❝ — That's it, baby boy, ❞ Shannon grunted as Patrick shifted, tightening the grip of his legs around his shoulders and locking his ankles firmly against the back of his neck. There was just.. something about this position; Patrick's knuckles blanched a near-deathly shade of pale, and the muscles in his arms pulled taut as he clung to the metal bar, taking his massive cock far deeper than he ever had before. It was fucking incredible, despite the strain it put on his back to take him like this.
❝ — Look at you, ❞ came his breathless, awe-struck murmur a few moments later as he leaned forward ever so slightly, pressing his lips to Patrick's for a quick kiss. ❝ Mn, I love watchin' your cock leak like this.. ❞ He glanced down once more, delighting in the sight of Patrick's impossibly hard, twitching cock - watching a few drops of precum drip lazily from its swollen head to trail the length of the underside of his cock, only to disappear on his equally swollen balls. Taut, surely filled nearly to bursting, they bounced loudly off his lower abdomen with each deep, unhurried thrust he gave.
❝ You're doin' so good. ❞ On the cusp of that whispered praise, he broke his rhythm to grind sharply against Patrick's ass - rolling his hips smoothly. Then he let them fall still for a moment, opting to simply keep himself buried deep inside him. ❝ You're doin' so good, baby.. but I don't think I'm ready to let you cum just yet. I wanna see how long you can last like this. ❞
Patrick’s whole body trembled under the overwhelming stretch and depth. His legs were folded nearly in half, ankles locked tight behind Shannon’s neck, while his hands gripped the metal bar above him so hard his knuckles had gone bone-white. Every slow, powerful thrust forced Shannon’s massive cock impossibly deeper, pressing against places inside him that made his vision spark white.
“Fuck… Shannon—” he gasped, the words breaking into a broken moan as Shannon ground in deep and held there, rolling his hips in that devastating way that made Patrick’s cock twitch and leak helplessly.
His own dick was painfully hard, flushed dark and throbbing against his stomach. A thick bead of precum rolled down the underside before dripping onto his balls with every heavy slap of Shannon’s hips. He could feel how full and tight they were, aching, desperate for release, but Shannon wasn’t giving it to him.
Patrick’s chest heaved, sweat sliding down his temples as he stared up at Shannon through half-lidded eyes. The praise hit him like a drug.
“That’s it, baby boy…” “You’re doin’ so good…”
It made his hole clench hard around Shannon’s thick cock, drawing a low groan from the man above him. Patrick’s back arched as much as the position allowed, a wrecked whimper escaping his throat when Shannon stayed buried to the hilt, simply pulsing inside him.
“I meant every single one. I’m not filtering shit tonight… not with you.”
He kissed him back slowly, deeply, pouring everything into it — the affection, the want, the relief of finally letting himself fall into this without guarding his heart. One hand cupped Beau’s face tenderly while the other slid down his chest, fingertips tracing every line like he couldn’t get enough of just feeling him.When Beau said he wasn’t leaving tonight, Patrick’s breath hitched. He pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, completely unguarded.
“Good,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Because I don’t want to go anywhere. I want to stay right here… in your bed, under you, on top of you, whatever you want. I just want to be with you.”
Beau cupped Patrick’s cheek gently as he leaned in, pulling him into a kiss that immediately softened the space between them. His eyes drifted shut almost instinctively, as if the world had narrowed down to nothing but the feeling of Patrick there, close and real. He got lost in it without meaning to, letting himself sink into the moment until the need for air finally made him pull back slightly, breath uneven. His hand didn’t leave him though, instead sliding slowly over Patrick’s chest as if grounding himself there.
"Under me," he answered, the words coming with a quiet intensity as he shifted, spinning them both with an easy confidence so their positions changed. There was no rush in it, only certainty. "Always," he added against Patrick’s lips before kissing him again, deeper this time, like he was refusing to let the moment fade. Beau’s fingers tightened briefly in Patrick’s hair, careful but firm, not pulling so much as anchoring him there. He paused just long enough to search his face, his voice softer now. "That okay with you?"
Patrick’s breath caught as Beau flipped them, the sudden shift sending a fresh wave of heat rushing through him. Being underneath Beau like this — pinned by his weight, surrounded by him — felt perfect.
He looked up at him with wide, shining eyes, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his flushed face.
“Yeah,” he whispered, voice rough and full of want. “It’s more than okay. I want you on top of me. I want to feel all of you like this.”
He reached up, sliding both hands into Beau’s hair and pulling him down into a deep, hungry kiss. His legs parted naturally, wrapping around Beau’s hips to draw him closer, bodies pressing flush together. A soft, needy sound escaped into Beau’s mouth as he rolled his hips up, letting him feel how hard he still was, how much he wanted this.
“Fuck, I love the way you feel on top of me,” Patrick murmured against his lips between kisses, completely unguarded. “Heavy… warm… safe. Don’t hold back, Beau. I want everything.”
One hand trailed down Beau’s back, nails lightly dragging over his skin before gripping his ass, encouraging him to press down harder. He kissed him again, slower this time, deeper, like he was trying to pour every bit of affection and desire straight into him.
[ Kiernan, for Patrick~ ] ❝ Keep goin'. Fuck, just.. just keep goin'. ❞
@coinquinatvs
Patrick's hands, slick with warm oil, glided slowly over Kierran's naked back, the muscles beneath his palms flexing and relaxing under the firm, sensual pressure. He could feel the heat radiating from Kierran's skin, hear the ragged moan that escaped him—"Keep goin'. Fuck, just.. just keep goin"—and it sent a fresh surge of arousal through Patrick's own body.
He smirked softly, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against the nape of Kierran's neck as he worked his way lower. His strong fingers kneaded down the curve of Kierran's spine, then over the firm swell of his ass, spreading the oil in long, teasing strokes. But Patrick's focus kept drifting—had never really left—the thick, hard length of Kierran's cock trapped between his body and the massage table.
Patrick shifted, pouring more oil directly onto his palm before wrapping his hand around Kierran's cock from behind. He stroked him slowly at first, twisting his grip at the head, letting the slickness make every movement smooth and filthy. His thumb circled the sensitive underside, pressing just enough to draw another desperate sound from Kierran.
Patrick's hips snapped forward sharply, burying his cock to the balls inside Shannon’s tight ass. The desperate plea — “Cum inside me” — hit him like gasoline on fire.
He was completely lost in the feeling. Shannon’s hole clenched around him, hot and slick with lube, gripping every inch of his throbbing dick as if trying to milk him dry. Patrick’s muscles flexed, sweat dripping down his chest as he fucked into him harder.
“Fuck… Shannon,” he growled low, voice wrecked with lust.
His fingers dug into Shannon’s hips, pulling him back roughly onto his cock with every thrust. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Patrick could feel his orgasm barreling toward him, that deep pressure building fast.
He leaned over Shannon’s back, teeth grazing his shoulder as he drove in deep and stayed there.
With a guttural groan that tore from his chest, Patrick came hard.
Thick ropes of cum pulsed violently into Shannon’s ass, flooding him with every powerful spurt. Patrick kept thrusting through it, short and greedy, pushing his load deeper inside him. He didn’t pull out — he stayed buried to the hilt, cock twitching as he emptied every drop into Shannon’s tight heat.
“Shit… take it all,” Patrick panted against the back of Shannon’s neck, voice hoarse and possessive.
he fucked Spike harder through his orgasm, hips snapping forward with punishing force, chasing his own release while milking every last drop from the oversensitive vampire. The silver sigils burned brightly between them, flooding Spike with wave after wave of euphoric magic.
Only when Spike’s hand clumsily grabbed at his shoulders, weak and trembling, did Patrick finally let himself go.
With a deep, guttural moan, Patrick slammed in to the hilt and came hard, pulsing thickly inside Spike. His hips stuttered as he filled him, grinding deep through every wave of pleasure, making sure the vampire felt every throb.“Mine,” he growled against Spike’s ridged brow, voice hoarse and possessive. “All fucking mine right now.”
Finally, Spike's body dropped absolutely spent, even if he twitched a bit in aftershocks. His face reverted back to it's normal visage and his chest heaved reflexively with a small smirk playing on his lips at Patrick's words.
Something in them sent another different thrill through him as the magic still trumped through his cells. It took a few minutes for Spike to find some semblance of his voice, "Mm... Damn.... " his voice was rough but he smiled lazily. "More than whut I thought you had in you."
he whispered, a hint of smug satisfaction in his tone. “Every time you move. Every time you sit down. You’ll remember exactly how hard I fucked you.”
He pulled back just enough to look into Spike’s eyes, his expression softening into something fonder.
“But you were perfect,” he added quietly, thumb brushing over Spike’s bottom lip. “Absolutely fucking perfect.”
Patrick settled more comfortably on top of him, still buried inside, clearly in no rush to move.
“Still think I can’t keep up with you, darling?” he asked with a playful smirk, gently nipping at Spike’s jaw. “Or are you ready to admit I won that little bet?”
Shane stares at Jack for a long beat, his expression flat except for the faint furrow between his brows that deepens the longer the other man talks. The monitors beep steadily beside him, and he shifts slightly against the pillows, wincing as the movement pulls at bruised ribs.
He lets the silence stretch just long enough to be uncomfortable before exhaling through his nose.
"...Truth," he says finally. His voice is low, a little rough from disuse and whatever pain meds they're pumping into him. He meets Jack's eyes with the same stubborn calm he's been wearing since they brought him in, though there's a reluctant glint of amusement buried under the exhaustion.
He lifts one shoulder in a minimal shrug. "Ask your question, then."
His tone makes it clear he's not exactly thrilled about playing games in the middle of the ER, but he's even less thrilled about the alternative—actually explaining how he ended up here.
The second Shane says truth, Jack points at him immediately. “Excellent choice. Proud of you.” The approval is delivered with the kind of sincerity that makes it impossible to tell whether he's joking or not.
For a moment he leans back on the stool, considering his options like this is a very serious strategic exercise. Then his gaze settles back on Shane. “What's the dumbest thing you've ever done?” The question arrives without warning.
Jack holds up a hand before Shane can object. “Not today. Not how you got here. Ever.” One eyebrow lifts slightly. “Lifetime achievement award level bad decision. The one that keeps you awake at three in the morning and makes you stare at the ceiling.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Because right now I need to establish a baseline. I need to know whether today's events are part of a pattern.”
Outside the room, somebody shouts for respiratory and a monitor alarms briefly before falling silent again. Jack doesn't even glance toward the noise. “Think carefully,” he continues, settling more comfortably on the stool. “This is important medical information. Potentially diagnostic.”
A brief pause follows before he adds dryly, “And if your answer turns out to be whatever landed you in my ER tonight, then congratulations. You just accidentally answered my original question.”
Shane’s eyes narrow slightly at Jack’s little victory comment, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. He stays quiet while the doctor lays out the question, his jaw tightening just a fraction at the “baseline” and “pattern” parts. The monitors continue their steady rhythm beside him as he stares at the ceiling for a long moment, clearly weighing how much he actually wants to give.
Finally he lets out a slow, tired breath and drags his gaze back to Jack.
" Possibly lying to myself and act upon my lies so I can believe them, thus hurting someone I cared about." He said, his sigh was sounding heavy more than anything. It felt a bit estranged to say that to a stranger , especially the one that had taken care of his flesh wounds. Hell even his self didn't seem to remember that much about anything.
He shifts against the pillows, grimacing as the movement jars his ribs again. A faint, humorless smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.
“Still not as stupid as whatever you’re imagining I did this time, though.”
Shane lifts one eyebrow, the stubborn set of his shoulders making it clear he’s not about to elaborate further unless forced.
Shane glanced up from where he was reclining against the headboard, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he took in the sight of Illya standing in the doorway with the bowl of ice cream. The athlete’s disciplined frame looked almost too tempting holding something so indulgent.
Shane’s eyes sparkled with mischief. He patted the spot on the bed beside him invitingly.
“Come here,” Shane said, his voice warm and slightly husky. “I need you right next to me… and a bite of that ice cream.”He let his gaze drift slowly over Illya’s body before meeting his eyes again, the smile turning playful.
For a moment, Illya was torn in what to do. He could turn away, clutching his ice cream like Gollum clutching His Precious. Or he could do the noble thing and give his boyfriend some of his sweet treat.
But, that look in Shane's eyes.
Fuck.
He was so gone on Shane that he couldn't help but to move towards him. He pulled Shane right into his lap and brought a bite of ice cream to his lips, compete with a bit of whipped cream.
"Open."
And then, he brought the spoon full to his boyfriend's mouth before kissing away a bit of cream from the corner of it.
"I would not share my ice cream with small children with big begging eyes. And yet, I can not deny you, Hollander."
When Illya commanded “Open,” Shane obeyed with a playful glint in his eyes, parting his lips and taking the offered spoonful of vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, and whipped cream. A little moan of appreciation escaped him at the sweet taste.
Before he could even swallow, he felt Illya’s warm lips brush the corner of his mouth, kissing away the stray cream. Shane’s eyes fluttered half-closed, a shiver running down his spine.
He licked his lips slowly, savoring both the dessert and the kiss, then leaned in closer until their foreheads nearly touched.“You’re spoiling me,” Shane murmured, voice low and affectionate, a teasing smile tugging at his mouth. “And here I thought you were the strict, no-indulgence star athlete. Turns out you’re weak for me… I like that way more than I should.”
He didn’t stop. He fucked Spike straight through his climax, hips slamming forward with relentless force, driving deep into that spasming, oversensitive heat. The silver sigils burned like brands against Spike’s skin, pouring even more magic into the overwhelmed vampire as his demonic visage finally broke through — brow ridging, eyes flashing gold, fangs fully extended.
Patrick groaned at the sight, hips stuttering for a moment at how beautiful and feral Spike looked like this.
“Look at you,” he panted, voice wrecked with pleasure. “Finally letting the demon out for me.”
He leaned down and bit hard into the ridged brow, then dragged his tongue across one of Spike’s fangs as he continued pounding into him without mercy. One hand gripped Spike’s hip bruisingly hard, the other wrapped around his oversensitive cock, stroking him through the violent aftershocks.
“You’re shaking so hard,” Patrick moaned against his ear, hips snapping forward brutally. “So fucking tight around me. You’re coming apart, love. Just like I wanted.”
Spike’s body kept spasming, clenching rhythmically around him as Patrick chased his own release. The sight of the demon beneath him — fangs bared, eyes glowing, completely lost — finally pushed Patrick over the edge.
With a deep, guttural groan, Patrick slammed in to the hilt and came hard, pulsing deep inside Spike as pleasure tore through him. He kept moving through it, grinding slow and deep, filling the vampire with every drop while holding him down against the torn sheets.
The sigils seared into his skin, leaving marks as Spike vaguely processed Patrick's words about how he appeared.
The bite to his brow elicited a deep growl from his demon side.
He felt the hand grip his member and he let out another feral groan, as itbadded another sensation to his already over sensitized firm. He had already been leaking and thisbsent the stars in his vision to a bruised shield of color as he and shuddered again. At that point he lost all control and climaxed again, spilling over Patrick's working hand, even as the witch redoubled his punishment and praised him for losing himself.
Then Spike felt Patrick fibally climax and then head empty into him. His hand blindly moved to tmgrip at his shoulders clumbsily as he groaned almost weakly, entirely spent as he continued to twitch beneath him.
he fucked Spike harder through his orgasm, hips snapping forward with punishing force, chasing his own release while milking every last drop from the oversensitive vampire. The silver sigils burned brightly between them, flooding Spike with wave after wave of euphoric magic.
Only when Spike’s hand clumsily grabbed at his shoulders, weak and trembling, did Patrick finally let himself go.
With a deep, guttural moan, Patrick slammed in to the hilt and came hard, pulsing thickly inside Spike. His hips stuttered as he filled him, grinding deep through every wave of pleasure, making sure the vampire felt every throb.“Mine,” he growled against Spike’s ridged brow, voice hoarse and possessive. “All fucking mine right now.”
her own dark with desire and a hint of that familiar mischief. “You’re always so impatient when you get like this,” she whispered, voice low and warm. Her free hand slid up his chest, nails grazing lightly as she finally shrugged the rest of the way out of her blouse, letting it fall forgotten to the floor.
Leaning in, she brushed her lips along his jaw, then closer to his ear. “But I love when you beg, Ed.”
With a gentle push, she guided him back toward the bed until his legs hit the edge. She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands working open his jeans with practiced ease. Her gaze stayed locked on his as she tugged the fabric down his hips, freeing him completely.
“Better?” she murmured, her breath ghosting over him teasingly before she leaned forward and took him into her mouth, slow and deep, one hand still wrapped around the base while the other rested on his thigh. The rosary beads dangled against his skin with every motion.
Impatient? Ed?? Maybe so. But then again, he still felt as though he had to make up for all the time they'd lost in the beginning of their marriage - that first ten years, practically stolen from them by the Navy. And there was also the fact that he simply could n o t get enough of her; she was his only addiction - she always had been and always would be. All that not withstanding, they both needed to be cleansed of the days horrors... so yes, maybe he was impatient. But was that really such a bad thing?
His breath fell from his faintly parted lips in a heated rush at the feeling of her nails grazing his chest, especially as they skimmed over the scars there - both surgical and non-surgical. Even now, they were still highly sensitive to the touch. But it was the sight of her in naught but her bra and undone slacks, their thin cotton clinging desperately to her hips, that had the greater effect upon him.
Fuck, he needed her bare, and he needed it NOW. His hands rose once more with every intention of reaching around her to unfasten the clasps of her bra.. but they never made it that far. That push, as gentle as it was, propelling him back toward the bed derailed his plans completely, and it earned her a low groan of frustration in response.
❝ Lorraine. Honey, I.... ❞ ❛ Oh, fuck. ❜ She'd successfully derailed the complaint he'd meant to utter, too, by kneeling before him and finally tugging his jeans and boxers down over his sculpted hips, freeing his aching cock at long last.. only to lean forward and take it into the maddeningly warm, wet confines of her mouth mere seconds later. His eyes rolled back, then their lids fluttered to a close as one of his hands rose, reflexively, to rest against the back of her head - cradling it. ( No.. it wasn't exactly ' better ' in one sense, because he'd wanted to be the one on his knees for her. But it w a s in another, because her stroking him while he was still trapped in his boxers and jeans had quickly become more torturous than pleasurable. )
the vibration traveling through her lips as she took him deeper. She loved the weight of his hand on the back of her head, the way his fingers flexed like he was fighting the urge to take control. Her tongue swirled slowly, teasing the underside before she drew back almost all the way, only to sink down again with deliberate care.
She glanced up at him through her lashes, her eyes warm and full of affection even as her mouth worked him. Pulling off for just a moment, she stroked him with her hand, thumb brushing over the slick tip.
“You don’t always have to be the one taking care of me first, Ed,” she whispered, voice husky. “Let me have this. Let me make you feel good.”
She leaned in again, taking him back into her mouth with more urgency this time, her hand moving in perfect rhythm with her lips. Her free hand slid up his thigh, nails grazing lightly over his skin as the rosary beads clicked softly against him with every motion. She could feel how badly he wanted to flip their positions, but she wasn’t ready to let him yet. Not when she could feel him throbbing against her tongue like this.
A soft, needy sound escaped her as she worked him, her own arousal building with every groan and twitch she pulled from him. She wanted him desperate. She wanted him to lose himself completely before they came together.
He'd turned both of their cellphones off before they'd made it back to their hotel. After the particularly harrowing day they'd had, he knew well the one thing they needed was time to themselves.
It was a damn good thing they'd already gotten the room registered for the week, and had gotten their belongings squared away inside earlier that morning.. because the very last thing either one of them was worried about in that moment was hauling in bags and equipment; they were too lost in each other to care about anything else.
He couldn't quite pinpoint the exact moment their mood had shifted from somber to so wantonly lustful, but then again, he didn't really care either. — Her hands were in his boxers. The beads of her rosary rolled over his fever-plaigued skin as she teased him, stroking him to full, agonizing arousal in the confines of his boxers and jeans. His own hands had only just successfully tugged her unbuttoned blouse down the length of her arms, letting it bunch around her wrists. ( He would have preferred tearing it off of her, but she'd refused that idea, forcing him to fumble his way down that row of impossibly tiny buttons.. likely just to tease him further. )
❝ — Lorraine, ❞ he breathed out, with the faintest hint of gravel tinging his hushed tone, ❝ we can play later. Right now, ❞ he paused, dipping his head to press a quick, hard kiss to her lips, ❝ I need you; help me out, Hon. Please. ❞
@coinquinatvs
She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes,
her own dark with desire and a hint of that familiar mischief. “You’re always so impatient when you get like this,” she whispered, voice low and warm. Her free hand slid up his chest, nails grazing lightly as she finally shrugged the rest of the way out of her blouse, letting it fall forgotten to the floor.
Leaning in, she brushed her lips along his jaw, then closer to his ear. “But I love when you beg, Ed.”
With a gentle push, she guided him back toward the bed until his legs hit the edge. She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands working open his jeans with practiced ease. Her gaze stayed locked on his as she tugged the fabric down his hips, freeing him completely.
“Better?” she murmured, her breath ghosting over him teasingly before she leaned forward and took him into her mouth, slow and deep, one hand still wrapped around the base while the other rested on his thigh. The rosary beads dangled against his skin with every motion.
Shane stares at Jack for a long beat, his expression flat except for the faint furrow between his brows that deepens the longer the other man talks. The monitors beep steadily beside him, and he shifts slightly against the pillows, wincing as the movement pulls at bruised ribs.
He lets the silence stretch just long enough to be uncomfortable before exhaling through his nose.
"...Truth," he says finally. His voice is low, a little rough from disuse and whatever pain meds they're pumping into him. He meets Jack's eyes with the same stubborn calm he's been wearing since they brought him in, though there's a reluctant glint of amusement buried under the exhaustion.
He lifts one shoulder in a minimal shrug. "Ask your question, then."
His tone makes it clear he's not exactly thrilled about playing games in the middle of the ER, but he's even less thrilled about the alternative—actually explaining how he ended up here.
Shane lay sprawled on his back in the center of the bed,
completely naked, his skin already flushed and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. His cock was hard and leaking against his stomach, twitching visibly under Ilya’s gaze.
A soft, desperate whimper slipped from his throat as he kept stroking himself with slow, shaky strokes, just like he’d promised. His fingers tightened around his shaft, thumb swiping over the slick head on every upstroke, but he didn’t speed up. He knew better.“Ilya…” he breathed, voice hoarse and needy, hips rolling up into his own fist helplessly. “Fuck, baby… I’m so hard it hurts. Please…”
He didn't dare ask what she had seen.. not now. No, he simply held her against him, opting for temporary silence - allowing her a moment to collect herself. The only sound was their breathing; his calm and steady, and hers audibly uneven - almost ragged from terror. He would wait it out with her, holding her taut against him and simply breathing with her until she was truly calm once more.
❝ — Do we need to leave? ❞ She'd been triggered by something in the house, something that was obviously far darker than she'd been prepared for. — Granted, he knew that they couldn't abandon this family in their time of need.. but he could get Lorraine out of there for a while to spare her some horror and stress.
“No…” Her voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper at first. She swallowed hard and tried again, lifting her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes were still wide, rimmed red, but there was a fragile steel in them now. “We can’t leave them. Not like this. Whatever that was… it’s been feeding on this family for a long time. If we walk away now, it’ll only get worse.”
She pressed her forehead briefly against his collarbone, stealing one more second of his warmth before straightening. Her hands trembled as she smoothed them down the front of her blouse, trying to reclaim some composure.
“But Ed… it knows we’re here. It saw me seeing it.” A faint, haunted smile touched her lips despite everything. “It’s angry. And it’s strong. Stronger than anything we’ve faced in a long while.”
An audibly heavy sigh comprised of equal parts resignation and marrow-deep concern spilled from his faintly parted lips in response to her refusal. He'd expected it, but that expectation did nothing to make hearing it any less frustrating. Moments like this aroused his desire to be wantonly selfish in the worst possible way; his desire to protect Lorraine was always at especially violent odds with his desire to help others.. He wanted to walk away right then, and never look back.
He wanted to.. but he knew was no more capable of doing so than Lorraine. That wasn't who or how they were. ❝ Yeah. But us stayin' here is gonna make it infinitely worse than walkin' away - even if only for a few hours would've, ❞ he wasn't arguing; there was no point in it. He was merely stating an unfortunate truth.
❝ — With everything bein' this bad already.. we'll have to do this without the Church. ❞ That was yet another risk he had no desire to take; if anything should go wrong, they would have no choice but to bear the full weight of the repercussions on their own. ❝ I'll set up the equipment.. go through the motions, but everything we do here will be completely unsanctioned. ❞
“I know, Ed,” she said softly, almost apologetically. “I know you’d rather take me away from here. Part of me wishes we could… but you feel it too, don’t you? This house is bleeding. Those children… they don’t have anyone else.”She let her hand slide down to rest over his heart, drawing comfort from its steady beat.
“Without the Church, then,” she agreed, though the words carried visible weight. Her eyes flickered with unease. “It makes everything more dangerous. No safety net. No one to pull us back if we go too deep.”A faint, weary smile touched her lips as she looked up at him. “But we’ve done the impossible before… with nothing but our faith and each other. This thing is old. It’s clever. And it’s been wearing this family like a second skin. If we wait for approval, there might not be a family left to save.”
She stepped back just enough to look at him fully, though her fingers stayed laced with his.“I’ll be alright,” she promised again, even as the memory of what she’d seen still clawed at the edges of her mind. “Just… don’t let me go in alone when the time comes. Whatever this is, it’s been waiting for someone like us to challenge it. And I won’t give it the satisfaction of breaking me.”
