The Orphan Maker (P17)

153 2 0
                                    


Info - serial killer, panic attack, grey morality, illegal adoption, oral (male receiving), mentions of death row, self hatred, scars and mention of abuse

readers POV

He looked like I'd never seen him. I'd heard about it, and seen a small bit of it when I'd yelled at him before my water broke, but the full thing was frightening. No wonder he'd gotten mad at me for letting the kids see it. He was like an uncontrollable tornado. He was throwing things. One moment he'd lash out on something, the next, he would curl into a ball and sob. Weak from giving birth recently, I couldn't console him. Finally, what stopped him was me slumping to the ground and cowering in exhaustion.

He stopped and crawled over to me. He laid his head on my shoulder, his breathing ragged. I felt bad, but I was at the end of my rope. He'd been so convinced until today. Tomorrow we sent the children off. Serenity had found families for them all. It would soon me Timothée, Angel, and I. He'd been putting on a good face until today. He'd began to freak out after he'd put them all to bed.

They'd been sad to leave Timothée, but they were excited for a new life. They wanted the fairytale of a dream family. I think they'd known, even more than Timothée, this couldn't last. The world knew, they knew, Serenity knew, and I knew, yet Timothée was still blaming himself. He seemed to over estimate his strength. With the addition of Angel he'd been spread so, so thin. We hadn't made love though the doctor had cleared it. We hardly touched. He found it difficult to find time for Angel. I was very close to another ultimatum. I'd never follow through with it, I knew. I couldn't leave him. For one he wouldn't let me, and two I just couldn't do it again. He'd hooked me.

"Can I show you something?" I asked quietly. He nodded. I'd prepared it with the time I had because he would hardly let me do anything. It was a thick book I'd bound together. The Guardian Angel was on the front in gold.

"By y/n Chalamet... we aren't married yet," he said weakly.

"In my heart we are," I said, laying a head on his shoulder. He shuddered, and kissed my shoulder.

"I never thought I'd have you," he whispered.

"Keep reading," I urged. There were pictures of his kids before he'd saved them. Their eyes had no light. Then I had a comparison of them once they'd come here. Their joy was palpable.

The next page had a speech from each child. Even the baby's noises had been written down by me. Sara's especially had made me cry.

"They really said this?" He asked, mopping at his eyes.

"Yes my love," I said. He was shaky.

"Did you really think they weren't thankful?"

"I'm not good enough, for anyone or anything," he said weakly.

"Don't say that, don't say that ever," I said, holding him tight.

The next section was filled with printed pages from the internet and comments from the true crime Reddit. All the comments and write ups mentioned the grey morality of their heart because they supported The Orphan Maker. Many called that his status be changed to hero.

"See, even people who don't know you love you. You've done so much, and you have to take the hardest step now. I'll be here for you, as will Angel," I said, and massaged his shoulder. He sighed and leaned his head back against the bed as I worked his shoulders.

"Tell me your thoughts," I begged.

"I-I'm just so thankful for you. I know I would've run myself to the bone and everything would be discovered. Without you I'd be on death row, knowing all those children would be in the system. Without you I'd be empty and grey. You're right, it's just hard to do."

"I know sweetie, I know it is."

"I want to be close to you. I'm too exhausted for sex, but could you maybe suck me off? I know it isn't romantic-"

"Shhh, it can be romantic," I said sweetly. "I'll make it romantic."

I slowly pulled down his pants. He was already hard. I massaged his hip bones with one hand, and slowly, slowly pumped him up and down.

"I love you. You are such a strong man. You make me want to be a better person. You make me so entirely happy. This next stage of life can focus on us and Angel."

"That's what I want," he nodded. I kissed his tip lovingly. I noticed scars for the first time on his legs. They must've been from abuse. I wished I'd seen them before. I caressed them, as I gave another kiss to his head. I lapped at his head, and made eye contact with him as I brushed his scarred skin.

"You're so beautiful, I'm so lucky," he said, and caressed my cheek adoringly. I took him all the way down my throat. He was breathing heavily, his eyes half shut with pleasure but he wouldn't take them away from mine.

I gently kneaded his balls with my knuckles. I let my tongue swirl around him. He let out a tiny whine.

"I'm close," he whispered. I bobbed a little faster. His legs shook as he let go in my mouth. I swallowed his essence dutifully.

"Thank you Mon amour," he sighed.

"Timothée, I've been thinking, what if we kept Sara?"

Long Timothee Chalamet StoriesWhere stories live. Discover now