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tarjapearce · 4 months

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Crimson Crown (Pt. 8)

Cover made by the amazing @pinkiemme ~

WARNING: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mild fluff, Angst, canon character death, violence, graphic depictions of violence, heartbreak, mild depictions of mental breakdowns, relationship setbacks, Dark Miguel.

Summary: You meet Dana.

A/N: Yeh, I'm nervous about this one jsksj. Hope you like ❤️. Dana's outfit inspired in this

The graying skies above prevented the sun's warmth to reach your window and your body. Stony floor colder than usual, just like your chambers.

A distant and far rumble echoed in the sky, probably a stray island would suffer the drench, after all, weather in Arachne varied depending on it's mood.

The light filtering through your window was dim, gloomy, like a tragedy happened somewhere and the sky preferred to mourn elsewhere.

But the thought of the king and the previous events made your heart warm, shimmy with joy and ease. Some progress at last.

Your eyes closed at the sudden image of him. His smile was captivating, his touch so gentle and knowing that only you had achieved the historical event of luring him out the castle to rest, made your chest swell in pride.

You didn't waste time into writing a new entry in your diary, it had been a while since you scribbled your memories and main events within the castle. Too focused in enjoying the king's company and blooming affection.

An excited novice was nothing compared to how your head felt. Despite the sky's blue mood, yours were in high spirits. You'd start your first ever lessons with your new students back in the lab. Your knowledge on Arachne's medicine would also be put to test.

After having your fill of writing, you got ready for the day. A quick and simple breakfast was brought and you ate, to then leave for your lab.

People greeted your way, bowed or gave a quick smile before entering your favorite play room. As usual, the kettle was put to boil, some roses were minced along rosemary.

While the water boiled, you prepared the station by organizing the canisters, preparing the herbs and ingredients ahead you'd be using. A smile crept in your lips at the familiriaty of the situation.

It was exactly like home where you'd prepare everything ahead to welcome the new students of the Thelerian Medicine Academy. Even though the Queen was the main master, you also taught the basics, but eventually, you earned your title as medical master with own merits.

Surgeries were delicate, and even though not many could be saved, your heart rested knowing that you had tried your best in making the patient's last moments as comfortable as possible.

Thoughts however were interrupted by the heavy steps and armor clinking you knew by heart at this point. Heartbeats increased tenfold as he was now next to you, with a pleased smile at seeing the class being prepared

"Good morning, Princesa."

The fragrant smell of the tea tickled his nose, you poured two cups and offered one to him, just like with Peter.

"Good morning, my lord. Here."

Miguel took the cup with no hesitation, eyed the liquid and he drank the tea before you could even add honey to it. But it also taught you a little thing from him. He wasn't much of a sweet tooth.

"What was that?"

"A drink to give you an energy boost."

His nose flared an airy chuckle while putting the cup on the table and take a good look at you.

"Join me at lunch."

One of your brows quirked and he cleared his throat, "Please."

"Of course."

With a smile you lit the flame from a canister as he watched your every move.

"Any dish you'd like to indulge?"

"That fish stew was tasty. Would it be too capricious of me to ask for more potatos in it?"

Miguel could only soften his smile at the simple petition.

"I'll take my guess and say you'd like some tarts for dessert."

You gave the pestle and the mortar to him while adding some herbs in the stony recipient, urging him to try his grinding skills.

"You're not wrong. Have you drank your daily dosis of caffeine yet?"

It pleased him greatly to see you were as observant as he was.

"Just did, yeah."

"Good"

A bashful smile spreaded through your lips as you took his hand to help him hold the pestle correctly.

"Like that. Keep going."

"Im not a complete useless on this, you know?" A playful smile came on your lips as one of your hands rested in his bicep.

"Never thought of it, my lord."

"Please, call me Miguel."

"I'm still getting used to call you such ways."

He could feel the warmth irradiating from your body as you grabbed the leather gloves in front of him. Miguel stopped grinding to take a glimpse of you. Eyes raking the slope of your jaw, your neck but they returned for the lips. A little rouge tainted on them.

He swallowed and finished grinding the herbs to a pulp. There was a throat rasping that had you both turning heads towards the entrance. It was Jessica, mustering all her strenght to not smirk at what she had been witnessing for the past minutes.

"The apprentices are here, your highness."

Jessica bowed and let the group in, a total of eight were under your command. None of them passing the seventeens. Four girls and four boys, ready to start their lessons.

All of them bowed upon seeing Miguel and you.

" They've been carefully selected to be under your wing, Princesa. I trust they'll seize the chance."

A subtle Do not disappoint me from Miguel. He took your hand and kissed the back of your palm, earning a coy smile from the girls watching.

"I'll see you at lunch."

"I'll be there, Miguel."

His heart skipped a beat or two before disappearing with a Jessica following him, trying her absolute best to not laugh at his scowling and subtle flushed cheeks.

"Shut up."

Jessica could only giggle to herself, pushing the tease a bit too far before she cleared her throat.

"Of course, Miguel."

The king just gave a vexed grunt as his eyes rolled to a side. Peter greeted him on the way, ready to guard your morning.

The lessons had advanced without a hitch, each of your students seemed deft enough in different areas, some knew the basics of basics, others had no idea on the tools you used. Imported Thelerian equipment that surprisingly was even more effective than the machinery doctors used in Arachne.

The morning was spent teaching away, taking small breaks for snacks and cleaning up. Finally around midday, the class was wrapped up.

Hunger was second to the need of seeing him once more. So your steps hurried, but a voice behind you prevented your feet from going further.

"Your majesty! Wait!"

A servant approached to deliver a message

"My lady awaits for your presence in the east part of the rose garden."

Before you could even ask who the mysterious lady was, the letter you previously received in your room came to mind. Hoping it would be a quick meeting since lunch with Miguel approached.

Instead of going straight to the shortcut that would lead to the dining hall, you turned left, going for the gardens.

A chilling gust of wind hit your face, stopping for a minute before resuming your steps for the encounter. All you now knew it was a lady.

Clouds followed you, their graying intensifying, keeping all sunshine to themselves, letting everything underneath to drown in cold blues and greys. A chill ran down your spine the more you ventured within the gardens.

You've only been on the outer sides and north part of them, easily mistaken by a maze if one didn't know where to go.

Dread crept up in your chest upon seeing a different side of the usual beauty. Thick thorns spreaded to your left and right, adorning the dull and rusty fences that did a poor job in keeping them inside. It reminded you like the thorns you initially saw back when entering Arachne for the first time.

Ever sharp and ready to draw blood to anyone that dared to subdue them. The humid and moldy smell assaulted your senses with such violence you had to smell your clothed wrist to ease the burn in your nose.

New aromas tried to get in your lungs, rotten wood, stilted water on a nearby fountain, weeds and twigs growing from the floor. Some stuck in the hem of your dress, as if preventing you from going further. Air leaving a weird taste in your mouth. Your skin crawled.

Carefully, your pried yourself away to finally arrive to a completely different milieu.

Red roses grew along the thorns that had claimed every wall they could spread to. Thickets had been relatively trimmed to give them a less unkempt look, each to the entrance of a new section of the garden. Directly facing Miguel's war room.

A room only the council, his soldiers and himself had access to. And now you as well.

Eyes ventured in the neatly arranged table before you. Pastries you've had a glimpse of back in the city, some snacks and two goblets placed on each side of the table, to finally land on a beautiful woman.

Dressed in red velvet and fine linens, hair impeccably combed in a short bob under the pearl-rimmed gable hood ontop of her head. Golden earrings and chains around her neck. A noble.

Her pretty smile only widened yet it did not reach her blue eyes.

"Your majesty."

She gave a brief bow, which you returned. Au contraire of her, you were donned with a much simple and modest suit. The navy blue bodice had some splotches of dust and herbs, skirt lacking with the usual fluff of the farthingale underneath. Headdress with a softer shape covering your head and loose braid.

Yet, the Blanchard family ring on your left hand screamed what this lady attempted to emulate. Power.

Blue irises raked over your face and it made her chuckle. Your whole body tensed, as your hands rested before you.

"My apologies for showing up like this."

"By all means, teaching the future medics of Arachne must be quite the feat. Please, let's have a seat."

The table was spacious enough to have two people, yet sufficiently small to be an arms away from eachother. You took a seat before her. Hubris and luxury exuded from every pore of the lady in red.

"My name is Dana D'Angelo, your majesty. A pleasure to finally meet you in the flesh."

"Nice to meet you, my lady."

Oh how her rotten heart loved when the ones in the top called her that. And coming from you made it all the better. It gave her a glimpse of what her life as a queen could be.

"I've heard that it was your first class today."

"It was, yes. The king was generous to provide me such gift."

"Oh, I bet. He loves gifting things to those he considers equals."

You blinked at her words as Dana drank from her goblet, but her gaze always remained in you. You swallowed, uncomfortable.

Scrutinized was a measly thing. Her stare felt like yanking the outer layers of yourself with the intent to leave your soul bare.

"You seem to know him."

Your eyes remained soft yet guarded, focused in her.

"Of course. I've known Miguel ever since he was eighteen. I've seen his progress through the years, and of course I am proud of the man he has turned into."

"Quite noble of you to support him, my lady. The king needs all the help possible."

Dana nodded, pleased, "In that you're absolutely right, your highness. I'm sure you've already met my father, Baron Darko."

You nodded solemnly, hands resting ontop of the table. Even though the food looked appealing, you didn't take a bite. In fact the first thing you did while taking a seat was to discreetly take a whiff of it. It was days old at much, and the pastries oozed with a sour scent. but in Dana's plate was all freshly made.

"I have."

"My apologies for his behavior. Even though the times have changed, he remains closed off to new perspectives, your highness."

"It's natural to fear or feel discomfort towards the unknown, Lady Dana."

"Still, my father gets pride into gushing about his knowledge in Arachne. But, since given you are the future queen of Arachne, and Theleria as well, I wanted to know, do you feel ready for such duties?"

"Ruling a kingdom is far from easy, so I will say, No. I am not. At least not completely. If you were in my place, what would you believe?"

"I am."

Your brow twitched discreetly, the praising of course always meant something behind. And the speed she answered was as if she had been waiting for that question forever.

"Care to elaborate why, besides being a native of Arachne and knowing the king for ages?"

"Beg your pardon?" Dana's tone was expected, yet the impervious demeanor of your mother that rubbed on you was finally paying off. That didn't mean that you actually enjoyed the route the conversation was taking. In fact, dread was juggling with your heart.

"Let me rephrase the question, my lady. What is your vision for Arachne?"

"Clearly one where Arachne can be the most feared kingdom, as it always has."

"I see."

"If it wasn't for that soft voice of yours, I'd dare to say you sound disappointed."

"At all, visions of a kingdom may vary. I respect your thoughts."

Dana's eyes narrowed in the slightest as she taunted "Even though they may differ from yours?"

"Indeed. That's what tolerance is about."

Miguel was holding a meeting with Peter, who was called for a debrief after the lessons ended. Jessica, Ben and Hobie were called to the room along Gabriel.

The latter however sat nearby the window and for a moment, spaced out. Far too interested in the scenery before him than going over and over the routes he knew by heart at this point. Meeting was quick.

However, the spot of red focused all his attention to it. Green eyes widened upon seeing you and Dana together.

"Shit"

Everyone looked at his way, specially Miguel that glowered as Gabriel pulled him towards the window. The king was about to land a hit on his younger brother but quickly understood the message upon seeing you.

"Mierda..." He bolted off the room, Peter trailed after him, while Jessica came to the window. A hand going at her mouth.

"As much as I'd love continue talking, I believe it's time for this claptrap to end, my lady."

"I know, you are a busy woman, your majesty. I believe I heard you have a lunch with the king?"

"You seem to be quite interested in my affairs. I don't know whether to feel alarmed or flattered that you use your spare time to know about my whereabouts."

Dana stood with a discreet huff and roll of her eyes, and you followed. Her gaze met your beautiful poker face.

"Don't feel flattered, princess. I assure you, I spend my time in more creative and productive ways, and even better with the right company."

"Would you like to be less cryptic and go straight at your motives? I am not one for indulging gossips or silly talks."

"Don't worry, your highness. As the king's main mistress I also have a schedule to follow."

You swallowed hard the upcoming knot in your throat, breath stopping for a second.

Her rotten heart gave a derisive laugh inside upon seeing the cracks in your stony demeanor. But she had to give you something, you didn't break easily.

Although it was fun to see your eyes getting bloodshot from the upcoming cry, you locked up the tears and bit the insides of your cheek with such force you tasted blood, but even so, it was a better taste than bile's sourness rising in the back of your throat.

Heart beating miles per second, menacing to stop at any moment. It didn't help that the crows flapped away out of nowhere, carrying their omens and allegedly bad luck elsewhere.

"Then, I must leave you, madam."

You bowed and gathered your skirt to walk away but Dana was set into seeing your tears fall. The hurried steps from where you came only approached, nearly galloping in your direction.

"I will produce him a heir. I... We've been trying, even before you came."

"Then, I bid you both good luck. Rose tea is a great ally for fertility. Anything else you'd like to add?"

"My love for him is unfathomable, your majesty."

At this point her words felt like mere taunts that were escalating to a tantrum upon seeing you somewhat composed.

"That is clear. Too bad you're too much of a coward to do this without him present so he can know."

Dana frowned, "Oh, he knows. But he is too busy playing the fool with you. He might marry you, but his heart is always with me."

"I don't fight over simple trivialities, madam, much less over men. What you do with the king is none of my business, but I must warn you, once I become a queen, stay away from my affairs. Don't force me to go back to my kingdom's old ways"

"Is that a threat, Princess?"

"A promise, madam."

Dana scoffed upon seeing Miguel's head peeking over the corner.

"A pleasure to meet you, your highness."

She didn't get what she initially wanted but was satisfied of your reaction. Her plan was fruitful enough to leave you on your own with the spiraling and violent thoughts tearing your mind and heart apart.

A loud rumble drowned the steps of Miguel and Peter. Peter looked for Dana, but she was nowhere to be found, her escape was flawless. But what use would it be to find her when the damage had already been done?

What was left to fix where all you had left were ruins after that harrowing hurricane of a woman trampled on your hopes and evolving feelings towards a man you thought different from what you knew?

You saw the obsidian in his shoes before your form, his hands about to take a hold of your face to make you look at him, but instinctively you pushed it away. It wasn't a hard slap, nor a feeble one.

Miguel's heart stopped as his eyes narrowed, feeling the cutting of your words in the shape of a dagger, slicing and twisting inside his already frail heart.

"I beg you. Don't touch me."

"Princesa..."

His voice barely a whisper, and you looked at him. And God, he wished that you didn't.

For once Miguel wished to be blind, to be deaf, so he couldn't see the heartbreak in your eyes. So he couldn't hear such words that had his heart beating so painfully his breathings hitched. For once, the genius of a man, the ruthless sovereign, The Red King, was at lost on what to do and feel.

Your eyes said it all.

Liar

He approached and you stepped back. He swallowed. If sadness, anger and disappointment could be a person, you'd be the perfect embodiment of such traits.

You disgust me.

Each of your hypothetical words only added another hefty stone on his frail self control. Eyes cold, devoid of all the kindness and admiration he secretly longed to see everytime you were around him. Nothing in them. Not even hatred.

He was sure you believed him so unworthy of anything, even negatives.

He had experienced the many different looks their enemies seized him with, but yours obliterated and trampled all strength with such easiness that had his hands shaky and his lips dry with a feeling he thought long forgotten. Hopelessness.

"I forgot this is all a political game. Forgive my naivety, ser. I got too carried away."

"Please, could you list-"

"Pardon if I misunderstood your hospitality customs for something else. Won't happen again."

You bowed to him, letting a lone tear to break at his feet, to then turn around and walk away, disappearing from his sight. All he could do was watch.

No, no.

The sky finally broke, hitting him remorselessly with each drop, as a punishment and he did nothing but to accept it.

Your steps guided you aimlessly through the halls of the castle. Despite the need of running back to your room was overwhelming, you took the time to wander through. Numbness was too comfortable on your brain to let go.

And it was only when you passed the lab, that an acute pang in your chest made itself known. Everything reminded you of him.

His damned smile, his kindness, everything had been a lie. Was it? You didn't know what to believe anymore. Yet none other than yourself popped in your mind as the only culprit.

Always fantasious, inlove with tales that were borderline too good to be true. Too sweet to be savoured and too fantastic to happen in real life.

Little it mattered now when the lover's slate was wiped clean, reducing you as a mere pawn to secure your kingdom's safety. Like it was meant to be since the beginning yet you had dared to believe everything would be better. Different.

Peter huffed behind you, catching his breath. But you didn't want him around, in fact the only company you wanted was yourself and your pen and papers.

"Y-Your Highness."

"I wish to be alone until further notice, ser"

"You know I can't do that. As much as I'd like to leave you on your own, I can't. It's my duty to protect you."

"You're certainly have failed."

You heaved as shoulders slumped. Peter frowned as his eyes averted from your form.

"I didn't mean to... Those words are more to myself than you. Forgive me to drag you to this."

Your head shook while taking a sheet of paper.

"I'm still looking for Dana. The king-"

"Is a liar."

"No, your highness, that's not-"

"My father has whores whenever he likes. It's not-" You bit your tongue for a moment, trying to get your voice steady, "He's not a saint. He's stupid and selfish to rather a whore's company than my own mother, but at least, ser Peter, he's open about it."

Peter could only cast his eyes away, he knew you were right. How could he rebut to that, much more when he experienced first hand the disgust and the outcome of what a mistress could do? He simply couldn't.

"He doesn't hide who he is."

"Remember the talk we had about the mistress looking for him-"

"Again, why keeping them? Am... Am I not enough?"

Oh Miguel, you fucking idiot...

"Maybe I never was. Please close the door when you leave. I wish to be alone."

Peter only bowed to you and left. And when the final click of the door echoed in the cold room, the dam in your tears was let loose. Allowing you to finally break with a quiet whimper.

The weight of initial loneliness, being homesick and now this, finally dropped on your shoulders like ton of bricks. Each that fell on your back made sure to break your weary bones further.

Whatever Dana had plotted was achieved. If her intention was to hurt, it was granted with flying colors. She had won, you weren't a sore loser, you knew when to admit defeat and step aside.

But one thing was true. You felt dirty.

You removed your clothes in a haste and got in the tub, scrubbing yourself until your skin stung, trying to erase any trace of him. The same lips that had kissed you, had kissed her. The same hands that touched you, had touched her. Probably in places that made you stomach revolt at the thought.

But no matter how much you scrubbed or bruised your skin, he still remained there. Forever etched in your skin, like an invisible tattoo only you were able to see. Your own Cain mark.

Even though your hands stung and bled around some places in the knuckles, you still sat before the desk and wrote. And wrote, until your tears blended with the ink, and you tore the pages to start over.

How much you longed for an embrace that didn't feel rehearsed or for pity. For some comforting words that only tipped the balance to gain some favor, you missed your mother.

If he keeps causing you pain, return home. We'll find a solution.

Of course. You could always go back home. It wouldn't be a failure. You had tried your absolute best, and still it wasn't enough.

A new sheet of paper was brought, words already flowing along the ink.

You were going home.

Peter had to drag him inside, after the rain started, armor heavier than usual but no physical weight could be compared to his mind's.

It all had happened so quietly and quickly, that the wasn't ready for such impact, much less the magnitude of the chaos the destructive nature of Dana left in her wake.

All of those warnings, all of those cold shoulders made his burdens light as a feather. Their unavoidable load finally crushing him against the ground, remorselessly.

His breeches were soaked but even so, it was the only piece of clothes remaining in him, as his armor and wet clothes laid on the floor in a forlorn trail. He approached the fire, to make some warmth to seep in back to his body.

The quiet click of his door, didn't move him from the spot, instead he kept glued in his stance. The glow of the fire shone over his skin, an ominous glow that made him rekindle his old battles, his old ways.

Lukewarm arms embraced his back, hands hung lazily over the hem of his breeches. Soft lips kissed his back in a poor attempt to return some of the missing and much needed heat.

His lip twitched when Dana grunted, pleased that he didn't budge.

"What did you say to the Princess?"

Dana stopped for a second, bold hand going inside the hem. Her skin crawled upon feeling the trimmed curls of his pubis. Miguel didn't twitch. Anger was simmering so slow that his body begun warming up on its own. Dana's ministrations were useless and irritating at best.

"Just a few little things about us. And she basically told me that you were mine to keep. That she didn't fight over men."

Miguel only hummed in response. He felt her hands touching him, in the same way she used to console him when a meeting had gone sour. He always welcomed her.

Young, stupid and raging in hormones, that if it wasn't for him to secretly feeding Dana any herb considered a contraceptive and low dosages of poison, he'd probably be over his third child. But now, her touch was unrequited, and it only added fire to his already skyrocketing fury.

"Do you know what you've done, Dana?"

The mistress' strokes stopped. She knew that tone. She knew when Miguel was about to explode.

And still, she taunted "Making you completely mine?" To then step before him, crushing her chest against his, enhancing the sight of her mounds just for him. She had won.

"No, querida. Far from that."

Dana's triumphant smile faded slowly when Miguel reached for her nape, and tangled his hand on the base of her neck.

"You just sped up you own execution, Danita."

Right?

She had won, and still it was victory Miguel refused to acknowledge.

All thoughts were sapped away as Miguel pulled her by her hair roughly. Like mostly of their old games. Dana just laughed, but it quickly was replaced by a pained yelp as he slammed her against the wall.

"T-Thats not funny anymore, Miguel-" But none had prepared her for his yelling at her face

"Estúpida y maldita zorra!" (You dumb fucking bitch)

He towered easily over her, one of his hands easily enveloped her tender neck. Dana gulped and he felt the move, widening his dark smirk. It was The Red King who moved and talked. A side he only showed in battle, and his most despicable enemies.

Dana struggled to be free, fear took over as Miguel rested his forehead against hers, cold and unforgiving stare boring into her soul.

"Why are you so set into making everything I work for so damn hard?!"

"I was supposed to be the queen! You said it!"

"Oh, Danita. Did you really think I'd marry you?"

"Let me go!"

He squeezed tighter instead, silencing her pleas

"I-" She choked and tried with all her might to push him away, but this only enticed his cruelty, "I've been there for you, wasn't I?!"

Even in her suffering, she still tried to appeal to those memories that undeniably she had given him. In her delusional and entitled mind she deserved him.

"When your father and mother died, I was there! Not her! I've loved you more than anyone in this stupid castle could ever do!"

Miguel's brow quirked boredly as tears stained his hand

"I saw you getting crowned! I lost my maidenhood to you when you won your first ever b-battle!" She sputtered as Miguel squeezed tighter. Her toes barely touching the floor, "I-I wiped your tears, patched your wounds-"

"And because of that you believe you have power over me? Over my kingdom? "

His eyes twinkled in amusement as the life danced in Dana's gaze. Fear oozed from every pore at his eerie calm, yet his hands did all the talking for him. It had been ages since he didn't crush someone's throat. And even so, he wouldn't make it quick.

"You are supposed t'be mine" Dana slurred and Miguel just scoffed

"How cute and stupid for you to believe you can own me."

All his pain and rage from each of your words, turned into the vice like grip, strength leaving her the more she thrashed.

"Don't" Dana heaved and struggled to let words come out. The fear and lack of air was clouding her judgment, "D-" Don't be ungrateful-"

I was there, she mouthed but Miguel only applied more pressure into her neck. Dana kicked and whimpered weakly. The imminent end approached in a torturous slow pace. Despair and death banging at her door.

"Ungrateful? I gave you every stupid whim you asked for, gave your scum like family a position in my court when I knew they would only leech off me" He hissed while his teeth bared "Put you too many times as a priority when the kingdom was crumbling around me, and I am ungrateful?"

Dana's lids drooped, dizzy. Lips purple, like her face.

"You never did anything worthy besides being a fuck toy, darling. Why should I reward you for such thing?"

"M-Miguel-" Her hands although weakly, reached for him, but he slapped the limbs away with his free hand. Unlike you that had been kind even in your pain.

"All you had to do was listen when I told you to stay away from her, didn't I?"

"P-"

"But you love tempting the devil, don't you?"

Please

"Why didn't you listen?!"

Dana managed to mark his face a last time.

His hands squeezed until something caved under the pressure with a lurid crack. Crimson eyes stared in disgust at how the dull in Dana's gaze vanished. Hands and body stilled after an initial twitch. He let the body fall on the floor with a careless thud like the many he had ended before.

Another one for his endless tab. Regret lingered but not out of guilt, rather than not taking this matter in his hands sooner.

Adrenaline rushed through his body, his mouth gave a shaky and borderline ecstatic breath, savouring the panic for a moment. It felt like a new sort of vitamin had been injected in his heart, cause it beat with healthy and powerful pumps. A tired smile crept up his lips.

Finally.

He was free, his past has died. There was nothing to keep him bound to her. No ropes that held him back.

When the rush vanished, he called Jessica and Ben, that upon entering his chambers watched in horror at the familiar body on the ground. Grotesquely beautiful as it stared back from its spot. Death pungent in the air.

"Get rid of her" Voice dripped in disdain while he searched for a dry change of clothes.

Jessica had forgotten what was like to face him after a meaningful kill. It was this side of him that had granted him a throne and the respect of the rest of the continent.

Pleased and proud of himself for such feat, arrogance exuding from every pore, but the satisfied smile plastered all over his face was the macabre element of the equation.

Jessica had been forgetting her own participation in the slaughter. But this predicament reminded her enough that The Red King never left. That only great amounts of rage brought him back.

Ben glanced at the body as he rearranged it to be put out. The gruesome bruise in the shape of his hand was fresh on her neck, fear still etched in her features as some tears pooled in the corner of her inner lid. Ben closed her eyes, trying to give her a less haunting look.

"What about her family?"

A chill ran down Jessica's spine upon his next words.

"Wipe them all out. Except Baron Darko."

Another thing she knew too well. He was sparing him to set an example of what happens if you don't listen. His words were absolute and final.

"Burn her and give her ashes to him."

Cruel and cold Red King.

Jessica could only bow and left to get some extra help, hoping he wasn't there to stay.

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fortheloveofwonderland · 10 months

Text

In This Diary | S.R

Summary - The summer of ‘02 was supposed to be just like any summer that had come before. Spencer Reid was mostly hoping to relax before his started his new job at the Behavioural Analysis Unit in the fall. But best laid plans often go awry.

Now all these years later he’s come into possession of the diary he kept during that time and he’s forced on a trip down memory lane to a perfect Las Vegas summer in which he fell in love for the very first time. But if he’s not careful, he might allow himself to get so lost in his nostalgia he may not be able to drag himself back to the present.

A/N - this goes back and forth a lot in time, I hope it makes sense. Where there’s a page break it goes back to the present day. Based on the song In This Diary by The Ataris. Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Summer Sunshine Challenge. Thank you again @pinkiceee-prose and @andiebeaword for reading over this 🖤

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - angst with happy ending | strangers to friends to lovers | smut minors DNI

Warnings - post prison, pot smoking, virgin Spencer, slight sub! Spencer, use of “good boy”, mild praise kink (Spencer), handjob, swearing, fingering, masturbation (m), brief mention of medication but no specifics, talk of PTSS, angst, allusions to sex, brief mention of protected sex, oral (m receiving), brief mention of past addiction and Emily’s “death”.

WC - 10.3k honestly I can’t write anything short

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…

The dogeared, weathered pages told their age beneath his fingertips, speaking their tales through skin. Smudged ink seeped through the yellowing paper, penned words of a different time etched to hold their memory.

His fingers danced across them as though reading braille, trying to feel the words the way he had when he'd written them. So much time had passed, so much had changed, this book felt like it was from a different lifetime.

If he closed his eyes he could feel himself there. He could feel the way the hot Vegas sun beat down on him, causing little beads of sweat to roll down his face, feeling it tightening his skin. He could sense the pen in his hand as he scrawled down his thoughts, committing them to these pages.

“What are you doing?”

“Just writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.”

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

He could feel the gravel beneath him, hear the occasional passing vehicle on the freeway whilst hanging out at truck stops just to pass the time.

He could see fireworks illuminating the sky in desolate parking lots, hear their crackle and bang as they exploded and then disappeared.

He could hear the thrum of the eighties songs through tinny speakers, even if he never really enjoyed them. He could feel the droplets of water on his frazzled skin from the splash back of a body diving into the hotel pool which was not strictly open to the public.

It was another life, one he’d long ago left behind but still carried pieces of it with him.

I guess when it comes down to it, being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up…

“Whatcha got there?”

A voice snapped him out of his nostalgia and he quickly closed the old book and looked up from his desk. He blinked a few times to try and bring himself back to the present, back from memory lane which he’d started to get lost down.

Spencer Reid was not known to be a sentimental man, in all honesty he had few good memories from his past to be wistful over. And now was not the time to start.

Luke had an amused smirk on his lips as he looked down at the younger man and the old, tattered journal on his desk.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing.” Spencer swallowed with a shake of his head.

“Looked like a diary.” Luke’s smile grew, his intense dark eyes full of mirth. “I saw a date in the corner? August twenty ninth two thousand and two. You'd have been…”

“Twenty two. I was twenty two. The summer before I joined the BAU.�� He sighed as he spoke, not thrilled to be sharing this part of his life with Luke.

It was unfounded, given that it was probably the happiest time of his life. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t want his friends to know about it.

There was something about keeping the memory pure, not having it sullied by outsiders. That secret summer belonged only to the two people who had lived it.

“I didn't peg you for a journaler.” Luke shrugged.

“I’m not usually. I don’t really know why I kept a diary that summer.”

That wasn’t entirely true. He’d kept a record of those days in case, for whatever reason, his memory failed him. If something happened to cause his brain to forget, that was one time in his life he wanted to ensure he’d never lose.

And since his mothers diagnosis, it was an entirely real possibility that one day he may forget. There were many moments in his life he’d like to be able to neglect, his drug addiction, Gideon’s death, prison; but the summer of ‘02 was not one of them.

In truth he’d forgotten all about the journal. It wasn’t until his mothers move to DC when he’d been going through old boxes of her stuff that he’d found it.

“Can I read it?” Luke’s smile turned cheeky, he already knew what the answer would be but he was just trying his luck.

As expected, Spencer scowled, grabbing the diary and holding it close to his chest as if he believed Luke might try to snatch it from his desk.

“Absolutely not.” He wrapped it tightly against his body.

“Ooh there’s some juicy stuff in there.” Luke chuckled.

“Don’t be crude.” Spencer scoffed but his cheeks started to redden, conveying the truth.

“Oh man, I’m right aren’t I?” Luke’s laughter grew.

It increased in volume enough to grant the attention from the others who had been silently working away at their desks.

“What’s going on?” JJ perked up, her blonde head of hair appearing behind her computer monitor.

“Reid’s got a sex diary.” Luke spoke over his shoulder to the whole bullpen.

“I most certainly do not.” His cheeks burned with his embarrassment and he shrunk a little in his chair.

“Reid? Spencer Reid?” Tara stood from her desk, eyebrow cocked in her blatant confusion. “No way, I don’t believe that.”

“Good, because it's not true.” He held the journal closer to his chest.

“He’s hiding something in there, there’s a reason he won’t let me read it.” Luke scoffed.

“Did it occur to you that some people don’t enjoy sharing their entire life story?” Spencer grumbled.

By now JJ and Matt were on their feet too, and the three other agents closed in on his desk. He was thankful at least Emily, Rossi and Garcia were in their respective offices. He shrunk lower in his chair, wishing he were able to simply vanish into thin air.

“Oh he’s definitely hiding something.” Tara folded her arms across her chest, eyebrow still raised in a combination of suspicion and delight.

“So what if I am? I’m entitled to my secrets.” Spencer complained.

“The last time you kept a secret from us you ended up in prison.” JJ’s shoulders slumped, wincing a little at her own words.

“This isn’t…it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “It’s just memories okay? Memories of a great summer I had before I joined the bureau and I’d like to keep them to myself.”

“Oh it’s totally a sex diary.” Matt chuckled heartily.

“For the love of…” Spencer trailed off, pushing himself to his feet and tucking the journal under his arm. “I really don’t want to talk about this. Can you please just respect my privacy for once? I know how hard that is for you guys.”

“Ouch,” JJ pouted. “Sorry for caring.”

“Jennifer, we both know this has nothing to do with you caring about me.” He clucked, pushing past the gaggle of his friends and marching out of the bullpen.

He felt them watching him, muttering under their breaths as he walked away. He hurried down the corridor out of view until he pushed his way into the men’s bathroom.

He slumped into a stall and sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. Placing the old leather bound diary in his lap he ran his fingers over the cover.

He didn’t know why he’d let himself get so worked up over a stupid journal. Except it wasn’t stupid, far from it. It was his collection of memories from a life he wished he could go back and relive.

The twenty two year old who’d put pen to these pages was naive and innocent, his whole life ahead of him. The boy he’d been back then didn’t know of the horrors he was yet to face. It was a much simpler time and he wanted to be able to cling to that without his friends being involved.

For fourteen years his team had been privy to every moment of his life, good and bad. Was it so wrong that Spencer wanted to just keep this one thing to himself?

He huffed out a staggered breath, wishing not for the first time that just cared a little less. It made sense when he was younger, he’d been green when he joined the FBI and the team had treated him with kid gloves, probably rightfully so. But he was a grown man now, older and more worldly, he didn’t need them treating him like a child.

He cracked the spine of the journal, opening it up to the first page and continued caressing the worn page with his fingers. The diary began at the end, retrospectively writing of his adventures during the last week of that summer when he realised he didn’t want those memories to escape him.

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters.

Here in this diary he had meticulously journalled everything that transpired during his last few months in his hometown and how those moments had changed his life forever. He cautiously turned the page, careful not to tear the aged paper.

He felt the heat rising, the sun high in the sky. He became aware of the somewhat blistering concrete beneath him, the occasional sound of passing cars. He could make out the scent of sunblock in the air, chlorine from nearby backyard swimming pools.

Brushing his digits across the page he was transported away from Virginia, away from the bathroom on the sixth floor Quantico office. As he closed his eyes, the Las Vegas summer stretched out before him.

June 2nd 2002

The temperature edged over a hundred two days ago and the AC hasn’t worked in three years. Really need to sell the house, I must look into that when I get to DC. Mom hasn’t lived here since I sent her off to Bennington and this was the last summer I’d be needing it.

It was cooler to sit outside, despite the humidity, it was preferable to the stuffy house with no AC. I planned to go to the library, basking in its glorious air conditioning unit but after stepping outside and immediately feeling the sweat gathering all over my skin, I decided against walking for five miles in this heat.

And boy would I be glad for that decision.

I’m not sure what it was that tore my attention away from the Great Gatsby that morning. I had this feeling, this inexplicable feeling running through my veins and forcing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand to attention.

And when I looked up, there she was. It was as though she was floating, drifting so effortlessly across the street I was sure her feet didn’t touch the ground. She regarded me curiously, most people did. She was unblinking, a slow and cautious smile building on her lips.

I simply stared back in awe at this angelic creature heading my way, never letting her gaze falter from me. I was stunned into silence as she approached up the front path, head tilting to the side as she analysed me.

She invited herself closer, up the three concrete stairs before dropping to the top step right next to me, opening her mouth and inquisitively speaking…

“What are you reading?” You smiled at him in what you hoped to be an amicable manner, but nonetheless his back straightened as if you posed a threat to him.

“Uh…” he swallowed thickly, his Adams apple bobbing. “Me?”

“Yes you.” You laughed. “Who else would I be talking to?”

The peculiar man looked around like he expected someone else to be sitting on his stoop with the two of you. He scratched at the back of his neck nervously.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He rolled his chapped lip between his teeth.

“I’m Y/N.” You shook your head, still laughing a little at his obvious awkwardness.

“Sp-Spencer.” He stuttered.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer.” You nodded curtly. “I’m house sitting for my aunt for the summer, what’s good to do around here?”

Her smile could have lit up the whole night sky, her laugh the sweetest sound I’d ever been lucky enough to hear. She was summer, she would still be summer in the dead of winter. She was magnetic, effervescent.

She was the first drop of rain after a long drought, she was those first few seconds in the morning when you wake up where you momentarily forget all of life's problems. She was…

“Reid, you in here? We got a case.” Luke’s voice broke him out of his revere, eyes flickering off of the page up to the closed stall door.

“I’ll be right there.” He croaked, closing the diary again.

He closed his eyes and inhaled until his lungs were full. He counted to five in his head and listened for the door to close before he slowly exhaled. He repeated the action three more times before he trusted himself to stand.

He swore he could still smell your perfume as he forced his way out of the bathroom and back to reality.

***

June 14th 2002

All the nights we stayed up talking, listening to 80's songs. It still brings a smile to my face.

Her aunt's house, which I came to learn was just up the street and had a new, state of the art AC unit fitted. The next two weeks we spent nearly everyday there listening to her favourite songs on the old stereo, most of which I’d never heard before.

The likes of Van Halen, The Cure, AC/DC and The Pixies played on repeat while she quizzed me on my life and I on hers. She was from San Francisco and her aunt was on vacation so she’d offered to house sit for the summer. She was a year younger than me at twenty one and fresh out of college with no idea where she was heading next.

I kind of envied her, she was a free spirit, she could go anywhere she wanted, do anything she wanted. And for whatever reason, she chose to spend her summer with me.

You hummed along to the music, Where is My Mind by the Pixies encompassing the room. You laid on your back on the couch, your feet in Spencer’s lap and the AC sending its cool waves towards you.

You cradled the blunt between your fingertips, every now and again raising it to your lips and sucking on it. The room was filling with smoke, the smell of it alone enough to make Spencer a little light headed.

“You sure you don’t want any of this?” You spoke with a lungful smoke.

“I’m good, really.” Spencer smiled his tight-lipped smile you’d grown accustomed to the last few weeks.

“It would be out of your system before you start your big government job.” You giggled.

“It’s not just that.” He shook his head. “Smoking marijuana at our age while our brains are still technically developing can affect IQ. A study showed that those who started smoking pot before twenty five lost six to eight IQ points by middle age.”

You sat up on your elbows, your eyebrows deeply furrowed at him.

“You think it’s really going to affect your life so much if you lose a couple of IQ points, Doc?” Your lip quipped up into a smile.

“I don’t want to risk it.” Spencer noted your slightly bloodshot eyes.

You took another long drag, the sound of the paper crackling as it burnt filled his ears. You breathed it in before slowly exhaling the smoke out into the room.

“Hmm,” you hummed in content, dropping the half smoked blunt into a little glass dish on the coffee table. “Now I feel light as a feather.”

“You could get that feeling in many other ways. The main psychoactive ingredient, THC, is simply stimulating the part of the brain that responds to pleasure. It’s releasing dopamine which is what’s giving you that euphoric feeling.” He told you almost sternly.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, sitting up further so you could get a good look at him.

“Pleasure, huh?” You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah,” he swallowed. “It’s the same way you would respond to food or…”

“Or?” Your lip twitched.

“Other pleasurable activities.” He swallowed again, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

You swung your legs off of his lap and shuffled closer to him on the couch. You saw him swallow yet again, noticed his chest heave with a deep breath.

The closer you got to him the more you could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves and you dared move so you were straddling his lap.

Your knees pressing either side of his thighs, you wrapped your arms around his neck and a hagged breath left between his pouty lips. His cheeks were a deep crimson colour now and from this position in his lap you knew exactly why.

“Spence?” You whispered as he looked at you in embarrassment.

It would be painfully obvious from where you were sitting that he was aroused and he felt so incredibly vulnerable in that moment.

“Yes, Y/N?” He croaked.

“What other pleasurable activities are you talking about?”

“I think…I think you know.”

“Hmm let’s pretend I don’t.” You smiled coyly. “After all, I’ve probably knocked off a few IQ points right? What other pleasurable activities?”

You rolled your hips a little in his lap and Spencer mewled at the sensation. This was the closest he’d ever come to having someone other than himself touch him and he felt dizzy. He felt so dizzy that when he spoke, he wasn’t sure he’d even meant to let the word slip off his tongue.

“S-sex.” He breathed, the smile on your face growing in approval.

“Well now, that does sound more appealing than smoking.” You edged your face closer to him, rolling your hips into his lap once more.

He smelt your perfume and the pot on your breath. He felt like his skin was on fire and he couldn’t form a coherent thought.

A moment before you lips touched his, the sound of a phone ring cut through the room and you sprung apart suddenly.

Spencer remained sitting on the couch while you ambled over to the landline. He watched you go, half wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing.

But the erection still visible through his slacks begged to differ.

***

He returned the journal to his satchel as the jet came into land near Dallas. He knew word of his mysterious diary had reached Emily and Rossi and the whole team had been watching him read on the flight.

He tried to cast his memories to the back of his mind and focus on the case, people were being murdered and that had to take precedence over his nostalgic thoughts.

Emily sent him and Rossi to the morgue and Spencer tried to pretend he was focused on a case file while Rossi drove them. He could see the older man looking at him in his peripheral vision.

Thankfully Rossi did not ask him about the journal even though Spencer knew he wanted to.

It was in the back of his mind all day and after he retired to his hotel room and showered, he found himself thumbing through to the next page.

July 1st 2002

Breaking into hotel swimming pools, and wreaking havoc on our world. Does it make me completely dumb that I would follow her to the ends of the earth?

I knew it was a bad idea, but I just can’t say no to her. She said she had something fun planned and so like an idiot I came along.

I didn’t say anything when we jumped the fence. It was around eleven pm and all the lights around the pool were out, the stars and the moon reflecting on the still water.

I still didn’t say anything when she started stripping down to her underwear, mostly because it rendered me speechless. The sight of her in nothing but that skimpy black lace lingerie caused me to forget my own name and I’m sure I just stared at her slack jaw.

It’s been a few weeks since I think she tried to kiss me and she hasn’t said anything about it. I’m starting to think I misread the situation entirely.

At least I was, until she stripped off her clothes by the side of the pool and curled her finger at me, beckoning me closer.

“You fancy a dip, Spencer?” Your voice was breathy and he followed your motion to come closer.

“Uh, won’t we get in trouble?” He padded forward all the same.

“Only if we get caught.” You giggled, reaching for him as soon as he was close enough.

You gripped him by the lapels of his shirt to tug him forward before your fingers glided towards the top button. He stared at you without a word while you effortlessly popped the buttons one by one.

Once you’d gotten the last button undone your hands moved to his shoulders and you helped push the fabric down his arms until it dropped to the floor.

He was painfully skinny but it didn’t stop him from subconsciously sucking in his small stomach. Your eyes grazed up and down his torso, taking in every inch of skin.

He felt hot beneath your gaze despite the fact the temperature plummeted at night. He felt self conscious, not worthy of your eyes on him. But when you met his gaze again you were smiling.

When your hands landed on the button of his slacks his breath hitched and his legs wobbled slightly. You giggled again, a sound that had become Spencer’s favourite melody over the past month.

You made quick work of the button and zipper before hooking your fingers in the side of his pants and shimming them down his legs.

Spencer stayed still and silent while you undressed him until his pants pooled at his feet and he kicked off his converse so he could remove them completely.

His hands darted in front of him, trying to hide the exceedingly noticeable tenting in his tight boxers. He could tell you knew what he was trying to hide by the playful smile now on your lips.

It was an all too regular occurrence around you. You only had to glance at him a certain way and he would be standing at full attention. It wasn’t his fault, you were unfairly beautiful.

Suddenly you turned your back on him, floating as you so often did towards the pool. Before Spencer’s brain could catch up you were diving into the still water, causing ripples to roll out across the pool.

A few droplets splashed up onto his face and chest. While you were submerged he moved closer to the edge and slipped into the cool water before you could have a chance to scrutinise his body again.

When you emerged you wiped your hair off your face and found Spencer in the pool, leaning back against the wall. The water wasn’t too deep but he crouched down so it was covering him up to his chest.

You waded towards him, eyes sparkling from the moonlight. He pushed himself back against the side of the pool, his nerves written all over his face.

“Everything okay, Doc?” You asked as you neared him.

“Fine, just fine.” He nodded stiffly.

“You sure about that?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, moving dangerously closer.

“Hmm mmm.” He tried to insist but you weren’t buying it.

Your eyes were dark by the time you were right in front of him, almost black. The smile on your face was sinful and it made Spencer’s knees weak.

No one had ever looked at him the way you were looking at him at that moment. He may be naive but he knew exactly what that look meant. And as if to prove that point, your right hand disappeared under the water and seconds later it was palming him through his underwear.

A pathetic whimper left his lips at the contact even though there was a layer of wet fabric between him and your hand.

Your smile grew at his reaction, your other hand now moving to grip his shoulder. Spencer’s arms remained at his sides, his breathing already heightened.

“Spencer?” You whispered. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?”

He rolled his lip between his teeth and shook his head dispondantly.

“No,” he confessed. “I, uh, I’ve never even…kissed anyone before.”

He felt the heat spreading to his cheeks and he was painfully aware of your hand still palming him. Your smile turned a little sad, pitying almost.

“You want to change that?” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

“Y-yes.” He nodded. “Yes p-please.”

“So polite,” you stepped even closer. “Such a good boy.”

When your lips finally touched his, he whined against them, feeling an explosion of emotions in one simple action. Your tongue easily made its way into his mouth and your hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his head.

You kissed him fiercely, exploring his mouth with hunger. Spencer didn’t do much of anything, simply stood limply while you kissed the air from his lungs.

He continued to whine against your lips when your hand started moving around his shaft. His hips started to rock against you of their own accord and he so desperately wished there wasn’t a piece of fabric in his way.

As though you could read his mind your hand shifted and your fingers trailed across his stomach just about the waistband of his boxers. He moaned deeply and you pulled back from the kiss, a questioning expression on your features.

“Can I?” You panted as you spoke, nodding your head downwards.

All Spencer could do was nod dumbly in response.

You smiled before leaning in to kiss him again, somehow more ferociously than before. When your hand slid inside the sodden material of his boxers and wrapped around his length an animalistic moan erupted from his lips, swallowed down in your own mouth.

Your small hand couldn’t quite reach all the way around his thick shaft as you started moving up and down on it. His hips started bucking harder than before, telling you he enjoyed it.

His brain was mush, he couldn’t form a single coherent thought except how phenomenal your hand felt. His lack of awareness allowed him a little more confidence and he finally moved his arms, his hands finding your face and holding you while he kissed you.

You smiled against his lips, the water started to lap around your bodies with your movements. You kept up a steady pace as you stroked him while removing one of his hands from your face.

He let you guide his hand over the planes of your body until it was situated between your legs. He inhaled sharply, having to tear his lips away from yours.

You were both panting as you looked at each other, his breathing staggered due to the way you were touching him. His hand was still between your legs, ghosting outside of your panties.

“You…you’re sure?” He breathed erratically.

“Very.” You nodded, increasing your speed and eliciting another feral moan from Spencer.

“I…I’ve never done this before.”

“You strike me as a quick learner.” You smirked.

“F-fuck…” he mumbled. “I…I am.”

“Make me feel good, Spence. Be a good boy for me.”

Your words of praise made him hiss, bucking hard into your hand. It was enough encouragement for him to inch your panties aside before his fingers slid beneath the fabric.

You were surprised to say the least when one of his digits quickly found your clit and started rubbing it deftly, as though he’d done this hundreds of times before.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open, your grip on him faltering for a second at the sensation.

“Fuck…” you whined, trying to focus on your strokes. “You…you sure you’ve never done that before?”

“P-positive.” He nodded, his knees buckling as he felt precome leaking from his head. “S’good?”

“So good, baby. So good.” You crashed your lips together again as he increased his speed, rubbing your sensitive bud like he’d been doing it his whole life.

You squeezed the base of his shaft before matching his speed with your strokes. You were moaning into each other's waiting mouths, water frantically lapping around your bodies.

You whined when his finger disappeared from your clit but soon two of his digits were swiping through your folds. When you felt them pressed against your entrance, begging for access, you nibbled on his bottom lip and squeezed his cock again telling him to continue.

You moaned in unison as his two long, slender fingers entered you. Spencer felt as though he might pass out at the sensation as his fingers pushed all the way inside of you.

He felt your shift and move around him, your walls fluttering against his digits. That combined with the way you were frenziedly pumping him caused his stomach to tighten with the telltale signs of his impending orgasm.

“Oh my gosh you feel so incredible.” He whined, plunging his fingers deeper inside you.

You felt him twitching in your hand, still lazily rocking into your touch.

“Are you close, baby?” Your thighs squeezed around his hand.

“Y-yes.” He admitted, fingers coniniting to move in and out of you, desperate to give you as much pleasure as you were bestowing upon him.

“Come for me, Spence. Come for me.”

He whimpered again, the pressure building in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t hold back any longer even if he wanted to.

With a staggered moan his hips jut forward as he came in the pool, while you stroked him through his first orgasm not at his own hand.

***

In a hotel room just outside of Dallas, Spencer narrowly managed to move the journal out of the way just in time for him to spill his load over his own hand.

He fell back against the lumpy pillows, breathing heavily and his hand still slowly moving up and down his spent shaft.

He glanced at the diary through hazy eyes and shook his head, removing his hand from his cock and wiping his seed on the bed sheet.

He swore he could feel your hand there even after all these years, feel the water splashing around his naked torso.

He could feel you around his fingers, the way you clenched tighter as you came not so long after he did.

He could still feel the weight of your body as you fell against him in the pool, head nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you panted heavily into his wet skin.

Things had been so much simpler then, he sometimes yearned for those days. A part of him wished he hadn’t found the journal in the first place then maybe he wouldn’t have found himself sucked down this particular rabbit hole.

Despite the memories swarming his brain he fell asleep without even cleaning himself off, one hand on his rapidly beating heart and the other clutching the battered diary.

***

July 4th 2002

Lighting fireworks in parking lots, illuminates the blackest nights. Cherry cokes under this moonlit summer sky.

I suggested going to an organised event for the Fourth of July celebrations but she insisted that we have our own.

She brought a ton of fireworks, it was a wonder she didn’t blow a hand off that night, fumbling to light them whilst dragging on a blunt.

But I simply watched her from the back of her aunt’s old VW Camper, sipping on my coke in absolute awe of her every move.

Since our pool escapades the other day, every time I look at her I get chills. Every time I catch sight of her I think of the way she felt as she touched me, as I touched her…

She hasn’t even so much as kissed me since and I’m partially wondering if it was all a vivid dream. At least I was until tonight.

You sauntered back over towards the open back doors of your camper where Spencer sat cross legged on a blanket.

Seconds later an array of fireworks erupted in the sky over the abandoned parking lot, the sounds and the colours a feast for the senses.

But you weren’t watching them. You were watching him.

You crawled into the back of the van, right into his lap, straddling him as you took a long pull on the joint. You inhaled the smoke and tossed the butt over your shoulder before placing your hands on his shoulders.

When you kissed him the smoke filtered out of your mouth and into his but he didn’t care. His arms wrapped around your waist while your tongues explored each other's mouths.

You guided him backwards so he was laying down, his cock already fully erect and pressing against you. You laid on top of him and continued to kiss him fiercely.

His hands found purchase on your back, gently holding you close. You were grinding against him causing him to moan into your mouth and squirm beneath you.

He knew where this would inevitably lead if he let it. He wanted to, he didn’t exactly relish the idea of being a virgin forever and you were the first woman to ever show him this kind of attention.

But he didn’t want to just be another guy to you. He didn’t want to just be a quick lay you’d forget all about. And inevitably that’s what would happen.

It wasn’t something the two of you talked about often but at the end of summer you were going back to San Francisco and he was going to DC. If he slept with you that’s all it would ever be. And he didn’t want that.

You continued to kiss him and grind against him but his intrusive thoughts got the better of him and all the blood that had previously been flowing south rerouted itself. He didn’t even realise until you sat back and looked at him curiously.

“Is everything okay?” You breathed heavily, lips slightly swollen from the kiss.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” He frowned up at you.

“Uh…” Your eyes flicked down towards his crotch at the same time he realised he was completely flaccid.

His cheeks burnt and he cursed his overactive brain.

“I’m sorry.” He shook his head, trying to sit back up.

You slid off of his lap and sat next to him while he drew his legs close to his body.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do this. I’m sorry if I come on a little strong.” You shrugged meekly.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just…I don’t want to lose my virginity to someone I’m never going to see again once summer is over.” He cringed at his own words, at how needy and sad he sounded.

Your expression turned pitying and it made him feel even more stupid.

“I get it.” You smiled softly. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“It’s kinda hard not to be.” He buried his head into his knees and hugged his arms around his shins. “I’m sure most guys, normal guys, would jump at the chance to be with a woman as beautiful as you. No one’s ever looked at me the way you do, I was always so much younger than my peers so it made sense. I wasn’t waiting or anything, not deliberately. But now the opportunity has presented itself, I don’t think I’m the casual sex kind of guy. God that sounds so lame.”

You were smiling to yourself at how adorable he was. With his face against his knees his words were muffled but you caught the gist of them.

You shuffled closer to him and placed your hands on his cheeks, guiding his face back up so he would look at you.

“I think that’s kinda noble.” You whispered.

“I think the word you’re looking for is sad.” He huffed.

“No, it’s not.” You let go of his face. “I understand, Spencer. I wish I’d waited, I wish I’d waited for someone like you.”

He let you wrap your arms around him and he leant against your chest while you held him. Off in the distance fireworks continued to illuminate the sky, the far off sound of their explosions a strange comfort.

***

Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms somewhat aggressively after almost an hour of staring at the map of their unsubs hunting ground.

Despite falling asleep quickly last night his peace had been short lived and he’d woken less than two hours later and couldn’t get back to sleep.

He didn’t know why he was letting the diary affect him in such a way, shouldn’t it have the opposite result? Those entries were from the best days of his life, but maybe it served as a reminder that he could never go back to that time.

He wasn’t that naive kid anymore, he’d suffered one too many traumas in his life to ever be that kid again. Back then his most difficult decision was whether or not to have sex with a beautiful woman. He longed to have such trivial problems.

He’d felt so stupid after the night of the fourth of July he had avoided you for two weeks after. He’d wasted what precious time the two of you had together feeling idiotic over his decision to turn you down and hidden out in the public library just to circumvent any further interaction with you.

He turned to face the room, realising he was alone in the small meeting room. Last he checked JJ and Luke were at the table going over files, when had they left?

He frowned to himself, reaching for his satchel and pulling the journal out, flipping to the next page.

July 19th 2002

Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up, these are the best days of our lives. The only thing that matters is just following your heart, and eventually you'll finally get it right.

He closed his eyes with a shake of his head. Wasn’t that the painful truth? He’d written that particular entry with a smile on his face like the cat that got the cream. That date had been the best of his whole whirlwind summer.

After stewing in his stupidity for two weeks he had shown up at your aunt's house unexpected and uninvited. You’d barely let him inside before he’d kissed you. And it wasn’t long at all before he was leading you back to the couch.

“Spence, what’s going on?” You panted, looking up at him from where you laid on the couch.

“Do you really need me to spell it out for you?” He was fumbling a little with the buttons of his shirt, hands noticeably shaking.

“But I thought…you said you didn’t want this? And then you don’t talk to me for weeks and now you-”

“I was overthinking, I do that a lot. But I don’t want to overthink this.” He finished unbuttoning the shirt and dropped it to the floor before climbing on top of you and kissing you again.

“You’re sure?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Extremely.” He replied.

He snapped the journal closed before he could get carried away. He didn’t exactly go into graphic detail of what transpired on your aunt’s couch that day but it was certainly not safe for work material.

He didn’t need to read the words anyway, he’d memorised everything about that day. He learnt by heart the way your skin felt against his, the way the two of you melted together as though your bodies somehow became one. He’d retained every little detail of how you felt, every tiny movement of your body as he’d made love to you.

He couldn’t forget even if he wanted to.

Just as he was slotting the diary back into his satchel, trying not to get caught up in the blissful memory, the door opened and JJ strolled in carrying two take out coffee cups. She smiled at him, handing him one of the drinks. He smiled at her in thanks.

Her eyes flitted to his open bag and the diary nestled inside. When she looked back at him she had an amused expression on her face.

“So, sex diary, huh?” She chuckled lightly.

“It is nothing of the sort.” He rolled his eyes.

“Alvez is convinced otherwise.”

“Well Alvez doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Summer of oh-two right?” She narrowed her eyes on him, the way she did when she was trying to profile him.

“Yeah.” He took a sip of coffee.

“Wasn’t that-”

“Yes.” He cut her off.

The summer I met the love of my life.

He’d told JJ snippets from that summer, she was the only one who he’d ever told. She knew as much as he’d met a wonderful woman who he’d lost his virginity to and over the course of a summer had fallen in love with her. As far as he knew she’d never told anyone.

“So why has it gotten you so tetchy? I would have thought you’d like to relive those days?” She slid into one of the chairs sipping her own coffee but her scrutinising gaze stayed on him.

He let out a haggard sigh, taking a seat next to her and using his free hand to swipe his hair back off of his face.

“Do you ever feel like the best days of your life have passed you by?” He found himself asking.

JJ’s expression softened, a melancholy smile adorned on her lips. She sat forward slightly in the chair.

“Is that really what you think?” She placed a gentle hand on his knee and she felt him tense up at her touch.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” He wiggled his nose, a gesture he did when he was uncomfortable. “I guess I just miss being that carefree.”

“Spencer Reid, carefree? Can’t picture it.” JJ laughed around her cup.

“Fine, maybe not carefree.” He chuckled too. “But not…this. I’m worried I’m never going to bounce back from prison. I went to therapy, I took the medication, I should be over it by now.”

“Spence, you have PTSS, that doesn’t just go away. You know as well as I do, probably better, that the symptoms can be managed, that it can remain dormant for months, even years. But the trauma you suffered is what evoked your PTSS and that doesn’t leave you. You’ll probably always be dealing with it in one way or another.” JJ squeezed his knee before Spencer moved out of her touch.

He knew what she was saying was right and that’s what made it harder to hear. PTSS was something he would always live with, something that could always be triggered in the future. He’d created coping mechanisms, dealt with his trauma but it didn’t make it go away, it would never just vanish into thin air. He could never undo the damage that had already been done.

“I thought reading that journal would help me feel like my old self but it’s having the opposite effect. Because I’m never going to be that kid again.” He shook his head sadly.

“And why would you want to be?” JJ scoffed.

“Excuse me?” He frowned at her.

“Spence, I knew you at twenty two. You were painfully shy and awkward. It took you years to be able to look me in the eye. You’ve changed so much in the years I’ve known you and that’s not a bad thing. You’re better at your job, you’re a better man now than you were at twenty two, you have to see that?” She hoped her words were getting through, hoped he would listen to her before he fell into a self pity spiral he may never get out of.

He exhaled shakily, taking another sip of coffee while he tried to come up with a response. But he didn’t have to, as soon the door was opening again and Luke entered the room. And Spencer quickly jumped up and returned to his map, effectively shutting down any further conversation on the subject.

***

August 6th 2002

Hanging out at truck stops, just to pass the time. Watching the slew of cars fly by on the freeway, eating bags of chips while she tossed stones out into the rolling desert beyond us.

“Remind me again why we’re here?” He asked you as you flung another stone off into the distance.

You turned to face him, both sitting in the gravel, leaning up against the side of the truck stop building.

“Why not?” You quipped.

“There are countless other more interesting things in Las Vegas than sitting at a truck stop. You’re only here a few more weeks and I thought you wanted to see the city?”

“I have seen the city.”

“You’ve seen abandoned parking lots, old motel swimming pools and the inside of your aunt’s house.” He shook his head.

“Hmm,” you mused. “I have been very acquainted with her ceiling these past few weeks.” You winked at him and his cheeks immediately burned at the insinuation.

It wasn’t a lie. The last couple of weeks the two of you had barely left your aunt’s house in lieu of making the most of each other's company whilst wearing as few clothes as possible.

Spencer wasn’t strictly complaining about that, sex with you was one of the wonders of the world and he’d happily do it for the rest of his life. But he was painfully aware of what little time you had left together.

“It’s a pretty good ceiling.” He swallowed thickly, having had his own share of experiences in which he was staring at that ceiling too.

You giggled and it was literally music to his ears. You tossed another stone before suddenly getting to your feet.

Spencer followed suit, brushing the dirt off the back of his slacks. You had a mischievous glint in your eyes as you took hold of his hand and started leading him around the side of the building.

“Where are we going?” He asked, not that it really mattered. He’d long ago realised he would follow you anywhere.

“You’ll see.” You giggled again, giving his hand a squeeze.

He followed you inside a grimy and slightly dilapidated bathroom, eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion.

When you let go of his hand and locked the door, his stomach coiled into knots and his cock immediately started to come to life.

“Y/N?” He breathed. “What are we…why are we…?”

You laughed and took him by the hand again, leading him into a stall. The door was coming off of its hinges and the tiled floor was dirty and cracked. You didn’t seem to notice.

You pushed him up against one of the walls in the stall and started kissing him with ferocity. He kissed you back, trying to ignore the stench of a bathroom that was long overdue for a good clean.

He didn’t really have much time to dwell on such trivial things however as soon as you were dropping to your knees on the filthy floor and looking up at him through your lashes.

The simple action had him standing at full attention, his stomach tightly coiled. He’d dreamed of what it would be like to have you go down on him but never imagined it would happen.

He was too polite to ask and too innocent to assume. But it hadn’t stopped him from imagining it countless times.

You smiled at him, toying with the button of his slacks and chewing seductively on your lip.

“Is this what you want, Doc?” You breathed.

“You have no idea.” He nodded somewhat frantically.

“Be a good boy and say it for me. I can’t read your mind.” You teased.

The idea of dirty talking in any way would have normally freaked him out but it had become clear to both of you early on that when you called him a good boy he’d do just about anything.

“P-please,” he whined, bucking his hips. “Please s-suck my cock.”

You hissed at his words, teeth sinking deeply into your own lip.

“Oh you’re so good, Spencer. Such a good boy for me.” You popped the button as a reward.

“Your good boy.” He agreed with a whimper.

“My best boy.” You smirked, tugging his pants and boxers down to his knees in one swift move.

He gasped as the stale air hit his erect cock and pushed himself back against the stall wall. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip as your index finger ghosted up and down the throbbing vein that ran the length of his shaft.

His knees were already quaking, desperate to feel your lips wrapped around him. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer as soon you bowed your head, parted your lips and took his head into your mouth.

His eyes rolled back in his head in an instant and the sounds coming from his lips could only be described as feral as you slowly took him all the way in your mouth.

He yelped when he hit the back of your throat, partly through pleasure and partly through fear he might hurt you. He knew he wasn’t exactly small, not quite so naive as to be blind to the fact he was sporting an above average sized package.

But to your credit you didn’t even so much as gag and when you looked up at him through your lashes again, nose buried in his pubic hair, he swore you were smiling.

***

At the back of the jet Spencer tried to rearrange his satchel in his lap to disguise his growing erection from anyone who might pass him by. The mere thought of that day you’d given him his very first blow job was enough to make him strain at the front of his slacks.

The case in Dallas was wrapped up in just two days despite Spencer’s lack of concentration and he was so pleased to be heading home.

He closed his eyes, resting his head back against the headrest and trying not to think about that day but failed miserably.

Getting to come while he had sex with you was incredible, of course, but being inhibited by condoms always left him feeling a little incomplete. But the feeling of coming down your throat, having every last drop of his arousal swallowed down while you smiled at him was out of this world.

He whimpered a little under his breath, his cock throbbing in the confines of his pants. He grit his teeth together hard and opened his eyes in an attempt to focus on something else.

August 29th 2002

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had…that unspoken feeling of knowing that right now is all that matters…

“What are you doing?” You sing-songed, dropping yourself next to him on the couch.

“Just writing.” He hurried to close the journal before you caught sight of anything.

“Writing what?” Your eyes were sparkling playfully at him.

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.” He shrugged, hugging the book to his chest.

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

Three days later, on September first, you’d been leaving Vegas, waving to him from the rear window of the bus taking you to the airport.

***

September 1st 2002

I don’t know why but some reason I genuinely thought this summer might never end. Time is just a construct right? Maybe this summer could last forever.

More logically, or maybe less depending on how you look at it, I think I actually thought she’d stay, come with me to DC. I asked her to, although I don’t think she realised I was being serious.

“What are you doing?”

“Just writing.”

“Writing what?”

“Memories. I want to remember this summer.”

“You have an eidetic memory, dork.”

“I know, I’m just scared for this to end. I…Y/N I have fallen in love with you. Don’t go back to California, come to DC with me instead.”

She’d simply laughed as though I’d told the world's funniest joke, patted me on the shoulder and said, “oh wouldn’t that just be the dream, Doc?”

That was three days ago and she hasn’t brought it up since and neither have I. And today I helped her with her bags to the bus station so she could leave me forever.

Get on the bus, it's time to go.

“I am gonna miss you, you know, Doc?” You toyed with his lapel, the sweetest of smiles on your face. “I had a way better summer than I planned for.”

“M-me too.” He croaked, stupidly feeling hot tears brewing behind his eyes.

“Don’t be sad, you’re leaving for Quantico next week. Your dream job, remember? You're going to be saving lives and kicking ass. You’ll forget all about me.” You smiled.

“Doubtful.” He huffed.

The engine of the bus roared to life behind the two of you and your smile turned a little sad. You breathed out before leaning in close and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You have to forget me, Doc. Summers over.” You whispered against his lips and before he could reply you were turning away and sauntering to the doors of the bus.

His heart constricted in his chest, tears encompassing his vision. Nothing about this was fair even though he’d know all along you’d be leaving. It didn’t make it an easier pill to swallow.

He rubbed his eyes heavily before your face appeared at the back window. You were still smiling but if he didn’t know any better he swore your own eyes were filled with tears.

The sound of the doors closing caused his chest to tighten further. This was it. It was over. You were leaving.

As the bus rumbled into gear and started forward, you waved to him and his tears broke free. He raised his hand and waved back while they rolled down his cheeks.

He stood on the sidewalk waving as the bus started its journey, watching as the only woman he would ever love was cruelly taken away from him.

***

He rolled his neck as he ascended the stairs to his apartment after a long metro ride home from Quantico. He freed his keys from his satchel, fingertips brushing over the worn leather cover of the journal as he did so.

He’d never be that innocent twenty two year old again. But was that really such a bad thing? Maybe JJ was right, he was better at his job, he was a better man now than he had been back then. Getting caught up in this wave of nostalgia was foolish.

Ultimately Spencer knew he wouldn’t go back to that age for all the money in the world. That summer might have been the best of his life, but it wasn’t as though his life had been terrible after that. Things sometimes had a way of working themselves out, the universe had its own plan for everyone.

And despite the trauma thrown his way, the universe hadn’t been entirely merciless towards him.

He found himself smiling for the first time in days as he slotted the key in his apartment door. He’d been thrown a lot of curveballs in his life, dealt a hand that no one person should have to tackle alone.

But then he never really had been alone, had he?

He turned the key and pushed open the door, the light from the lamp next to the couch illuminating the room in the homely glow he loved so much.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee met his nose, wrapping him in its warmth. He smiled brighter, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his satchel. He pulled out the journal and cradled it under his arm. Then he turned towards the couch and the body sat upon it, his smile grew tenfold.

“Welcome home, Doc.”

Get on the bus, it's time to go.

He continued to wave dumbly as the bus got further away, tears streaking down his cheeks and he feared they may never end.

He even kept waving when the bus came to an abrupt stop, even carrying on when the doors swung open and you appeared on the sidewalk.

He finally lowered his hand when you started running towards him, tears rolling from your eyes and a frantic expression on your features.

“You meant it didn’t you? When you asked me to come to DC with you, you meant it. You meant it and I knew you did but I laughed because I was scared.” You spat out, speaking so fast all your words rolled into one.

“I did mean it.” He croaked, scared to reach for you in case you vanished in a puff of smoke. “And I also meant it when I told you I love you.”

“I, uh…” your voice cracked and you scuffed your toe on the concrete. “Would it be utterly crazy if I did come with you to DC?”

“Probably.” He nodded. “Realistically we barely know each other. We might come to find when we learn more about one another that we don’t actually like what we find. Take me, I’m neurotic, I’m a neat freak, a germaphobe. I own too many books, my hair’s too long, my tie is perpetually crooked, I’m-”

“Spencer?” You chuckled through your tears, cutting him off of his rant.

“I ramble when I’m nervous.” He sighed. “But I do know that I love you. And I’m almost positive that I will love every little thing about you, most likely for the rest of my life. So it is probably crazy of you to come to DC with me, but I hope you do it anyway.”

“Spence?” You smiled, wiping at your tears. “I love you too, and I’m positive I will love every little thing about you too. For the rest of my life.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath of relief and wiped his own tears moments before you fell into his arms and kissed him more fiercely than you ever had before. And you both knew no matter how crazy it was, it also made absolutely perfect sense.

“Good to be home, angel.” He kissed you, wrapping his free arm around your waist to hold you close.

He always did that, despite how many years it had been. Regardless of the fact you’d now been together since you were twenty one years old and he was twenty two, in spite of the fact you’d married him, he always felt the need to keep you as close as humanly possible as though afraid he may lose you like he almost had all those years ago.

“Missed you.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Missed you more.” He replied.

When he broke away from you, your eyes landed on the diary and you laughed, tugging it free of his grip.

“JJ called me this morning and said you’d been pining over this thing.” You ran your fingers over the worn cover.

“Best summer of my life.” He smiled as the two of you sank to the couch.

Spencer wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you nuzzled against him, still toying with the old diary.

“Mine too. But we can’t live in the past forever. And I don’t know about you but I’m pretty happy right here in the present. And I’m certain our future is going to look pretty damn good.” You took his hand in your free one and brought it to your lips so you could place delicate kisses on his knuckles.

He’d been so sure as he watched that bus pull away that he would never see you again, that he had lost a piece of his heart forever. The summer of ‘02 he had met the love of his life and he had counted his lucky stars every day that he was also the love of yours.

You’d stayed by his side through every hurdle. You’d helped him get clean after his addiction which could have torn the two of you apart, held his hand through every single NA meeting and soothed him through withdrawals.

You’d gone to every doctor's appointment with him while he was suffering from debilitating headaches, dried his tears when he thought Emily had died and held his hand at the funeral. You’d felt his anger towards JJ and Hotch when Emily came back from the dead.

You’d done the same when Gideon died, when Morgan left the team and then Hotch. You’d visited him every day in prison and told him on every visit that no matter how long it took you would be waiting for him when he got out.

“Until death do us part, Doc. I didn’t take our vows lightly.”

He held you closer, trying to communicate to you just how much your love and support had meant to him over the years.

“Have I ever thanked you for getting off that bus?” He sighed in content.

“Only every single day since.” You giggled, still after all these years his absolute favourite sound in the world.

He laughed with you, holding you impossibly closer and breathing in the scent of your perfume he still loved so much.

One summer had turned his whole life upside down. One glorious summer changed everything. That summer and the memories the two of you had created would forever live on, even without that old journal. But you were right, he couldn’t live in the past forever, nor would he want to. His present was as close to perfect as it could possibly be.

And even in the coldest depths of winter, you would always be the summer of Spencer Reid’s heart.

Here in this diary I write you visions of my summer, it was the best I ever had.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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xzaddyzanakinx · 4 days

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Twelve: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, domesticity kink, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, semi-public, bondage, blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking, squirting, cumming untouched, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, murder/blood/gore/drugs(referenced), knife, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is so full of himself that he’s somehow tricked himself into a bit of emotional maturity, Anakin has blooming bromance, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Date

August 27th continued.

Anakin climbed through his living room window and shut it behind him, happily humming to himself as he shut and locked it behind him. He spread out two trash bags on the floor after rolling up the rug to get it out of his way.

Armed with a pair of scissors and a few gallon ziploc bags he went to work on the clothes he’d been wearing. Thankfully, he had enough sense to buy jeans and a hoodie from the Goodwill. He can’t fuck you in the clothes he killed a man in, that’s just gross. So he chopped up the fabric in little squares while watching an episode of Narcos for the irony of it.

He planned to drive around the city tomorrow and dump the remnants of his clothes down every sewer grate he could. He already said goodbye to his third favorite butterfly knife, having shoved it into a culvert on his way home. As well as his throwaway sneakers which he chucked into the murky water of the deep river that flowed beneath the bridge he trekked across to get home- the long way.

Anakin was a good citizen, he knew he couldn’t flush the drugs. He couldn’t dispose of them in the trash, he definitely couldn’t keep them, so he did what every responsible person would do: dumped them in the medical wastes slot at the CVS.

The cash on the other hand… over $2,000. That- that he could definitely keep.

With his mind cleared, soiled clothes squared away, and plan in place; he hit the shower and reveled in the faint metallic scent of blood that trickled down the drain. Mentally adding ‘new loofah’ to his to-do list, he scrubbed away at his skin with dawn dishsoap until he felt like his skin was screaming for him to stop. Then he used his favorite smell-good cedar soap, enjoying the steam of the scalding water pelting his back as he rinsed himself clean.

Diary Entry: August 28th

I feel GOOD. I feel better, I feel fresh.

My worries went down the drain along with every scrap of evidence I created. Have you ever felt such a clear and palpable mental reset? I haven’t.

I haven’t had a single negative thought since my visit with Joel. It’s all been rainbows and shittin’ unicorns, I know what it’s like to live completely carefree now. I could go the rest of my life and suffer through whatever disaster life throws our way and do it with a fucking smile.

Gods I just love you. I love you so much.

You’re perfect. I don’t know how the hell you do it princess but you’ve found every possible way to improve my life and you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time! It’s like you know exactly what I need without ever speaking it aloud. You just let the pieces fall into place.

It was your idea to DoorDash the pizza, your choice to wear that slutty pajama set I love so much, your sunshiny predisposition that drew his attention and the bangin’ body that held it. Without that, all of it, I’d still be wallowing in the throes of despair at my untimely death via withering away.

But here I am, having a damn good day!

The only thing that would make it better is me fucking you like a jackrabbit on his third 5hr Energy. However, I love you and as much as I’d like to fuck you within an inch of your life, I will not. I have a hand that works perfectly fine and a plethora of porn starring you that I can drool over until I’ve sated myself enough to act like a semi-normal human.

How will I broach the subject of my unrequited love today? I don’t know. Am I worried about it? Hell no. I have faith in my goddess to deliver what I’m worthy of.

How will I look you in the eye after my late night escapade? With a fucking smile.

Date

August 28th

You traded texts back and forth with Anakin all morning. Something had crawled under his skin and bit him with venomous lust, he’d sent you pretty pictures of his weeping cock, cum dribbling out and down the back of his hand. He’d texted, described in delicate detail what he’d like to do to you with the most vile and disgusting words to caress that sick little minx that lived inside your stomach.

He had you clenching around nothing, gushing slick behind the counter at the diner. Blushing deep, dusty rose petal red across your cheeks and creeping up under your shirt collar. You felt hot, your hands sweaty and mind flustered beyond belief. You hadn’t felt this sexually frustrated since Ghost had stopped torturing you in your sleep.

You were nervous and bashful around customers as if they could see straight through your polite voice and put together appearance. Underneath the confidence that you reserved for waiting tables was a deprived and thoroughly soaked cunt that controlled your every waking thought.

“Princess?” Anakin’s deep gravelly bedroom voice floated over the Formica countertop and wrapped you up in a warm embrace.

You looked up and saw the face of a desperate man. His pretty blue eyes had been completely swallowed up by his lust… love blown pupils. His normally calming cloud of energy was replaced by a jittery, buzzing storm of bottled up euphoria. He couldn’t wait to pop the cork and share it with you.

“Vigo?” Anakin’s voice cracked, his smile only growing bigger when your coworker popped his head around the kitchen door frame. “I’m stealing her.”

“Hey, you gotta clock out!” He shouted after you as Anakin gripped your wrist and whisked you out to his car. Vigo was already on his way to the time cards, punching it in for you to save himself the worry of you forgetting.

“Anakin what’s gotten into you?” You panted, trying to catch your breath while Anakin licked into your mouth and sucked the tip of your tongue. Kissing you as messily as he could short of drowning you via spit swap.

“Woke up missing you.” He groaned, nuzzling your breasts. His nose nudging the valley while he rubbed his cheeks against the swell, pushing them together with his splayed hands.

“Can’t help it.” He breathed out, biting your sensitive flesh through the fabric of your shirt.

“Ani.” You moaned, tugging his head away gently. “You already gave me a massive hickey.” He chuckled as you reminded him of the purplish bruise you’d attempted to cover with makeup.

“True.” He nodded, nipping you again anyway. “You could stand to have a few more though.”

“Shit, not now.” You shook your head and bucked up your hips, wiggling out of your jeans.

“Damn, that’s what I like to see sweetheart.” Anakin growled, smacking your ass lightly as he laid down in the back seat. “C’mere baby let me see my pussy.”

You giggled, complying and gingerly hovering over his mouth only to earn a frustrated groan from him.

“Goddamnit. I-I’ve never seen you this wet.” His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked up at you, his enlarged pupils snapping a mental picture of how beautiful you were from your position above him where you belonged.

Both hands suddenly gripped your hips and pulled you down on top of his face. He held on tightly, keeping you in place despite your concerns of suffocating him.

“Don’t care.” He moaned, thrusting his tongue up and swirling it around inside your entrance, the bridge of his nose rubbing your clit as he guided your hips to ride his face. “I’d be dying the happiest man on earth.”

“Oh my god.” You sucked in a sharp inhale, your palm smacking the headrest while your fingers hurt from the force of your grip on it.

“Mhmmmm.” You could feel his smug grin beneath you, even in this position he was able to establish dominance with just that crooked smirk and hard look to his eyes.

“Anakin…” moaning, you reached down to play with his hair, his mouth pulling your clit between his teeth to suck harshly, flicking his tongue at a fast pace in hopes to bring you to orgasm quickly. “Anakin please… s-slow.”

“Uh uh.” He shook his head with a chuckle, digging his fingertips into the fat of your ass.

“My pussy… my rules.” He mumbled, the words muffled and nearly incoherent.

He slurped and sucked, dragging his tongue in long stripes up your center, dipping the tip into your hole each time it passed over. He’d never eaten you so desperately, never had he sent you spiraling into orgasm this quickly. Heat traveled from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears, your hole quivering around his tongue darting in to lick up your cum.

“Ani- Anakin enough.” You whined, trying to get up but he just brought you back down and laved at you with just as much fervor.

“Please no… hurts.” You hiccuped, sensitive beyond belief and not ready for more in the slightest.

“Shhhh.” Anakin laughed, nibbling on your clit carefully, he slipped one hand beneath you, palm side up.

He tapped your hip and let you raise up for a moment to catch your breath, lasting less than a few seconds before he was one-armed manhandling you back over his face.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers while I watch baby.” He whispered, stroking your folds gently before prodding at your entrance.

“Oh sweet lord-“ he moaned loudly, watching your greedy pussy sink down on his fingers from below, your hole fluttering around the two digits.

“You’re so wet.” He whimpered, gazing up at you like you’d hung the moon just for him.

“All this for me?” He asked softly, as if he weren’t really sure what your answer would be.

“All for you Ani.” You nodded, brushing your knuckles across his cheek while he started pumping his finger inside slowly, stretching you out to take a third.

“Jesus, I don’t know what I wanna do.” He groaned, “I wish I could touch you all over all at once.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up for you to see the fruits of his labor, the creamy slick coated his fingers, stringing them together when he pulled them apart. He barely grazed your bottom lip with it before sucking it hungrily from his fingers.

“Goddamnit.” He moaned, pulling you back down with such force that you lost your balance and accidentally unlocked the car door, you giggled and quickly corrected your mistake, Anakin chiding you from below.

“Clumsy little brat.” He grinned, kneading your ass cheeks roughly.

His tone might’ve been playful but the look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory. He lapped at your glistening folds with the enthusiasm of a wildcat on a fresh kill, by the end of it he’d be sucking the bones dry.

Anakin hummed at the taste of you, groaning, babbling nonsense more to your cunt than to you:

“Tastes so good.”

“So pink and pretty for me.”

“Poor pussy just missed me so much huh? Is that why she’s crying?”

He switched up suddenly and had you frozen in place, your jaw dropped open as you let out a choked sob, tilting your head back to look at the car’s ceiling. He’d bit down on your raw and sore clit, peeling back the hood to tortuously bully it with kitten licks all while sucking as hard as he possibly could. It was too much, so much, all at once.

You were already so sensitive, you had already begged him to stop, now you had no words left, just pitiful whimpers as you bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Your legs quivered uncontrollably as goosebumps pricked your flesh, every hair standing on end as Anakin literally sucked you dry as you’d jokingly predicted.

He drew out a long and reedy noise from the depths of your chest, clawing it’s way through the fire in your lungs and past the torn skin on your lip. Creamy cum gushed from your core, coating his chin and neck.

The main course, what he was really after, was the hot juices that dribbled down the back of his throat as he sucked the nectar straight from the source. You would’ve worried you might drown him if you couldn’t visibly see his heavy breathing, feel and hear each desperate swallow and whimper. You could feel his stomach tensing along with his arms, his hands followed and closed into fists.

Turning his head to the side he bit down on your inner thigh, causing you to jolt and yelp, almost missing the way one of his hands flew to his crotch and squeezed his thick cock through his jeans, running his thumb over the fat, swollen tip as a small and sticky dark patch bloomed on his upper thigh.

“N-no no.” He whined, bringing you back down to his face, he carefully avoided your abused clit in favor of cleaning up your thighs and messy cunt, digging out every last drop of slick with his tongue.

“You… you are so fucking hot.” He panted, whimpering in pain when he sat up repositioned his cock.

“Did you-“

“Cum? Yeah.” He nodded sheepishly, stroking himself in his jeans for a moment before removing his hand and showing you the mess he’d made in his jeans.

“No way.” You whispered, a triumphant grin spreading across your lips.

“Yes.” He growled, shoving his hand between your thighs to wipe his cum off onto your spent pussy. “I don’t think you understand what you do to me sweetheart.”

“I’d pay good money to find a way to live inside your skin with you. Just to be close as I could get.” He said quietly, helping you back into your panties and jeans, wiping the excess cum onto the inside of his tshirt.

“I’d sell my soul just to breathe the same air as you if that’s what it took.” He said, pulling you into his lap and crushing you in a hug.

“You are like a Ghost that haunts every corner of my mind.” He whispered, licking the makeup off of your poorly hidden hickey.

Anakin didn’t miss the way you breathed in a sharp breath at his words it took a lot of willpower not to smile against your neck when he heard you audibly swallow with nervousness.

“I wake up and I think of you. I go to sleep and I dream of you.” His rough palms caressing the soft skin of your stomach. “Everything I see, everything I do, it all reminds me of you.”

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He said softly. “You’d never doubt yourself again.” His lips grazing your earlobe as he twirled a lock of hair around his finger, breaking the heavy tension by cracking a smile and tickling the tip of your nose with your hair.

He gently cupped your cheeks and brushed the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks and under your eyes. Staring at you with those unwavering black saucers in his eyes. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he’d done drugs. It’s unnatural for a human’s eyes to stay dilated for this long. But you knew Anakin, he was just high on you.

Diary Entry: August 28th continued

I have so much energy and I don’t know what to do with it all. I might try bench pressing a school bus, I could probably make it move alittle. If I didn’t give myself a hernia first.

What I really need is more of you. I thought a little sweet treat might tithe me over but I was WRONG. I’m feeling a new kind of insatiable.

It’s time for Ghost to get back to his old tricks with a new accessory: my rarely worn tongue stud.

Man I love it though, it clacks against my teeth so good. I can hear it in my brain for like, minutes after I’ve done it. Such a satisfying sound. Its crisp.

Which is unfortunately the reason why I can’t wear it often anymore.

I click clacked it around my bottom row of teeth too much and the dentist made me promise not to do it anymore. Turns out abstinence is actually the best method when it comes to prevention. If it’s not in my mouth I can’t fuck up my teeth, but I can play with my lip piercings. Yeehaw I love a loophole.

Anywho. I feasted on my favorite meal today and I desperately need more before I actually go insane. I need to taste you. I need to feel you. I need to fuck you til I lose consciousness.

I want you to be awake though because as hot as it is to watch you cum in your sleep, it’s even hotter to see you reacting to the things I say. Deny it all you want baby but you’re my whore.

Ghost, Anakin, both. You’re willing to do anything for my cock.

Date

August 28th continued.

Anakin can’t keep his hands to himself. It’s like he’s been corrupted by an incubus, he’s turned into an insatiable beast that just can’t stop. You’ve seriously considered the possibility that he may have somehow gotten his hands on some ecstasy and a suped up gas station boner pill.

Though logically you know exactly what is happening. He’s just giddy and feeling a weight lifted from his chest after confessing to you. It makes perfect sense. Carrying a secret like that is a burden, you know that very well by now.

Anakin is purely running off adrenaline fumes and endorphins. He’s burning it off the best way possible, by touching you in every direction, position, time, space and dimension that he can put you in.

He’s fucked you twice after taking you home from work today. Kitchen counter? From the back with your legs dangling helplessly, your sweaty skin sticking to the countertop. Coffee table? He pushed you down on it, swiping off the scattered items on it, including the freshly made sandwich and chips you’d brought him. He had said ’F-fuck… you’re just so sexy when you’re domestic.’

Right now on your third go around, he had finally, finally agreed to take you to the bed after you’d formed a triangle shaped bruise from the corner on the kitchen counter.

“M’sorry baby,” He whispered, licking away the dull pain on your hip from between your legs. “didn’t mean to.”

“I know Ani,” you breathed out, “it’s not your fault.”

“It is.” He nodded, pulling you toward the edge of the bed and gently helping you onto you hands and knees. “My poor girl.”

“You’re just so pretty. You’re so perfect. You’re so… you.” He sighed, standing behind and to the side of you to caress your injured hip.

His rough palm glided over the hot, sticky skin of your spine to brush your hair away. His free hand slowly tracing a delicate pattern across the plumped flesh of your ass, all five digits teasing the skin with tingling trails of warmth.

His lips caressed your tender skin up and down your side while he lovingly slipped a finger between your pussy lips. He groaned and made a fist between your shoulder blades to keep control of himself, your wetness feeding his need to be sheathed inside your warm and welcoming cunt.

“Pretty, pretty baby.” He whispered, his voice cracking while he brought his burning hot cheek down to rest against the swell of your ass, toying with his lip piercings to stifle a moan at the sloppy noises his pointer finger made on its descent into your depths.

“You’ve been so good for me.” He praised you, massaging your shoulder with one hand, kissing your ass cheek as he turned his head and rested the other side of his blushed face there, switching sides to watch your expressions change with each plunge of his finger.

“My little girl…” he growled, low and deep in his throat, “letting me take what I need.”

“Just wanted you to feel good Ani.” You sighed, gratefully accepting a second finger from him, feeling him twist his wrist back and forth with each slow thrust.

“Mmm, I did sweetheart.” He chuckled, “trust me, it’s hard to feel anything but heavenly when I’ve got my hands on you.”

“You’ve been so needy.” You whined, letting him guide your hand to your clit so you could rub yourself at your own pace along with his languid fingers.

“I know.” He clicked his tongue. “Are you okay sweetheart?”

“Course I’m okay.” You moaned, leaning back against his hand while his fingertips pressed and massaged your inner core.

“I put your poor little body through a lot today huh?” He cooed, switching his free hand over to your other shoulder to massage it the same as the other.

He smiled widely as he watched your face relax and felt your breathing slow into a steady rhythm. He felt proud. Proud of you, of himself, of his self control.

“Felt good Ani.” You whispered, your fingers tightening around the sheets in your fist while you rocked back onto his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers. “I needed it too.”

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, hearing the content sigh escape your lips. “You think you can cum for me again baby?” He asked softly, kissing the small of your back.

“N-no.” You whimpered, shying away from his gentle probing fingers.

“You sure sweetheart?” He asked, slowing his movements even further. “It’s okay baby, I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”

“M’sure.” You shook your head rapidly, “I can’t.”

“Okay baby.” He chuckled, “ready for me to stop then?” He asked.

“No… not yet.” You said quietly. “Lay with me?”

“Oh sure thing princess.” He grinned, removing his fingers just long enough for him to turn off your lamp and help you slide under the blankets, his nakedness pressed firmly against yours.

“Mm, you’re so warm,” you giggled, Anakin’s arms wrapping around you tightly while he kissed the nape of your neck, spooning you from behind.

“Cozy?” He asked with a gruff tone, slipping his fingers back into your messy pussy from behind to continue the slow and gentle caresses.

“So cozy.” You nodded. “I’m gettin’ sleepy.” You said tiredly.

“I figured so.” He nodded, his voice a soft whisper. “I’ll lay with you until it’s time for me to leave for work okay?”

“I’ll make sure everything is all locked up when I leave, I’ll kiss you bye.” He spoke low and soothingly as he gently rubbed your neck, removing his fingers from your folds when he heard your breathing slightly change.

“I’ll text you,” he whispered, sucking your slick from his fingers between words, not hiding his hard-on as it pressed against your ass. “when I get there and when I get back home. I’ll miss you so much until I see you again tomorrow.”

Soon enough you were deep in sleep and Anakin was glad he’d made you take your pills at dinner time, he’d thought ahead and considered the very real possibility that you’d end up being fucked to sleep.

He was right of course.

——————————————————————————

“Anakin what the hell man?” Trevor chortled shoving a handful of ice down the back of Anakin’s shirt in retaliation to the towel-whip he’d dealt Trevor.

“What? Can’t a guy be happy?” Anakin laughed.

“Happy? Nah you’re fucking hyper.” Trevor grinned. “What’d you do that’s got you feeling so good? Gimme some.” He teased.

“Shut up, the hardest thing I do is pot you know that.” Anakin snorted.

“Then what’s the deal?” Trevor splayed his own hand a few inches from his face.

“I’m love drunk baby.” Anakin waggled his eyebrows and shimmied his shoulders.

“Jesus I don’t even know you! Who are you and what have you done with my jackass?” Trevor grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him with a laugh, turning to pour a beer on tap for a patron.

“I ate him.” Anakin shrugged and giggled.

“I’m calling your girlfriend. I don’t know if I can be around you anymore.” April said, walking past the two of them with a serving tray.

“She needs a break from me, she’s very tired.” Anakin said with a proud grin.

“Oh my god!” April cackled and made a quick exit from behind the bar to serve drinks at a corner table.

“Fucking freak.” Trevor snickered.

“That’s what she said.” Anakin stuck out his tongue and flicked it with an impish grin.

After an hour or so the bar traffic grew stagnant and Anakin stepped out back for a cigarette, flicking his zippo out to light the flame and swinging in shut. Letting a curl of smoke leave his lips to breathe in through his nose. He leaned back against the brick wall with his legs crossed at the ankles, raising his arms above his head to rest his fists on his forehead.

He was looking up at the hazy city-light polluted night sky, searching for stars, when the back door swung open and Trevor stepped out with a bottle of beer for himself and one for Anakin.

“Trade me.” He grunted, sitting down on an old wood crate and holding out the beer bottle, two fingers extended for Anakin to sit a cigarette between.

“Yessir,” Anakin nodded, going so far as to light it for his friend.

“Anakin.” Trevor said thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Anakin said, tipping up the beer bottle and watching the amber liquid bubble as he took a gulp.

“Did you hate me?” Trevor asked. “When you first started here?”

“What? Pfft, no what are you talking about?” Anakin asked, pushing off the wall with his black leather boot.

“I don’t know, you’re just different.” Trevor said with a shrug. “You just seemed so… excuse my critique; cold and distant.”

“Criticism accepted.” Anakin nodded. “It’s true I guess.”

“Yeah? So what changed?” Trevor asked in curiosity, a rare moment of vulnerability shared between two male friends wasn’t to be wasted.

“Met a girl. Got my shit together.” Anakin said, flicking cigarette ash to the pavement. “I love her you know?”

“Do you?”

“Mhm.” Anakin nodded. “I told her. She hasn’t said it back yet.”

“Well damn I’m sorry man-“

“No don’t be. She’ll say it.” Anakin held up his hand to stop him. “She just ain’t ready to admit it that’s all.”

“How are you not all depressed and shit?”

“I was, but I realized… I don’t care.” Anakin said simply. “I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care if I have to wait until I’m dead in the ground. I know she’ll tell me when she’s ready.”

“I had myself a bit of a freak out.” Anakin admitted, “but after I cooled off I’ve been… happier than I’ve ever been.”

“That why you’re all…” Trevor gestured to him with both hands.

“Yessir.” Anakin grinned.

“So you’re acting like you’ve won the fuckin’ lotto because your girl didn’t say she loved you?” Trevor raised his eyebrows.

“She doesn’t have to.” Anakin said, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, placing the cigarette between his lips, inhaling slowly. Grabbing it between his forefinger and thumb he brought it back down to his side and made an O with his lips, hollowing his cheeks and flicking the dip in his cheek to let a ring of smoke out.

“I know she does.” Anakin said, tilting his head back against the brick and letting it loll to the side to look over at Trevor. “She didn’t run off, she didn’t tell me to get lost, she laid there with me… pretty little head on my chest.” Anakin said, making a motion with his hand above his heart.

“Then today.” Anakin said, clicking his tongue with a smirk. “She sat on my face in the parking lot of the Bluebird during her break n’ let me fuck her all over the house when I got her home.”

“Jesus, here I was thinkin’ you were being sweet.” Trevor snorted, flicking his bottle cap so the it bounced off the toe of Anakin’s boot.

“If that doesn’t scream love I don’t know what does.” Anakin sighed contentedly, stubbing out his cigarette and dropping it into the designated rusty coffee can for cigarette butt.

——————————————————————————

“Hey, look Trev isn’t that the guy uh… the one who did that thing junior year of highschool?” April shouted over the din of the bar from the other end of the counter, pointing up to the smaller tv playing the news rather than the basketball game.

“Uh… hold on I can’t- I don’t have my glasses.” he said walking over and squinting, Anakin walking up behind him to look over his shoulder.

“Mm yeah that’s the guy they called- uh,” he thought for a second before snapping his right hand fingers and bringing his palm down on top of his fist, pointing up at the screen. “Duck! Didn’t they?”

“Yeah! Yeah, him.” April nodded, sucking on a lemon slice she’d dipped in sugar.

She turned back around and shook up the tumbler she was mixing a drink in, pouring it over two glasses and sliding it across the table to their owners.

“Why’d they call him that?” Anakin asked, wiping down the bar, before washing up some shot glasses.

“He’d duck his head up under the bleachers to look up girls skirts at the pep rallies.” Trevor said with a huff, “real shit guy.”

“Tried to sell my brother herbs instead of herb.” April turned around with an amused look on her face.

“Huh.” Anakin said, tonguing the inside of his cheek to hide a smirk. “Real shit guy indeed.”

“Surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” Trevor said with a chuckle.

“Why’s that?” Anakin asked, tossing his towel over his shoulder, rubbing his palms together while he sucked on the ball of one of his snake bites.

“Like I said, real shit guy.” Trevor scoffed. “Doubt they’re even looking too hard for the guys who did it.”

“Guys?” Anakin asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Yeah-“ he looked over his shoulder, “what’d it say April? Four of ‘em?”

“Yep.” She said, tossing her lemon rind in the trash.

“Damn.” Anakin shook his head.

“Yeah, the guy who ‘found’ him graduated with us too.” Trevor said, glancing back up at the tv and seeing it had switched over to the weather. “Supposedly it was a real mess, shit everywhere. Stole a bunch of stuff, some kind of drug related thing.”

“Well shit, poor guy.” Anakin shook his head, “that’d be a real nice thing to walk in on.”

“Well hell yeah it would, looking like the Red Seas in there.” Trevor snorted.

“How do you know?” Anakin asked with a smile.

“The dick posted it on his private Snapchat story before he called the cops.” Trevor said, “I didn’t see it, but my buddy did and he said it looked barf worthy, could smell it through the screen.”

“Goddamn that’s nasty.” Anakin winced, “thanks for that mental image.”

“I had to imagine it, so you did too.” Trevor said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Share the wealth or whatever.”

“Trev, I don’t think that applies to murder.” April said, walking past the boys.

“It does now, baby.” He said, tapping her ass as she walked past.

“Hey!” She shot him a dirty look but blushed and smiled anyway. “Told you not to do that at work.”

“Can’t help it.” Trevor shrugged. “Stress reliever.”

“Oh whatever.” She snorted.

“Anyway yeah- apparently the dude, Kyle Spencer, is suspect number one. He was high as a kite when he called Duck’s dad.”

“He called his dad?” Anakin asked confusedly, “not the cops?”

“His dad is the cops.” Trevor said, popping a piece of gum in his mouth before tossing a stick to Anakin.

“Oh shit.” Anakin scoffed, “so what, he called the guys dad to figure it out?”

“Mhm.” Trevor nodded. “At least that’s what everyone thinks. Cause Duck’s dad arrested the guy himself and seemed real ticked off about getting the call. He was at his other son’s house for the grandkids birthday.”

“Well, well, well.” Anakin snorted, covering his mouth to hide a grin as he poured a whiskey. “Isn’t that some good luck?”

——————————————————————————

“I’ve missed this.” Anakin sighed, cradling Boogie in his arms like a furry orange baby while he stood at the foot of your bed and watched you sleep.

“It’s the simple things you know?” He whispered, his filtered voice tapering in and out. He smiled beneath his mask, watching you stir slightly, kicking the covers off your feet.

He turned on his heel and walked out of the bedroom, setting your cat down on the kitchen counter and pouring her a third of a bowl of food. He took off his left hand glove to give her some chin scratches, then from the white patch between her eyes all the way to the end of her fluffy tail.

“You know, I used to really despise cats.” He said, leaning over on the counter and propping himself up on his gloved fist, watching her eat.

“The therapist I had as a kid said it was cause cats don’t automatically take to a person like dogs do.” He picked up her back foot and gently squish her paw pad to spread out her toe beans just to see her claws flex out.

“Cause they don’t listen. You can’t make ‘em listen, you can’t make ‘em do anything they don’t want.”

“I’m glad I met you.” He nodded. “You’re sweet, makes me… hmm, I wouldn’t say regretful. Just dissatisfied about before.”

“That’s okay though.” He sighed, “personal growth and whatnot.”

“I hope your momma won’t be too upset. I promised I’d start telling her before I visited, but you know tonight wasn’t really planned ahead and I got side tracked, and then sidetracked again, cause I’m here talking to you!” He chuckled, giving her a head pat.

“So hang out in here, okay kitty? I’ve got things to do.” He chuckled, unlacing his boots and setting them beside the front door, he made sure his socks were pulled up beneath his jeans and his gloves and sleeves were as they should be.

He crept back into your room, shutting the door behind him, thankful that you’d stayed naked after your evening escapade. You’d sprawled out, one leg bent and your arm above your head, the other hidden beneath the blanket along with your chest, middle and other leg. Anakin walked to the window and opened the curtain just the tiniest bit, allowing a sliver of moonlight to cast a pearly sheen across your exposed skin.

He stood and stared for a long while, having missed the scene before him. So many times he’d slunk in the shadows of your room, clinging to the wall to avoid disrupting that very beam of moonlight. He would scowl and chide you in his mind for leaving the curtains open, but he’d always, always, stop and observe the way you breathed under the pale periwinkle tinted light.

Once he’d had his fill of your nighttime innocence, he closed the curtain and returned you to the black of slumber, preparing to drag you with him on his path to midnight madness.

He lifted the blanket and folded it over out of his way, using the pretty patterned top sheet to cover his head after taking off his mask and placed it on the bed beside him.

Just for the extra security he tugged up his hood as well and hoped that he wouldn’t sweat to death before he could make you finish.

Slowly pushing your legs apart, he smiled at the soft breath you took in when he gently held your hip so that you wouldn’t shift out of position. Anakin pulled off his right hand glove and shoved it in his back pocket so it wouldn’t get lost beneath the sheets.

He kissed along your outer lips, pressing his nose against the crease at the apex of your thighs, inhaling the scent of you and dragging his tongue along behind as his nose traveled up that crease until he reached your hip, where the waist band of your panties should be. He took a moment to nuzzle into the softness of your lower belly, showering your satin skin with kisses before returning to your slit.

His mouth hovered over your folds as if he were mentally preparing himself to savor you slowly, compared to the fast-paced feasts he’d had on you earlier in the day.

With his tongue laid out flat he licked up the remnants of his cum and yours, introducing you to the warm ball centered toward the front of his tongue, purposely letting it catch against your clit. He breathed through his nose, leaving his tongue flat to circle and flick the metal ball over your clit, smiling in triumph when you jolted at the first movement.

He circled your entrance with the calloused pad of his thumb, slurping up your creamy slick from your folds. He flexed his tongue to swipe it side to side the bottom ball of the metal bar scraped along his bottom row of teeth, making a dull metallic sound that seemed much louder to Anakin than it was in reality so he halted his movements to listen for a change in your breathing.

After ensuring you wouldn’t ruin his fun too early he continued his gentle licks and prods of his tongue to your leaking hole. He pulled his mask closer to him, he needed to feel your heat around his fingers and he knew it wouldn’t take too long before you realized what was happening. After all, you didn’t drink your tea.

Inserting one finger slowly his curved it upward and flicked his tongue side to side at the same pace of his finger. He felt you stir beneath him, so he placed a sloppy kiss to your clit. Lazily licking across you rather than giving you calculated movements. He pushed in a second finger, groaning loudly at the squelch when your cunt hungrily sucked in the extra digit.

Your hands came down to push him away, trying to close your legs in your half-awake state.

“Ani?” You asked, trying to cover your drenched pussy with your hand when you felt an unfamiliar sensation slide over your clit, smooth and warm.

Anakin’s ego skyrocketed, but his penchant for deviant behavior told him that statement should be punished by Ghost. Although he’d have to make that decision later because you were getting whiny and impatient.

“Anakin, please.” You mumbled. “What’s that?”

Anakin halted his movements and slipped on his mask and quickly shoved his hand in his glove.

“I’ll give you one more guess little doe.” The modified voice cut through the fog of your sleep and you bolted upright.

“Ghost?” You gasped in surprise, pulling the blankets back over you. “You didn’t- why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Don’t be embarrassed baby,” he cooed, tugging the blankets away and running his leather hands up your stomach, stopping just beneath your tits. “This is an emergency visit and-“

“What?” You asked in confusion, your eyebrows furrowed. “What happened? What did you do?”

“Um… ow. Hurtful.” He said in a disappointed tone. “I didn’t do anything except develop a raging hard-on.”

“You ass!” You shouted, smacking at his arm. “You scared me!”

“Hey.” He barked. “Maybe next time let me finish talking yeah? Jumping to conclusions like that’ll strain a muscle.”

You stared at him in a state of… not shock or fear, but a bewildered sort of amusement. Once again: the audacity of this man is astounding.

“What?” He asked, sounding irritated.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” You snorted, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“W-wha… hey?” He stammered, confused by your laughter. “Are you laughing? What’s funny?”

“You.” Another laughed bubbled up from your chest.

“Wait- what? You… you’re...” His mouth gaping beneath his mask. “Are you for real?”

“Oh- I’m sorry no… no don’t be mad.” You said reaching out but snatching your hand back quickly after remembering what happened last time you touched him like that without permission.

“Mad?” His voice crackled, the modified voice hinting at hurt in his tone. “Why- why would you think I’m mad?”

“Doe, I’m… that makes me happy.” He said quietly. “This is the first time I’ve made you laugh.”

“What?” You scoffed, “no it’s not.”

“It is.” He said solemnly. “Trust me I keep track of things like that.”

“But-“

“No, no. Trust me.” He said, straddling your legs but not putting any weight on you. “You’ve done that dorky anxious laugh a few times. But I mean… that was a real one.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, your face falling when you realized he was probably right.

“Doe, I’m sure about everything when it comes to you.” He said low and serious, inching closer.

“I’m sorry.” You said, feeling horrible. “That- I’m sorry, that makes me feel bad.”

“Don’t.” He said sternly. “Don’t feel bad.”

“I just had the most fitting conversation earlier today.” He said slowly. “Talking about things and waiting till they’re ready. You laughed cause you were ready.” He said with a defining nod, cupping your cheeks with both hands and carefully caressing your under eyes.

“I’ve always been in favor of positive reinforcement.” Anakin said, smiling to himself. “Do you think you deserve a reward?”

“What is it?” You asked suspiciously, looking him over.

“Something new.” Anakin said simply.

“But,” he said, tilting his head toward you. “You have to promise that you’ll listen to me.”

“Okay…” you nodded cautiously.

“Good girl.” He gave you a curt nod in return, breathing deeply. “Now, I’m gonna give you some very simple instructions. If you do not listen, if you don’t follow them with precision, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” You nodded, frowning slightly.

Anakin very tenderly rested his leathered thumbs over your eyes, gingerly closing them and so, so, so carefully making sure they stayed closed.

“Listen closely.” His voice low and dangerous. “When I tell you it’s okay, I want you to take my mask off.”

“What?” You jolted in shock, this was not what you expected at all, you assumed it would be something much more… raunchy.

“Shut up.” He said sharply. “Quiet, listen to me.”

“Sorry.” You whispered, biting down on your lip and fidgeting with your fingers.

“When I tell you it’s okay, you are going to take off my mask. You’re going to be quiet. You’re not going to talk. You’re not going to hear me talk. You will not move. You will keep the mask in your hands, in your lap, and you will not touch me.” Anakin’s voice was clearly conveying a seriousness that couldn’t be ignored.

“Yes sir.” You nodded.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He dropped his hands immediately and squeaked out the most pitiful unfiltered noise a man could make.

He didn’t hide it when he palmed his cock, he didn’t seem surprised when you moaned after he grabbed your face. He did lean down, eye level to you and lace his free hand’s long fingers with yours.

“Say it again f’me doe.” He groaned, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing length.

“Yes sir.” You repeated in a smaller, less confident voice. You hadn’t expected a reaction like this, you’d meant for it to come out snarky…

“New plan.” He grunted, fisting your hair at the top of your head to pull you into sitting position.

He got down off the bed and grabbed his bag from the floor, pulling out a pretty, pink, silk handkerchief and tossing it at you. Along with a pair of padded pink fabric handcuffs, Velcro, not metal clasps.

“What are you… what’s this?” You asked in surprise, an amused smirk on your lips.

“Well, you know the tape ah- just… oh fuck off.” He huffed folding the handkerchief to make a blindfold and carefully tying it tightly around your head, guiding your arms behind your back.

You heard the loud *skrrrriiip* of the Velcro coming apart, then felt the soft liner enveloping each wrist.

“No gag this time?” You huffed, annoyed that he hadn’t finished his sentence, his explanation.

His belt buckle clanked around and he undid his zipper, guiding you to your knees in front of him. He pried your mouth open and pinched the tip of your tongue between his fingers, pulling it slightly before roughly pushing your head down, forcing his girthy length into your mouth.

“Gag on this.” He grunted, holding your head still while you choked around his fat cockhead, your eyes already beginning to water.

He thrust himself in shallow strokes but made sure to hit the back of your mouth every time as punishment, drool dripping down your bottom lip and onto his weighty balls each time they smacked the underside of your chin.

“I w-was gonna kiss you.” He gritted out, causing you to pull back in an effort to say something, but he forced you back down, fucking into your throat alittle deeper.

“Jesus, just listen damnit.” He barked out at you, tugging your hair. “I was trying to… fuck that feels good- mmph.” A puff of air left his nose and he inhaled through his mouth in a shaky gasp.

“Tryin’ to kiss you, m-make it special and soft.” He grunted. “Tried to get you something alittle nicer than some tape from the junk drawer and an old bandana.”

“Should’ve known better.” He groaned, gritting his teeth while he listened to your labored breathing.

“Bitchy little ungrateful brat.” He spat, thrusting harder after he’d said it just to drive his point home.

“Y-you would’ve still gotten your kiss if you hadn’t of smart mouthed me.” He panted. “Now you’re just gonna get a belly full of cum.”

“When are you going to learn?” He chuckled, looking down at you and red tinted face. He pulled out his phone, turning on the flash and hitting record.

“You were being such a good girl.” He moaned, low and gravely. “Callin’ me sir? Good manners. That was a good job, little doe.”

“Then you you went and screwed it up didn’t you? Hmm?” His condescending tone sent a zap of lighting to your core. “Smart mouthing me like I’d let you get away with it.” He scoffed.

“Apologize to me sweetheart.” He demanded, grabbing you by the neck just beneath your jaw and squeezing when you didn’t answer. “C’mon you know you were bad.”

You breathed out through flared nostrils and blinked away your tears, you spoke as best you could but of course it was hardly more than a few choppy sounds.

“Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk with a full mouth?” He laughed, smacking your cheek gently.

“Oh don’t do that baby.” He cooed, his hips slowing as you tried to wriggle free from your restraints.

“Tell you what…” He pulled up your blind fold and tossed it aside. “let’s play a game.” He grunted. “Just be still for a second okay? Then we’ll talk.” He carded his fingers through your hair and nearly keeled over on the spot when your eyelids fluttered, showing just the whites of your eyes.

He doubled over, accidentally shoving his length farther than he meant to, shooting salty ropes down your throat, a choked moan left his lips as his knees buckled slightly.

“Holy shit- oh fuck…” He panted, doing his best to pull back slowly so as not to hurt you. “Sorry baby.” He mumbled sheepishly, quickly tucking himself back in his boxers.

“You okay?” He breathed out, crouching down and getting on your level after stopping the recording.

“Mhm.” Your lungs felt heavy, coughing from your sore throat. “M’fine.”

“Stand up.” He said firmly, but not in a commanding way, more of a ‘I know what’s best for you please just do it’ way.

You nodded and stood up to face him, waiting for further details but you got none. Anakin spun you around and removed your cuffs, grunting in approval when he saw he’d managed not to mar up your pretty skin on accident with these new bindings.

Then, gentle hands on your shoulders turned you back around. He just stood there and stared at you. You hated when he did that, it was so hard to judge his mood already. But when he was quiet and still? Impossible.

“Do you know what a safe word is?” He asked.

“Yes…” you said, looking off to the side.

“Good. Yours is purple, got it?” He asked, gripping your chin.

“Okay. Safe word is purple.” You nodded, gauging his unmoving form cautiously.

“Put on some pjs.” He said plainly, flipping out his knife, one you hadn’t seen before, just to play with while he waited.

“Is that new?” You asked quietly, trying to make some kind of semi-normal conversation.

“What? This?” He asked, flipping it closed and holding it out to you.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Is it?”

“You noticed.” He said simply, swinging his hand side to side in a gesture for you to take it.

“I’m smarter than I look.” You snorted, taking it from him and carefully opening it.

“We’ll see.” He said in a flat tone, his mood changed slightly now.

“Roses?” You asked, closing the handles back to look at the carved design in black metal with red backing.

“I bought that one just for you. I thought maybe you wouldn’t mind it as much if it were pretty.” He said softly, reaching his hand up behind his head to scratch his neck as though he were anxious.

“I- well.” You sighed, stunned by him for the thousandth time. “That’s actually very sweet Ghost.”

You awkwardly handed it back to him, unsure how to navigate this calmer water with him. You gave him a crooked smile and finished getting dressed.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not that. I like that one.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Fine.” You slipped back out of the matching set you had chosen, and tossed it in the drawer without folding it.

“Move.” He grunted, pulling out your bottom drawer and grabbed an old tshirt of Anakin’s and a pair of his loose boxers that you sometimes wore as shorts. “Put them on.”

You scowled, but tried to bite back your words. In some strange way of his own he was being nicer. He was trying. He obviously felt terribly about how he’d scared you into a panic attack, he cared enough to check up on you. You may as well play along.

After getting dressed you put your hands on your hips and faced him squarely.

“Run.”

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“Run.” He barked, his voice gritty and dangerous, he stood up to his full height and flicked open his knife again. “Get movin’, go!”

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