#tried to write down the men from older to younger but in truth I have no idea how old half of them are

[synintheraven]

💘TAG GAME - SIMP LIST💘

Rules: Literally make a list of ppl you simp for.

Tagged by @lord-aldhelm I'll teach you how it's done 😌

My boys (lol):

Travis Fimmel

Charlie Hunnam

Tobias Santelmann

Arnas Fedaravičius

Alexander Ludwig

Alexander Høgh Andersen

**Ben Robson (aka the guy that played Kalf in Vikings literally Lagertha's second hottest husband to be)

My girls (;

Bella Hadid

Thea Sofie Loch Næss

Josefin Asplund

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @alexagirlie aaand anyone that feels like doing this :p

[nosesitter]

Boss!Joel Miller

3.3k words

boss!joel you’re out on the town, looking slutty, 6 vodka crans in, your tits are practically out, walking all sloppy, talking very loud and who do you run into? Your very hot boss Joel who’s only ever seen you in business attire.

a/n: I think I have a thing for having sex in trucks this is second time I’ve written about that. I love some mean Joel love me some mean men that I can make cum and then they start acting right. Going to be writing part 3 of helpful Joel miller just need to think some more. Pls interact, reblog, comment and tell me what you think I love feedback!!

⚠️: mean!joel, name calling(baby,slut,whore), reader is drunk as a skunk, alcohol consumption, public semi voyeur, p in v, spanking with a belt!!, choking, finger sucking, sex in a truck, Joel has a truck that has those blinding headlights, thick dick Joel, SMALL cum play, m!receiving oral, swallowing cum

As the seconds slowly count down to 4 o’clock you’re sitting at your desk thinking about how you’re going to lie to your boss so you can leave work early, it’s your friends birthday and you just want to go home get ready and pregame. It’s not a problem for you to lie, but to Joel? Nah, something about your boss makes it extremely hard, seeing him just makes you want to tell the truth, get on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. Your boss, Joel Miller, is extremely attractive, always wearing the tightest button down shirts to show off his broad shoulders and sculpted muscles in his arms. It’s very contradicting whenever you walk into his office and he’s just man spreading, yelling questions about the assignments he’s given you. Slacks bunching around his thighs you just wanna lay over his lap and have him spank you until your skin is blistering red, begging him to stop.

As you’re sitting there, 5 minutes into the new hour, trying to think of lies and finishing up the latest project that Mr. Miller has given you your office phone rings without having to look at the caller ID you know it’s your boss. “Yes sir?”

“Come into my office we have to talk about your recent turn in.” The last assignment you’ve turned into him was about 30 pages long and contained all his business contacts organized by the most recent ones he’s worked with. You tried to organize it more better but Joel was on vacation so you used your best judgement with handling it but sounds like it was wrong.

As you walk to his office you stop by a big glass window. You can see your reflection and take this time to straighten yourself out. A lot of the other ladies in the department you worked in wore very low cut blouses and tight pencil skirts. You just wear an all black blouse, slacks, and cardigan. He has made comments about the way you dress, especially here in Texas he almost expected you to show skin around the office just like the others but they do that for his attention. You already have his attention unbeknownst to you.

“Just come in!” He bellows out from the other side of the door. You push the door open and there he is sitting behind his desk for a change while a younger looking man stands next to him. “Please take a seat.” He says through gritted teeth, he seems upset. The younger one begins to talk.

“My names Tommy, I’m Joel’s younger brother. We were just going over the assignment I gave Joel last week and looks like it wasn’t done by Joel it was done by you.” Tommy says coming over to sit right next to you. Everyone in the office knows Joel slacks off, but turns out his brother and superior didn’t know about that. Your gaze shifts to the older Mr. Miller and he’s just rolling his eyes at his brothers choice of words.

“It was fantastic! I absolutely loved how you set it up and so did a lot of people higher than me.” He tells you happily causing the anxiety in your stomach to settle and your shoulders to relax as you soak in the compliment from the younger nicer brother. He leans forward and sets his hand on your thigh.

“We’d love to get you up here in your own office, working right alongside Joel and I.” His brother is also very attractive but he doesn’t have that ruggedness and frightening edge like Joel. Tommy’s thumb is rubbing small circles into the side of your thigh. Joel notices this.

“We can get you moved in right now-“ The older one begins talking again but you cut him off. He also notices that.

“My grandma needs me to help get her from the hospital-“ you stand from your seat and try to distance yourself from the angry looking older brother.

“Please go, I’m pretty sure we can get someone to help Joel move your things into the office next door.” Tommy is very nice, handsy, but nice nonetheless. You begin to excuse yourself from the room but not before looking back at Mr. Miller who waves you off angrily from behind his happier younger brother.

——

It’s 9 o’clock by the time you finish getting ready. Knocking out some errands beforehand so you’ve had time to relax before getting absolutely hammered. You’ve decided on some tight black pants and a black lace corset. Definitely a change from your normal clothes but you’re celebrating so you can look slutty for the night.

Grabbing your wallet and phone you head out to the Uber you’ve ordered and head over to the strip of night clubs near your apartment. When you get there you can see all your friends at the first club on the block. With that y’all start the night off.

——

It’s 30 minutes after midnight and half of your friends have gone home. It’s just you, the birthday girl, and her friend. They keep talking about wanting to go home but you’re at that point where you could have another drink but you know it’ll be a bad idea but it sounds so fun.

“I’m going to another club!” You’re slurring your words so drunk you can’t even think about anything else. As you’re stumbling to the next club you hear your name being shouted probably your friends yelling for you. You show the bouncer your ID and once again your name is being called from outside. Ignoring it you head right in and straight to the bar

“Vodka cran!” You yell to the bartender and he goes right to making the drink. As you’re standing there waiting for the drink an arm comes around your waist. You follow the hand to the body and it’s Mr. Joel Miller. You stand there for a moment and just stare at him. He’s wearing a silk shirt the first three buttons undone, gold necklaces sitting so pretty on his neck god damn he looks fucking good. No one breaks eye contact as the bartender puts the drink in front of you along with the bill. Joel sets his debit card right on the counter then leans forward, his beard scratching the side of your cheek, lips right on your ear. It feels wrong but it sends electricity through your body. You’ve been caught by him.

“How’s grandma?” You can hear the condescending tone in his voice. He’s enjoying seeing you act dumbfounded by his appearance here. You grab your drink and just walk past him heading to the patio best believe he’s following behind. Feeling the cold night air hit your face to take a breath and a big sip of your drink to regain the drunk confidence you desperately need to get through this.

“This definitely looks bad and I’m sor-“ He’s not paying attention to anything you’re saying but instead staring you down with intense sexual hunger. All those times he’s yelled and put the fear of god into you for not getting work done faster fades away as he sees your nipples poking from behind the lace of your top.

“You should wear stuff like this at work, I’d be in your new office everyday baby.” His fingers reaching out to touch the lace that’s stuck to your chest. He knows what he’s saying and doing is highly inappropriate and you could definitely get him fired for this but you have to admit the attention sends a lighting bolt of feelings to your core causing you to clench around nothing. You take another big sip of your drink.

“You man spreading while yelling at me is inappropriate, how can you scold me and not expect me to feel turned on seeing you like that.” People walking all around pushing the both of y’all closer together. His right hand moves forward to grab your waist. His touch causing goosebumps to rise of your skin from excitement, brown eyes blown out with lust he can’t keep his eyes off your chest. He takes the nearly drink from your hand and finishes it off, he sets it to the side and leads you closer to the speakers, you can feel the bass in your chest and your tongue in your throat as Joel takes your hand with his big one. The both of you facing each other standing near the back under red flashing lights. He guides your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his damp neck hair.

One of his hands searching for your bare skin, the spot between your corset and band of your pants, you feel extremely hot he can definitely feel the heat radiating off your body as his other hand moves down from the strap on your shoulder and over the curve of your fleshy breast poking out of the lace cup. You can feel yourself clench around nothing again the feeling you have in your clit is numbing. You want nothing but his big tanned hand on you rubbing circles while his salt and pepper beard scratches your neck.

The music is so loud it’s deafening only focusing on each others wondering hands. A bold feeling probably from the alcohol comes hurling up from you, causing you to pull yourself into Joel’s lips. There’s no hesitation from Joel whatsoever he welcomes your cranberry stained lips and vodka flavored tongue into his mouth. Both his hands sneak into the band of your pants and over the curve of your ass brushing past your thong his hands so greedy for skin to skin contact he just wants to bruise your skin, hot flesh spilling through the gaps in his fingers as he kneads your ass. Pressing yourself onto him you can feel his erection stop against your zipper. He feels extremely thick you couldn’t imagine him inside of you.

You break away from his mouth and attach your lips to his neck, salty from sweat you couldn’t care less. You can feel the vibrations in his neck from him groaning, it makes you excited and you immediately want to hear more. Grabbing his hand again you head to the exit door that leads out into an alley. The cold air hits your skin and you catch your breath but not for long as Joel pulls you out the alley and down the street into a parking garage.

He skips the elevator and pushes the emergency stairs door open and leans back against it to stop anyone else from opening it. Joel’s hands go straight for his belt pulling the buckle off then pulls the whole thing out from the loops with one forceful pull.

“Pull your pants down and put your hands on the rail.” There’s no doubt you’re wet. You can feel yourself spill over the small surface of your thong and onto your thighs it’s all too much and he hasn’t even began to touch you fully. You comply without a second thought pulling your pants down under your thighs. Joel hissed at the sight before him he leans forward from the door and walks closer to pull at the top of your thong causing the strap to snap back onto you. His hand coming down and grabbing your ass, jiggling the skin with the contact. He had you so relaxed with his touch that you almost forgot about the belt in his hand. Until he spanked you with it. The sound of leather on skin makes an echo all through the stairwell. A soundless scream leaving your lips it brings you back to reality. Brings you back to your dick boss with his hands on you leaving welts on your skin in a public place.

“I’d rather have you over my lap but that can wait till next time, sweetheart.” He grabs your pants and pulls them back up for you then motions for you to start walking. As you walk out of the stairwell and into the more public eye Joel digs in his pocket for his key and points it at his truck. The bright lights come on causing to to turn your head and shield your eyes. Before you can touch the door handle Joel sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your neck turning the both of y’all around.

“Let’s not waste any time, get in the backseat with me baby.” He pulls you back onto him and his hard cock then opens the back passenger door no one can see what you’re doing but they can definitely see the pairs of feet standing over each other under the door. His right hand going to your neck making your head fall back onto his shoulder. Left hand is heading for your screaming core. Your clit begging for his rough fingers to rub circles into it.

“Fucking slut, look a’cha dripping for me?” He’s so damn cocky, having you in a position like this and still being so mean. His middle finger moving from your clit to dip down and gather more of your wetness. He growls into your neck as his two middle fingers push into you causing you to moan out and clench around him. Joel moves his hand from your neck to your lips shoving his middle finger into your mouth making you suck it. Tongue swinging around the digit. His two fingers curving up into the squishy part of you, so much stimulation at one time you squeeze your thighs together feeling his hand squish in between them.

Both of his hands rip away from your body and push you up into his backseat, your body falls backward onto the seat he uses this to take your pants off tossing them behind you and then climbing into the truck. He slams the door and squeezes past you his hands going quick for his zipper. As you’re sitting up you look at his cock that he’s pulled out already, so girthy, looking at it sobers you up a little. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes hooded as his hand strokes himself. Pulling his hand away he opens the palm and spits right into it not breaking eye contact with you.

“C’mon baby, hop on.” He looks intoxicating like this, so desperate looking begging for you to be wrapped around him. Swinging your leg over his lap and lowering over him he holds himself steady as you sink onto him. You look at his face as you lower but he’s looking at your hungry cunt stretch over him making his cock disappear into you. Your clit makes contact with the patch of black and gray pubic hair and it makes your sensitive clit tingle. You can hear his legs unstick from the leathery seats as he lowers down to hammer into you. Bracing for the beating your pussy is about to get you grab his shoulder and the handle above the door.

“Princess too good to bounce on my cock, havin’ me do all the work.” His accent so thick he’s staring to slur his words together. His hand slaps your ass as he stops moving and just lays there.

“Ride me don’t make me ask again I won’t be nice.” You don’t dare disobey him you need to cum you lay back onto the drivers seat and move your hips in slow motions, he’s buried deep inside of you the tip of his cock hitting deep squishy areas and the girth of him stretching you so nicely. It’s steaming inside his truck precipitation all over the windows, every once and a while a car passing by shining their headlights into the truck no doubt seeing what’s going on even shielded behind the drivers seat.

Joel’s hands pulling the cups of your top down ripping the lace in the process. His fingers pinching and pulling your nipples. This causes you to clench around him. A intense chilling sensation ripping right through your lower abdomen.

“Oh shit my cock poking through stomach .” Joels a mumbling mess he can’t even make coherent sentences with you clenching so hard around him. His warm hand goes flat above your pubic bone as he presses on himself with your organs. You lean forward, hands going to his cheeks and lips smashing into his, and begin to use his cock for your own pleasure. The truck is shaking no doubt, people walking past drunkly to their cars cheering as they see steam covered windows and your loud moans coming from the vehicle.

Your thighs are shaking as you bounce on him moaning through the pain as your knees begin to buckle your hands grabbing his hair and pulling it in different directions. “I’ma cum inside you!” He’s loud, breathy and moaning his words into your skin. You can feel him gush inside of you feeling him coat your insides with his seed. It happened so hard you can taste the feeling of his spent in your throat. Bodies sticking to each other, you’re dripping wet causing his leg hair to stick and mat against his thighs. He leans forward and grabs a water bottle from the middle console behind you.

You lift yourself from his lap and wince as he falls out of you. Sitting right next to him you can feel the mixture of each others cum dripping out of you. “Not on my leather seats, whore.” Joel says and moves his hands over to slip a finger inside of you pushing the combination of spent back into you. His finger having no effect on your stretched walls the way his dick did. You see his limp dick twitch a little in his lap and decide to give it a kiss. Opening your mouth and giving the tip an open mouth kiss you can taste the tang of the both of y’all on your tongue. Joel gives you a little groan as you mouth lowers over him cleaning his cock off. He twitches inside your mouth as he hardens again. His body so sensitive to his release that he begins to clench his thighs and jerk his cock deeper into your mouth.

P-please, baby stop ill cum again I know it.” You decide to push him to his limit after all those times of him giving you stupid work that was his all along you keep sucking hallowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his shaft. It’s not long before his hand presses on the back of your head and he’s sputtering what little he had left into your mouth. He’s gasping now, immediately soft in your mouth you pop off and swallow what’s in your mouth.

“When you come in Monday morning I’m bending you over my desk and eating you out.” You sit there proud with yourself and your actions and for once excited to go into work.

————🥴🤭😈

reblog, like, and validate me🫶🏻

0711

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 6 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

Summary: Amidst the chaos of learning the truth about Tanya, you meet someone from the past and things develop between you and Daemon.

Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, description of Statutory rape, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

As you heard the news about Tanya, your heart started to race and your chest began to feel tight. You knew that you needed a moment to yourself, so you hastily excused yourself from the cafeteria and ran hurriedly to make your way to the fourth floor to get to your room.

On the way you saw Daemon as he was being escorted for his session and the washed out look on your face concerned him to say the least.

As soon as you went inside your room, you locked the door and sat down on the bed to think about Tanya. Poor girl, she was suffering so much with her sickness while she was here. But she seemed so happy while she was discharged, she hugged you so warmly as if she couldn't wait to get out of this place, then what happened to her?

And Why was her body found near King's landing?

You were lost in all the questions when you remembered the note you had found under her mattress so you quickly got up and reached into your closet.

Reading the note now filled you with immense guilt and uneasiness, at first you had assumed that she was just paranoid of her environment, a mental health facility wasn't exactly a happy place to be in, you figured that it was one of her personalities just writing anything but now your heart felt sinking into your guts as you realized that the note could have been a distress call for help.

Perhaps she knew something, or someone who was trying to harm her. You felt nauseous about the implications of the note, perhaps you could have helped her if you had passed on the note to the police. You should have looked for her, why didn't you?

Tears rolled down your eyes as you remembered her sweet face, she was so young and kind and she didn't deserve whatever had happened to her.

That afternoon members of the staff were informed that the police would be interviewing each member separately, you had never been questioned by the police before so obviously it made you nervous.

You couldn't even breathe properly, at one moment it seemed as if you'd die of a heart attack like your mother did.

As you were finally called in, you went inside Dr Darren’s office, the investigation was being held there.

“Good afternoon” you mumbled as you sat down. There were two men sitting opposite you, a middle aged brown haired man and the other one with dark hair seemed younger, and he also seemed familiar for some reason.

"I'm Detective Hightower," the older man said, introducing himself and his partner, "Detective Criston." You nodded nervously and tried to take in a deep breath, but your chest felt constricted still..

"You seem nervous," Det. Criston Spoke as he offered you a glass of water. "Have a drink”

“I'm fine..i am just nervous” you spoke nervously,

“Don't be.. it's routine..we just have a few questions regarding Tanya Anderson” Your eyes teared up as Det. Hightower said her name.

“Sure” you were looking anywhere but at the officers and you wondered if they would see you as a suspect because you were acting really suspicious.

“You're tearing up, I can imagine it must be hard as you were assigned as her custodian, is that correct?” Det. Criston asked, his voice firm but professional.

“Yeahh”

You had tried so hard to control your tears but you failed eventually so you placed your hand over your eyes as you cried as silently as you could. Det. Criston got up from his chair and offered you the glass of water so you took it from him this time.

“Thank you and I'm sorry”

You mumbled meekly so Det. Hightower gave you a comforting smile.

“It's alright, take your time”

A minute later you finally took a deep breath and looked up at them.

“Okay I'm ready..thank you for being so kind” you said politely as you recovered from the outburst you had just now.

“No issues..so y/n..how long have you been here for?”

“Two years”

“Was Miss Tanya the first person you looked after, not just as a custodian but as a friendly companion as well?” Hightower asked so you shook your head in response.

“There are several patients I care for while I'm on duty, she was one of them but we definitely got along, she just seemed so out of place here when she wasn't suffering from her ailments” they looked at each other as you said that.

“What do you mean?” Hightower inquired,

“She seemed normal most of the time and then sometimes she would freak out out of nowhere, she was suffering from multiple personality disorder or something. Dr. Vis was treating her here at the facility” you told them so Hightower nodded his head as he wrote down your statement. Why did you have to mention Vis? They must know that already.

“Alright …did she ever tell you anything personal, about anyone trying to hurt her or just anything really?” Criston inquired so you shook your head.

“No, not really, she often talked about her childhood but never went into much detail.”

“Okay good, thanks for your time y/n, we will connect again if required” Criston said to you so you nodded and as you were about to get up you realized that now was the one and only chance you'd get to tell them about the note you had found, even though it might get you in trouble with the management.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked nervously so Det. Hightower gave you a slight nod.

“What happened to her? When did she die?” You asked them solemnly so they shared a look with each other.

“It's a classified information that we can't share just yet”

“Okay ummm the day after she was discharged from here, I was cleaning her room for the new patient and found this under her mattress, perhaps it can be of help”

Criston grabbed the piece of paper and as soon as he had read it, you saw the worried look on his face instantly.

“Who else knows about this?” Hightower asked you.

“Nobody” as you answered you noticed that he seemed instantly relieved.

“Thanks for bringing this up to us”

You nodded as they dismissed but as you stepped out of the office you heard Detective Criston calling your name so you turned around.

“Hey y/n..I think you didn't recognise me in there” You looked at him confused as he said that, he did seem familiar. “It's Cole, we went to middle school together.. perhaps the term rock boy would jog your memory?”

“Oh you're the boy that collected rocks ..oh i know youuuu” you smiled as you finally recalled the memory, it brought an unexpected smile to your face. “So detective huh? That's amazing... wow that's so cool” you said to him as you crossed your arms.

“Thank you..well i am still obsessed with collecting rocks though” You let out a small laugh as he said that.

“Why have I never seen you here before?” You asked him so he sighed deeply

“Because I just got transferred like a month ago, I was in Bradford before I got here” you nodded as he said that.

“Ahhh well okay..i better get back to my work now, but it was really nice catching up with you” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile.

“Sure”

“Ummm if you find out something about her. Will you let me know?” You asked him so he nodded in response.

“Is there a number I can call here to connect with you?” He asked you so you nodded so he took out a pen from the coat's pocket and offered you his palm as a parchment.

“Uhhh okay” you chuckled nervously as you grabbed onto his fingers to write the digits on his palm before you mumbled a goodbye..

As you turned around you saw Daemon standing a few feet away from you with two guards holding onto him. He was staring deeply into your soul and it made you nervous.

“Not this guy again” you heard Criston mumbling so you turned around to look at him. Did they know each other? The events of the day were becoming increasingly strange. It was especially puzzling since Daemon wasn't even here when Tanya left so why was he being questioned.

You hadn't seen Daemon all day, so visiting his room directly seemed risky. Waiting until night, you knocked on his door once before sneaking into the terrace and walked towards the ledge, looking down. Your heart sank again as you thought about Tanya, imagining her final moments stirred emotions you didn't wish to face. You couldn't shake off the feeling of helplessness, knowing that you weren't there for her when she needed someone in her corner.

The scent of mahogany filled your nostrils before he had his arm wrapped around your waist so you turned around and hugged him tightly, finally letting the tears out. Caressing your head gently he then placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. Your fingers clenched around his shirt as you felt the warmth of his body, on a cold night he felt like a comforting bonfire.

“I found a note under the mattress, a cry for help and i ignored it..i thought she probably wrote it in her fits of paranoia, what if I had caused it…what if it could have been prevented if I had gone to the authorities or perhaps if I would have checked on her–” your lips trembled as you spoke, you had been keeping it all in since this morning and his hot comforting embrace was all you needed in the moment.

“Shhhhh it's not your fault alright? You couldn't have known darling..it's an unfortunate tragedy but you can't put the blame on yourself okay” you shook your head as he said that so he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears “Hey look at me..not your fault, none of this is your fault” he mumbled softly so you placed your head back on his chest and nodded as you let out your tears until you couldn't cry any more.

Once your breathing leveled back to normal you pulled away from him.

“Why did they call you in for questioning? You weren't even here back then” you asked him, worry evident in your voice.

“I don't really know..why did that copper have your telephone number on his palm?” He asked you, a hint of jealousy visible and it made you smile a little.

“We went to school together..he remembered me” he squinted his eyes for a moment before he rolled them around in typical Daemon fashion.

“He's an arse” he grumbled.

“Why would you say that? Do you know him from before?”

“It doesn't matter..how are you feeling?” he asked as he shifted the conversation again.

“Okay..I'm okay” you mumbled softly.

“You should get out of this forsaken place once in a while” he said to you.

“And go where..do what?”

“Anything..you're young and beautiful, live your fucking life” you let out a chuckle as he said that.

“And do exactly what out there? Get drunk in bars and have sex with random men?” he grabbed the back of your neck as you said that, the smirk on your face only boiled his anger. He hated imagining that scenario in his head, a sight of you in some other man's bed, writhing and moaning underneath him.

“I'd kiss you right now if I wasn't your first kiss” he whispered against your mouth so you stifled the moan that was threatening to spill from deep within you.

“I have been kissed before”

“I don't think so”

The audacity. Not that he was wrong.

“It wasn't consensual but i have been kissed” his brows furrowed as you said that.

“Elaborate”

“You don't want to know trust me”

“I do want to know”

“Well long story short I was at party with few of my friends, I got drunk out of my mind and then started to cry because I was just sad.. really sad, about my life and I kept crying and this guy that I was dancing with kissed me out of nowhere.. and i hated it, I didn't like it at all” you mumbled hurriedly so he grabbed your cheeks between his palms. If he had enough information he'd have found the guy and perhaps beat him to pulp for touching you like that in your vulnerable advantageous state.

“I'm starting to see why you're so appalled by intimacy”

“I'm not against it..i just don't want to do it with every other fella” he smirked as you responded. He knew you would want to do it with him sooner or later, his ego was soaring these days due to that particular reason.

“Kissing a person you adore is a high darling, nothing short of a drug” he whispered in your ear so you pulled away from him to control yourself.

“You must have kissed many people then” you taunted him so he chuckled.

“Didn't really adore half of them”

“Well i didn't enjoy being kissed so–”

“Were you attracted to that bloke who forced himself upon you?” he asked strictly.

“No”

“That's why..you have to have the hots for the man who's into your mouth darling” you bit on your lips as he said that. You had definite hots for him and you wanted his mouth in yours.

“We should go”

Before we do something stupid you thought.

He stared at your lips for a moment so you placed your hands on his chest and nudged him slightly to get out of his warmth but you weren't really expecting what he was about to say next. Unpredictable as always.

“Sleep with me tonight” his tone was deathly serious and you couldn't deny how your intimate areas were tingling at the prospect of it.

“Are you joking?” you chuckled to hide your arousal.

“No ..I'm not joking, I'm not asking you to have sex with me, just sleep with me, in the same bed”

“That's not a good idea at all”

It was a great idea but a risk you couldn't take these days, besides you had never slept with a man you were attracted to before.

“I'll come to your window..nobody will know”

“No ..stop..lets go” you giggled as you dragged him along with you to take him back to his room.

Once you laid down in your bed, your mind shifted from thoughts of Tanya to those of Daemon, you wondered how it would feel to have him so close to you, his mouth rubbing against yours slowly and sensually.

The following day, you were assigned to clean room 390, formerly occupied by Mrs. Rodriguez, who had been discharged. This left you surprised, considering her frail mental state. While tidying up, the sound of the door opening caught your attention, and Doctor Vis stepped in, his presence intimidating and commanding like always.

“Good morning doctor” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile and walked closer to you, you didn't even understand what he was doing or why he was looking at you like that but a part of you knew it couldn't have been about anything else but Daemon. Your life seemed to revolve around him only these days.

“Did you hear about the upcoming gala on Sunday?” He asked you so you nodded in response. The fundraising gala was traditionally held annually at King's Landing institution, offering a unique opportunity for patients, doctors, and staff to come together for one night, setting apart from the usual daily routine.

“I want you to take my…uhhh i want you to make sure that Daemon is on his best behavior at the gala” He said to you, making you all perplexed about his motive.

“How would I do that?” you asked him firmly so he smiled again.

“Just keep him engaged in conversations, think of it as a part of your duty and you'll earn a hefty bonus immediately”

Well the bonus would be nice but the entire situation bewildered you. Why did he only assign these extra tasks to you? Especially after that day when he had seen Daemon attacking you?

On the night of the gala, you chose to pamper yourself with a refreshing shower and meticulous grooming. After doing your makeup, you slipped into a black, full-length dress gifted to you by your mother, a piece you had never worn before, you never found the occasion for it.

You didn't dress up this lavishly for the previous galas as you really didn't care unlike this year. The dress featured thin straps that hugged your figure, a smidgen of cleavage on display, leaving you feeling both elegant but also slightly exposed. However you wanted to look sexy tonight, it was strange having such feelings, wanting to dress up for someone, getting all dolled up so he'd look at you differently and would perhaps make your knees tremble with his inappropriate touching and filthy words.

You enjoyed that feeling.

As you reached the main hall you felt everyone's eyes on you, especially your colleagues, they were not used to seeing you so made up.

There were plenty of influential people invited at the gala, it was a grand affair, alot to look forward to but your eyes wandered around to just see him, besides you had a job to do.

You didn't know what you were expecting but you definitely didn't expect to see Daemon in an all black suit that gave him the aura of a royal prince. Two guards had been appointed by the Viserys to bring him to the venue but as he entered Viserys gestured them to uncuff him from the shackles and then he gestured to you to keep an eye on him. The look hadn't gone unnoticed by Daemon as he walked towards you.

“Who knew you were hiding all this behind that granny dress you wear everyday” he mumbled as he neared you so you rolled your eyes.

“Who knew you were capable of wearing a two-piece suit?” you retorted making him chuckle in response

“You look gorgeous love” he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips,

“You look handsome” you responded honestly.

“Thank you”

“I'll get a drink” you turned around to get to the bar as you felt flushed under his intense gaze. As soon as you had your back to him he stared at your hips shamelessly while you walked away from him and cursed profanities under his breath, the dress hugged you in all the right places and his instincts were screaming at him to pounce on you right now.

To claim you in every possible way, show you what you were missing in your bed every night.

He was half a wild unruly creature and sometimes you made it really hard for him to keep that animal intact inside him, your alluring presence ignited the fire already burning within him, compelling him to satisfy that beast who just wanted to mate with his mate.

You made it really hard for him, literally and figuratively.

His eyes met with Shyla at the other end of the hallway but she quickly looked away as he approached you.

“It's my birthday” he mumbled as he stood next to you at the bar so you looked at him surprised.

“Really?”

“You can check my records”

“Why didn't you tell me all day?” You asked him so he rolled his eyes.

“I don't celebrate it”

“Why not?” you probed further to make him open up so he sighed.

“You need friends and family to do so.. didn't have any of that growing up” there was a hint of sadness in his tone and you felt your heart clenching at the sight of him.

“Well..how old are you now?”’

“35.. I feel ancient”

“I hear you” you hesitated for a moment before you spoke further,

“I have a job to do ..Dr. Vis have asked me to keep you in line and in return i would receive an early bonus” he chuckled as you said that, clearly amused.

“He's an imbecile” he scoffed

“True but he's being cautious, you areeee unpredictable” you admitted to which he responded with a smirk.

“Uhhhuh and that arse thinks a pretty little thing like you would get me under control if I wanted to go berserk right about now?” he asked arrogantly as he stepped closer to you. The scent of mahogany made your knees weak already and he hadn't even touched you yet.

“Perhaps I can do that” you replied confidentially as if to challenge him.

“You're overconfident love…I care about you but you can't tie me on a leash and have me wrapped around your fingers like a domestic pet” His words were affecting you in ways you couldn't even describe to yourself, you didn't think it was possible to feel so turned on by a man speaking to you so callously.

"Mhmmm, perhaps I would simply have to manipulate you emotionally." He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you challenged him again.

“And how would you do that?”

“Like this” you made a sad face and your eyes teared up suddenly as you looked at him with that pathetic puppy look on your face, his eyes softened for a moment before he realized that you were messing with him.

“Oh you little minx”

You couldn't help but grin at his response, feeling the sizzling chemistry between you, the flirting and the electric tension filling the air. The sight of him dressed so sharply added fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within your core. He then walked so close to you that there was not an inch of space left between your bodies, for a moment you worried about being seen like this but his words kept you hooked to him.

“Ask me to be nice and I won't disappoint you” he whispered in your ear.

“Will you be nice please?” You asked him softly so he caressed the bridge of your nose before he stepped away from you.

“You got it Princess”

And he upheld his promise, throughout the gala he was well behaved and polite with everyone, not that many people were interacting with him. He was misunderstood and he had done nothing to diffuse those rumors about him attacking Shyla. Sometimes you envied the power he had where he didn't give any fucks about his reputation.

Later that night you grabbed a piece of cake and made your way to his room, he had left the Gala before you and you didn't want to look suspicious so you waited for a bit before you stole the cake and sneaked out quietly.

Like always he had his door open so you entered immediately.

As expected, you found him standing by the window, his arms resting against the frame, the soft light of the moon bathing his silhouette.

“Happy birthday” you mumbled softly as he turned around and his gaze met with yours. The gentle flicker of the candle you had carefully placed on the cake casted a warm orange hue and he didn't know what it was about the gesture but it made him want to cry. All his adult life he had fought against emotions like these but with you he was failing miserably.

He walked towards you as he stared at you so you gestured towards the cake,

“Blow and make a wish” you told him so he chuckled and shook his head but his resolved melted as you made a pout, you didn't bring any fork so you cut the corner of the slice with your fingers and offered the sweet delicious treat to him, you weren't really expecting him to suck your fingers clean off the delicious cream. He grabbed the plate from your hands and stepped away from you to place it on the dresser before he approached you again.

“I want to touch you” he murmured under his breath and your heart ceased to beat for a moment.

“Where?” you asked hesitantly but evidently turned on by the husky whisper of his voice.

“Everywhere” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest so you looked up at him.

“You can't start touching me everywhere at once, it's …scary” you mumbled softly.

His fingers trailed up from your wrist and you shuddered as they caressed the curve of your shoulders, he messed around with the straps of your dress before he lowered them down, exposing your clavicle and a bit of cleavage, it wasn't really much but you felt as if you were all naked , you felt as if he could see right through you and the thought made you feel so aroused.

As his thumbs traced over your collarbone, your eyes rolled back in your head involuntary.

“Is this alright? Not too much, hmm?” he asked, his voice gentle but slightly mocking in your ears.

“No..not much..” the trembling of your voice betrayed the conviction in your words.

“Yet you're shaking like a leaf” he murmured as his thumb traced over the curve of your breasts, ragged breaths escaped your chest at the touch. You could feel yourself dripping in your thong. “Depriving yourself of such pleasures all your life? It's a shame darling, a woman as sensual as you was made to be ridden every night”

You silenced him with a gentle press of your palm against his lips as he spoke filthily.

“I don't want to be touched by anyone or everyone” you mumbled meakly as his hands wrapped around your neck like a necklace, his hold both possessive and gentle at the same time.

“And I would be honored if you'd allow me to savor a part of you that you've never shared before, my sweet girl. I promise to keep it safe, secure, and thoroughly pleased.” your eyes moistened at the sincerity in his voice.

“Mmmmhm? Kiss me then”

You looked him in the eye and cupped his cheeks as before you got angled up and pecked his lips briefly.

He leaned down and took a whiff of your scent before he sucked a mark on your neck, his lips then trailed up to your jaw and as he kissed the corner of your mouth, you felt your knees trembling with anticipation.

“Daemon” you whispered against his mouth as he cupped your cheeks.

“Mmm?” He asked, concern filled his voice as he didn't want to make you uncomfortable in the slightest.

“I …adore you..very much”

“As do i”’

With those words he then planted his lips on yours, your breath hitched in your chest as you gasped in his mouth, the wave of feelings that you experienced felt unfamiliar. This feeling that you had, you couldn't have anticipated it. It definitely wasn't the same as kissing your own hand as a child to practice kissing, and it definitely didn't feel as awful as it had with that man you didn't even remember the name of. He let go of your upper lips and looked at you for a moment,

“I'm not kissing you back am i?” You asked him between your bated breaths but he didn't answer, he smiled instead and leaned down to capture your lower lip into his mouth , his hands cupping your other cheeks as he pulled you closer to him.

The feeling of his warm big hands rubbing over the curve of your rear flipped a switch inside you right then and you reciprocated his movements, arms curled around his neck as you followed the rhythm of his mouth.

For the first time in your life you felt as if you were in a hazy dream, this feeling felt too good to be true, and for the first time your boring mundane life felt as exciting and as thrilling as those wild dreams you have had all your life. And it terrified you if you were being honest with yourself.

As his tongue slipped into your mouth you were a goner, the taste of him was something you could see yourself getting addicted to, it offered you a euphoric high like that of a drug as he had said, it felt intoxicating, but it was a high no other drug could ever compare to.

As the kiss deepened, he didn't pull away until he was gasping for breath, stealing the air from your lungs with each frantic inhale. Doubts filled your head, and you wondered whether the kiss was as magical for him as it was for you. Did he feel the fire burning within his soul, or was this moment merely a fleeting distraction for him?

“It is” he mumbled softly as peppered kisses all over your face so you looked at him confused “it is as magical for me as it was for you darling”

You still didn't understand how he was so intuitive, perhaps he had a strong sixth sense or something, considering that he was half dragon, you were still on the fence of believing it completely.

“Turn around for me” he asked you, his tone commanding so you hesitated for a moment before you complied. Then, the cool touch of metal wrapping around your neck caught you off guard, drawing a gasp from your lips.

Honestly you just wanted to kiss him again and then again.

“Daemon–”

“It's a gift…belonged to my mother” You turned around to look at him as he said that.

“I don't think I deserve it yet” you whispered softly so he placed his fingers on your lips to shut you up.

“Just keep it .. please”

“Okay”

He placed his forehead down on yours as he sighed so you tucked his hair behind his ears before you cupped his cheeks.

“What is bothering you?”

He wasn't the only one with strong senses it seems.

“Nothing” he mumbled as he grabbed the locket of the pendant between his fingers and contemplated his words before speaking “Don't put it on in front of Viserys”

“Viserys?” You looked at him confused so he nodded.

“Dr. Vis”

He had a full name? Why didn't you know that after all these years?

“Okay..why though?” Your puzzled expression prompted him to sigh again.

“He'd recognise it..it belonged to my mother” his answer only confused you further.

“Why would he know about this Daemon?” you asked him as the curiosity piqued, you knew Dr Vis had been treating him for a while but why would he know about the necklace you thought, it was personal. And that's when he revealed the truth about his relationship with the man you knew as Dr. Vis.

“Cause he's my brother.. he's my older brother”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

[batrogers]

Febuwhump Day 20: Truth Serum

Fandom: Linked Universe

Approx 1300 words

Rated T for alcohol consumption and mature themes (politics and violence, not sex)

(References a lot of my own backstory ideas for the boys from other headcanon posts I've made, and other writing.)

In which the Chain tries to relax, and a few lips get too loose.

“Frankly some of you should be grateful you don’t have a Queen,” Twilight said, and Link leaned back in his chair and reconsidered if he really wanted to keep up with the amount of liquor the others were having.

They were already a pitcher of arkhi and two bottles of wine down, most of which had gone into the older men’s glasses. Link was drinking, but he’d been drinking kumis and beer most of his life because the water wasn’t safe. It was getting better, slowly – as far as he could tell, monarchy and Hyrule seemed to make the world repair itself when they were aligned – but that wasn’t Twilight’s experience.

Wasn’t the rest, either.

“Why not?” Wind retorted.

“A queen’s at least better than a King,” Time said. He spoke over the smaller boy, his chair tilted back and a small smile on his face as he looked into his nearly empty cup.

“There’s no reason a Queen’s better than a king. Rusl doesn’t trust her, and he did know the old King.”

Link frowned. “Is it usually a King causing problems for all of us?” he asked. It was true a King had been why the younger Zelda was put into a centuries long sleep, but...

“King Daphnes did what he could to save Hyrule,” Wind insisted.

“I know King Rhoam was trying...” Wild added.

Warriors – sitting between Twilight and Time, and Link was beginning to suspect this was for the best – chuckled. “We haven’t had a King in a long time, but everyone does say it was a Queen that set us up for where we are now.”

Time raised his eyebrow. “That sounds like a bad thing.”

“Oh, it is.”

Link looked desperately at the bar. Legend and Sky were getting more food for their table, but they’d gotten caught up talking and didn’t seem likely to return soon, but by all the Gods Link hoped they would before this got any further.

“I told you,” Twilight continued. “A Queen isn’t better!”

“Does your Zelda know you think that?” Four asked.

“Yes!”

Time burst into laughter. “I imagine she takes that well.”

Twilight slapped one hand on the table. “She doesn’t have to take it well. It’s not like she can argue, they haven’t found the path into the castle grounds.”

“Is your Rusl one of the Sheikah?” Warriors asked, and Link rapidly tried to remember who the Sheikah even were. Judging by the look on Wild’s face, this was bad.

“No. Why?” Twilight made a face. “The Sheikah nearly died out, their village was destroyed.”

“Did the Royal Family kill them off?” Time asked.

Wild put his face in his hands. “Hylia’s fucking tits,” he muttered and pushed his chair back from the table. He got up, and the other three didn’t even notice. Wind followed. Four, seated next to him, continued to watch with a look of near fascination. Link was pretty sure he was drunk as well, given his size.

“Why would you guess that?” Twilight retorted.

Time shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. As if there was nothing unusual at all about his guess. As if he wasn’t about the say the worst thing Link could imagine: “I’ve seen what they did for the Royal Family.”

Warriors reached for the pitcher of wine again, and Link debated if he should take it away before they dug the hole deeper. “For them or to them?”

“For them.” Time blinked and offered his cup. “Why would you ask about what they did to them?”

“Zelda spent nearly four months not revealing herself again in case Impa was working with the Witches to try and kill her. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the Sheikah killed a King.”

Link’s throat caught, but that, of course, was the moment Legend and Sky returned. He waved for them to sit down and Legend shut his mouth on the obvious question and laid down the basket of bread before sitting to whisper in his ear.

“What the fuck are they talking about?”

Link swallowed. “Their royal families and the Sheikah, now.”

Time, unhelpfully, laughed again. “Did someone start telling that story then?”

“What story?” Sky asked.

“That it was a Sheikah who killed the King.” Time took a long drink and wiped his mouth. “I mean, I know Twilight comes after me so I suppose the distrust of the Royal Family would stick after what Zelda’s father did.”

“What did he do?” Legend asked. He looked like he wanted to regret it immediately, but stuck it out and kept his face even.

Time stared blindly into his cup and shrugged. “He tried to change Hyrule to suit himself. He killed Zelda’s mother and sisters and left her alive thinking she couldn’t inherit the goddess’ blood because he considered her a son. He was wrong, obviously.”

“Didn’t you say he was still alive?” Twilight asked.

“Oh, he is, but he can’t do anything.” Time gestured broadly with his glass, drunk enough he nearly spilled. “Zelda would hardly let him try even if he could. He narrowly survived an attempt on his life and stays in his rooms now.”

“By the Sheikah?” Warriors guessed.

Time, unnervingly, laughed again. “Well. Sort of. What about yours, Twilight? Did Rusl kill the King?”

Twilight sighed. “Yeah, him and a group of his friends. They were helpful when Zant took over, because that meant they could get me into the castle and help out but Zelda knows they exist now so it makes it harder.”

“So better for them you’re with them and she can’t retaliate,” Time pointed out.

“Can’t she just tell you to stop?” Warriors asked. “Like – wait you’re not in the army are you?”

“No, of course not.” Twilight rolled his eyes and shot Warriors an annoyed look. “Why are you?”

“What?” Warriors blinked from him to the rest of them. “It’s not like I had a choice, I’m the eldest son. All of us belong to the army.”

Four sat up straight. “Wait, belong to, like you’re stuck there?”

“Yeah, like that.” Warriors toasted the smaller man. “You’re too young still, aren’t you?”

“For another year or so, but I’m not sticking around for it.”

“Who would?” Legend muttered. “Hylia’s cunt, Wars, just leave.”

Warriors’ cup hit the table heavily and he spread his hands with a dark smile. “I can’t, Legend. It’s not allowed. If I go anywhere, my mother and sister goes to jail, and me too if I’m anywhere they can find me.”

Time put his hand on Warriors’ shoulder then. He closed his eyes with an almost pained look, and Link swallowed the lump in his throat.

He knew of people trapped like that. Usually young women in the cities, caught by charity that turned into demands they work off the debt before they could leave – but what debt had Warriors had? Was it something about the war?

He couldn’t ask. Wouldn’t. He could already tell the question had left him cross and angry, and Time pinched the bridge of his nose.

“We all have duties we can wind up trapped by,” Time said. “Fuck this...”

“Sure you’re trapped by loyalty. Not all of us get hung up on that,” Twilight snapped. “Did Zelda buy you off?”

“She gave me Lon Lon Ranch, if that’s what you mean,” Time said. He turned a deceptively mild smile Twilight’s way. “Mostly because I needed some protection after she blamed her attempt on her father’s life on me.”

“On you?” Warriors’ chair hit the ground with a snap. “Why?”

“It was convenient. Everyone already knew I’d lost my mind in the last battle.” He touched his face, over his scarred eye, then shook himself off. “Excuse me, I should go to bed. You, too.”

Warriors didn’t need more convincing. Twilight muttered something rude under his breath, and left not for the bedrooms upstairs but the stables. Link let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and swore.

“How much of that do you think they’ll remember in the morning?” Legend muttered. “Fuck. Hyrule, what the fuck else did they even say?”

[javipispunk]

PINE SYRUP

Chapter One: Moment of Truth

Jackson Era!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Through the cold and desperation the pine needles do not fall. The needles are sharp and bitter to ward off strangers, yet with tender care they make the richest syrup.

TW: mentions of death, eating, slow burn, eventual smut. mean!joel, age gap (27/56)

A/N: I wanted to write a Jackson Era Enemies to Lovers so lets see how it goes

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

You were mad as hell again. The weather sucked, you were outta food and outta drink and all alone in the wilderness. After weeks out in the Rockies you knew you needed a safe haven, Winter was on the horizon and there was no way you would make it to Spring by yourself. So there you were standing outside of the gates of Jackson. A mirage of the pearly gates, ready to face your judgment. All you had were the clothes on your back, an empty rifle, a half dozen hand rolled cigarettes and a mason jar. You were hoping you could buy your way in with the cigs. The protocol for trying to enter the commune was unclear. You’d been alone for so long you weren’t sure if you still knew how to talk to people, let alone beg for safety.

Then a voice rang out from up high.

“State your business.”

You cleared your throat and tried your best to yell. Your life was spent trying your best to stay quiet, hidden. Being found meant dying. Being loud wasn’t something you were too keen on doing.

“Looking for shelter.” Short and to the point seemed the best way to go about this.

“Hands up. Get on your knees.” You followed orders, no point in making it this far only to be shot because you didn’t feel like listening. It was hard to get down though. You were exhausted. There was a very real possibility that the person yelling at you would have to help you get up.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see two guns trained on you. One to the left of the gate up on the wall and one in the same position on the right. The gates opened up and out came two men, rifles up, ready to shoot and a dog. They approached you cautiously. Your mouth was dry, from nerves and lack of water. You wanted to get a good look at the men but you didn’t want to seem like a threat. One of the men signaled the dog to go up to you. It ran over, sniffed around, walked back in between the two men and laid down.

After they seemed satisfied with the dog's intuition to not tear you to shreds one of the men spoke. His voice was deep and angered.

“You infected?”

“No.” You replied curtly.

“You won’t survive long out there by yourself.”

“No shit. That's why I’m here, bud.” That might have been a little aggressive and probably wouldn’t get you into their good graces but you were starving and just wanted to get the interrogation over with.

“I ain’t your bud”

You huffed. Obviously this man was not your ‘bud’. It was a figure of speech but you were pretty sure this man didn’t care and you were too tired to explain. Either way the point was moot.

The other man raised his hand up to the man that had spoken, silencing him. You finally looked up to take both of them in. The one with his hand up was tall, had pitch black hair and even darker eyes. The one that had been speaking to you was tall as well. His hair was a lighter brown and peppered with grey, this pattern was mirrored in his patchy facial hair. He was broader than the other man too, and quite obviously older. And much to your dismay he was breathtakingly handsome. They both were. There was something broken in the man, a deep festering of anger that matched your own. Something you could only see in someone else if you saw it in yourself.

You didn’t know what day it was. It’s not like you had a calendar on you, just knew it was fall, mid October you were guessing. The air was sorrowful, a crisp breeze rustling the fallen leaves. With the cold came the haunting of old memories, the past dragging you backwards. The ghosts of yesterday getting closer than they have ever been.

The younger man kept his rifle trained on you while the older man slowly approached you

“Don’t move a fucking muscle” he barked. Then he snatched up your own rifle that lay useless on the ground. You wanted to tell him it was empty but figured it would do you better to keep your mouth shut and let him figure that out for himself. And just as you predicted he tried to eject the cartridge and nothing came out.

“Empty.” He said. He then grabbed your bag and walked back to the other man handing him the rifle.

At this moment you decided to speak up. You didn’t want him taking all you had to your name.

“Can I have my bag? You can take the cigs but there ain’t much else in there.”

“If there ain’t much in there then you won’t mind me taking it.”

Before you could protest the other man uttered a warning.

“Joel.” Joel. His name was Joel. At least you didn’t have to call him bud anymore.

“Well Joel.” You said with a snark and pursing of your lips. “What's the verdict?”

He glared daggers at you. You didn’t know what you did to deserve his ire. But you were still at the other end of two rifles and knew you shouldn’t push their buttons too much at risk of being shot, or worse not being let in. A quick death was better than a long one of starvation out in the cold. He let out another huff. Seemed to be his favorite thing to do. The men gave each other a look. The one whose name you still didn’t know gave you a nod.

“Up.” Was all he said. You were stiff and achy so it was a struggle getting up. Your joints felt as ready to snap as dry brush in the desert. It must have been taking too long because Joel spoke out again.

“He said up.”

“I’m trying. Gimme a sec jeez.” And then with a deep exhale you managed to get up.

“Are you hurt?” Not Joel asked. He was nicer than Joel. He had kinder eyes and was obviously more patient.

“No, just a few scrapes and bruises.”

“Follow us.”

So you did, albeit a little hesitantly. This was unfamiliar territory. You hadn’t stepped foot into a community in years, having spent the last while with three other people wandering the west like true desperados. But slowly they got picked off one by one. One a hunting accident, one sickness and one a bite. So here you were sucking up your pride and asking for help, putting blind trust into strangers, breaking your number one rule.

Finally the other man gave you his name. Tommy. And then you gave him yours.

“Lets get some food in ya.” He said as he handed your bag back to you. You weren’t gonna argue with that.

After you had gotten some food you sat with Tommy and Joel. Tommy gave you an overview of how Jackson was run. There was order and routine. Things made sense. You guys got to chatting about what your role in Jackson would be.

“What are you good for?” Tommy asked.

“Shootin shit.” You both let out a small laugh. Joel didn’t.

“What else? No offense but we ain’t gonna let you out on patrol right now.”

“Fine by me. I’m good with produce. Like farming and preserving things. Pickling, curing, making jams, syrups and the like.”

Tommy nodded. Joel rolled his eyes.

“Is that an issue?” You asked Joel pointedly.

Tommy spoke Joels name under his breath.

“No. No issue.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Pretty good with my hands too if things need fixing” you added.

“No need, we got it covered.” Joel dismissed your offer, which made Tommy utter his name yet again.

Then Tommy prodded you, asking more questions.

“Where ya comin’ from that you learned all that?”

“Western Pennsylvania. Swear the folks out there been living their life like it was the apocalypse decades before it actually happened. They know damn near everything about surviving. But I’ve been traveling around for a few years now.”

“Solo?” Joel asked. Finally a question that didn’t have malice behind it. Now it was laced with pity. You didn’t really like him at this point and it seemed like he didn’t like you too much either.

“Recently, yes.” They seemed to understand what that meant, that the people you had been with had been freed from this Hell, this gruesomeness, that you all found yourselves living in. You hoped death had been kind to them. To survive was to know atrocity. And these men were survivors, as were you.

You hoped that you wouldn’t have to work so hard on surviving while in Jackson. You hoped, at least for a little while, that you could just be.

When the conversation had wrapped up Tommy offered to walk you to the house you would be staying in. The streets were quaint. Nothing to write home about but it was a quiet safe town and that's all you could ever ask for. Your own personal Troy, here's to hoping no giant wooden horses would show up.

On the way there he brought up Joel, who you just learned was Tommy’s older brother.

“You’ll have to excuse my brother. He’s not too trusting.” He looked at you wearily.

“That’s fine. I ain’t either. It’s a man eat man world out there. Gotta be careful. I ain’t too keen on talking to strangers either.”

“I know. But he don’t gotta be mean. We can always use the help around here. You said you know how to cure things?”

“Yes sir.” You replied.

“Been trying to perfect our beef jerky recipe. Maybe you can help with that.”

“Sounds good bud.” You gave Tommy a smile. You were pleased he didn’t interject with an ‘I’m not your bud’ like his brother did.

“Here we are.” Tommy said while pointing to a small little home on the right. It was everything you could have asked for. A mailbox, a porch, a fence, a suburban dream that died when the world ended.

You and Tommy walked up the bluestone path to the front door. You smiled thinking about all the weeds you could pick that wormed their way through the cracks in the stones. Something your father had complained about before the outbreak now felt like a luxury. Tommy showed you around, handed you the keys and a set of clean clothes.

There was an empty spice rack in the kitchen. You placed your lone mason jar in it, hoping you could fill it with a myriad of scents one day.

You took a long hot shower, rinsing away grime and sodden memories. Afterwards you changed into clean sleep clothes, laid on a bed you could finally call your own and tried to fall asleep. You were exhausted but adrenaline was still coursing through your veins. You were safe, at least you hoped you were. You kept thinking about Joel, how aggravated he was. You understood people being wary of strangers but Tommy seemed to accept your presence. Maybe if he wasn’t so handsome and didn’t carry an air of such authority it wouldn’t have bothered you so much. Eventually you fell into a much needed sleep.

[ashandquiet]

My Most Unswerving Devotion

Chapter 4: The Duke's Ball

Regency! Soma Jarlskona x F!Reader

Summary: Since coming to Norfolk to stay with your family, the conversations have all revolved around matrimony. Just when your aunt has found a match for you much to your chagrin, quite by accident you fall for the wealthy Duke of Cambridgeshire; Soma Guthrumsdóttir. Can circumstance truly keep you apart?

A/N: Our heroine arrives at the home of the Duke and explores the splendorous halls of her manor.  I hope you all enjoy this update! I would love to know what you imagine your ballgown to look like, please visit my ask box and let me know there!

Read it on Ao3

You spent the next week buried in letters from Oswald, the rate of your correspondence had your aunt whispering about how you were surely in love, and how marriage couldn’t be far off. Yet that could not be further from the truth.

If she could’ve seen the true nature of your letters she would have been severely disappointed by the mention of Oswald’s other amour, Valdis, and that you were set to help him woo her and gain approval from her elder brothers; whose names you had come to learn were Brothir and Broder. They had fled from a gentleman in Denmark who was completely set on possessing Valdis even if that meant against her will. Due to these circumstances, the brothers were very apprehensive when it came to other alternate matches for their younger sister. 

So while you busied yourself with ways that Oswald could entreat himself upon Vadis’s brothers, your new friend had set about procuring all the names and likenesses that he could of the lady gentlemen about the countryside. 

In his most recent letter, Oswald assured you that at least three would be in attendance at the ball hosted by Soma Guthrumsdóttir. This list included the lady gentleman from the picnic, Birna Knudsen the daughter of some wealthy Scandinavian merchants, and the equerry to the Duke’s estate. Eivor Varinsdóttir, a friend of Oswald’s and apparently the Duke as well, was the orphaned child of a land-holding man in Norway who was adopted by another wealthy man. She and her brother had come to England to establish their own fortunes here.  And of course, there would be the fabled Duke of Cambridgeshire herself, Soma Guthrumsdóttir, as she was the host. Yet you doubted your chances of even meeting her.

While it was customary for the guests to introduce themselves at a normal ball, a masquerade was quite different. All you had to look for was the presence of women dressed as men with masquerade masks.

As you pondered the worn threads of the handkerchief while sitting at the old mahogany writing desk, you couldn’t help but feel a slight tinge of bitterness. 

Perhaps if you had been born wealthy or of better station you would have the luxury afforded to the women within the Duke’s inner circle. A life full of adventure and opportunity, and the freedom of financial choice. After all, it all came down to the money, it was not having it that put your future in jeopardy. Should your mother’s older brother have been more generous perhaps you wouldn’t have been forced into considering marriage as an economic proposition instead of one of amorous devotion. 

Perhaps all the books you have read have completely spoiled you, and true love didn't exist after all. 

You envied your new friend and his fortune in being a man, and his lady love for her vehemently protective older brothers blocking any idea of marriage.

You tried to shake the nasty feeling as you stood and paced about your room. Counting your blessings helped a bit to shirk the cruel sentiments away, you had made a friend, and he was willing to play at being your pretend suitor so that you could avoid matches at least till the end of the season. You had a mystery to unravel and a lady gentleman to chase, no matter how hopeless it seemed at times. And your uncle had just paid for a new dress to be constructed for you at the beginning of the summer, perhaps at the behest of your aunt and her insistence that your simple fashions would do little to win you the hand of a young man. 

But nonetheless, it had arrived from the dressmakers at just the right time. The elegant piece hung from the top of your boudoir now, with all its splendorous beading and embroidery. Its matching masquerade mask was fashioned with feathers and set upon a sculpted rod, with a loop for the wrist fashioned with a string of pearls. Truly the most opulent garment and accessories you had ever seen.

A pack of fortunate blessings indeed.

Regardless of the events to come at the ball, you resigned yourself to make the most of the evening.

ꕥ

On the evening of the ball, it was raining. 

You had stayed quiet while the maids helped you dress and affix your hair into a fashionable style with adjournments that complimented your dress in just the right way. They whispered and giggled about the joys of a ball and what a sensible event a masquerade could be for a burgeoning courtship. 

Apparently, all ears in the household were aware of the supposed romantic attachment between you and Mr. Egerton. You made a note to inform Oswald tonight that you would be limiting your letters to once a week before rumors could spiral completely out of hand. 

With your wrist freshly dressed with new bandages to cover the bruising and decorated with a pearl bracelet since gloves were out of the question due to limited mobility in your fingers, the maids stepped back to admire their handiwork and excused themselves back to other tasks.

“Are you alright miss?” One of the younger girls asked as the other two slipped out of the room with baskets of linens and your tray from afternoon tea.

You glanced over at her and offered a polite smile, “Yes, I’m alright, thank you.”

“If your wrist troubles you miss I could fetch some ice?”

“No it's quite alright thank you,” you hoped desperately you looked dismissive and that she’d leave. 

With a final nod, she collected her basket of things and shuffled out of the room leaving you alone with your thoughts at last. You rose from the vanity stool to stand by the large window of your bedroom. 

You rested your temple against the chilled glass watching as delicate droplets of summer rain hit the glass. Your thoughts were an incoherent mess, and your head was beginning to ache. Within a few hours, you would arrive at the home of the Duke of Cambridgeshire. 

There you would have to scour what you could of the faces of party guests all dressed in finery and hidden behind masquerade masks. All while at least appearing cordial to the young men in attendance. Perhaps, you could “lose” your dance card in the gardens, and then any attempt to secure a dance with you could be rebuked. For it would be positively impolite to promise dances to anyone if you couldn’t keep track of who had asked for dances.

Or you could “forget” to place them in your handbag altogether. Where would you positively have the space? You turned your attention to the handbag stuffing the handkerchief inside with a vail of peppermint smelling salts should you need them. You briskly made your way down the main staircase and into the foyer where your aunt and uncle waited for the carriage to be brought around front.

Ever the demure gentleman your uncle was dressed plainly in a simple suit, clutching his simple silk mask. Your aunt, however, was dressed extravagantly in a bright lilac brocade, a gauzy gossamer shawl wrapped around her shoulders, with her hair done up full of adornments. Her own masquerade mask much like your own was worn around her wrist on a bracelet, the gaudy thing looked heavy, all decorated with gold and feathers. 

She was so busy fussing over your uncle’s plain appearance, that when she finally caught sight of you she startled.

“Oh- my dear niece don’t you look just lovely! If you haven’t captured the heart of Mr. Egerton already you surely will tonight!��� She swept her arms in large motions, making a full circle around you.

“Didn’t the dressmakers do the most wonderful job, dear husband?” She asked your uncle, though you weren’t sure she really expected him to answer.

“You look lovely Miss (Y/N),” your uncle nodded politely to you and walked towards the doors at the sound of the carriage wheels crunching on the wet stone pathway. “Now come on ladies, we don’t want to be late for the masquerade.”

You followed his lead and stepped out into the late afternoon air, despite the rain it was mildly warm out, and the smell of petrichor permeated the air with an almost iron quality. A butler held an umbrella over your head as you made your way to the carriage door, carefully lifting the skirts of your ballgown so they weren't ruined by the water that pooled in the rocks. On the horizon, you could see stretches of pink through the light spots in the clouds as the sun set just beyond the cover of rain.

As you took your seat you released a long breath and gazed out the window. Oswald had agreed to find you once you arrived, ask for a dance to keep your aunt satiated, and then after you would slip away and begin your investigation. All you had to do was survive this carriage ride. 

The whole of the carriage ride from your uncle's estate to the home of the Duke your aunt tittered about the humidity inside the carriage, the length of the ride, and the abysmal subject of the perversion of a woman to think she can take the title of a man. While you couldn’t help but wish that the sound of the rain on the carriage roof was loud enough to drown out her idle prattle, your uncle repeatedly rebuked her attempts to stir contempt toward your host.

“If you cannot bring yourself to be civil towards our host, I will have this carriage turned around at once,” your uncle stated plainly as he fiddled with the silk of his masquerade mask for the umpteenth time. “She has kindly extended an invitation to us, I do not understand where you have gained such a predisposition to dislike the Duke, but if you must. Please save the rest of us the misery of hearing you commiserate about it.”

Your aunt sputtered clutching at her gloves, “M-my love, but haven’t you heard she- she lays with women.”

“Must you really recycle that old rumor? Are you afraid she’ll steal all the young ladies of the countryside away from you?” Your uncle gave her a pointed look that suggested she say no more on the subject. 

“What would it matter if she did?” You asked softly as you fiddled with the wrap around your injured wrist.

“What would it matter-” Your aunt’s statement was cut short by a knock on the roof by the carriage driver. 

The sudden disturbance caused all heads to turn towards the windows, there in the shimmering night, lay a magnificent manor house. 

Even in the rain, the front was lit up with tiny glittering fires that shone off the cream-colored stone. Two mirrored staircases led from the oblong drive to an elevated terrace decorated with the boisterous blooms of hollyhock and delicate primroses, a Grecian colonnade held up a balcony lined with wisteria. Meticulously groomed hedges protected red-blooming crepe myrtle trees that hung heavy with blooms framed the front of the elegant home.

Identical glass doors lay open sending the raucous sounds of music and partygoers across the drive and waterlily-filled fountain, wherein the center three bare-breasted Grecian maidens poured water from painstakingly carved amphoras down into the pool that traveled the length of the drive. 

“It's… breathtaking…,” you whispered moving ever closer to the window feeling as if you looked away from the dream before you it would disappear.

“It certainly is, the old Duke did have a flair for the dramatic,” your uncle affirmed as the carriage rolled to a stop between the two staircases.

“I doubt the naked maidens were his addition,” your aunt quipped as servants dressed in deep Aegean blue vests approached with umbrellas.

Your uncle turned towards her sharply, “If you must make comments perhaps we should return home. (Y/N), would you like to stay?”

For all her previous bluster your aunt fell silent as all eyes turned to you. Now it was your decision. Stay and look for the truth, or go.

Mustering your courage you smiled politely, “I can ask Mr. Egerton to bring me home in his carriage come the parties end.”

“Then it’s settled,” your uncle nodded to the servant who drew open the doors and you climbed out of the dark humid carriage and into the dewy night air.

“Be polite!” Was the last cry from the woman you left behind as you climbed the stone staircase and raised your masquerade mask to your eyes. 

Finally, your hunt for the lady gentleman would begin.

ꕥ

Oswald met you in the main foyer, his own mask lifted so you could see his face, the mask pushed upwards mussed his blonde curls.

“Miss (Y/N), you’re here! And unchaperoned?” His voice was chipper yet cautious as he looked around for your aunt and uncle curiously.

“Due to, unforeseen… prejudice, I am attending unaccompanied yes, perhaps, it would be alright if I were to join you in your carriage for the ride back to Norfolk at the end of the night?” You asked moving your own mask aside so you could speak better. 

“But of course! I couldn’t leave such a friend stranded,” he smiled and offered you his arm. “Come with me, I’ll supply you with a tour.”

The interior was just as splendorous with wide-open common spaces and glamorous furnishing. Once you looked up to see the visage of a goddess draped in gold painted upon the ceiling, her long golden hair spilling around her like the rays of the sun, her face tranquil and her hands outstretched. 

Seasonal florals draped window sills and the edges of stairs, with spiraling candles decorating open spaces, illuminating the guests in a warm golden hue. The smell of orange flower cordial mixed with that of fresh fruit and decadent cheeses on table tops. Waiters stood in doorways and common areas with trays of ratsfia and punch, others with water and ices.

As Oswald guided you around the wide sprawling rooms decorated with paintings and sculptures, opulent rugs, and elegant drapery you became acutely aware that you were amongst a different sort of company here. Something about the energy that radiated from the very walls and the people that filled the rooms oozed safety and community. 

While it was likely that societal rules still applied here, you pondered which rules exactly, surely not the same rules of the society your aunt clung to so vehemently. The ones where women wore dresses and men wore suits, where propriety was following the exact societal pressures to the letter. Women married men and had babies, and most certainly didn’t go about the countryside kissing other ladies. 

After Oswald had shown you around the quieter rooms with their art, the pair of you entered the main ballroom you were quickly overcome by all the sights, colors, and smells. 

A small ensemble of performers played jovial music from a raised platform in a far corner, filling the space with sound. Here people danced and laughed, chatted, and clapped along with the music. Everyone dressed in their finery faces obscured by masks of all kinds. 

The heat of the bodies all around you made you glad of the open doors along the exterior walls, they bid glances out to the manicured gardens and the cool stone columns that lined the veranda. 

You motioned for Oswald to halt and picked a place near enough to the doors that a gentle night breeze could cool your heated skin. He obliged and led you towards the nearest unoccupied high table. Thankful for the reprieve you placed your handbag down on the table. It was becoming difficult to hold up both your masquerade mask and the weight of the handbag with only one hand.

Now with the space between you and your companion, you felt free to let your eyes wander about the room. For a moment they lingered on a tall blonde woman dressed in blacks and blues and stayed there. You took account of her stylish men's suit, another lady gentleman. Her own mask was styled to look like a raven decorated with black feathers and silver detailing. The embroidery of her suit jacket was styled like that of the ancient Viking wood carvings and ravens. Oswald must’ve caught your glance because he leaned in so you could hear him over the din.

“My friend Eivor,” he said, and you recalled the name with a nod. “The woman wearing the cat mask with her is Valka, an old friend of her’s recently came from Norway.”

You nodded observing the pair, Valka was dressed elegantly yet almost simply in black, and her hair was wrapped in a black scarf making the natural ashen color of her mask stand out against the black silk. Soon a middling-height red-headed woman dressed in cobalt blue joined them from the dance that just concluded. 

Oswald tapped the table lightly, “I’ll be right back, what do you say to a capillaire? Or perhaps a rose water?”

“Just a rose water would be fine thank you,” You nodded and waved him off letting your eyes continue to scan the crowd. 

You spotted at least two other women dressed in gentlemen's clothes upon his departure and began to wonder if Oswald was really right about the country being filled with lady gentlemen. Maybe you operated in the completely wrong circles after all. Flushing you began to wonder how many ladies were in attendance that like you, held sapphic tendencies. 

How many people had fled the ball before even entering the otherworldly manor house at the sight of the bare-breasted maidens alone? Or was the mention of the Duke’s name and her reputation alone enough to scare people away.

You noticed a tall lady gentleman weaving through the crowd, her dark hair pulled back, her own masquerade mask the visage of a horse. She approached the blonde, Eivor, and her companions and began speaking to them in a bright and affable way. From the musical lilt of her voice, you recognized her from the picnic as Birna Knudsen, the equerry of the estate. 

That was two of the lady gentlemen Oswald had mentioned accounted for, you bit your knuckle as you glanced around the room curiously. Where would a Duke be in a place of such affluence and lush?

Oswald returned just as you had begun to admire the beautiful frescoes that adorned the ceilings. 

“One rose water for the lady,” He said as he passed you the fine coupe glass. 

“Thank you,” you took a sip and couldn’t help but sigh, the cool liquid helped to chill you. “I hadn’t realized how hot I was feeling.”

Oswald nodded as he sipped his own drink, “I hope you won’t find it an impertinence but I was thinking about joining the revelry…”

You shook your head quickly, “No please, go enjoy your evening.”

“Well, if you're so eager to be rid of me,” he teased but smiled. “Come and find me should you need anything (Y/N).”

With that, he was gone and you were left alone with your glass of rose water and a puzzle to unpick.

After a bit more time people-watching in the main ballroom, you picked up your handbag and decided to explore the open rooms of the manor at your own pace. In one room you found a pianoforte which was being played by a younger girl, who would surely have been very good if not for her singing. In another room, two men sat whispering and chuckling to themselves their hands clasped together affectionately. Neither seemed to notice or care about your presence or any other person in the room for that matter, one of the gentlemen leaned in close, cupping the other's face, and planted a sweet loving kiss upon his nose. 

You felt flush upon seeing such a private moment of affection and fled the room. Embarrassment fluttered in your chest as you ducked out onto a balcony, blushing you leaned up against a wall. You could not begin to comprehend how you felt, the moment of intimacy burned in your mind. The idea of being so open with the one you love, in such a public space as a ball, regardless of gender. 

You sighed and stepped away from the wall and walked along the edge of the overhang, letting the cool mist from the rain that bounced off the stone cool your flush skin. From your handbag, you pulled the handkerchief, its worn threads soothing your piqued nerves.

How strange, you found yourself thinking, that such a small thing could provide such comfort. You closed your eyes and sighed leaning up against one of the Grecian columns letting the soft plip-plop of raindrops on stone, cooled evening air, and the sweet perfume of evening primroses wash over you.

In your thoughts you were there again, the lady gentleman’s hands, gently caressing your injured wrist, her brassy voice tranquil and kind. You could still smell the grass, and feel the warmth of the afternoon sun, yet around the edges, the memory was beginning to fade.

The sound of footsteps brutally yanked you from the echo of your encounter. You stood up straight and turned to face the person who interrupted your reverie.

There stood a lady gentleman, her rich brown hair pulled back into a loose bun and some strands hung loose about her neck and chin, her face was uncovered by a mask allowing you to examine her strong features more thoroughly. She had a strong jaw and a quizzical brow, her stormy gray eyes caught the candlelight and shone like fresh foam on the sea. She was dressed elegantly in a black waistcoat lined with shimmering yellow silk, and her vest was embroidered with all manner of florals and the sign of a snake on the lapel. In her hand, she held your mask, you must've dropped it in your haste.

“Miss, I believe you dropped this,” She approached slowly, her honey-rich voice dripped with concern and something, like confusion. And yet you knew exactly who it was, in all your waking dreams you would know her voice.

She paused steps away from you, quickly examining your form. In the most tender voice, that almost cracked on every syllable, “Dove… is that you…?”

[moregraceful]

You know for a team I have not watched regularly since 2020, random facts about the Dallas Stars sure are lodged in my head like immovable truths of the universe. If I ever find a program that can help me create an interactive timeline in a way that makes sense in my brain I'm creating a timeline of Dallas Stars information from the Seguin trade -> now and it's over for you hoes* (*me specifically, I am the hoes). Like I, who am generally bad at dates and numbers, just have various Stars' players rookie seasons/fresh outta Cedar Park seasons just taking up space in my brain for no reason?? Why. This timeline would also include such important cultural moments in Dallas Stars as Roope Hintz's haircuts and Finnish mafia contracts, information which is also just. in my stupid brain doing jack. This timeline would serve zero purpose and enrich humanity not at all but at least this information would be OUT of my HEAD

Anyway I have not been talking abt it because a) don't want to give details when the overall arc of the plot is still tenuously coming together, b) had to do a bunch of research for some finicky mental-illness-in-WWII-veterans but I haven't been able to make myself go digging on SciHub/LibraryGenesis/Google Scholar to see if anything I learned from Band of Brothers/The Pacific postwar fanfic is grounded in reality. But in my current state as someone who cannot watch videos or TV without getting sick but also can't really leave the house for long periods of time, I finally started digging into the research I need to do for it. I'm writing a Dallas Stars WWII postwar au for Fandom Trumps Hate!

I'm very excited about it, especially as I start digging into the historical pieces I need to make it come together and things start to (slowly, so slowly) fall into place. I haven't written a historical au in uhhhhhhh a while and haven't ever written one that was really built around serious hurt/comfort. obvs do not want to just be shooting from the hip when it comes to mental illness, particularly in veterans, but I wanted to be challenged, and so here I am, digging through Google Scholar annotations lol. (There's also stuff I need to research on Canada in WWII, gay men in the 1940s/during WWII etc etc etc, bc it's been a while since I looked any of that up lmao...historians scare me so I am like I must not make TOO much shit up....)

BUT the reason I was thinking abt the internal timeline my brain carries about the Dallas Stars from the past 5 years despite the fact that I could be using that space for LITERALLY anything else, is bc my bidder requested a bunch of older players (which is great for me to be clear - if there's one thing I'm always gonna do, it's gaze lovingly at pictures of Stephen Johns) but said that if I wanted to add newer players feel free. So I tried to balance out Old Guys with some younger players who I love or am interested in learning more about. Gotta give those old men some youth to keep em humble yk. But I wanted to de-age everyone by about 5-6 years from their ages irl just like...given the timeline of the war, bc so many of the older guys are like well into their 30s rn and I didn't want anyone to be career military. BUT!! I was making my little list of birthdates and ages relative to each other and now I'm like. If I de-age Wyatt Johnston by 6 years. He will be 14. tf is a 14 year old doing hanging out with a bunch of men in their late 20s. This is not LiveJournal. Or like Miro Heiskanen and Jason Robertson who I also wanted to include bc I love them, will be 17. I liked the logistical challenge of having a couple of Finnish guys and American guys in this au that takes place in Canada but also, what is a 17 year old Filipino-American kid doing in Vancouver yk. also like girl help do I really want to dig into anti-miscegenation laws in California and Canada 😭😭 shit was not repealed in California until the late 40s. how far down the rabbit hole do I go with historical accuracy this fic is supposed to be about some gay asses finding relief from the Horrors in community, together

Anyway, all. ALL. of this information about the Stars is going to be in my head for the rest of my life. I am going to forget everything historical as soon as I hit post on AO3 but will be in my 60s knowing that Wyatt Johnston was born in 2003 or that my dad and Roope Hintz share a birthday (kings). Like god forbid I remember my own family or friends' birthdays but I will definitely find use for the information that Miro and Jason's birthdays are four days apart or that Miro and Joe Pavelski and Jamie Benn all have the same birthday. Who is driving the bus here and why is it a Dallas Stars historian with selective memory

[sk-lumen]

Hi Lumen,

Hope you are doing okay. I just wanted to share this here, I guess I needed to vent and write this down to show myself some sort of appreciation and to comfort myself in this choice so I thought I would share it since I saw other anons writing their progress down, hope you don’t mind. I have dropped that guy whom I was talking to since November, we tried to meet up multiple times but he always put the blame on me that we never could meet. We once tried to meet up and made plans to meet BUT the day before he went back to his hometown without any notice because he was not sure whether I still wanted to meet and didn’t even bother to make new plans. After this I decided to block him because it was literally the last drop. he made me feel confused all the time, I always felt so stressed and I remember you saying in one of your posts that a guy that makes you feel stressed and confused = not a man in his masculine energy and not meant for me. and also he tried to initiate physical and sexual conversations way to too fast which made me feel uncomfortable. I also think he love bombed me in the beginning.

i think reading your posts had helped me so much and I wanted to thank you for your posts. I really think you help a lot of young women with your advice 🌹

I know he was not worth my time and energy that’s why I cut things off with him but deep down I feel that guilt and “what ifs” but I know deep down I made the right choice and I can’t wait to elevate more in life.

Hi darling,

Thanks for sharing your journey and progress! I'm proud of you for cutting him off and moving on. Just from what you've mentioned there's already a list of red flags. I can confirm you did the right thing, but more important than that is you listening to your intuition, and honoring it! Realizing that you've known the answer all along. That's a brave thing and not easy to do especially in the beginning. And release the guilt darling. No healthy secure man that is for you will make you feel this way, or treat you like this in the beginning. All those red flags only multiply further in the relationship. You did right in moving on.

Also, posts like this make me happy to see how more and more ladies are awakening to their true worth and standing up for themselves 🥺 Moreso that my advice is helping someone out there 🤍

I like to think of my blog as an online diary dedicated to my younger self, sharing advice and experiences I wish others would have told me, so I didn't have to learn the hard way.

A lot of us girls didn't grow up with an older sister or aunt or female figure of some kind that initiates us into this experience of modern womanhood and how to honour ourselves and have better standards and boundaries. Or how to cultivate healthy friendships and sisterhood! Instead we're only programmed by society to view other women as competition and men as "the prize". To be people-pleasing and self-sacrificing to the point where we remove our "selves" from the equation of our lives altogether, centering everything around a man, family, pleasing our parents etc.

It's important to realize the #1 priority should always be yourself. You're the heroine of this story. The sooner you realize and live this truth, the sooner you can fully enjoy life, instead of being a secondary character in your own story.

Best wishes 🫶

-Lumen

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Day 1: Cross

I guess I’m doing FFXIV Write lol. This fic features Hami, Agi and Estinien’s eldest son, and Aymeric. SFW.

“You filthy little crossbreed!” The older elezen squire sneered at Hamignant Varlineau, who tried to do as his mother told him and not engage with, as she called them, “racist Ishgardian twats.” He stared ahead at the dummies lined up in a row on the other end of the training arena. Remember what Mummy said. Don’t acknowledge. Don’t engage. Do not remember what Bapa said. He said to “punch the little shits right in their fucking mouths.” Do NOT do that. A knight lives to serve and aid those in need. I’m not a knight yet, but I will be! “Didn’t you hear me, mongrel?”

Don’t engage. Hami continued to stare ahead.

CRACK! A fist collided with Hami’s jaw. He stumbled but did not fall. Okay, now I can punch them in their fucking mouths.

“I think his blood is even a different color! Look!” Another boy laughed. “When you have a hyur mother and a father tainted by dragon blood—”

Though still only twelve summers, Hami and his twin Marcelin were built like their mother Agnes---tall and broad. He punched the last boy who spoke in the mouth and then quickly shifted to elbow the older squire in the abdomen.

The older squire (Lord de Gregoir’s second son) recovered and unsheathed his sword. “You…you…”

Oh dear, I wasn’t expecting him to go for the sword. Hami stepped on his foot hard and spun to his backside, landing a blow on the small of his back. “Me.” He spat blood on the ground. “Hamignant Varlineau, son of the Azure Dragoon and the Warrior of Light. The saviors of Ishgard. You will show my parents respect.”

“ENOUGH!” An authoritative voice bellowed from the entrance to the training arena. A voice Hami knew very well. Uh oh. It’s—

“Lord Commander!” The Temple Knight in charge bowed. “This is quite the surprise!”

Aymeric de Borel, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Lord Speaker of the House of Lords, and Hami’s godfather, looked at the sight of the three young men. “What sort of training are you having our squires do, ser?”

The Temple Knight said not a word.

“Squire Varlineau attacked us!” The older squire whined, still struggling to get up. “He’s dangerous! He’s mad!” The younger boy nodded vigorously in agreement.

A knight lives to serve. To aid those in need. Mummy said don’t engage. Bapa said punch them in their fucking mouths. Hami shut his eyes and sighed. “I will not lie that Squire de Gregoir threw the first punch into my jaw, but I did punch the other squire after he insulted my parents. I accept any punishment you see fit, my lord.”

Aymeric’s eyes narrowed and then glanced at the other two. “Does Squire Varlineau speak the truth? Lying to your commander is a serious offense, need I remind both of you.” The younger one will break first. Little Lord de Gregoir absolutely will not. Hami was proven right a second later when the younger boy nodded. “Squire de Gregoir?”

Finally on his feet, de Gregoir stared intently at Hami, who only looked ahead at Aymeric. “Parts of it are true, yes—”

“I only require a yes or no answer, squire.” Oh shit, Uncle Aymeric looks like he’s going to shove Naegling down his throat.

“Y-yes, Lord Commander.” Get fucked, twat. Just like Mummy would say!

Aymeric turned to the Temple Knight. “See that their injuries are tended to and have them report directly to me for punishment. I will not tolerate this sort of behavior from our squires.” He looked at the three again. “Am I crystal clear?”

“Yes, Lord Commander!”

***

Later that evening, after cleaning chocobo stalls with the two squires, Hami sat on his bed, writing a letter to his parents to explain what happened. Better they hear it from me and not… He heard a few raps on his door. “Yes?”

“Is it alright if I come in, Hami?” Uncle Aymeric.

“Mhmmm. I’m just writing to Mummy and Bapa.”

Aymeric, now wearing a sweater and slacks with the slippers Mummy bought him for his last nameday, smiled warmly at Hami as he sat next to him. “Telling them about today?”

Hami could feel his cheeks burning. “Yes. I just wanted to—"

“I know what they said, Hami. Specifically what Squire de Gregoir said.” Oh no. “I spoke with them after you left and said that kind of talk is not allowed in the Temple Knights. If it happens again, they’re both gone. I pray that the Fury grants them some sense, but we shall see.”

“I-I can handle being called a crossbreed, a mongrel, whatever.” Hami said, looking down at the letter. “But I will not…I will not ever let anyone say that about Mummy and Bapa. Mummy didn’t even have to save Ishgard. She did it out of kindness. Bapa almost lost his mind and body to Nidhogg. They deserve to be treated with respect not…” His fists now balled, Hami shut his eyes and imagined himself back in Thavnair. Home. With them. Mummy’s smiling face and hugs. Bapa’s laugh and head pats. Mummy cooking us our favorite meals. Bapa telling stories. Mummy…Bapa… His eyes opened when Aymeric wrapped a long arm around Hami’s shoulders.

“They mean a lot to me too, and trust me, I wish I could have anyone who says a bad word against them taste my blade. However,” a wry smile appeared on his face. “that won’t solve a thing. And besides, they’re more worried about you than anything else. Especially your darling father.” Bapa? Worried about me? Why? I’m a squire! A damn good one! “Your father knows how cruel squires…and knights…can be.”

Hami sat quiet for a moment before speaking. “Were they cruel to him too?”

Aymeric nodded. “Aye. War orphans would get teased mercilessly for the cruelest of reasons. Though he pretended it didn’t bother him, I know it did. How many times did I hear ‘you should’ve died with your family’ or that Ferndale deserved to burn for its sins? Your father would boil over with rage.” Poor Bapa. I remember when he took us eldest five to Ferndale to see the ruins. He showed us where his family is buried, where his home was…he cried so much. “Might I offer a piece of advice before I leave you to your letter writing?”

“Of course!”

“When defending yourself, hit the bloody person who hit you, Hami. Goodness!” Aymeric laughed heartily, slapping his godson on the back. “You didn’t have to wallop that boy!”

Hami rolled his eyes and laughed a little. Ah, so he isn’t all that mad. That’s good. “I promise…though I hope there’s not a next time, Uncle Aymeric.”

Patting him on the head as he rose, Aymeric nodded. “So do I. Good night, Hami…and do tell your mother and father I say hello.”

“I will.” You write to them more than I do, Uncle Aymeric!

Soon after Aymeric shut the door to Hami’s room behind him, Hami went back to his letter.

Dear Mummy and Bapa…

[moonlight15sworld]

Log 1

Hi if you’re reading this it means that either you found it by random coincidence or you were meant to see this either way I’m glad you’re here today is the start of a series of logs that I am going to be writing these are real events that have happened to me put in the context of another person some of the events that I will be discussing are not The best in fact most of them are sad depressing and talk about explicit content such as suicidal intent and depression along the lines of many other mental illness if you are ok with this continue reading if not have a good day and I understand.

Today is Saturday, January 21 of 2023I am a Gen-z kid and currently I am 13 you can call me Alex though that is not my real name through this series I will explain of incident happened to me and things that I feel I am by no means trying to hurt anyone’s feelings or display worry to others the only goal or intention I have a best series is to spread awareness about the things that go on through my mind if you relate to this then I’m sorry if you don’t then good for you because for those of us that do it is killing us killing me

Dear diary my name is Alex and I am in eighth grade middle school student I go to a charter school it’s not the best And I strongly believe that if I had not have entered the school maybe then I wouldn’t be in my current situation as you may know today is Saturday, January 21, 2023 and I’m going to tell you about my life which is by no means happy. Currently my mental state is not the best I have many fears however the main ones that impede my learning and life are my fear of men my fear of doctors and needles and my fear of being alone for many years I have lived however for majority of my life I do not have any Memory never having it apparently losing memories of major chunks of your past your childhood could be a response to trauma your brain blocks every memory that has hurt you and the only way for you to get it back is to really want to my parents they do their best they are divorced I have a lovely stepmom and stepsister I love them it’s not like Cinderella however my mom has a boyfriend who lives with us over at my mom‘s house and he is by no means any man that should be in a house full of the female gender growing up my father is a punishment that is quite common household spanking no this is very common it is not change the fact that it was quite traumatic to me because I have grown up without most of my childhood because I had a group of it at an early age of eight or so I have always been overly mature in others eyes and due to the spanking that my father portrayed I was taught that if you lie you get spanked but if you tell the truth you will also get spanked so i Became the type of older sister that told on my little sister who never did anything wrong in my parents eyes the truth is I was I guess not loved as much as I wanted to be because I would lay in bed with my little sister and we would play with each other‘s hair as the other slept and that is the one memory that I really really enjoy when I was younger me and my little sister were friends house down the street from my mom‘s house she was playing a trailer for this one really scary movie in my eyes and it later that night when I was at my dad‘s I was too terrified to go to sleep in my bed so I did with any child would do I went out to the living room because at that time my father was in the taxis room a room right off of our dining room across the hall from my and my dad‘s bedroom me and my little sister laid on the couch and my father told us to go back to bed because we were only out there to stay up because he had a TV however even though he tried to tell him that we were out there because we were scared he threatened to spank us and make us go to bed early the next day if we did lay out there I can’t really remember if we did stay out there or not but I do remember the fear that I had in my head the fear of my father the man who I should look up to as a dad the man that I should love as my father and I was just scared and as a grown-up I don’t know if it’s thinking what is the exact reason or if it could’ve been something else but every time someone goes to hug me or pat my head or shake my shoulder or a loud sound heads out of nowhere or is someone claps too loud in front of me I Flinch and even though I’m 13 my father will randomly hit my thigh and sometimes it slaps my leg or my shoulder and I’m not the only one my stepsister who is also 13 also gets that too from him I don’t quite understand it and I don’t know if it’s just my dad’s do because I don’t want to see my father as a pervert I really really don’t wanna see him in that way because I see enough men in that way I’m terrified of men and I don’t want to be terrified of my father even though I’m scared of him I love him even though he’s broken me over and over and over again I still love him but I don’t forgive him I can’t forgive him

but he’s not the only one fault my mother she is like I guess different because she doesn’t have anything other than PTSD I don’t remember what it was from but I also don’t think that is a good reason for what she has made  me feel I had to be older and more mature even though I was 10 or younger because our family on my mom side is unreliable and they always came to my mom for help for advice and I learned from young age that my mom like everyone gets overwhelmed and no child should ever see their mom yelling at them or the dumbest dumbest mistakes no child should ever see their mom broken crying on the floor or in general because kids feed off of their parents energy and especially for me because I am one of those types of people who feed off of others energy so when someone is sad I feel sad when someone’s happy I’m happy when someone is angry I feel angry and sad and most of my feelings lead to sadness and my mom being raised as a Gen X grew up in a home that was strict and not exactly understanding of Gen z and I understand that our generation is pushing back the lines that they always follow they always follow blamelessly the rules during my grandpa‘s funeral my sister had to be taken out because she couldn’t contain herself with the overwhelming sadness my mom and her as well as other family members were crying my dad came to pick My sister up he wasn’t there cause they were divorced at the time I don’t quite remember if my stepmom was in the picture at that time or if she came in a little after at this point I don’t even matter when I met her my parents tell me I met her when I was nine but I don’t know maybe I lost my childhood before that maybe it is just a number that I came up with everything to scramble because the years passed by I can’t remember any of it during my grandpa‘s funeral my mom was hugging onto me crying a week previous to the funeral me and my little sister were taking to my grandma’s house on aware of what happened then a few days later we heard of our grandfather‘s passing I don’t believe I cried then I don’t believe I cried at all I don’t believe that I actually believed that he was gone we didn’t see him many times growing up only in family gatherings and I guess I blame myself his death was due to drugs and I guess somewhere deep down I thought that maybe if I had been more a part of his life he wouldn’t have died maybe he would still be here but I’m not a fool anymore there was nothing I could’ve done to stop and I was a child then but I’m not a child anymore when you get to middle school no one treats you as a child anymore but expects you to understand when they call you one hypocritical if you ask me but I have been talking about how everyone was during the funeral if you’re asking about how I was then I’m sorry to disappoint you when I tell you that I was numb I did not cry I did not smile or maybe I did smile abit I don’t quite remember that day but what I do remember is it walking up to the casket and hugging him it was weird because he was so pale then we drove to the burial site and we said our goodbyes and left few years later on the day of the dead that we were learning about in Spanish I planned to go see him but even though my mom promised me to take me she forgot she made other plans and couldn’t make the time take me she said we could go another day but the day of the dead but I’ve been over and I thought that they would’ve been no point because he wouldn’t be there his body would be there but his soul wouldn’t so years later in 2022 I asked her again and this time I went I wrote a letter I wrote a letter to him that I was supposed to give him for his birthday or for Christmas before he died and I never got a chance to because every time we were supposed to go something came up and we did it I had a gift of a light it’s a flashlight that I got from school and it had grandfather written on it I wrote him a happy birthday card and put it in your envelope because it’s favorite color I put it at his grave I hope that he can read it one da

I’m not much of a believer in God but every day after his death I sat by my bed and I read him a letter that I wrote to him he died over the summer so I had plenty of time to mourn before I went back to school the next year a week or so later during that same summer a week after we went to Texas to see my family on my dad side my great great grandma passed away right after we saw her she died from old age ask away in her sleep for some reason my entire life I thought that dying in your sleep is the best way to go but I saw how sad it was because when we were there she forgot like five seconds after we tell her who we were she couldn’t remember things that walk properly I don’t quite remember it because that’s just how it is with me but my dad was so sad it is really sad we didn’t go to her funeral because we didn’t know her that well my dad went he flew out to Texas because he knew her better and you’re way better I wrote a letter to her to every night before bed I would read that letter and I will pray that they can hear it they could know that I’m still thinking of them I didn’t cry before or during my grandfather Cena but I cried every single day after that single night for a long long time I guess we moved to my new house that my dad bought in Tampa to move in with his girlfriend or now wife my stepmom and my stepsister I lost my letters no idea where they went but at some point I guess I realized that I don’t need the letters every time I felt sad or anxious I would say that it’s because I miss grandpa but that wasn’t always true I just use it as an excuse and my parents wouldn’t worry because I don’t want them to worry about me they worry about my trouble selling younger sister any way so why should I make the worry about me that was a stupid way to think I know I still kind of think that way we can get more into my past in another log that’s it for today if you read it in for this please don’t hate it if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say it at all please and if you have any advice I’d love to hear it thanks for everything I’m out

[qyllenhaal]

American Pie

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: The Summer heat gets to everyone, including Sheriff Lee Bodecker who is looking to stir up with his favorite girl.

Warnings: 18+ only!!! DubCon (!!!), Dark themes, age gap (reader is early 20s), infidelity, alcohol abuse, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, spanking.

A/N: I didn’t expect to finish this in one night, but I did! I may have missed a few things to include in the warnings but I believe I got all the major ones. Enjoy!

Hot weather makes people feel more rowdy, like they can do anything just because the temperature is rising and the sun is out for longer. When the number of troublemakers at the bar goes up, so does the number of visits from the police.

Someone was always anonymously calling the police because someone at Tecumseh Lounge was stirring up some shit. They rarely came and when they did they did nothing. The deputy they dispatched would just write down a few things in a notepad and leave. No one ever truly got in trouble and that's because the Sheriff is rumored to be "in'' with the owner.

The rumors are true but the nice ladies and gentlemen from the nicer parts of the county will never see it for themselves. Tecumseh is rough, and nasty. There were more vices here than just alcohol, and most of it was done under the table.

Y/n was crazy to take this job as a bartender at Tecumseh. She didn't know that a hidden prospective for the job was fucking the patrons. One of the other girls working here did it, and so did Sandy despite her brother being the sheriff. Y/n was not interested in the advances pressed on her by the men. They were either married or been fucking "ladies of the night" for years and probably have something. No one who frequented a place like Tecumseh wasn't someone Y/n wanted to go home with. Yet she let Sandy's brother talk to her in any kind of way.

For someone who was the sheriff, Lee Bodecker was here a lot and it wasn't because the drinks were good. Sometimes his sister served him while he interrogated her about her husband Carl. Y/n had seen Carl a few times and she found him to be sleazy. Poor Sandy was stuck working behind the bar while Carl flirted with a younger girl just a few feet away from her. But Sandy would also take some patrons out to the back and get fucked when her shift ended. It seems like an even deal, but the difference is Carl looks happy doing it and Sandy always comes back looking a mess, and not in a good way.

Y/n has been applying for a waitressing job closer to her house. She wants out of this place yet whenever she says Tecumseh is her current place of work, her application gets thrown out. Her aunt got her the job and she wished to god that woman never did. She should've gone and worked at someone's farm doing hard labor instead of accepting the offer to work. She was talked to like she was a whore and there was nothing to do about it because her boss did the same thing.

Friday night shifts are the hardest for her. The men drink harder because they don't work weekends. The influence of alcohol made them relentless when talking to Y/n. They made what they believed were compliments about her body and proclaimed how they wanted to fuck her. She just had to press a smile because the more they found her fuckable the more they tipped her. The low-cut top she wore was not coincidental. While she didn't fuck patrons for 20 dollars, she did put out for their attention.

Not even 30 minutes before her shift and a fight breaks out. She has to call the police because the fight between two men turned into a fight of three, four, and then five. No one looked interested in breaking up the fight, just watching with glib smiles and jovial laughs. This was the kind of entertainment they came for, but it was a pain to deal with as a barmaid.

Police sirens and the lights made some patrons, including two of the people involved in the fight, went running out through another exit. Their fears were pointless since it was rare for anyone to get arrested here.

"Alright break it up," Deputy Brooks' voice boomed.

Whenever an officer was called to come down to Tecumseh Lounge, it was only three policemen who showed up: Deputy Brooks, Deputy McConnell, and the sheriff. They must've worked out some kind of deal with her boss because they come in, don't do shit about the reason they were called for, and they never failed to ask for a drink before leaving. Tonight is no different; they just break up the fight and tell the men to leave but they never force perpetrators to leave.

The fight dissipated a few minutes after the deputies showed up and the patrons grumbled because the fun was over. The two deputies looked around the place to give off the appearance of holding authority then they made their way over to the bar.

"One of your coldest beers," Deputy Brooks didn't greet Y/n nor was he polite. He just demanded what he wanted.

"No free drinks." She tries to keep her tone of voice strong. She is not afraid of these two men who only feel powerful because they have a badge on them. Deputy McConnell was only a few years older than her and she remembers when he was a scrawny kid who got picked on even as a senior in high school.

"We just broke up a fight at your fine establishment. The least you can do is give us a beer," Brooks rebuttal.

There was no arguing so Y/n sighed and went to grab two beers for the men so they could just get out of her sight.

"I need two beers. Not just one," McConnell interjected. Y/n didn't like how they drank on the job, especially since they were going to be driving so late at night.

But Y/n obliges just to get them out of her face. She hates the smug look on Deputy Brooks face as he grabs his beer and walks out with the other deputy behind him.

The rest of the night is Jenny's problem because Y/n was clocking out immediately. She smelled like cigarettes and just wanted to wash the layer of sweat off of her body. All the money her boss accrues from shady dealings, he was too cheap to install an air conditioner. People get angry and agitated when it's so hot out. Even at night the air feels sticky and falls just to the low 80s.

She headed out the back to avoid the incoming patrons. She is fair game to some people now that she is single.

Out back she can hear three unmistakable voices. Deputy Brooks and McConnell were standing by their car that was parked right next to the nice, clean sheriff's car. Y/n is not in the mood to deal with the two dickheads and their boss sheriff dickhead, but she knows they are going to say something to her as she walks back.

"Well if it isn't my pretty, pretty Cherry."

Lee Bodecker's voice punctuated the night air, making even the humid atmosphere feel cold.

Y/n stops in her tracks, knowing that she cannot avoid this without causing trouble for herself.

"Don't call me that."

"You sure like the name last week when I had my head between those thighs. 'Lee...oh Lee!" He imitated her voice which made his deputies laugh. Lee has a beer in his hand, reminding Y/n that McConnell asked for two back at the bar. She should've known it was for Lee.

She was embarrassed by him talking about their time together in front of his subordinates. Lee is married and Y/n is turned off by men with gold bands on their ring finger who try to take her home after her shift ends. However they have fucked on multiple occasions, making him the only patron she has given into. He was mean, but authoritative. Y/n couldn't help herself and she sometimes let the sheriff rough her up in the back of his car.

"I'm only messing with you sweetheart. You don't gotta stand there lookin like you saw a ghost."

Y/n feels humiliated but Lee doesn't seem to care. Lee gets off on seeing her squirm, on seeing her be degraded. She's not a whore like the other woman who works here and his sister, but he fucks her like she is. He has something many of the men inside the dingy joint wanted. Y/n isn't easy, which rare for a female Tecumseh worker.

"I'm just wonderin if you seen my Sandy," he made an attempt to change the subject.

"She's your sister Lee."

The truth is Y/n hasn't seen Sandy in a week. She said something about her and Carl taking a trip but she didn't say for how long. Y/n is not too fond of Sandy to pry into her life. She feels bad for her though. She always comes into work with dingy hair and not to mention the amount of weight she has lost which makes her face look gaunt.

"You better address me as ‘sheriff’ girl. You have no manners. You weren't even going to say hello to the men who keep you safe."

Lee did nothing to make her feel safe. He made Y/n feel on edge when he was around but downright euphoric when she was in the throes of passing in the back of his car. He was just using her to get his rocks off and he only went after her because he wanted someone "fresh" for him. He doesn't respect her or care for her.

"Shouldn't you three be patrolling? Looking for crime?"

"Don't catch an attitude, Y/n. It's none of your business what we do. Besides, all the crime is in that building you just came out of."

"You guys never do shit. All you do sheriff is come and collect money from Leroy-"

"Watch your fucking mouth."

Y/n is not sure why she's still here trying to bump heads with him. She will never win, especially when he is the authority around here. No one challenged Lee because they were scared to death of him. He's a shady sheriff but he's feared.

"I'm leaving," Y/n sighed. She tried to walk away but Lee stood up from leaning on his car and grabbed her arm

"Uh-uh," he shook his head at her as the grip on her arm tightened. She looked up at him with fear in her arms and he felt his cock getting hard "You don't get to leave until I tell you too. I think you owe me for last week anyway, cherry."

"Please...just let me go," she tried to plead. She tried to plea to the man who she's been fucking, hoping that his attachment to her would make him be kinder to her.

"You need your ass to be put in place. I thought I did that a few weeks ago when I spanked your ass until you cried, but you're still as defiant as ever. You'll never fucking learn."

Lee dragged her back to his car and bent her over the hood. He placed her arms behind her back and cuffed her. He wasn't going to arrest her but making her believe he was sure was fun to him.

She can see both of the deputies watching her. Her face was planted against the top of his car as he held her down. Lee pulls her dress over her ass and she feels so exposed.

"Those panties look damp to me. What do y'all think?"

Y/n hears the deputies chattering lowly amongst themselves, probably afraid to say something obscene about the woman the sheriff is hooking up with.

"How many men seen you like this before? Who you let fuck you today?"

"No one sheriff."

"That's right. That pussy is mine."

His rough hand caresses her ass. He wants to spank her for talking back to him in front of the two younger officers. She was trying to embarrass him which called for a punishment.

"You better count 'em or I'll start over."

Y/n just groaned in anticipation of the first blow to her ass. She hates how Lee takes his time and she wishes he would just get it over with. Her heart is racing as Lee gets a firm grip on her hair.

"Bad little girls get their asses spanked. Don't think just because you're not peddling your cunt that you're not a whore," he threatened with anger.

Her panties were ripped off with rage and she was truly exposed. The warm, summer breeze ghosted across her cunt but it made her shiver. She can already feel the heaviness of her hand on her ass before it even comes down. The first smack was so loud that it pierced the dark night's air. Her cry was even louder.

"One," she says breathlessly. Her eyes close so she doesn't have to look at the two men staring at her with wide eyes and tents in their pants.

Lee believes pain is the best discipline for a girl like Y/n. He would never do this to his wife, but he also doesn't fuck his wife like he fucks Y/n. She was a tough thing to crack but she rides him into the night until his car is shaking and he's cumming into a condom.

"You can count louder than that, cherry."

He was mocking her only because they had an audience. The belittling and having her body exposed was humiliating. But that first slap of her ass sent all the blood in her body rushing to pussy.

Lee smacked her ass again and again and each time she pathetically sobbed out the number of hits her ass has received so far. Her skin felt hot and it wasn't because of the temperature. She wanted to cry so bad but she kept it. She has never cried in front of Lee and she isn't going to start now; no matter how painful his brutality is.

"Look how fucking wet she is from getting her ass whooped."

Y/n heard the shuffling of the deputies and there was not doubt they were looking at her glistening sex. She felt like she was dripping and she wanted to press her thighs together so bad to hide herself. That would only make things worse for her and the last thing she needs is a harsher punishment.

"Learned your lesson, cherry?"

She nods, her eyes still closed.

"Good girl."

The sound of Lee's belt coming undone makes her stick her ass higher into the air. She's been trained like a dog who wants a treat to behave this way. A sense of shame consumes her as she acts so shamelessly.

"My good little bitch," he coos. He pulls himself out and lines up the head with her wet slit. "I don't have a condom on me sweetheart. I finally get to feel that pussy of yours."

He was lying. He always kept a pack of condoms in the glove compartment of his patrol car because he couldn't bring them into his home. Plus having them in there would always leave him ready to fuck Y/n. He did not like the feeling of condoms but he can't knock her up when next year is an election year. Having a bastard child with a barmaid from Tecumseh would fuck everything up and send his efforts down the drain.

"Lee no! You have to use a condom."

"I don't have to do anything."

She's stupid to think he would listen to her. She is completely powerless and can only operate to his whims.

"Then please pull out...please," she whispers in defeat. The laugh he lets out tells her that she doesn't get a say in this at all.

Lee pushes on her back with one hand and the other is holding onto her hip. He finally sinks into her and he is in paradise.

"You expect me to pull out when your cunt is this warm and tight? No fucking chance darlin'"

He starts to fuck into her, each thrust earning him a pathetic moan. She feels so good wrapped around him and he vows to never wear condoms with her again. She's the tightest thing he's had in years and he has to go slowly to brace himself or else he is gonna cum. This position gave him so much access to her cunt and he pushed in as deep as he could. His bare head was kissing her cervix over and over again. His thighs slapped against her bare ass and the noise reverberated into the night.

The deputies just stood there; eyes wide with shock but lust filling their veins. They never took Lee as a cheater yet he fucked Y/n he knew her body so well.

Tears slip down her face, but they aren't from sadness or anger. She's overwhelmed by the pleasure Lee is giving her that she can almost forget that they have an audience.

Lee lifted her head off of the hood of the car. She could see them in the reflection. She looked a mess while Lee looked like he was in heaven in her bare cunt.

"You wanna tell them how you never had a man in your ass until I fucked you? Begged for it like a whore?"

His voice has some much grit in it and Y/n wondered where this new fire in him came from. Lee was rough with her but never has he pounded into her like she was just a toy. Most would be surprised to know that Lee can be a gentle lover that had a primal urge to be inside of Y/n. She wondered if he was like that with his wife, but according to him she was just a "wet blanket." Y/n does not know whether or not to believe him because it's not uncommon for men to disparage their wives to women they're having sex with on the side.

"Gonna cum Lee," she cried.

He felt her tighten around him and he was about to cum too. He was going to cum inside of her.

"Show 'em how you cum for me. Let 'em see that pretty face of yours."

Lee pounded into her until she was crying out. Her orgasm wrecked her body and the only thing on her mind was Lee and his cock. If she was asked to speak right now it would just be babble. He fucked her stupid and he's not going to stop until he spills inside of her.

A few more hard, rough thrusts and Y/n feels Lee spill inside of her. She sighs at the blissful sensation. His grip on her loosens, a symptom of the exhaustion that starts to set in. His cock begins to soften inside of her but the two of them are still panting from what they just did.

"Go on. Go home," he slaps her ass one last time just to tease her. His eyes are trained on the sight of his cum oozing out of her and he never wants to look at anything else. But he has a shift to get back to

Y/n reluctantly stands up, her dress falling over her ass to cover her up. She can feel his cum running down her thigh but she's too embarrassed to clean herself up in front of these mean. She accidentally catches Deputy McConnell's eyes before she scurries off to her car. She hears a laugh and then a few more joining in. She's sure Lee is bragging to them about her always being willing to fuck him. She just hopes he doesn't tell them everything they have done together.

-

Lee had been silent for more than a week now. No calls, no visits to the bar, and even his patrol car hadn't ridden down her street. Y/n felt insecure about his absence; like he thought she was an easy slut like the rest of the barmaids. He knows she isn't willing to fuck anybody, but she was not sure if he believed her when she said it.

The days moved so slowly as she watched the door hoping he would come in one late night. She even hoped for a fight but suddenly no one had the energy anymore for a melee.

Y/n was working a late shift tonight. She'd cover the bar from 12 until last call. It was her day off but she had to fill in for some girl at the last minute. If it had been the weekend she would've said no, but it's a Tuesday night which means it would be an easy night of minimal work.

Y/n was wiping down glasses not five minutes after she clocked in and she heard the shrill voice of her co-worker Sydney.

"I'm not dealing with him. Last time I tried to cut him off he threatened to arrest me! I don't know where Sandy is but she needs to be the one here to deal with her brother."

Y/n's ears perked up. She didn't notice Lee in the room when she walked in. The room was dim and it was not always easy to make out customers, especially if they were far away.

"What's going on?"

Y/n walked over to where Cindy's voice was coming from and she was talking to their boss Leroy.

"Sheriff is drunk off his ass and I'm supposed to deal with him. My shift ended five minutes ago and once I'm off the clock then anything that happens in this place is none of my concern!" She said with contempt.

"You work for me. You don't get to decide what you will and will not do at my bar!"

As much as Y/n wanted to avoid a tiff between her co-worker and boss, she wanted to talk to Lee even more.

"I'll take care of it."

Leroy didn't care either way. As long as he didn't have to deal with Lee who was pissed off at him about something. Lee often complained that her boss was a "useless fucker." Leroy walked away from the two and Cindy gave Y/n a small smile.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem. I'll see you tomorrow Cindy," Y/n called to the blonde who was already peeling out of the place. She doesn't think Cindy likes her all that much but she was at least courteous to Y/n.

The bar was dead enough for Y/n's other co-worker to cover while she went to deal with Lee.

He was at a table in one of the corners of the bar; slumped over in his chair and too intoxicated to speak in complete sentences. There was no way he could properly function or drive home. She had a choice to make whether to leave Lee like this or take him home. She had just gotten to work, but the night was nothing that her co-worker couldn't handle. If Leroy threw a fit and tried to fire her she could just get Lee to threaten him.

He was so heavy as he leaned on her to walk to her car. Y/n loathes this man yet she does so many caring things for him that it makes her stomach hurt. She gets nothing out of this exchange yet she continues to go back with him.

She placed him in the passenger seat of her car and he just mumbled to himself the entire ride to her apartment. She was thankful to be on the first floor because it would be a hazard to try to get Lee to walk up some stairs like this. She helped him sit on her raggedy couch. He looked like he was going to vomit.

"How many drinks did you have?" She began her interrogation on him, but she doubts she will get a coherent answer tonight.

"Just one."

As he spoke he reached into his pocket to show her the "one" bottle that he drank from tonight. A few candy wrappers fell out of his pocket when he pulled the bottle out. They were jolly ranchers wrappers which was the kind she bought to share with him.

"What happened? Why did you get so fucked up? I need to get you home Lee."

Y/n was in panic mode. There was no way she could take Lee home but she didn't know how to deal with him like this. He had been tipsy around her before, sure, but she has never seen him this drunk.

"No, no...don't wanna go back. Just let me sleep it off," he slurred. He haphazardly kicked his shoes off and pulled his jacket off so he could get comfortable on her couch. He's going to wake up with a sore back if he sleeps on that thing.

"You can't get drunk like this ever again. And you also can't stay the night here ever again. Your wife is going to find out one day

He just groaned and turned away from her on the couch. She just sighed in defeat. She will deal with him in the morning.

-

She feels the bed around 3 am. She could not sleep after leaving Lee in a state like that on her couch and she has been up ever since. Y/n was so tired but her body was not agreeing with sleep at the moment. Heavy arms wrapped around her as she held her breath.

"You smell so good, Florence. Just like roses."

"Lee, it's me." She waited for him to respond, afraid that he would get upset or angry with her for no good reason. Her ego was a little hurt after he mistook her for his wife.

"I'm just jokin' with you cherry." Even though he was suffering from a hangover, he still has the capacity to tease her.

Y/n turned around to face him but he had his eyes closed and a pleased smile on his face. She can't deny how handsome he looks, especially with his full cheeks.

"Why did you get that drunk last night?"

"I'm a grown man."

"You weren't acting like it last night. You were like a defiant child," her voice began to rise in volume and Lee winced.

"Don't yell, please. You can be mad at me all you want but please don't yell. I've got a headache that's going to last for days."

"It's what you deserve."

Lee finally opened his eyes just so he could see that pouty look on her face. Y/n called him a defiant child, but she was one to talk. She was always acting like a brat around him.

"You don't mean that girl. If you did, you would've left me at Tecumseh. You care about me."

"Lee-"

"Just admit it. You care."

"Lee, you are married."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

This was the uncomfortable conversation Y/n wanted to have. It was always shot down by Lee. He had no problem fucking her, but talking about where they stand or his cheating was always a problem.

"Cherry, I wish you'd just let things be as they are. Wish you would always be a good girl like you are in the back of my cruiser."

"I don't want to be your mistress Lee. If we keep doing this then we're going to get caught and your wife will leave you. Then what?"

"I'll move you in and put a ringer on your finger. Maybe give you a few kids too," he chuckled.

Y/n couldn't bring herself to find joy in his comments. She has some underlying feelings for him and he's right, she does care. But her conscience can't stop thinking about the fact that he has a wife. The only time she forgets is when his dick is inside of her.

"I'm a whore, remember?"

"Just because I fucked you like one in front of my deputies doesn't mean you are one," his hand rested on her hot cheek and he stroked it with his thumb, "you're my cherry girl. The only person I love being inside of. You act like you hate me but you're always wet for me; I bet you're wet right now. I love what we have and I don't want it to end."

She has no more to say to him. She just sighs and closes her eyes. Lee can practically see the wheels turning in her head. While he saw this as a very simple situation, she viewed it as more complex and always seemed to look for ways to make it complicated for the two to just enjoy it for what it is. Y/n is young and Lee is sure she is not ready to settle down yet. They're just having some fun. And if they do in fact get caught and his wife leaves him, then his cherry would make one hell of a wife.

[racheloveyunho]

Till Death do us part - 1

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 2486

 TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

Chapter 1

 I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.

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 5 years ago.

 "Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.

I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.

"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.

“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.

“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.

I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.

“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.

“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.

 He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.

But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.

My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.

He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.

 “Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.

“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.

“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”

 Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.

Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.

 I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.

My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.

I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.

 8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.

 “Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.

I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.

It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.

A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.

 I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.

“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.

I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.

I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.

“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.

 I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.

The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.

They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.

“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.

He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.

I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.

When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.

I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.

 I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath.  I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.

“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.

I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.

How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?

“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.

I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.

“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.

“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”

He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.

My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.

“You’re welcome”

I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.

He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.

“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.

He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.

‘But he is really handsome…’  I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.

“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.

His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”

I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.

“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.

‘What the fuck?’

“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.

He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.

  I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.

I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.

“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

---------

---------

This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!

This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.

Thank you for reading!

[true-blue-megamind]

FAN THEORY SUPPOSITION SUNDAY: The Warden

SPOILER WARNING!  It’s still a thing, and, if you haven’t yet, you still need to watch Megamind.  (If you have seen it already, however, you need to see it again.  Because it’s awesome.)

Yes, yes, the post is three days late this time.  Real life has to take priority and such. So sue me.  (Don’t really do that.  LOL!)

For that same reason—or more accurately because this week has exhausted me—I will attempt to make this post shorter than usual.  We’ll see how that goes.  My money is on “not well.”  LOL.

Anyway, today we’re going to look at a subject that often divides the Megamind fandom: the Warden and his relationship with Megamind. There are several fan theories—I mean, suppositions—surrounding this, but I’m going to be focusing on a few of the main ones.

The first of these is that the Warden was actually a father figure to Megamind when he was young, allowing him to be raised in jail not out of cruelty or disinterest, but because it was the only way to keep him safe from shadowy government agencies that otherwise would have performed all sorts of experiments on the blue alien.  This both accounts for why a child would be allowed to grow up in what is clearly a high-security prison for dangerous adult criminals—something that, admittedly, needs some sort of explanation—and fits with widely accepted sci-fi and comic book tropes. (From Area 51 to mysterious “Men in Black” type organizations, fiction is full of government agencies created to study extraterrestrial life and technology.)  Some even go so far as to suggest that the Warden may have tried to adopt Megamind officially, but was blocked from doing so by these same entities. On top of this, such an idea also offers room to re-imagine the Warden as a much more interesting, complex, and sympathetic character.  Indeed, there has been some excellent fan fiction written about this pseudo-parental relationship.

Art: Fathers And Sons Day by tabbydragon

There is some evidence to support this.  The first is that, although the Warden behaves harshly toward Megamind in the “jail-break” scene near the beginning of the film, Megamind himself seems to be trying to engage in a playful exchange: pranking the older man, wishing him a good morning, and even teasing him.  While some say that this is simply Megamind’s personality as well as his determination to always appear indominable, others suggest that, perhaps, the blue man is trying to recapture a lost amiability between himself and the prison Warden.  It is possible that, when he was younger and less villainous, Megamind might have exchanged friendly jokes and greetings with the man in charge of the jail he called home.  It has even been suggested that the Warden is so hard on the blue man at the beginning of the film not because he hates Megamind, but because Megamind’s life choices have hurt and alienated his father figure. This idea finds some support in the facts that, when Megamind leaves jail to confront Titan, the Warden wished him good luck, and at the end of the movie, that same man seems genuinely happy as he watches the television broadcast of his one-time prisoner being named Defender of Metro City.  Finally, there is some evidence from the comics which, although not truly considered canon, as I’ve mentioned before, do offer some material for fan theories.  In the “episode” entitled Bad Minion! Bad! Megamind runs into the Warden in a bar, and the latter offers the former advice.  There is certainly a somewhat fatherly feel to the scene.

The second theory is exactly the opposite: that the Warden either did not care for or outright disliked the former supervillain.  Unfortunately, as fun as the Warden/Father Figure concept is, this second, darker idea has far stronger evidence to support it in the film itself.  (Try not to hate me, everyone.)  These clues range from the obvious to the subtle, but there are quite a few of them to be found.

During the first scene in which we see Warden interact with Megamind, he doesn’t behave like an angry, disappointed father—at least not a good one.  He isn’t merely surly toward Megamind; he is absolutely nasty. The Warden verbally condemns the alien, telling him that he’ll “always be a villain,” and essentially steals what he believes is a gift for the blue man, even taunting him by saying: “I think I’ll keep it!”  This hardly seems like the actions of someone who once felt any sort of affection for the extraterrestrial.  That same portion of the movie holds another clue as well: the screens monitoring Megamind’s brain activity.  Indeed, in original concept art for the film, the system appears both more invasive and more nightmarish.  It seems that, far from protecting Megamind, the Warden may have actually allowed him to be experimented upon.

Next, there is the newspaper article at the beginning of the title sequence, which bears the headline “Hometown Boy Makes Bad.” It’s hard to see what the paper says, of course, even if you bother to really notice it, but luckily for us Liz (Demishock) wrote a wonderfully thorough blog post which, among other things, provides a transcript of the “news story.”  In it, the Warden is quoted as referring to young Megamind as a born villain as well as abnormal.  

You don't know this kid. I've watched the little criminal since he was in diapers. This kid is just a bad seed. I've got experienced, hardened criminals in here who are afraid of him - I mean, have you seen the size of his head?…  It's not like he's a normal kid… I mean, have you gotten a good look at his gigantic blue head? I don't know where you come from, but where I come it's just not right.

Granted, there seems to be some truth to what the Warden is saying, as the article also mentions that Megamind, who can hardly have been more than seven years old at the time, has basically been put into solitary confinement for the safety of other prisoners following an unnamed incident, adding that the other inmates “refused to point fingers for fear of retaliation.”  (This fits with the fan theory that young Megamind would have had to both fight and develop a fearsome reputation in order to protect himself. You can read more about that in the post How Strong is Megamind?) However, the Warden seems to dwell a lot on the fact that Megamind looks alien, and he displays an obvious dislike for the young boy.

Finally, there is evidence hidden in the school scene, although it’s easy to miss. In an amazing two-part video series, Megamind: A City of Deception. YouTuber The Theorizer illustrates several hidden clues about Megamind’s early life and how it it led him to embrace villainy.  (I will very likely write another post going into more detail about that at a later date.)  One thing that The Theorizer discovered is a seemingly innocuous detail in the background during the popcorn scene.  Take a moment to examine the images below.  Look closely at the blackboard and you’ll see a paper cut out of a school bus.  Look even more closely at that and you’ll find something odd: the bus is full of crayon-drawn children except for one figure: an adult male, riding in the back of the bus, who looks suspiciously like the Warden as he appears at the beginning of the film. 

In a movie where so much attention is given to small things—I mean, seriously, the animation team actually went through the trouble to write a news story for a paper that was on the screen less than ten seconds—this cannot possibly be a coincidence.  (You can learn more about the artists’ amazing dedication to detail in my post What’s Hidden in the Animation?)  Although it is vaguely possible that Megamind, painfully aware of how much his appearance was despised, chose to draw the Warden’s face instead of his own, most fans believe there is a darker reason for this oddity.  

Think about it: the Li’l Gifted School for Li’l Gifted Kids is built close by a jail with a strangely similar name: Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted.   It’s clearly a small academy, yet the only two known aliens in the city—who, by the way, have extremely different social backgrounds—both just happen to attend there.  And now the prison warden appears to be somehow involved with the elementary school?  It’s bizarre.  Add to this the fact that the young alien adopted by a privileged family—a boy who possessed super-strength and laser vision—seemed inclined to be a bully, (as is made obvious by the kickball scene,) and a disturbing fan theory emerges.  Adults realized that Wayne Smith, the child who would eventually become Metro Man, might prove dangerous if left unchecked, and came up with a plan to turn him into a hero instead.  Wayne was showered with praise, conditioning him to seek public approval, but a superhero needs a nemesis.  The strange-looking, unwanted blue boy who’d already been labeled a criminal would have seemed like the obvious choice.  If this is true, then Megamind was purposefully, albeit covertly, groomed to become a supervillain from a young age, and the Warden played a major role in doing that.

So there you have it.  Two competing fan theories concerning the Warden’s connection with Megamind.  Both have some evidence supporting them, and there are fans who are firmly dedicated to one or the other.  Which is true?  Did the Warden care for Megamind like a son but distance himself when the boy turned to villainy?  Or did he judge and despise Megamind but come around to liking him when he finally realized what sort of person the blue man was deep down?  The fact is that those questions can be argued for hours on end.  No matter which of these suppositions you prefer, however, the mere fact that even a minor supporting character is complex enough to offer room for this debate speaks to the impressive amount of work and devotion that went into creating this amazing animated film.

[band--psycho]

Chibs x Reader-Jealousy

Prompt 4 for Anon- What I do know is that you need to get through your head, that I am a grown woman and that I am not a damsel in distress that needs protecting // With Chibs Telford (Prompt in bold)

1.3k Writing Celebration Masterlist / Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist

(Credit to the gif owner)

I had been looking forward to this night for months now. It was the annual Sons of Anarchy reunion, which only meant one thing. New men were on the scene and I couldn’t be happier about that. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved the guys in the Charming charter and a few of them were quite good looking, especially Chibs. I’d always had a little crush on scotsman, not that he knew it of course, so we were just good friends and I was happy with that. Bur right now, I was furious with him. I couldn’t believe what he’d just done. I was quite happily flirting with one of the good looking guys from the other charter, he was a little bit older than me and quite easy on the eye, we were getting on great...and then Chibs decided to walk over to the guy and basically threaten him. He didn’t raise his voice when he told the guy to leave me alone, but the anger that was raging in his eyes was clear to see. I was so angry at him, but I knew better than to make a huge scene infront of the club, so I just grabbed him by his arm and led him outside, everyone else was busy enjoying the party so I knew we wouldn’t be missed too much.

As soon as we were outside I let go of his arm and closed the door quickly behind me before asking “What the hell was that?”  I could tell Chibs’ was surprised by the harsh tone in my voice. It was rare I ever raised my voice at anyone, let alone Chibs but this was different. 

“I don’t know what ye’re so mad about, I was only trying to look out for ye,” Chibs said, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as he ran his gloved hand through this hair, before continuing to say “You don’t even know him….anything could’ve happened.” The confusion in his eyes quickly changing into worry.  I understood where he was coming from but at the same time, I was an adult...and I was allowed to make my own choices. 

“I appreciate the concern but-” I began only to be cut off by Chibs’ voice.

“He could’ve done anything to ye…” His words trailed off towards the end as he shook his head slightly, probably thinking of the worst possible outcome. I knew why he was protective of me, we’d been friends for so long he was bound to be, maybe I should've expected this outcome, I just thought it wouldn't bother him like this.

“It’s a party Chibs, how many one night stands have you had again?” I said with a little chuckle in my voice attempting to diffuse the tension and calm myself down slightly but he just scoffed at my response, shaking his head once again. 

“That’s not the point and ye know it lass,” He snapped, the venom in his voice almost as harsh as the look in his eyes and I don’t know why, but that look and the tone of his voice made something inside me snap. Making the anger that I originally felt only grow. 

“I don’t know what would’ve happened,” I began, walking closer to him, so I could look him directly in the eyes as I said the following words, “But what I do know is that you need to get through your head, that I am a grown woman and that I am not a damsel in distress that needs protecting, I can handle myself.” Granted, everyone in the club was protective of me and I understood why, but I was done. I was done not being treated like an adult just because I was younger than all of them. It didn't give the right to treat like a child. 

“I know ye can handle yerself, lass, I don’t doubt that,” his words caught me off guard slightly, I wasn’t expecting him to say that but it just left me confused as to why he made such a big deal about me talking to a guy. 

“Then what the fuck is your problem Chibs?” I sighed, running a hand my hair in frustration. 

“That it wasn’t me!” He practically growled, clenching his hands into fists. The low tone of his voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge as my mind tried to work out what he’d just said.  

“What?” 

“It doesn’t matter, forget I said ‘anythin’,” He said, making his way past me, brushing off the admission he’d just made like it was nothing. But it wasn't nothing. That comment wasn’t something that I could forget about.

“Chibs-” I started, quickly turning around and grabbing his arm, pulling lightly on his jacket forcing him to turn round and face me “Chibs, talk to me,” I pleaded, desperately wanting an explanation to what he’d just said. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life wondering what he meant. That’s not a game I wanted to play...I wanted to know the truth. My eyes were locked onto his, but his were just fixed on the ground. 

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Chibs let out a small sigh,his eyes locking onto mine as he breathed the words“I like ye lass and I hated the fact that you were flirting with someone…” the words of his admission made my heart swell and my head spin

“You were...you were jealous?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper but as soon I said those words, Chibs closed his eyes, sighing again. 

“Aye, just forget I said anything, lass, I know you don’t feel the same,” As he said those words he pulled his arm out of my grip. I didn’t know what to say….but I knew I needed to say something and before I could stop it the words “What if I do…” flowed out of my mouth, my voice was quiet but loud enough to catch Chibs’ attention. 

“Lass-” He began facing away from me almost as though he was frozen on the spot.

“Chibs, I like you, I have done for a while..” I continued, moving infront of him slowly, raising my hand to his face, caressing his cheek lightly, the prickly feeling of his stubble tickling the palm of my hand slightly. 

“Why didn’t ye ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” I challenged back, with a small smile gracing my lips. 

“Because I’m old enough to be ye Da..and...I thought...I thought you liked me as a friend and that was it,”

“Well,” I began, closing the distance between us as I quickly pressed my lips to his in a gentle kiss, “It’s a good thing I like older guys then isn’t it?” I smirked against his lips, a small chuckle falling from them as I did so. A few seconds passed and this time it was Chibs that closed the distance between us, kissing me more passionately than anyone ever had done, as we were kissing his hands made their way down to my waist, pulling me closer than I ever thought possible. My head was spinning in pure bliss, completely overwhelmed by what was happening but happier than I ever had been.

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[djarinbarnes]

me olvidarás - one

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Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Warnings for the chapter: vivid sex dream, masturbation... faceless javi. I apologize. I just want to get to the good stuff! :D 

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: first of all, I'd like to thank @demoneyesanddamagedsouls​ for being there for me through the whole writing process of this story so far. With her on the side, constantly hyping me up and giving me feedback, I've written over 5 chapters of this already. The full chapter count for this story hasn't been decided yet. I'll see where it goes <3 Second of all.... enjoy <3

series masterlist

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You hated being back. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was his eyes peering into yours from above. The mustache resting on his upper lip tickling your inner thighs, your neck, your forehead as he trailed kisses down your nose. You wished for the gods to take you back to Colombia. Back to him.

You remembered everything vividly - his hands on your body, the way they held you and the way they warmed your skin as they made their way over your body. There was no point in hiding it. You were completely and utterly in love with him.

It’d been no more than a week since you’d left Bogotá. Since you’d left him. You knew he was busy with his job, but the little he’d called you was somewhat unsettling. You waited for something - anything to happen to let you know he still thought of you - that you weren’t just a summer fling to him.

It came on a random Tuesday evening, and the way it showed itself… Well you could’ve avoided that. You’d just gotten home from one of your daily walks, where you found the proper time and space to think over the things that had happened, when you found your mother in the kitchen, postcard in hand.

The look on your mother’s face let you know exactly what was written on the postcard. “So that was what you were doing all summer, huh?” you felt the redness blooming in your cheeks as she waved it around. “Or should I say this,” she pointed to the scribbles. “Was who you were doing?”

Your eyes widened. Under normal circumstances your mother would’ve never addressed you like that. But you could see she was furious. She had been on your toes every day during your stay in Bogotá about the mystery guy who had drawn you away from them. “Who is he, then?”

You swallowed past the thick lump in your throat as you came to the conclusion, she had no business going through your stuff or reading your mail. “Mom!” You easily snatched the postcard from her hand, much to her dismay. “You can’t just…” you sigh before hiding the postcard behind your back. “He was… just a guy.”

The truth couldn’t be further from the words that had just left your lips. He wasn’t just a guy. No, he wasn’t a guy, he was a man. A man that had shown every crevice of your body pleasure like no one had ever done before. You felt your body react to just the thought about him, and it made you shudder.

You knew your mother would never believe any of the words you were currently trying to defend yourself with. You gave up with a sign and turned on your heel, walking through the house you called home and into the bedroom.

With the slam of your door, you finally looked properly at the postcard in your hand. You recognized the city of Bogotá easily.

Turning the card over in your hand you suck your lip in between your teeth, recollecting every feeling that flowed through your body with his lips against yours, his skin against yours, your bodies moving together as one.

You knew who had sent the card, even though there wasn’t any sender on it. The scribbled Spanish let you know, and boldly enough.

Parece que el destino nos ha juntado aposta. Yo sueño que estás cerca, tan cerca, aquí en mi camita durmiendo contigo, porque estoy pensando en ti otra vez

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

a month earlier

Summer break. God, how you dreaded summer break. Your parents had finally decided to leave the state for vacation, and you were excited to go somewhere you hadn’t been before.

When they had told you about the vacation, you had been overjoyed. Finally, your parents had decided to be a little lively, to go somewhere that wasn’t just safe and sound.

You felt excited when they told you the duration of the vacation as well, and you just couldn’t wait to get going.

Three weeks in Bogotá. It was like a dream come true. You knew some things about Colombia, and the whole corruption of the police and the drug trading from college. It had caught your interest then, and it still intrigued you to get to know more about the city. And since you possibly got to explore some of the city yourself, you were even happier.

You started packing right after your parents told you, to make sure you had everything you needed when you had to travel. They had let you know that the hotel had a pool, so one of the first things in your bag was, of course, your favorite bikini.

You were definitely going to suck up some rays to fill your cells with the D-vitamin. You knew the air was going to be stuffy, humid and warm, but that didn’t make any difference for you at all. You would say you had prepared yourself from home, but there were just some things you never could prepare for.

You were slowly counting down the days until your departure, and you felt more and more excited as the days passed. At the same time, you were nervous. Nervous about the people in general, nervous about meeting new people.

The whole people thing wasn’t really you, and you silently prayed that your parents wouldn’t force you into meeting people you didn’t want to, like they usually did when you were out and about.

Come and meet our friends, they have a son about your age. Maybe you could grow to like each other.

Sure thing.

What your parents didn’t know was, that boys your age didn’t turn you on in the slightest. Quite the contrary, though. There was no legitimate reason for you to be into older men, since you had barely even spoken to men. But from what you had seen in telenovelas to practice your Spanish, the men over 30 definitely spoke to you in another way than younger guys did.

There was something flawlessly sensual about men with stubbles and slight wrinkles encapsulating their eyes, and right now Rafael Novoa was occupying your mind a little bit more than necessary. The whole idea of meeting an older man, an experienced man made your toes and fingers tingle.

You often dreamed about a faceless older man, coming to rescue you for whatever reason your subconsciousness decided to make up, and you loved and cherished those dreams so much. It was wild - your body being able to make you soaking wet, bringing you on the edge of orgasms by just imagining a man in between your legs, often causing you to wake up, startled by an orgasm.

It was an all new feeling, and it kind of scared you. You didn’t really know why you suddenly imagined such raunchy and vivid sexual encounters with men you never saw the face of - but you weren’t one to complain. You secretly hoped - prayed - that your dreams would come every night.

On the very last night before you were due to leave for Colombia with your parents, you had yet another dream. One that left you wanting more, one that left nothing to the imagination. You didn’t remember how it started, but you did know exactly how it ended. And god, if you weren’t seeking that out if you got the chance.

Fingers tangled with someone elses fingers, pressed into the grass above your head - you’re moaning wantonly as the unfamiliar face hidden in the dark leaves lingering, deep kisses against your neck, their hips pressing forcefully into yours, a thick cock deeply imbedded into your core.

Your leg is drawn around their hips, urging them closer and closer, impossibly closer as you breathe out into the night, the soft squelching sound from between you filling your ears along with deep groans, letting you know just the effect you had on the person above you.

Their hips grind into yours, their pelvis grinding forcefully right into your clit, drawing sweet, sweet pleasure into your abdomen, an unfamiliar coil tightening in your belly. You whimper out as the faceless person brings their mouth on top of yours, pushing their tongue into the warmth of your mouth, searching out yours in the darkness.

Then everything turns white - and you wake up in cold sweat, your pussy forcefully convulsing around nothing as you sit up in your bed, brought back to reality, even though you weren’t ready to leave your fantasy just yet. You wanted to see the person your mind had made up, wanted to see who brought you so much pleasure you could come from just imagining it.

You tried closing your eyes, desperate to see something - anything - yet the face never showed itself. Your sheets felt clammy as they stuck to your sweaty thighs and you quickly threw them off yourself before you fan your hands in front of your face, let down by what just happened. God, you wanted to feel that again.

You dart out of bed and into your bathroom, taking in the blush creeping up your neck before you quickly discard your pyjamas, taking a hurried shower to wash the sweat off your body. You don’t want to spend much time in the bathroom that morning, simply wanting to get out into the fresh air outside.

Yet your fingers find their way between your legs as you close your eyes, imagining the same thing you had dreamt just minutes before, as you dip your finger into your wet pussy, your other hand bracing yourself against the wall. You can feel the slick that had come from your dream, and you bite your lip as another finger joins the first easily, and before you know it, yet another.

You had no idea you were able to fit three of your fingers inside of you, yet here you were, and you found yourself quickly approaching the edge where you were sure you were going to fall off. Your thumb circled your clit rapidly, causing your legs to shake as you came on your fingers, your lip tugged in between your teeth to stifle the noise. You quickly cleaned yourself and your fingers before finishing your shower, eager to get going.

The whole drive to the airport, the waiting and the stuffiness of the plane had caused your head to throb, and you silently counted down the hours until you were free of other people. The hours felt excruciatingly slow as you braced yourself on the armrests of the plane, trying to get in an hour of sleep to ease your head.

Nothing worked though. The sound of screaming from a small child had your ears ringing, and even though you felt bad for both the kid and the parents, you had no surplus energy to allow yourself to feel bad. You just felt annoyed. And your ears had popped upon ascend - that didn’t make anything better.

When the plane finally touched down on Colombian ground, you silently cheered while others clapped. Who the fuck claps on a plane? You rolled your eyes as you found your bag in the overhead storage, desperate to get out of the plane quickly. You sighed as you remembered you had to wait for your luggage inside the airport as well.

The whole waiting for your luggage thing went quickly, and within an hour you were unlocking the door to the rented apartment your parents had taken care of. It was small but charming - a tiny kitchenette, a small living room and another room where you suspected the bedroom to be. The bathroom was also tiny, but you didn’t mind. It was a beautiful place.

You pulled your luggage into your bedroom, digging through the suitcases for your sunscreen and a cardigan, pulling it on quickly before leaving your parents to settle in as you ventured out into the bustling streets of Colombia. You don’t know how much time you spent wandering around, but you found something to eat along the way before you made your way back to your apartment as it started to get dark out.

You quickly grew bored in your own company, so when you remembered a bar you had passed on your way home, you quickly went over the options you had before you decided to prep your face in the bathroom, switching your ordinary bra out with a bralette and throwing a silver, sequined top on along with a black skirt. You paired it with some flats - it was Colombia after all, and you weren’t that good at running in heels if it came to it.

You pushed a few things into your handbag before you snuck out of the dark apartment, noticing the darkness of your parent’s on the opposite side of the small garden that separated the two. The door locked easily, and you quickly ventured out into the night, desperately hoping for some adventure to find you.

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next chapter

[ssahotchhner]

hunter, hunted

i should not be so excited about this but i just discovered that when you copy and paste text into a new post tumblr FINALLY allows italics and bolded fonts to be transferred over so I don't have to remember to go through it and do it myself again i could literally CRY rn. ANYWAY I thought it would be fun to write a oneshot like the Profiler, Profiled where Morgan is accused of murder. i created an oc for this one and I hope you love April I've spent a lot of time with her the last couple of weeks (:

words: 13.4k

pairing: hotch x oc

warnings: detailed descriptions of murder and torture and sexual assault

questions comments concerns

“Where’s the weapon, April?”

It was almost laughable. A federal agent handcuffed in an interrogation room being questioned for murder in her small town while visiting a childhood friend. She shakes her head at the detective, laughing. “I carry a gun on me at all times because, as I said, I’m a federal agent. You have it in your possession already. If you want to test it to see if I’ve fired it recently, be my guest. You won’t find anything.”

“You’re right, we won’t find anything because Brandon Perry died from blunt force trauma to the head. So I’ll ask you again, where is the weapon?”

This time, April does laugh. Of course he wasn’t shot. That would be too easy. “You know what, Detective Barnes, if you hadn’t kicked my hotel door down in the middle of the night, handcuffed me and dragged me in here, I may have cooperated with the investigation, but here we are. So I’ll tell you again: my Unit Chief is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I won’t be answering any more questions until I can speak with him.”

The middle aged man glares at her until finally getting up and leaving her alone in the interrogation room. She rested her head on the table and hoped that maybe that stupid motherfucker would listen to her this time.

***

“Hunter has been detained in Bar Harbor, Maine.” Hotch tells the team in the conference room.

JJ frowns, “Isn’t that her hometown? Why has she been arrested?”

“For murder.” Hotch says. Before the team can react, he pulls up a picture of Brandon Perry’s body, “Brandon Perry was found yesterday by a fisherman just off the docks a week after he was released from prison on parole. He had been bludgeoned to death with some sort of blunt object, the M.E. suggests a baseball bat.”

“And why do they think April did this?” Spencer asks.

Hotch clicks a button and a picture of a couple brutally murdered in their bed, a little boy who’s throat had been slashed, and a little girl with brown hair and bright green eyes, alive and well filled the screen, “Because he was serving time for the murders of Addison, Jacob, and Timothy Hunter. April’s family.”

Everyone stares at the monitor in shock, “Her whole family was murdered when she was a kid… and she never mentioned it to us?” Penelope asks, her lower lip trembling.

“April was left relatively unharmed, but she had been sexually assaulted by the assailant. She said he was tall, but he had on a ski mask so she was never able to give solid identification.” Hotch finishes.

“So how’d they connect these murders to Brandon Perry?” Rossi asks.

“He was connected to a couple other home invasions and assaults nearby so he entered a plea deal. The local police were under a lot of pressure to close the case.”

“Breaking into homes to murdering almost an entire family is a big escalation.” Morgan says.

Hotch nods, “I thought so too.”

“April was just a kid,” Prentiss says, “And to go through a trauma like that, I’m sure she believed whatever the police fed her. And to see him be released from prison like that… I hate to say it, but it could have been the trigger.”

Penelope’s shaking her head, “No, no, you guys don’t really think April did this, do you?”

Everyone’s silent for a moment and then Morgan speaks, “Baby girl, if she’s innocent, we’ll prove it. But we can’t rule out the possibility that she did this just yet.”

“I know April hasn’t been here that long,” Garcia says, “But she is still a part of this family. You can all treat her like an unsub, but I won’t.” She finishes and marches out of the conference room.

Aaron sighs, “Wheels up in thirty.” He says resolutely before leaving the room.

***

Hotch walked into the police station, the team at his back and was greeted by a man about April’s age who introduced himself as Detective Fielder. “Detective, I’d like to speak to my agent.” Hotch demanded after shaking the man’s hand.

The man shrugged, “Sorry, sir. My partner’s in there with her. She’s stubborn as hell. I went to school with her, you know it’s a shame the way her family died but… must’ve knocked a screw loose or somethin’. She ain’t ever been the same.”

Aaron thought it over, killers had made their way into the bureau before. Not like this, though. Not under the nose of his whole team. April kept to herself, but she had joined this team less than a year ago, it would be overwhelming for anyone. “You misunderstand, detective. It wasn’t a request. Bring me to my agent.”

Reluctantly, the younger detective brought Hotch to the back of the station where he could already hear another man, older by the sounds of it, screaming at April.

She was staring back at him, her posture relaxed, looking more annoyed than anything. Hotch walked in and she relaxed further, only then letting on that she had been putting on a show of being unbothered for the detective, “Thank God.” April sighs, “I thought maybe they didn’t call you.”

“Are you alright?” He asks her first, unable to explain why hearing another man scream at you had made his blood boil.

“I’m fine,” She says and directs her attention back to the older detective, “Detective Barnes won’t even get me a water, though.”

“Detective Fielder, get April some water.” Hotch demands. He can feel the two men exchange a look behind him before the younger detective leaves the room. “Detective Barnes, uncuff my agent.”

“You can’t let her go, you don’t have jurisdiction here.” He growls.

“I’m not suggesting you let her go, but even if you’re right she committed a one off crime of revenge. She’s not a threat to anyone here. Uncuff her.” The detective glared at April who only smirked at him. “Now, detective.” Aaron said, firmer this time.

With a look of disgust on his face, the detective uncuffed a smiling April as detective Fielder came back in the room with a cup of water. “Thank you, Billy.” April said as the detective placed the cup in front of her. He ignored her completely.

“I’d like to speak to her alone.”

“Like Hell.” Detective Barnes spat.

“With all due respect, detective, it doesn’t appear that you’ve gotten much out of her. You’re welcome to watch through the window, but I will be questioning her. Clear the room.” They stared at each other for another few moments before the detectives both left the room. Hotch turned back to April whose entire demeanor changed. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and slouching over the table as she rubbed at her wrists where the cuffs had been. The antagonizing behavior Hotch had just witnessed her exhibit completely vanished.

“You don’t help when you antagonize them like that.” Hotch says.

She shrugs, “The men in this town don’t like a woman who thinks she’s his equal. They never liked my attitude. They like it even less now that I outrank them. Either I act like the superior I am, even in cuffs, or they force me into submission.”

He sits down at the table across from her, “Why didn’t you tell me about your family? It wasn’t in your file.”

“Strauss knew.” April says, immediately defensive. She hadn’t lied, the bureau knew.

“But you didn’t want me or the team knowing, why?” She doesn’t answer him, just stares at her hands. “April, I can’t help you if I don’t know.” He says gently.

Finally she looks up and sighs, “When I was twelve my entire family was brutalized and murdered in front of me, but not before the unsub raped me in front of my parents. And I didn’t react the way the people of this town wanted me to. I was twelve and I was covered in semen when he left. So I showered before calling 911. I didn’t cry even once in front of anyone and I never spoke about what happened to anyone, not even the police. Only enough to tell them that I had no idea what he looked like, but I thought he was white.” Her eyes water just slightly and she doesn’t meet his eyes, “For the six years after the murders that I stayed in this town, I know a lot of people thought I did it. That I was some kind of psychopath. So no, I didn’t want it in my file.”

“You thought maybe we’d arrive at the same decision the town did.” Hotch opens the case file, “But you were never tried or even considered a real suspect. There was no physical evidence.”

She smiles sadly, “No physical evidence means nothing to a small town who’s rarely ever seen a scandal, and certainly nothing like this.”

He stares at her for a moment, “And so when Brandon Perry was released from jail, you thought he hadn’t suffered nearly enough so you came back up here and killed him.” April laughs and Hotch can see he’s made her feel antagonistic again, “This isn’t funny, April, you’re a suspect in a homicide.”

“No, Hotch, you don’t understand. It’s funny because I don’t even believe Brandon Perry killed my family and I haven’t believed that for a long long time. Which is why it would make no goddamn sense for me to kill him.”

“That’s bullshit!” The door bursts open and detective Barnes walks in.

“Detective--” Hotch stands as if to shield her and April nearly frowns at how protective he seems to be of her right now. She had seen him this way around the rest of the team, but never her.

“You told Detective Fielder when you were fifteen that you would kill that son of bitch yourself if he ever got out of jail.”

Hotch looks at April with a bit of annoyance, he hated when others had more information than him and from the second he walked in here she kept hiding things from him, not telling him the whole truth.

She lazily rolls her eyes and stares at Billy, “I was fifteen. I was angry. He cooperated with the police so he had the opportunity to get parole after fifteen years? Get his life back after I thought he had ruined mine? Yeah, I said some stupid shit, I think any kid would have.”

“When did you start to doubt that Brandon Perry had killed your family?” Hotch asks, but she’s still shooting daggers at the other detectives, “Agent, eyes here.” He says roughly, growing impatient with her.

Her eyes snap to his, “I used to lurk on support pages for people whose loved ones had been murdered and I remember seeing that this girl described… Almost exactly what had happened to my family, but she said it happened while Brandon was on trial here. She lived a couple towns over.”

“So what did you do?”

She shrugs, “Nothing, I was seventeen, I didn’t have any resources there was nothing I could do.”

Hotch sits down across from her again, leaning over the table so he’s closer to her, “You really expect me to believe, with the conviction you just said Brandon is innocent, that you didn’t look into this further?” She stays quiet and won’t meet his eyes, “I can have Garcia search your desk and computer if you’d rather do this that way.”

She leans back in her chair, rolling her eyes, “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m not a fucking criminal.”

“Then tell me what you know.” Hotch says, voice raised.

“Fine! I started volunteering at the police station so I could get access to files. I was good with the digital databases, but no one else was so they basically gave me free reign. I was able to find three similar cases, all within a couple years of each other but in different cities. One of them, he crossed into New Hampshire. All of the local police departments either arrested someone like Brandon or dismissed it as a one off crime and let it go cold. The files are in my desk drawer at the BAU.”

“You carried them with you all this time?”

She picks at the cuticles around her thumb, something Hotch noticed weeks ago she does when she’s nervous. “I thought… I thought about asking you guys to just look at the case a million times. See if you saw what I saw. And if you didn’t then maybe I could finally move on.”

“So why didn’t you ask?”

Her eyes dart around the room, to the detectives, the one way window, and then back to Hotch, “You guys, the team, you all have… This unbreakable bond and I… I barely just got here and I thought if I’d asked…” She sighs and runs her hands through her hair, “I just… I didn’t think you’d care.”

“The whole team flew out here at the drop of hat for you and you think we wouldn’t care?”

She frowns, “The whole team is here?”

“Yes.”

April sits back in her chair, looking dazed.

“Detectives, you’ll be releasing Agent Hunter from your custody now and since we have reason to believe there’s a serial killer loose and across state lines, we’ll be staying on the case.”

“You don’t really believe anything she’s saying, do you? She’s a psychopath!” Detective Barnes fumed.

Hotch stands and steps to the detective who immediately takes a step back after noticing Hotch’s menacing stance, “She is a federal agent and is no longer a suspect, you have no physical evidence and you just lost motive. You will speak to her with respect and if you don’t think you can handle that I’ll contact your superintendent and have you removed from the case. Is that clear?”

The detective stood back and out of their way, April looking at the ground so Hotch wouldn’t have to yell at her for antagonizing them again.

“What’s the history with you and Billy?” Hotch asks as they walk out of the room.

April rolls her eyes, “He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Hotch muses, “You can do better.”

Before she can figure out if he was joking or not, the team realizes she’s walking of her own free will and they seem to all release the tension in their bodies. JJ walks to April first, pulling her into a hug before she can react.

April slowly raises her arms to hug JJ back, “I wish you had told us sooner.” Is all she says.

“I’m sorry you guys came all the way out here.” April addresses the team when JJ moves away from her.

“That’s okay, Hunter, we’re just glad to see you aren’t a murderer.” Morgan teases.

“We might actually be staying here for a while after all.” Hotch says.

Prentiss frowns, “Is there a case here?”

April opens and closes her mouth, “I-- Maybe.”

“Why don’t you call Garcia, ask her to get those files to everyone.” Hotch says to her quietly.

April nods and walks off.

“What’s going on, Hotch?” Rossi asks.

Hotch pushes his hands in his pockets, “The reason we were able to clear Hunter is because she has no motive. She doesn’t believe Brandon Perry killed her family and she hasn’t since she was a teenager.” He pauses, “She thinks the murders may be the work of a serial killer. She found three additional cases nearby, one crosses over to New Hampshire, that she believes are the work of the same unsub.”

Prentiss slowly nods, “And you want us to see if that’s true or not.”

Hotch nods, “I’m sure April would really appreciate our support.”

Everyone on the team is already nodding when April comes back, “So, as Penelope might say… Avengers assemble?” She asks hopefully.

Thankfully, they all laugh and nod, even Hotch cracks a smile, “Great.” April sighs in relief, “Let’s go to the conference room.”

With Garcia on a laptop screen, April tells them everything she knows, which admittedly, isn’t much. However, there are overwhelming similarities between the cases.

“Every family he chose was wife, husband, two kids. The eldest was the daughter all between the ages of 11-13 and in each case the daughter was raped and kept alive.” April was speaking as if she wasn’t speaking about herself and Hotch would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him. “In each case the parents were brutally tortured with a knife, forced to watch the rape and then killed with a fatal gunshot to the head. The boy was always killed first and it was always quick.”

“A mercy kill?” Reid muses.

April sighs, “I’ve never been able to figure that part out. It’s obvious he gets off on the rape and torture of the parents and daughter, but why not leave the boy alive the way he always leaves the daughter if it’s out of mercy?”

“It could be he thinks he’s sparing the boy the pain and trauma of having to go through the after effects of watching his parents and sister tortured.” Prentiss says.

“When all is said and done the daughter suffers the most psychologically.” Hotch says, “She could be the real target, maybe a surrogate for someone he knew.”

At this point, Hotch notices the way April is staring at the table, eyes unfocused, “Hunter,” Her eyes shoot up, “You must be exhausted, let me drive you back to the hotel so you can get some rest.”

“Hotch, I’m fine, I want to help.”

“No,” He says and she frowns, “If the daughter is the true target we’re going to have to dive deeper into victimology. Why he chose you. You don’t want to be here for that.”

Everyone’s quiet and deliberately looks away from April. She sighs, “Fine, but I’m coming back first thing in the morning.” She stands and walks out of the conference room without waiting for Hotch.

“Garcia, see what you can find about April’s childhood as well as the other victims and let us know if there’s any similarities.” Hotch says.

“It feels icky, but I’ll do it.” Garcia responds.

“I’ll be back.” Hotch addresses the rest of the team before heading after April.

They ride in silence for a few minutes, Hotch glancing over to the passenger seat every few seconds. “Whatever you want to say just say it.” April says, growing tired of the constant glances.

“You don’t have to keep working on this case like it’s any other case--”

“It’s not just any other case.”

“I know,” He says gently, “I’m worried about you. I know you bottle things up, showing emotion to other people makes you feel vulnerable, which in turn makes you feel weak. And I worry that the way you’re bottling up your rage is going to lead to you taking it out on--”

“I didn’t kill Brandon.” She says.

“I know you didn’t. But if we do find the real killer, I can’t let you come with us into the field until he’s been taken into custody.”

“Hotch--”

“It’s not up for discussion. I’m sorry.”

She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest and they continue on in silence for a while longer. “Do you think our unsub is also responsible for Brandon’s death?” Hotch felt guilty about upsetting her and thought maybe getting her brain back into work mode would stop her from giving him the silent treatment.

For a few moments he thinks she might continue to ignore him, but finally, she sighs, “It’s possible. If we think he gets off on the suffering of the daughters, he might be upset that I thought he had been caught. That I felt safe knowing he was behind bars. Killing Brandon after he was released could have been a message to me that he’s still out there and obviously following me.”

“You don’t feel safe anymore.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It was implied.” Hotch pauses, “I can stay at the hotel with you, work with the team remotely from the room next to yours.”

He expects her to refuse, but instead she agrees. “Okay.” She says quietly. This only worries him more as she is typically unlikely to accept help unless he insists upon it.

They walk up to the hotel room in silence and Hotch stands behind her as she unlocks her door, “Hey,” He says softly and she turns, “Anything you need, anything at all, I’ll be right there.” He nods his head to the door next to them.

“Thank you.” She says, giving him a small smile before pushing the hotel door open and then quickly closing it behind her.

He stands there for a moment, staring at the space she was just standing in before sighing and going to his own room.

“How is she doing?” Rossi asks when he calls the team from his room to let them know he’ll be staying there.

“She won’t admit it, but she’s scared. She thinks he might be following her and that Brandon Perry was a message to her that he’s still out there.”

“That would make sense if we think the girls are the real targets.” Prentiss chimes in.

Hotch stays on the phone with them a little while longer before they all decide to head back to the hotel. He stares at the wall that separates him from April and tries to get his mind to quiet enough to rest. He’s right here. Nothing will hurt her if he’s right here. He thought about how just last week Rossi had teased him for catching him staring at April. He had nearly convinced Aaron to ask her out. But she was so distant and hard to read and he didn’t want to chance rejection. Eventually, he closes his eyes and drifts off, an image of you smiling at him on the backs of his eyelids.

***

April was exhausted, but she stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Small noises that she never thought twice about now startled her. Hotch is next door. She reminded herself. She thought about the comment he made about Billy: You could do better. Had he been… Flirting? Aaron Hotchner… Flirting? It felt absurd. Shaking the thought out of her head, she got up and poured herself some water from the Brita in the mini fridge. Finally, after drinking the water, she’s able to fall asleep.

The breeze against her face wakes her. Slowly blinking her eyes into consciousness, she notices the balcony doors are open. Those were closed when I fell asleep, She thinks to herself and shoots up in bed, scrambling for her gun as her heart races. April considers yelling to Hotch, but if he’s still here she doesn’t want to scare him off.

On the wall at the foot of her bed reads “Welcome Home” in what looks like blood. Under it sits her favorite childhood teddy bear, head ripped clean off. She tightens her grip on the gun in order to stop the shaking and then glances around the room, but there’s nothing. Then she slowly opens the bathroom door. Pointing her gun at the shower, the curtain moves. She doesn’t hesitate she fires off four rounds, breathing hard. She doesn’t hear a body fall. Reaching out she pushes the curtain, but no one’s there.

Seconds later, Hotch is calling her name, but he doesn’t wait for a response before kicking down the door. “Hunter?” He calls again and she thinks she might hear fear in his voice. Fear for her?

“I’m in the bathroom. You can put down your gun, it’s clear.” He appears behind her a moment later, still staring at the shower, “I thought he was still in here.”

She walks around him and back out to where he left the message, “He came in through the balcony, I— I thought I locked it…” She trails off, looking at the glass of water on the table and realizing she can’t remember when she fell asleep.

“What is it?” Hotch asks.

“He was in here before. I think he drugged my water.”

He narrows his eyes at her, “We should go to the hospital then, I’ll have the team come here and treat this as a crime scene.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m fine—“

“We don’t know what he gave you or how much, besides, having you tested will tell us what he used faster than sending a sample of the water to Quantico.”

“Fine.” She agrees begrudgingly, he was right. She walks over to her bag of clothes and it’s only at this moment that she realizes she had worn only an oversized t-shirt to bed and Hotch was making a valiant effort not to stare at her legs.

“I’ll, um, I have to get dressed as well.” He says hurriedly, gesturing to the pajama pants he’s wearing. He leaves before she can say anything else. Under normal circumstances, April’s sure this would have made her laugh, but that teddy bear seems to be staring her down. She gets dressed and leaves the room without another glance.

***

April stares out the window of the SUV in silence while Hotch calls Rossi to fill him in on what happened so the rest of the team can start assessing her hotel room. When he hangs up, she feels his eyes darting between her and the road again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks quietly.

She’s quiet for a moment and then she takes a shaky breath, “That teddy bear went missing from my room a couple weeks before the murders. It was my favorite.” She swipes impatiently at the tears that start falling, “I blamed Timmy for it, we fought about it for hours. He felt so bad that I was mad at him he used his birthday money to buy me another one. I really thought he took it.” She tilts her head back in the headrest, trying desperately to stop the impending sobs.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, but he reaches across the car to hold her hand. To her own surprise, she lets him, the calluses on his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of her hand.

***

“What do you have, Garcia?” Hotch steps out of your examination room for a moment to accept the call.

“How is she?” Penelope asks first.

“She’s… shaken up. But, like everyone else on this team does an excellent job of seeming unaffected.”

She sighs, “My poor wonder woman. Anyway, I think I found the connection between all the daughters.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it turns out that our April was a very talented child. Her parents took her to talent shows regularly, she was voted ‘Most Likely To Make It To Hollywood’ in her middle school yearbook.”

Hotch frowns and looks back at April, “We’re talking about the same federal agent, right?”

“I know, sir, not much surprises me anymore, but this did. There’s videos of her singing all over the internet, she was on the local news, quite the young star.”

“And the other victims?”

“All singers, sir. Every last one.”

“Thanks, Garcia.”

He walks back into April’s room, “You used to be a singer.” He says.

She rolls her eyes, “So?”

“So all the other daughters were singers too.” She sets her jaw and won’t meet his eyes. She’s not surprised by this information. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“You didn’t think it was relevant that there was a connection between all of the victims?”

She sighs and she feels shame at his obvious disappointment, “I’m sorry. I’ve worked really hard to block it out, sometimes I honestly forget.”

“What else aren’t you telling me?”

She bites her lip and looks down at her hands, picking at the cuticles around her thumb again, “He made me sing while… While he raped me.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No. I swear.”

He stares at her for moment and she knows he’s trying to see if she’s lying. It makes her angry at him, but also at herself. Maybe Hotch had never been as fond of her as the others, but he had never distrusted her. Just another thing the unsub had taken from her. “What song did he make you sing?”

The question is so painful to think about that she visibly flinches, “Do you really need to know that?”

“You know I do.” He says softly.

She looks away from him again, back to the cuticle on her thumb that she’s made bleed, “Like A Virgin by Madonna.”

He places his hand over hers again and she finds it almost alarming the way his touch seems to immediately calm her. “April, we won’t stop until we find him. I promise.”

She gives him a teary smile, “Will you stay with me?”

He smiles back at her, giving her a hand a slight squeeze and his smile takes her breath away, “I’ll be glued to your side until this case is over.”

***

A couple hours later they had found out that there was a classic date rape drug in April’s system: Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid, or GHB. The drug is usually prescribed for narcolepsy, but it was most often obtained illegally from Mexican pharmacies which they assumed was how the unsub got it.

“I’m bringing you back to the police station so you can stay with me and the team like I promised, but you don’t have to keep working the case.” Hotch says as he drives.

“Funny that you think you can stop me from working the case.”

He smirks a bit and brings his attention back to the road.

“What do you guys have for a profile so far?” He looks over at her, frowning. “What? I know you guys have been working while I’ve been reliving my trauma so what’ve you got?”

“White male, when he murdered your family he was probably in his twenties so now we’re guessing mid thirties to early forties. The torture is consistent with a sadist. Killing an entire family is an incredibly high risk crime which suggests he’s a narcissist, but also very organized. He’s able to control four people at once without much difficulty and he’s never left a shred of physical evidence behind except on the daughters. This means he’s arrogant and--” Hotch cuts himself off.

“What?”

“You said you showered before calling 911. Why?”

“I… I told you he left… He left his semen all over me, I was just a kid, I wanted a shower--”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. Yes, you were traumatized, but every kid has it hardwired in their brain that as soon as something bad happens the first thing they do is call 911.”

“Okay, well I didn’t.”

He presses some buttons on the console of the car and then Garcia’s voice is coming through the speaker, “At your service, sir.”

“Garcia, in any of the family murders, was there a rape kit done on any of the daughters?”

“Well, surely there must have been-- Oh. No, no rape kits, not on any of them.”

“Does a police report tell you why?”

“I’m checking… and…” There’s a sigh from Penelope.

“What is it, Garcia?”

“All of them showered before calling 911.”

April is already shaking her head, “No, no that can’t be right.”

“Did any of them report why they showered before calling for help?”

“Most of them, like April, just reported that they felt icky and needed to shower, but the first one, the very first victim Katie Yates, she reported that the unsub made her shower. Like, held her at gunpoint, marched her to the bathroom, and watched. Once he was satisfied with how clean she was, he left while she was still in the shower.”

“That’s not what happened,” April says quietly, her eyes closed.

“Thank you, Garcia.” Hotch says and hangs up the phone before she can respond, “April--”

“No.” She says fiercely, “I’m telling you that’s not what happened.”

“Every other aspect of the crime is controlled and calculated, he wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving DNA all over his victims--”

“I would remember that if he did--”

“No,” Hotch says gently. He had pulled into the police station now, putting the car in park, “No, because you didn’t want to remember. Just that one memory, that one you wanted so badly to believe was your own. That he wasn’t there for the shower. But he was, wasn’t he?”

“Please stop.” She said breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere and he puts his hand over hers, “Look at me.” She doesn’t obey immediately so he reaches up to grip her chin and gently turn her face to his. Her eyes are shining and her breathing is uneven, but his eyes are soft and she has the absurd urge to rest her forehead against his. “He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

She nods and swallows. “I need you to walk me through exactly what happened after the rape.” He continues. Her lip trembles, but she nods again. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Hotch--” She whimpers.

“I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time. You know how this goes. Close your eyes.” She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes. “Good. He’s on top of you still. He’s just finished. Tell me what you feel, what you hear.”

“Um. I’m crying. I can hear my parents crying. His weight on me is making it hard to breathe.” She starts panicking, her breathing quickens.

“April, focus. He’s not here. You’re safe. What about your hands, what are you touching?”

“The carpet. I’m on the floor in the basement.”

“Can you see your parents?”

“Yes,” She gulps, “But I’m trying not to look at them. It’s humiliating.”

“Okay. Now what is he doing?”

“He… He kisses my neck and whispers in my ear ‘Thank you for the show’ and then he stands up.” Her breathing quickens, “He’s walking to my parents, I don’t want to watch, he’s going to kill them, Hotch--!”

“Okay, okay, come back. Open your eyes. I’m here.” His hands come up to cradle her face. She should be startled by her boss touching her like this, but she’s oddly comforted.

Her breathing finally slows, “I’m tired.” She says softly.

“I know. We’re almost done. Close your eyes again, you can do this.” His hands stay on her face as she closes her eyes again, “Okay. Your parents are dead. What does he do now?”

“Uh, I’m screaming. He’s looking at me and laughing and then he grabs my arm and pulls me up from the floor. I struggle and he puts the gun to my head and says if I don’t calm down he’ll blow out my brains like he did my parents. And then… He walks me up the stairs to the bathroom…” Her breathing becomes rapid again, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Yes you can.” Hotch’s voice is low and soothing. He believes in you, she thinks to herself, if he thinks you can do this, you can.

“He turns on the shower. I’m already naked and once I’m in the shower he starts undressing.” Silent tears stream down her cheeks and she’s distantly aware of Hotch gently wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs. “He comes in the shower. He’s touching me. I’m begging him to stop. Oh, God.”

“April, stay there. He’s undressed, he’s taken the mask off, do you recognize him?”

She’s shaking her head, “I can’t… I can’t look.”

“The water’s hitting your skin, his hands are on you--”

“Stop.”

“Look up, April.”

Despite herself, she listens. She’s in that shower, significantly smaller than she is now, and she looks up to see blue eyes looking down at her. Shaggy brown hair nearly covers them, especially now that it’s wet. He has a smirk on his face and crooked front teeth. There’s a tattoo on his right arm of a cross.

“Okay, okay that’s enough, you did it.” Hotch’s voice pulls her back out and she becomes aware of the car that’s still around them and the fact that she’s sobbing. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You did so good.” She falls forward in his arms and after a moment of hesitation he wraps his arms around her, holding her until her breathing settles. It takes him a moment to realize that anyone could look in the SUV and find him in a seemingly compromising position with his subordinate and he pulls away. To his shock, she seems to look disappointed. “You ready to go inside?”

“Yeah.” She says and without another word, she gets out of the car. Hotch can’t deny that he feels like he’s done something wrong as he watches April walk into the station.

When April walks in the station, her whole team cranes their heads to watch her, but she heads straight for the coffee without looking at anyone. Hotch files in soon after.

“Is she okay?” Reid asks, the rest of the team waits for his answer.

“I just gave her a cognitive interview, I’m sure she’s upset.”

“Did you learn anything?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” Hotch nods, “She remembers what he looks like and she identified a tattoo on his right arm.”

“We should have Garcia run that, see if we can get an ID.” Morgan says.

“Call a sketch artist as well.” Hotch looks up at where April was standing just a few moments ago to see her gone, “Excuse me.”

***

April’s hands shake so hard as she tries to pour the coffee she ends up putting it down in frustration. “Need some help?” She turns to see Billy, standing there smirking at her.

Sighing, she stands back and gestures for him to go ahead. He steps in to pour the coffee, “Pretty elaborate ruse you got going on, staging a break in at your hotel room with that teddy bear.”

She stares at him in disbelief, “You still think I did this?”

“I think,” He says, handing her a cup of coffee, “That you’re impulsive and you went to confront Brandon and you didn’t mean to kill him, but you did and now this is all to cover everything up.”

“Oh,” She scoffs and starts walking away from him, “You are delusional and a dick.”

He follows April into another room and closes the door behind them, “Open the door.” She says when she realizes she’s shut in.

“You and your stupid FBI team are making this whole police force look bad, you need to drop the investigation.”

“The cases cross state lines, we have jurisdiction.”

“Yeah, you would have jurisdiction if there was a real case, but there isn’t. You’re a pathological liar and you can’t even see it. Brandon Perry murdered your family and raped you and just can’t let it go.”

“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” She walks around him to the door, but he turns quickly and places his palm against the door, slamming it shut again. “Let me out.” She says slowly.

“I’ll let you out when you promise me that you’re going to march out there and tell them that you’ve been lying this whole time and then march your pretty ass back to D.C.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll arrest you for the murder of Brandon Perry.”

“You have no evidence.”

“Oh, April, April, April. I know you know what a coerced confession is here. And I also know that you know a jury of your peers here in Maine would send you to prison for less.”

There’s a sharp knock on the door and Billy finally steps away. When she opens it, Hotch is on the other side, “Everything okay in here?”

“Just fine, Agent Hotchner. Isn’t that right April?” Billy says and grabs a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger and tugging, exactly like he used to when he sat behind her in middle school.

April slaps her hand on his wrist and twists his arm around until he yells. “You lay a hand on me or threaten me again, I will make sure you don’t have a career here anymore. Understood?”

“You can’t--” He starts, but she twists his arm further.

“Am I clear?” She says again.

“Alright, fine!”

She shoves him away and he stumbles, nearly falling to the floor as April storms out, Hotch still standing in the doorway, watching Billy.

“I told you,” Billy says, pushing himself to standing, “She’s a crazy bitch.”

“Detective, let me make myself very clear. If you continue to harass my agent or impede on this investigation in any way, not only will I make sure you never have a career in law enforcement again, I will arrest you for obstructing a federal investigation.”

Billy shakes his head, “She’s got you all wrapped around her finger.”

“And I think your boss has you wrapped around his finger. He’s the one who arrested Brandon Perry. Seems like he would have a lot more to lose if he was wrong than you would.”

“He wasn’t wrong.”

“Then let us conduct the investigation. If it leads back to Brandon Perry, then so be it.”

“You really think she’d accept that?”

“If the evidence led us there, she would. Now stay out of our investigation if you value your job.” Hotch leaves without giving him time to respond and then tries to find April.

“Are you alright?” He asks when he finds her. She’s sitting alone at a conference table.

“I’m fine, Billy’s just an asshole.”

“There’s more to your relationship than you told me to begin with.”

She frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“You said you came up here to visit a friend. Who were you visiting?”

“I’m tired of being interrogated--”

“The reason Billy is so sure you killed Brandon Perry is because you were with him that night and then you left suddenly, isn’t it?”

April sighs and looks down at the table, “Hotch, I appreciate everything you’re doing to help, but who I was with and what I was doing that night doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t kill Brandon so please just drop it.”

He shakes his head and he looks almost frustrated with April, but that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he care so much about her relationship with Billy? “I don’t understand why you would waste your time on a cop like that, look at what a mess it put you in.”

She frowns, “With all due respect, sir, it’s really not your business who I’m sleeping with.”

“Why did you leave that night if you didn’t kill Brandon?”

She scoffs, “I can’t believe this.”

“Answer the question.”

She was angry with him. Practically bursting at the seams with rage. Just like every other man, thinking he’s entitled to everything about her. They all disappointed her in the end. “Billy and I had a fight and I wanted to be alone.”

“What was the fight about?”

“He wanted to be an official couple again. I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head to the side, “Just because I’m a good fuck doesn’t mean he gets to claim me. Like you said, he’s just a stupid cop and I could do better. Now will you leave me alone?”

April recognized that look in his eyes: He was jealous. Aaron Hotchner was jealous that she had a sexual relationship with another man. And suddenly her anger evaporated and was replaced by desire. She supposed she did always have a thing for older men which she was sure a profiler would say had to do with her dead dad. Either way, she sent a smoldering glare his way until he left her alone.

When he left, she rested her head on the table in exhaustion and didn’t notice Emily had approached until she heard the seat in front of her being pulled out. She raises her head and manages a smile, “Hi.”

“How are you doing?” She asks.

“Better now that you’re here, I’m tired of all the men around here.”

She laughs, “Good. Well, the sketch artist is here and I’m sad to report that he is a man.” April groans. “But, I will stay with you if you want and then I think we’re all going to work through the night, but Hotch was talking about bringing you back to the hotel to get some rest. It sounds like you had a rough day.”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “Cognitive interviews are the worst.”

As promised, Emily sits with her while she talks to the sketch artist and Hotch walks over not long after. When it’s finished, Emily gives your hand a squeeze and leaves with the sketch to pin to the evidence board.

“You should get some rest, I’ll take you back to the hotel now.” Hotch says, hands in his pockets. It was intriguing to her that he could act like he didn’t just ask about her sex life only an hour ago.

“I can’t sleep in that room again.”

“You can sleep in mine. I’ll sleep on the floor,” He adds quickly upon seeing the look on her face.

She sighs, “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, just don’t touch me.”

“Won’t be a problem.” And with the indifference in his tone, she thought maybe she had actually imagined everything earlier.

“Great.” She murmurs and gets up to walk out first.

Hotch stays behind for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and Rossi comes up behind him, “You picked a terrible time to start giving her hints about the way you feel, Aaron.”

“We’re trying to solve a case about her family’s murder and all I can think about is how pissed off it makes me to know that she’s been sleeping with someone else.”

“You’re human.”

Hotch just shakes his head and walks away.

***

“Daddy driving you home?”

The voice behind April makes her jump, her hand flying automatically to her gun.

“Woah, it’s just me April.” Billy laughs, leaning up against the station building, “You really are on edge, lately, huh? A sign of guilt or genuine fear?”

She could strangle him right here, she thinks. But instead, she reigns in her temper and leans against the wall next to him, “What about your daddy, huh? Haven’t seen him here all day. Is he too busy making wrongful arrests?”

Billy scoffs, “Yeah, and how’s your stupid little profile going? Did you find the real killer yet?”

She sighs, “You cops are all the same, think your old fashioned police work is better than profiling.”

Billy looks like he’s about to respond, but Hotch walks through the door just then, “There’s daddy, you better hurry up and get in the car like a good girl.”

Hotch barely registers what Billy’s said before April launches herself at him, fists flying. He immediately reacts, grabbing her arms, “Hunter, hey, hey! That’s enough! Get in the car.” He says sternly.

She shakes him off, but walks to the car all the same.

“Fucking bitch.” Billy mutters, drawing Hotch’s attention back to him.

“Detective, I thought I made myself clear that you were to stay away from my agent and out of my case.”

Billy steps up, eye to eye with Hotch, “This is my station, agent. Back off.”

Hotch stares him down for a few more moments, “The superintendent will be hearing from me tomorrow, at the very least you’ll be getting suspended. Maybe now’s a good time for you to clean out your desk.” And then he turns and walks back to the SUV, ignoring Billy’s curses behind him.

Once Hotch is in the SUV and starts driving away, he starts talking to April, “When you’re out in the field you represent me, you represent the team, and the whole bureau. You can’t just--”

“I don’t need a lecture right now.”

He’s surprised to hear tears in her voice and it softens him immediately, “April, I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you today.”

“You’ve only done what you need to do to solve the case, you shouldn’t apologize.”

“No, no, I… I shouldn’t have questioned you about Billy earlier. You were right, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine.” She says. First indifference, now an apology. Maybe she really had imagined everything. “I just want to sleep.”

***

Hotch works for a while by the light of the lamp when you get into bed, poring over the case files again and again, trying to figure out if they had missed anything. He’s pretty sure April is actually sleeping and once he’s sure he can’t get any more work done, he turns off the lamp and gets ready for bed.

He slips in the bed as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake her, but there’s the smallest moan that escapes her lips when the mattress shifts. A moment later, she turns over, still in sleep and slings her arm over his chest, sighing contentedly as she rests her head on his chest. Hotch freezes, unsure of how to react before slowly wrapping his arms around her in return. Her shampoo smells like peaches and vanilla and he breathes it in deeply knowing in the morning she’ll pretend this never happened.

***

When April wakes up and finds herself in Hotch’s arms, legs tangled under the sheets, she does her best not to panic. With the way they were positioned, it was clear she had initiated this which was all the more embarrassing. Lucky for her though, she doesn’t have to figure out her next move because his phone rings. She pretends to be asleep as he slowly comes to wakefulness and reaches for his phone.

“Hotchner.” His voice is husky from sleep and it sends a thrill through her and she imagines for a moment what it would be like if Aaron Hotchner was hers. Then she hears Billy’s voice in her head calling him her daddy and the moment sours.

“Okay.” He says after a few moments, “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

He ends the call and sets the phone back on the nightstand, but to her surprise, he doesn’t immediately wake her. “Are you awake?” He whispers after a few moments and she tries not to balk.

“Mmm.” Is all she manages and she keeps her eyes closed, not sure she can meet his eyes like this.

“They’ve, um… Another family was killed last night.” He tries to say it as gently as possible, but she shoots up in bed anyway, “The daughter was killed as well this time.”

She’s shaking her head, “No… No, that can’t be. She has to… She can’t be dead.”

“It’s probably a message to you.” Hotch says calmly.

She scoffs, “That’s great. A whole family’s dead because of me.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Oh, like hell it isn’t.” She says, climbing out of bed and pulling on her jeans. She doesn’t fully realize who she’s getting dressed in front of until Hotch tries to subtly avert his eyes. “I should’ve solved this case years ago. I’ve known it was serial for a while. I could have saved them.”

“You know as well as I do that thinking like that isn’t helpful for anyone.” He says, following her lead and getting dressed in front of her. The fact that they’re both acting like nothing out of the ordinary has taken place between them makes everything somehow even more intimate.

She sighs, “Let’s just get over there.” And she walks into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

***

April can feel the bile rising in her throat as her team mills around the crime scene. She’s crouched next to the girl, Layla, whose throat had been slit. She had also been stabbed too many times to be counted by the naked eye. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, but April could see the fear there. He had left her here, in front of her parents’ bodies, naked. “He went through the entire ritual, even the shower, then brought her back down here and killed her.”

“He’s always been very controlled and organized, but this last kill is full of rage.” Prentiss notices.

April frowns as she looks at Layla’s throat and notices that it almost seems to be bulging, “I think there’s something in her throat.” She pulls on her latex gloves while everyone crowds around her and then gently prys the girl’s jaw open. Reaching in, her fingers brush what feels like crumpled paper at the back of her throat and April pulls it out. Heart racing, she smooths it open.

Welcome home, April. I’d like to see the woman I’ve created. Arrive alone at the place where we first met, 20:00.

Everyone was silent as April read the note over and over after reading it aloud the first time. The word “alone” had been underlined several times. There was no threat attached to it, but April knew it was one all the same.

“We’ll have to call SWAT and let them know, we’ll also have to prepare the local police--”

“No.” April cut off Hotch, “You can’t be serious, he said to come alone.”

“April, his end game is clearly to kill you, if you go there by yourself you won’t come back out. And I already told you you’re not allowed to handle the arrest.”

“This is our one shot to get him,” Her eyes water, “This family died because of me--”

“Hunter--”

“Stop.” The tears fall down her cheeks and he wants to brush them away like he had the day before. “I won’t let this happen again, I’m going to see him by myself.”

“At least go in with a wire, we’ll stay a safe distance away.” Morgan bargained.

She shifts her attention to Morgan, to her team who are all looking at her sadly. Concern dripping heavy from their limbs. “No SWAT.” She insists, “Just this team.”

Hotch sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “You’re sure you can handle this?”

She wasn’t, but she nods anyway.

“Fine.” Is all he says before walking away.

***

Aaron is conscious of her eyes on him as he helps her put the wire on, “You steer the conversation away from yourself when you’re in there. Don’t let your guard down for a second. He’s going to try to get in your head, blame you for what he’s done. Don’t let him, just feed his ego and then call us when you’ve got him. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

He finishes putting the wire on and leans away from her in the surveillance van, “I can go in with you.” He says, giving it one last shot.

“No.”

He nods resolutely, “Promise me you’ll walk out of there alive.” She avoids meeting his eyes, “April.”

Finally she locks her eyes to his, “I’m scared.” She says, and her voice shakes.

It’s the first time he’s heard her admit it. He’d known she felt it, but she’d never admitted it. “Listen to me.” He says firmly, “You are not the twelve year old girl he knew. You’re stronger than him. You can do this.”

She takes a deep breath and nods, moving around him to exit the van.

“Be careful.” He says one last time and he thinks maybe she’s aware of just how worried he is about her, his eyes full of concern.

She gives him a small smile before turning away and walking down the street, rounding the last block to her childhood home, the house she hadn’t entered again since the murders. The town was small and since everyone knew what had happened there, it had never been sold.

April stands just outside the house for a minute, hand hovering just above her gun, trying to get both hands to stop shaking. Hotch believes in you. She reminds herself, recalling his words in the van. She can do this.

She’d been avoiding thinking about all his touches in the last few days. The way his rough, callused fingers felt so gentle on her face when she cried. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her in sleep, almost protectively. The way when he woke to answer his phone this morning he had absently stroked her shoulder. Did they mean anything to him or was he just an overworked, touch starved man, desperate for any sort of attention, even from her.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she headed for the door, raising her gun as she approached. The door was already slightly ajar and she pushed it lightly with the pads of her fingers. Carefully, she cleared each room, heart ricocheting against her rib cage, though she already knew where he’d be waiting for her.

After they had found the last family, Garcia had been able to ID the killer based on the sketch and the tattoo as Allen Grey. He had the usual tough past, abusive father and mother, grew up in poverty. His parents died when he was still young and his older sister was left to take care of him, and she then continued the cycle of abuse, escalating to sexual assault. It explained the mercy for the young boys and torture of the eldest daughters, but April couldn’t bring herself to feel sympathy for him.

She stood at the top of the basement stairs, could already see the lights on down there and could hear Madonna’s Like a Virgin playing on vinyl. April hated the way her body reacted, the way everything in her was telling her to run. She was a federal agent for Christ’s sake, she took down killers like this one all the time. He was no different, she tried to assure herself, he was just like the rest. And then she steeled herself, brought her gun back up in front of her at eye level, and began descending the stairs.

“There you are! Welcome home, April!” Allen says cheerfully as you point the gun at him, “Now, now, come on, I don’t have a weapon,” He raises his hands, “Why don’t you holster that gun, Agent Hunter.” He had an arrogant smirk on his face.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes and her finger flexed on and off the trigger, wanting so bad to just pull it and be done with it. But she knew her team was listening and this was exactly why Hotch hadn’t wanted her in the field for this. She lowered her weapon and put it back in her holster.

“That’s better. Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestured to the worn out table and chairs, “Let’s have a drink. Talk.”

She swallowed thickly, “No thank you.” She managed.

“No, come on now, April. We have to catch up!”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He smiles at her again and comes closer to her. Slowly, he pulls a knife out of his pocket and brings it up for her to see. She balks, but he quickly grabs her from the back of her neck to keep her steady and runs the knife gently over her face. “You were always so clever, April.” She keeps eye contact with him, doing her best not to show any fear. “So pretty and smart. I only followed you, after, you know? You were… number two, I believe. I chased the high I got with you with everyone after, but none of them were the same.”

“Is that why you stopped for a while after the fourth family?”

He nods, “Like I said, you were always so smart. And then I saw how you became obsessed with people like me, went to college to study criminal justice, always thinking about me. Joined the FBI because you were so obsessed with me, weren’t you, little April?”

She wanted to spit in his face, but she remembered what Hotch said about feeding into his ego, “They say you never forget your first.” She says cooly, almost seductively.

It works, an arrogant smile twists its way up his face and he pockets the knife. “All I ever wanted was to find you,” She says, slipping into character, “See those blue eyes again. I dream about them every night.” None of these statements are lies, but the tone she takes when delivering them, the sweetness she adds to it, the act she puts on makes bile rise in her own throat.

“I knew it.” He says, looking at her with newfound desire, “We’re soulmates, you know?” His words are gentle, but he grips her by the hair again and pulls, exposing her neck. “Let’s run away together, baby.”

“Okay.” She says softly, “I’m ready.”

Hotch is already ordering the team to go in, jumping out of the back of the van with Morgan. Through his earpiece, he listens closely to you. He can hear your fear in the way you’re breathing, but he’s not sure Allen is picking it up from you.

When she agrees to go with him, he spins her and shoves her against a wall, her head painfully bouncing off the cement. He laughs as she winces and then leans in to kiss her throat, “Are you going to tell your team to leave us alone?” He reaches under her shirt where the wire is and yanks it off her. “April, April, April. My clever, clever girl. You had to know I would have expected you not to come by yourself.”

He pushes himself off her and walks to the table, reaching under it and pulling out a gun that he had taped there earlier.

April’s jaw tenses as he raises the gun to point it at her head, “You won’t kill me.” She says smoothly, though she’s not sure she believes it herself.

“No,” He cocks the gun and turns slightly to aim towards the doorway, “But if Aaron Hotchner walks through that doorway I’ll kill him.”

She does her best to betray nothing, but a muscle in her jaw jumps involuntarily and he narrows his eyes at her, “Yeah, I thought you liked him.”

“I care about everyone on my team.” She says stiffly.

He shakes his head, “No. Don’t forget April, I’ve been watching you. I know your weaknesses as I’m sure you know mine and the past few days here I’ve noticed the way you look at Agent Hotchner when you think he’s not looking. But he always notices because he’s always aware of you, even when he tries his hardest not to be. So, April, I’ll give you one chance,” He hands the wire back over to her, “Tell Aaron to back off.”

Reluctantly, she takes the wire from him. “Hotch,” She breathes, “Stand down.”

Hotch holds a hand up to the team on the outside, signaling them to stand down, though he can barely hear past the roaring in his ears.

“There,” Her voice comes in his earpiece again, “Are you happy now?”

“I’ll be happy when he hears me kill you and knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it.”

“I thought we were running away together.”

“You think I can’t tell when you’re playing me?”

“No, I know you can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Something in April had unlocked when Allen threatened Hotch. Threatened her team. And she knew Hotch could hear them and though she had told him to stand down, he was trying to figure out another way to get to her. He wouldn’t stop until she was out of there, whether it ended with both her and Allen in body bags or Allen in cuffs. But she wouldn’t let it come to that.

“Since you’ve been watching me my whole life, you know the entire town thought I killed my own family and that I lied about the whole thing. Do you know why they thought that? Because they saw in me what my team sees in people like you.” She walks up to him, and though every instinct screams to run, she instead places a hand on his chest, “That night… you made me into you. So no, Allen,” It’s the first time she uses his name and she relishes the shock that lights in his eyes, “You can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Capitalizing on his surprise, she disarms him the way Morgan has drilled into her over and over, quickly slamming his wrist into the nearest surface and catching the gun when he releases his grip. Faster, she takes a step back from him and draws her gun as well, now pointing two weapons at him, “And I think you’ve overplayed your hand, babe.”

He raises his hands and now there’s genuine fear in his eyes, “April--”

“I’d like you to very slowly remove the knife from your pocket and toss it to the floor and if you even think about launching it at me, just know that I am a very good shot and I have been dreaming about killing you every day since I was twelve, don’t tempt me.” Her voice shakes, but this time not from fear, but from anger that she’d harbored close to her chest since the man who stood in front of her stole everything from her.

As Allen slowly does as he’s told, April hears footsteps on the stairs and is relieved when she spots another gun trained on Allen in her peripheral. Morgan begins to walk to Allen, but April stops him, “No.” She says, “I want to do it.”

He nods and redraws his gun, backing away. She holsters her own weapon and hands Allen’s gun back to Hotch without looking at him. Drawing cuffs from her pocket, she walks behind Allen who has managed to get a smirk back on his face. The sight breaks something in her and she roughly shoves him against the wall, feeling satisfaction at his grunt of pain when his face collides with the cement. She tightens the cuffs a bit more than necessary and begins stating his rights to him as she marches him up the stairs.

“I’m going to be a legend, you know? They’ll make all these dateline documentaries about me and the families I’ve killed.” He’s smiling still as April shoves him in the backseat of Billy’s police car. She’s trying not to think about the fact that he showed up here.

“Prisoners don’t look too fondly on those among them who kill and rape children, Allen, and I’m going to make sure that whatever cell block you rot in knows exactly what you’ve done. Have a nice life.” And she slams the car door.

Billy’s watching her as she does so, “I’m sorry.” He says simply.

April sighs, “I don’t care.” She says without looking at him and then walks away.

Hotch is watching her, arms crossed and frowning deeply. She stops in front of him, tilting her head to the side and noticing the concern written all over his face as he sizes her up, “Thank you for backing off when I asked you to. I know that was hard for you.”

He simply pushes himself off the car that he was leaning against and pulls her to his chest. She feels surprised for a moment, but then wraps her arms around his waist in return, breathing him in, focusing on his touch rather than Allen’s. And when the sobs begin to wrack her body, he just holds her tighter. He knows the rest of the team is watching and maybe he’ll have to explain this later, the way he rests his head on top of hers to reassure himself as much as her, but he doesn’t much care. He’d been fairly certain she was going to die in there and he’d never have the chance to tell her how he really felt.

Hotch drives back to the hotel with her sleeping in the passenger seat. The medics had checked her out and concluded that she didn’t really have any injuries, but his heart had nearly shattered in his chest when April asked if there was any way they could refill her sleeping medication. They had been unable to, but decided to give her a few doses of ambien anyway, to last her until she could call her prescriber back in DC.

“You can take as much time off as you need when we get back.” He had said as they climbed in the SUV, his too big FBI jacket wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she immediately popped the ambien in her mouth.

“I don’t need to take time off.” Was all she said before she curled herself in a tiny ball, facing the car door, and fell asleep only minutes later.

Now, he pulled into the hotel parking lot, rain falling gently against the windows and debated whether he should wake her. “April.” He said softly, gently shaking her shoulder.

“Mmm.” She murmurs and her eyes flutter. Still straddling the line between sleep and wakefulness, seeing Hotch’s face above hers prompts a small smile. “Aaron.” She says softly and reaches her hand up to touch his face.

Hearing her use his first name so tenderly sends a jolt through him, but he reminds himself that she’s sedated, albeit lightly, from the ambien. “Do you think you can walk up to the hotel room?”

She nods sleepily and he quickly gets out of the car to help her out of the other side, pulling the hood of his jacket over her head to shield her from the rain. She walks slowly because of the drug, but he doesn’t mind. And when she slides her hand down to his to intertwine their fingers, he doesn’t mind that either. When they get to the hotel room she wordlessly strips down to her underwear and climbs into bed.

He stares at her for a while, unsure if she would want him in the bed or not, and decides it’ll be safest to sleep on the couch. He begins taking some cushions off the couch when he hears her voice, “Aaron?” There was his name again. He wasn’t sure why hearing her say it had him coming undone, but he wanted her to repeat it over and over again.

“Yes?”

“Why won’t you come to bed?”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times before responding, “I was going to sleep on the couch.” She’s quiet for too long and he thinks she must’ve fallen asleep so he turns back to the couch.

“I don’t want to sleep alone.” Her voice is so quiet, he wonders if he imagined it. But when he turns back to the bed, she’s watching him, eyes full of sadness and what he thinks might also be desire. He can’t say no to her. She continues watching him as he takes off his clothes, first unbuttoning his shirt. She watches him carefully, no traces of shyness and he tries his best not to let on the way her attention affects him. He undoes his belt buckle and then pulls off his pants before walking to the bed, pushing the sheets aside, and climbing in.

She turns to him and brings their faces close enough that just another inch would have them rubbing noses together. “Why have you been so nice to me this whole case?”

It’s not what he was expecting her to say and he frowns, “It was a tough case for you that brought back a lot of trauma, why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

She shrugs, “I know you’ve never liked me the way you like the rest of the team--”

“That’s not true--”

“Aaron.” He wonders if maybe she’s caught on to the way saying his name affects him as his mouth closes immediately, “I’m not stupid, I haven’t been here nearly as long as the others and I certainly never open myself up in front of them the way the rest of you do. It’s not anyone’s fault, I’m just… Not a part of the family. But this case… You treated me the way you would treat Reid, JJ, Morgan, Prentiss… Any of them. Why?”

“The second you join this team you’re a part of this family and I’m sorry we made you feel otherwise.”

She rolls her eyes and turns her head to look at the ceiling, “Would you have shared a bed with any of them?”

Heat floods his face and he’s glad she’s not looking at him. “No.” He says and he’s sure his voice, thick with desire has betrayed him.

But April only nods, still staring at the ceiling, “Is it just because you’re lonely?”

It’s then that he realizes what she’s getting at. He hears the vulnerability in her voice, the fear there. She thinks she’s not good enough for him and it breaks his heart even further. “April, look at me.” She manages to turn her head to him and her eyes are glassy. “You have shown the last few days how incredibly resilient, intelligent, and just amazing you are. You can’t really think that the only reason I keep reaching for you is because I’m lonely.”

She smiles sadly, “You wouldn’t be the first.”

A lesser man would’ve taken this personally, perhaps groan about how she could think so little of him, but Aaron was different. He understood what she’d been through, that he could have been Superman himself and she’d still have her doubts.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to prove it to you.”

She turns her head back to him and frowns, a trace of amusement on her face, “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Hesitantly, he reaches out and strokes a thumb across her cheek, “I’d like to start by just holding you tonight, if that’s alright.”

She closes her eyes at his touch, nuzzling her face further into his palm and he melts. “I’d like that.” She says softly.

So he gently wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him. Her little sigh of contentment as she settles against his chest is almost too much for him to take. “Aaron?” She says after he's spent a few moments just listening to her heartbeat.

“Hm?”

“You’re the only man I’ve ever felt truly safe around.”

He feels her sadness then and he tightens his grip around her to convey that he’s sorry she feels that way, but he’s grateful for her trust. They fall asleep like that and neither attempt to move away from the other the entire night.

***

“So this is a date.” It had been about two months since they had gotten back from Maine and Aaron had been nothing but a gentleman to her. So much so, in fact, that at some points she thought he was no longer interested in her.

He chuckles, “It’s not a date. We’re meeting the team.”

“Yes, but you’re taking me,” April grins, linking her arm through his as they walk towards the bar, “So it’s a date.”

“If it was a date I would’ve done this--” Hotch spins her in front of him and abruptly kisses her. At first, she freezes, but when he gently nips at her bottom lip she moans slightly, kissing him back. As sudden as it began, it ends and Aaron is staring at her with a look of such arrogant satisfaction she wants to slap him.

“Okay, so it is a date.” She murmurs quietly as Aaron steps around her and walks away, “I knew it.”

When Aaron opens the door to the bar for her, he casually slips his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. He notes her questioning look from the corner of his eye, but just squeezes her hand in response. And instead of detaching herself from him when the team notes their arrival, she squeezes his hand in return, even when the relentless teasing from the team commences.

Aaron only slips away from her to go get them drinks and even then she looks back for him. It’s the most unsure of herself he’s ever seen her and it only broadens his grin.

“You finally did it, eh? Attaboy, Aaron.” Rossi’s already at the bar, a whiskey in hand and another on the bar that he slides to Aaron. He takes it and then orders April a gin and tonic.

“It’s just one date, Rossi. She’s still… hesitant.”

“She doesn’t look hesitant,” Rossi says, looking over his shoulder, “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you walked away from her.”

Aaron smirks, “Yes, well, I’ve discovered playing hard to get is very effective with her.” He tips the bartender and clinks his glass with Rossi before walking back over to April. When he hands her the drink, she seems to shrink into his side, taking larger gulps of her drink than he thought she should.

“Slow down,” He plucks the drink from her hand and places it on a nearby table, “Why are you so nervous?”

“Look at all of them just staring at us, I feel pressured.”

“Pressured into what, being with me?”

“Aaron, no,” She places a hand on his arm, sensing the insecurity rising in him, “I want to be with you.”

“Then what?”

She shrugs and reaches for her drink again, but Aaron covers her hand before she can, clearly expecting an answer from her. She sighs and looks up at him, “I feel pressure to be perfect because I can see on their faces how much they love you and I don’t want to fuck this up and then you all hate me because I wasn’t good enough for you.” It all comes out in a rush and she feels breathless after admitting it, her cheeks reddening as he lifts his hand, allowing her to reach for her drink.

“April, they like you just as much as they like me.” She rolls her eyes and he reaches out to tip her chin up gently with his fingers, “You could never mess this up.”

“I messed it up with Billy.”

He drops his hand, unable to hide the annoyance and jealousy on his face at the mention of Billy, “Billy was an immature boy who didn’t know how to treat you anyway.”

She smirks, “And you’re a big strong man who can sweep me off my feet at a moment’s notice?” He manages the smallest of smiles as a slow song starts playing, “Come on, Hotchner. Ask me to dance.”

“You want to dance in front of the team?”

“Well you brought me here to show me off, didn’t you?” He gives her a look like he’s offended she would even think so and she laughs, “Please?” She pouts, “Billy would dance with me if he were here.” She adds teasingly, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Hotch shakes his head at her, but he’s grinning, “You love causing trouble, don’t you?” And she laughs in response as he takes her hand and pulls her to the dance floor, letting his left hand rest gently on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers.

He twirls her around the room and with the whole team watching, he kisses her as the song ends. Their lips worked together to teach each other their own dance and for a moment, it’s just the two of them, until the rest of the team starts jeering and April pulls away, her face flushed. Aaron is still looking at her, smiling and she reaches up with her thumb to swipe at his mouth, “I got some lipstick on you.” She says quietly.

“Can I take you home?” He says finally and his voice is husky and full of want.

She wonders if he’s aware of how alluring the sound of his voice is. “Yeah.” She responds swallowing.

He leads her out of the bar after much protesting from the rest of the team, but all he wants and needs is to get April, April who’s smiling at him from ear to ear, home and in bed with him. They settle into their new relationship with ease, the team noting that they’d never seen either of them smile so much and all of April’s fears and insecurities melted away day by day.

As long as her unit chief quietly placed a coffee on her desk every morning with a sweet note attached to it, she figured she could overcome anything.