After the Canonical Happy Trail post I cannot go on about my day without imagining rubbing my entire face on it and getting my nose buried in it while he's all the way down my throat cause unfortunately I do believe he would be a head pusher in the moment
big II being a pussy eater truther. cant stop thinking about those strong hands of his holding your legs open by the base of your thighs and keeping them there so you don't move around too much. and if you do squirm around too much, he'll either moan into your pussy and go faster with his newfound motivation, or he'll swat the inside of your thigh and look up at you with those intense blue eyes and warn you, "be still."
but really he's not upset with you and he undeniably cant be mad at you when the noises you make whenever he slides two of his thick fingers into you are so fucking heavenly. he likes to see your back arch and your hips buck into his hand and hear your mouth start to babble and moan, "please, please, please--oh my god," over and over. it fuels his ego, makes him cockier. and he's already talker, too. hell talk to you and your pussy like you're some sort of filthy, sacred treat. "look at you, takin' me in so sweetly. can fuckin' listen to these noises all night long." but he's not just talking about you, he's talking about your pussy. then he'll start to scissor his fingers into you because he loves the lewd, squelching noises your juicy cunt makes when he does right before he asks, "want my mouth back on you, sugar? hmm? yeah?"
Halloween made me wanna write something, so this happened. Please be nice, Iâve not written any fanfic before. Reader is written as gender neutral but with female anatomy. Minors DNI!
Poly!Token, gn!reader (female anatomy but neutral pronouns used), inhuman!vessel, inhuman!ii, inhuman!iii, inhuman!iv, oral (f receiving), vampires, no beta readers we die like gods who were sharpening their blades
As you step outside, the cold air hits your face. Even under the layer of makeup and the numbing effects of the booze, itâs a cold night, and you are not wearing much, but itâs Halloween, a night for costumes and fun, and a little chill in the air wasnât going to stop you. The bar was loud, metal blasting through the open door, and the area out the front was almost completely full, people crammed around tables and under heat lamps, cigarette smoke and laughter filling the air. You just needed air - a brief respite from the noise and the heat and the press of bodies - but this bar was not good for that. Still, the drinks were reasonably cheap and the atmosphere was good, so youâre here anyway. But thatâs when you notice him.
Heâs tall, really tall, no - obscenely tall, stood at the other end of the small, fenced in patch of street that counts as a smoking area in this tiny, ancient city, smoking through a mask. Youâre not entirely sure how heâs managing it, given that the area over the mouth is almost like a muzzle, but manage it he does, as well as drinking with the aid of a straw. His laugh is rich, low and easy, echoing over the busy bar, his lanky frame stretching as he makes his excuses and slips through the throng of people toward you.
âLike what you see?â he says, leaning casually against the wall beside you, bleach-blond hair sitting above the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes youâve ever seen. You notice a sigil in his mask - the white of it stark against the black and gold that hide the rest of his face. It flows from his forehead down to just beneath his eyes, eyes that are now locked on yours. He must have caught you staring.
âIf youâre gonna look at me like that, darlinâ, at least let me buy you a drink.â
âLike what? Iâm just trying to work out what exactly youâre meant to be dressed as.â You cross your arms, almost defensive, leaning back a little, as he looks down and snickers before replying.
âOh, yâknow, all the usual masks get a bit dull, thought Iâd mix it up a little this year and try something new. So, how about that drink, huh?â
As annoying as his non-answer was, you do kind of want another drink, so you follow him inside and round to the bar, staffed by a Walking Dead-style zombie and a werewolf tonight, the bass from the speakers pounding as you hum along to a familiar tune. He orders a tequila sunrise for himself and an espresso martini for you, and manages to snag a recently-vacated table, sliding into the bench seating, one leg propped up as he sits at an angle in the corner, the leather of his jacket creating a horrible squeak as it drags against the bench.
âAnyway, Iâve got a while to spare before my friends catch up to me, and Iâd like to spend it chatting to a pretty little zombie if they donât mind the intrusion. Whatâre you doing out alone, anyway?â He asks this casually, staring at his phone as he does so, tapping away furiously, the telltale click click click of a phone keyboard barely audible above the music.
âWell, my friends ditched me to go clubbing and that isâŠnot exactly my sort of scene, and this place is open the latest. The musicâs a bonus. Figure Iâd either have a good night and make some friends, head home when I got tired, or meet back up with them when they get bored with cheesy 2000s hits.â You sigh as you tell him, not entirely sure why youâd tell this admittedly friendly stranger that the few friends you did head out with were elsewhere, but the bar is busy enough and youâre not exactly a stranger here, so it canât be too bad of an idea, right?
âAw, donât knock 2000s pop! Some of itâs awesome! Donât get me wrong, I like this sort of music more but youâve gotta admit, some of it is bloody catchy.â You can almost hear him pouting as he says this, half-shouting over the speakers, currently blasting Supermassive Black Hole, but you laugh along and agree. After all, heâs not wrong.
The pair of you waste time chatting, moving from what you do for work to what brought you to the city onto opinions on various horror movies and Halloween films. Turns out he loves The Lost Boys (âDavidâs justâŠcool. And hot. And badass.â), despises the remake of The Wicker Man (âThe original is just so much better, itâs a classic!â), and Twilight is a guilty pleasure (âThe soundtrack makes up for it, and the Volturi are awesome.â). Just as you finish debating which Cullen is the best (his vote is for Emmet), he jumps up excitedly as three more people join you, all different heights, and all masked - the same sigil on each one, too. One, the tallest of the new men, wearing a long black robe that cannot be offering any sort of protection against the chill in the air, least of all since heâs not wearing a shirt underneath, shifts his weight from foot to foot, visibly uncomfortable.
âHey, took you long enough! Guys, this isâŠwait. Fuck. I forgot to get your name, sorry, I feel like an idiot now.â The bounding energy fading as he curls up into himself out of embarrassment.
âY/Nâ you supply, giggling a little at how overexcited was. âGuessing youâre this guyâs friends, besides, donât hold it against him that he didnât get my name - we didnât exactly do introductionsâ.
The shortest, wearing a ripped-up black hoodie, mask formed into a frown with the sigil over his mouth, laughs and slides in next to you, and starts going round each of them to make introductions.
âSo youâve met III, Iâm II, the one standing awkwardly over there is Vessel-â the taller figure in the black robe looks up, eyes widening behind the mesh of his mask, his painted black mouth moving with wordless utterances as he reaches up to scratch the back of his head,
â-and this is IV.â He finishes, gesturing at a man in a mask mirroring that of the man youâve just learnt is called III, sliding into the bench seat beside him, snuggling into his chest a little as he does. Vessel looks around awkwardly before noticing the empty glasses on the table, and offers to grab everyone a round of drinks as he scoops up the empty glasses to take them back to the bar.
âI know what you two like,â he says, gesturing to II and III, âbut what about the pair of you? IV, I know you like the classics butâŠâ
âOhâŠuhâŠ.whisky sour for me please, unless thatâs what you were going for, then just grab a second one youâd like and weâll share.â IV replies, his pale blue eyes almost dripping with affection.
âNot sure - how about I come up, decide when I get there, and help you carry the drinks back to the table?â you say, sliding out of your seat and standing up, stretching a little as you realise how stiff youâve become from sitting at the table for as long as you have.
âSoâŠyou and III seem to be getting along?â Vessel says, or asks, you canât really tell, staring at his hands after putting the glasses on the bar and waiting for one of the bartenders to come and take your order.
âOhâŠumâŠyeahâŠI didnât realise thatâŠwell..â you stumble out, feeling almost as awkward as Vessel looked, the realisation of what he was on about setting in.
âNo, no, donât worry, he wouldnât do anything if the rest of us werenât ok with it, Iâm just wondering him what got him soâŠbubbly. Heâs usually more aloof with strangers but-â Vesselâs rushed apology and explanation is cut short by the zombie looking at the pair of you expectantly.
âPlease can I get a whisky sour, a dark and stormy, a double vodka red bull, a tequila sunrise andâŠuhâŠâ he looks between you and the bartender quickly, suddenly realising he didnât ask what you wanted and that the bartender got to you a lot quicker than he thought they would.
âAnother dark and stormy, please.â You fill in for him, and see him visibly relax as you do. The bartender grunts a nod, and turns around to make your order, keeping in character the entire time, before presenting a card reader and five full glasses to Vessel with a grunt. Vessel reaches over to pay quickly, lightly touching your arm to assure you that heâs got it, before picking up three of the glasses, rings on his long fingers, painted black like the lower part of his face, clinking gently against them. You pick up the other two glasses - one of them yours - and follow him back to the table, putting the second drink in your hands, a rather concerning yellow colour, next to II, assuming itâs his. Before you can sit down, Vessel reaches round and pulls your chair out for you, then squeezes in next to III, who slid closer to IV to let him in.
The five of you begin to chat, each of you taking turns to get more drinks as and when they run out, but the four men never seem to let you pay for the rounds. You put it down to them trying to be gentlemanly - Vessel is certainly living up to that - but IIIâs flirting becomes more obvious the later it gets, even with IV getting more and more tactile with him, as II begins to test the waters with you, too. A glancing look here, a gentle touch there, and before you know it, his hand is on your thigh. Vessel seems to be relaxing too, toying with IIIâs hair and occasionally giving you an almost timid smile.
You learn that theyâre all together, in a band, and they all live together. Turns out Vessel sings, and after long enough, he sings along to the songs playing over the barâs speakers when the conversation lulls. His voice is beautiful, the low notes rich and sultry; the high bare and vulnerable. You canât help but fall silent, entranced by the absent-minded vocals drifting effortlessly from painted lips. It doesnât take long for the others to join in, IV humming softly into IIIâs chest, II tapping on the table as if it were his drumkit. As beautiful as it is, you feel as if youâre intruding, and try to carefully slide out of your seat to head outside into the cold.
You get out, and feel your phone buzz against your thigh. Fishing it out of your pocket, you see several missed texts from your friends, and one new one coming in telling you all about their exploits at the club, and how theyâre now trying to get one of them into a taxi after she got plastered, demanded chips, and almost passed out, face now covered in cheese and gravy. You sigh, half laughing, remembering all the other times sheâs done that, and part of you wishes youâd been there. You love your friends, you really do, but some of them are not the smartest when they get drunk.
âEverything ok?â
You turn, surprised to see Vessel standing behind you, a worried look visible on the half of his face not covered by his mask.
âOh, yeah, I justâŠI felt like I was intruding. The four of you looked like you were having a moment andâŠâ you stumble out, words failing you at the end of it, awkwardness at being spotted beginning to take over. You had managed to stand beside the window next to their table though, so you arenât too surprised that youâd been seen.
âItâs alright, you werenât intruding, I justâŠsometimes I get overwhelmed by places like this and getting lost in the music helps. Are your friends ok?â He asks, gesturing at your phone. âIII mentioned you split up earlier and, well, he figured youâd check.â
âYeah, theyâre ok, Amy got a little too drunk and faceplanted into her chips, so theyâve headed home. Theyâll let me know when theyâre back if they donât collapse into bed the moment they all get in.â
âSign of a good night, I guess,â he chuckles, tentatively reaching out to grab your hand. You let him, the soft skin of your palm meeting calloused fingers as he gently traces shapes across and over your skin.
Every touch crackles beneath your skin, and he moves in closer, his left hand reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear before it dances beside your cheek. You press into his hand, quietly closing the distance between you two as he looks you up and down.
âI think I understand why III was so excited now.â he whispers, leaning in, the ghost of his breath making you shudder, a small smile flickering across his face before his lips meet yours.
The kiss is slow and tentative at first, but builds to a more sensual one as Vessel becomes more sure of himself, his arms snaking around you to pull you closer. The lips and tongue that can create such beautiful sound work magic against yours, a soft moan escaping your mouth as one hand dances across your back and the other slips into your hair. Even when it ends, he keeps you pressed close to him, a look of pure reverence on his face as his gaze fixes on you. Your heart flutters, the soft smiles and gentle touches making you feel safe with him, with the others, with all of this.
âShall we go back inside, or should I get the others and we could head off?â his tone is gentle, but thereâs a husky note to it, thick with desire but carefully held back, kept in check by a mix of awkwardness and care.
âOhâŠIâŠ.waitâŠall of you?â This comes as a bit of a shock - whilst II and III had clearly been interested, you hadnât realised Vessel and IV were too, and youâd never been with two people at once, let alone fourâŠ
âOnly if youâd want that, of course. But weâŠall of us want this. Want you.â As he says this, the others join you, III rocking on his heels, brimming with anticipation, II and IV looking up hopefully. 3 sets of blue eyes were trained on you, each one filled with hope, excitement and nervousness.
âWeâll take care of you, I promise. In every way you could want.â
The concept was intoxicating, almost as much as Vesselâs kiss was, and the idea of getting that again, from four menâŠwellâŠthey do say you only live once.
The walk back to theirs is not a long one, broken up only by a quick stop in a 24 hour corner shop for snacks and some juice.
âDonât want you feeling too awful tomorrow, and youâre going to need the energy.â
III had his arm wrapped around your shoulders now, IVâs hand brushing against your hips as his arm hung lazily around IIIâs waist, much as IIâs did yours. Vessel led the way, humming to himself quietly in the dark, and stops before a door.
Their home really wasnât far, and is grander than you thought it would be. Itâs old, thatâs for sure, but thatâs not unusual in this city. The door before you is a thick, old wooden slab with intricately carved metalwork filling in the rest. The hinges and fixings attaching them are painted black, with delicate flowers etched in each one, along with a brass handle sat above a matching keyhole. In the centre of the door sits a window, set behind a cage of black iron, a large peephole that must have seen thousands of faces over the years.
âWell, this is us, darlinâ!â III mutters, scooping you up to carry you through as the lock clicks and the door swings open, Vessel evidently anticipating this move of his. Vessel steps through, the plush red carpet silencing his already soft steps, and the rest follow. III kicks his boots off rather unceremoniously as IV reaches round to carefully remove your shoes, placing them on a shoe rack next to the trainers he and II had already taken off, Vessel busying himself with his tabis. The moment your and IIIâs shoes are clear of your feet, he excitedly bounds through the house, quickly moving through a living room, up the carved wooden stairs, and into a large bedroom before tossing you onto the bed. You hardly had a moment to catch your breath before he lands beside you, hands exploring, sliding up your shirt as he looks at you filthily.
âMmm, I canât wait to see whatâs beneath all thisâ he growls, voice dangerously low, as the door closes as the other three men catch up.
âYouâre not the only one, mate, but slow down. Let them breathe.â II utters, leaning against the door jamb, peeling his hoodie over his head and tossing it over a chair before gently prizing his mask up. Tattooed, muscly arms rippled as he tensed, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing an equally tattooed and muscly torso, dark hair grazing perfect cheekbones.
He moves over quickly, eagerly planting his lips on you, up your arm and over to your neck, as III sits back and pulls his mask off too, revealing cheekbones sharper than you could imagine and a jawline to match, covered in the slight stubble that comes from skipping a shave for a day or two. His lips begin to mirror IIâs, gently tilting your head back and into the soft pillows resting on the bed behind you, hand sliding up your stomach, pushing your shirt up a little as he moves. II spots this, and sits you up a little so he and III can pull your shirt off, before kissing down your chest, III nipping gently at you as he does whilst IIâs hands trace shapes across your stomach.
Vessel takes this chance to slide in behind you, chest pressed against your back as his mouth meets your neck, the cold porcelain of his mask brushing against your cheek. A soft moan drips from your mouth, the feeling of three mouths in you, all moving in perfect tandem, more arousing than you could ever have imagined. Vesselâs hands meander to your hips, gently tugging at your belt before nudging the waistband down so his hands can rest on your skin. IV had stripped himself almost bare, only his boxers left, and slides between your legs, filling the only gap on the bed left before tentatively drawing your jeans down and tossing them to the side, letting them land atop your already discarded shirt. Heâs less toned than II, with more to him than III and his lanky figure, but just as attractive. A small trail of hair leads up from the waistband of his underwear, becoming a thin line on his chest, a tantalising hint at what lies further down. His lips meet your thigh and you begin to lose yourself to the ecstasy of it all.
As time and space slip away, leaving only the four men surrounding you, teasing you, worshipping you, they all end up in a similar state of undress to you and IV. Vesselâs arms and torso smear paint all over your back as he kneels behind you still, IIâs hands exploring every inch of your exposed skin between peeling off layers of clothing, IIIâs teeth nipping gently at your chest, your neck, your hips, your nipples, wherever he can reach as IV grips at your thighs and arse, lavishing you with kisses. Itâs almost too much to handle, and small whimpers begin to tumble from your lips from the four men. You barely even notice II and IV slowly swapping places, lips never leaving your skin.
But you do notice II hum to himself, visibly excited, face so close and his breath dancing across your clit.
âOh, I am going to enjoy this.â
Thatâs all the warning you get before he pushes your knees back to your chest and his lips wrap around your clit, tongue gently probing it, moving in slow circles, as if searching for something. Heâs eating like a man starved, and that same man has just had his favourite dish placed in front of him. Shock and pleasure shooting your spine, body writhing from pleasure but held down firmly, though not harshly, by the four men who surround you. IIâs calluses fingers find your entrance, already slick, and he deftly slides one in, tongue still lapping at your clit hungrily. Fuck, the man is good. Then he hits that spotâŠ
âFuckkkâŠright thereâŠso goodâŠâ
You can barely form words from it already, but II doesnât need any more encouragement than he just received, having found the exact point that makes you squirm and moan and drool and melt all at once. His focus is like a laser, pushing and prodding and drawing with just the right amount of pressure to make you shake from anticipation, fingers dancing inside all the while. You two arenât the only ones enjoying this, either, as the others are all hard, cocks pressing into you as they begin to grind almost mindlessly, just as lost in what was happening as you were. Vessel was kissing your neck now, sucking slightly to match IIâs assault down below.
And that was when you felt it, something sharp, something painful, right in the crook of your neck, right where Vesselâs mouth wasâŠnoâŠis.
âAaaargh! What the FUCK?â
All four men pulled back suddenly, IIâs mouth still shiny from your slick, clearly confused until he locks eyes with Vessel. You push yourself up a little and whip around to see blood, your blood, dripping down his chin and sharp fangs protruding from his open mouth, head hanging ruefully.
âIâŠuhâŠI can explainâŠâHis tone was riddled with guilt and fear, his legs beginning to curl up as his arms cage his chest, drawing in on himself.
âYouâd better.â You cross your arms over your now naked chest, feeling exposed and a little angry.
âIâŠwellâŠIâmâŠit happens when I get too excited, if you catch my drift? I didnât realise I was doing it until you cried out andâŠfuck, Iâm so sorry, I didnât mean to hurt you, I should have said, I should have asked...â
âOk, I got that much - but more to the point, what the FUCK are you?â You cut him off in his rambling, neck still stinging, thankful he apologised for the sudden, pointy intrusion but still confused and angry about what just happened.
âI guess youâd call me a vampire?â
âAnd you?â You hurl, almost accusingly, at II, III and IV. âAre youâŠâ
III hung his head, awkward and uncomfortable.
âWell, those two are-â he gestures at II and IV, âand I am too, I guess, but Iâm alsoâŠkinda like a werewolf? But itâs not what you think!â
âAnd what do I think, III?â He went quiet then, curling up in a similar way to Vessel, face like a kicked puppy.
II moved to sit next to you, biting his wrist before smearing it on your neck. It itched, but once the itching passed the pain had faded with it.
âIâm sorry, we should have told you butâŠnone of us could find the right moment and itâs a lot of explaining. We were all turned at different points, and a lot of the stories youâve heard about people like us are completely wrong. We donât glitter or burn up in sunlight, but it can give us migraines or a nasty sunburn. We need to drink blood to survive, but we can eat human food too. We can get drunk or high, but it takes a lot more or drinking the blood of someone who already is to actually do anything. Silver and crosses donât do anything, either, by the way. Oh, and III can turn whenever, but will always turn on a full moon. When he first started, he didnât have much control, but that comes with time, and the worst he ever did was confuse several journalists and terrorise a shit-tonne of sheep.â He explained gently, clearly trying to calm you down and set things straight.
âWeâre not going to hurt you, I promise. Weâre still the same four men you met in a bar and got chatting with.â
âThis is all too weirdâŠâ you curl up as you saying this, suddenly completely overwhelmed. You want to run, to get out and never look back, chalk this all up to a drunken stupor, but you canât. Your swirling cocktail of emotions paralyse you as the tears begin to fall, despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. III pulls you into his arms, rubbing soft circles on your back with one hand as the other reaches up to brush away the tears, still not saying anything.
You spend a while like this, Vessel uncurling to place a hand on your knee, an action mirrored by IV as II rubs your shoulder gently. This is all far too confusing - you meet four guys, four lovely guys who were so gentlemanly earlier, so caring and so genuine, and it turns out theyâre fucking vampires? What on earth is someone meant to do in that situation? They donât seem to mind though, in fact, they seem quite happy that you havenât run out screaming, despite how much your body continues to insist that you should. It becomes comforting quicker than you thought it would, the fear of them having started ebbing away the moment IIIâs arm wrapped around you.
âItâs getting pretty late, you should get some sleep, darlinâ, Iâll bring up a glass of that orange juice for you, ok?â III slips out of the bed, laying you down gently as he does, grabbing for his trousers.
âWait-â he darts out of the door before you can finish, not that you knew what exactly you were going to say, but feeling like you should say something.
âIIIâs right, itâs late, you need rest. Weâll let you get some sleep.â Vessel made a move to stand up now, as II and IV hurriedly got at least half-dressed as you tried to form a protest in your mind. It may have been a shock, but despite everything, you didnât want them to leave.
âNo, donât go, pleaseâŠâ Your voice came out weaker than youâd meant it to, hating the fact you sounded almost pitiful at the thought of being left alone. Vessel stopped, confused.
âYouâŠwant us to stay?â he asks, tone questioning, looking quickly between you and the other two vampires left in the room. You manage a nod before curling up into the duvet again as all the feelings of confusion crash over you again. Vessel walks backs over, and sits gently on the edge of the bed, one hand stroking your hair.
âOk, we can do that, but can I quickly get this paint off? I donât want to make more of a mess of you than I already have.â You manage to force out another nod, then he bends down to kiss your forehead before slipping out of the room, leaving you with II and IV, who quickly replace him. After a small tug on IVâs wrist, he slides in next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest, and gently stroking your hair.
âOk, orange juice and a snack to stave off the hangover, some makeup wipes so you donât sleep in all that makeup and wreck your skin and- oh!â III had returned, the reason for his delay evident in his hand - he held a plate with a fresh toastie on it, cheese dripping out of the sides of it. His other hand held a large glass of orange juice, and the makeup wipes were pressed to his side by an elbow. His eyes were wide and eyebrows raised when you looked up at his face, evidently he hadnât expected II and IV to stay with you, let alone for IV to be cuddling you as II sat beside you. He set the plate and glass down on the bedside table before bending down to start removing your makeup for you.
âIâm so sorry, I should have saidâŠâ he almost whispers, gently removing stroking your face with a wipe before realising a delicate touch was not going to remove the fake blood and eyeliner youâd applied hours earlier.
âItâs ok, it was just a bit of a shock I think.â you reply, letting a small, tired small cross your face as III begins to apply a little more pressure with his thumb. He smiles back, still tentative, but a little less so than before. You started to sit up, a small sound of indignance escaping IVâs mouth before he realises just why youâd need to sit up.
âIves, let them eat! Theyâve had a hell of a night and I donât want them feeling even worse tomorrow.â II chastises gently. This draws a small chuckle out of you, and appears to settle the three vampires around you.
You manage to finish the orange juice and eat about half of the toastie, just filled with cheese since III wasnât sure what youâd like, before Vessel returns. He still had his mask on, but his short, dark hair was messy and a little damp. The paint was off now, and heâd changed into a set of pyjamas, a simple black t-shirt and loose-fitting grey bottoms. He looked smaller, somehow, as if still ashamed by what heâd done, but smiled slightly when he saw the others taking such good care of you.
âAre you sure you want me to stay? I can go, I-â Vessel stutters out, before you cut him off with an excited, albeit tired, âyes!â That was enough for him, though, and he slides into the bed as well.
âYou want all of us to stay, or just these two?â III asks, gently to make sure you donât feel judged.
âAll of you, if thatâs ok,â you reply, having to take a second to swallow the last bite of your toastie. III nods, and everyone starts gently shifting around so youâll all fit in the bed. IV stays next to you, putting your head back on his chest and an arm around your shoulders as you lay back down, letting III slide in behind him. His long arms reach around IV and to you, one hand settling on your cheek. II and Vessel figure out a similar arrangement - II spooning you and Vessel spooning him - as Vesselâs arms are also long enough to reach past the smaller man to hold you. Cocooned between them all, you relax, the soft sheets and strong arms leaving you feeling safer than you had in a long time.
âSleep well, darlinâ.â is the last thing you hear before you drift into a dreamless sleep. It had been one hell of a night.
