every step closer brought tears further to the dangerous brink of pouring out of her eyes as two steady, strong rivers.  She loomed over her at her bedside, she didn't want to cry despite it being so tempting to, she was sure that her mom wouldn't be mad at her for it, even understand it. However, she wanted to be strong for her, even if that meant bottling up every true feeling and everything single thing she wanted to vent out and scream and cry and shout for all to hear, and putting it away, and locking it up. Just to lessen to worry on her heart. Rayne leaned down, she pressed a chaste, little peck to her mother's forehead, and let her own rest on the side of her head for a few moments. She didn't want to leave, if she could, she'd stay in here for the rest of her life just comforting her mother, to ease her through the pain, to remind her to take her medicine, and just hope that one day, she'd just sit up in bed all vibrant and happy and laughing, and just be herself again. Nowadays, hope was dwindling, her old family became a fragment of a memory to be dusted away, to never be remembered.  "I'll see you later, okay?" She muttered, she leaned back up, turning, she trudged back to the door, shaky, stuttering breaths slowly seeping out of her mouth, some impatient tears coming up to the corners of her eyes and they ran down her cheeks, "Love you, little rain cloud..." hearing her childhood nickname come from her mouth as weak and as quiet as it did was the final, killing stab in her gut. It made her stop in her steps, right at the doorway again. It took a few moments, to stir up the strength in her to even attempt to say goodbye, she glanced over her shoulder a little hesitantly, her eyes glossy with tears, "I love you too, mom..." She whispered, closing the door behind her with a heavy heart.

She needed a drink. She wanted to go into the kitchen, grab one of the cheap bottled beer from the numerous six-packs littering the fridge and just forget about her troubles for at least tonight. Who was going to stop her from that? Taking hold of the fridge handle, she swung it open, grabbed a beer by the neck of the bottle, and took it out of the fridge. She twisted it open and tossed the metal cap to the side, she raised the bottle up to her lips about to take a drink but stopped midway when she saw him at the door. Her father. She chuckled, irritation already leaking into her tone, "Thought it started to smell bad in here," she muttered, staring at her father who stalked at the doorway, "You didn't fuckin' answer my question earlier," he grumbled, the drunkenness evident as clear water in his voice, he lumbered up to him, if it weren't for the wall to prop his hand up against, he would have fallen flat on his face and hopefully knocked himself out. He got close enough for the stench of the hard alcohol to invade her nostrils and take over her air, it made her turn her head with a grimaced expression. "Where the fuck were ya tonight?" He growled, and with a sigh of annoyance, she slammed her bottle down on the kitchen table and snapped her head back to him, "I was out, with friends, why do you care?" She retorted, "You trying to get good jack off material from them, you don't need to know everything about my fucking life!" Shoving him away with her hands pushing against his chest, she started to hurriedly walk around him and towards the exit. "Get yer ass fuckin' back here!!" Her father launched his hand swiftly to the back of her head and grab a fistful of her hair and he tugged her back, hard. "Ah, fuck-! Let me the fuck go, you fuckin-" Her words were silenced, he threw her down onto the tile floor hard enough for the back of her head to crack against the hard surface, causing her to curse out loudly with pain. "Ya know what I think you were doin'? Ya were with that little slut again, weren't ya," he stomped to her side and propelled his leg forward in a strong kick, right into her gut, causing her to lurch forward and hug her abdomen while she coughed out roughly, her eyes threatening to water, "Yeah that fuckin' little Allison slut, ya were with her again, ya fuckin' faggot! Chokin' on her cunt again, fuckin' disgusting!" Rayne was gradually sitting up, the kick having knocked the wind out of her, but when she was at least sat up, her father glared back down at her and pulled his fist back. He sent his fist right at her mouth and it connected in a hard right cut, it sent her back down onto the tile in a hard slam, the corner of her lip sliced open, and a steady deep crimson stream of red blood poured out of it and dripped onto the floor. Standing over her, her father stepped to the side and grabbed her open beer bottle, and took a deep swig of the alcohol. When the bottle lowered from his lips, he let out a heavy, relieved sigh at the numbing liquid, he glanced at her, raising the bottle, he turned it to its side and let the alcohol pour out of the glass and down onto her and when just drips were left plinking onto the side of her face, he casually rested the bottle back on the table. "And clean yer shit up," he rubbed salt in the wound every time, he would have done more to make her feel lower than dirt if it weren't for his team playing against their all-time rivals in the playoffs on tv right now. He stepped out of the kitchen and left Rayne there, her eyes were blurry and her chest heaved with wheezing breaths, she stared the best she could at the growing pool of red blood building up around her head so monotonously, so slowly. It would stain the tiles, she was sure.

What a happy home, right?