#memory of him to disappear. like yeah yeah deep well is designed to make him forget too. he set himself up

[passerinesoncaffeine]

the irony of one the first main things established about omori as a character is that he's known for his great memory as if he hasn't lost the entire fucking plot repeatedly for years.

like he has a great memory!! if you don't take into account He's Actually The God Of Repression.

[flux1563]

Best choice of my life ft tzuyu

Something new part 2

Words: 25k

The digital clock on the nightstand flickered to life, casting a blueish hue over the room. 6:00 AM. The time had come for him to rise and prepare for the day ahead. With a gentle sigh, her husband's eyes fluttered open, his gaze immediately finding hers in the dim light. He offered a sleepy smile, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. Tzuyu sat up in bed, the sheets slipping down to reveal the swells of her breasts. She returned his smile, trying to ignore the heaviness in her chest. "Already time to go to work?" Tzuyu ask. Her husband nodded and stretched, his muscular body flexing with the motion. "Yeah," he yawned. "Big meeting today. I'll be home as soon as I can." He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

As he padded towards the bathroom, Tzuyu couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anxiety build within her. She quickly grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her thumbs flying over the screen. Her heart raced as she typed out the message to y/n: "I want to feel you again this time. Can I come to your house?" She hit send before she could talk herself out of it, her stomach flipping with anticipation. She watched her husband's back as he disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Y/n's response is swift: "Just come to my house, Tzuyu." The simplicity of his message sends a thrill down her spine. She knows she shouldn't, that it's wrong, but the memory of his touch is too potent to ignore. Her mind wanders to what she should wear, something that would drive him wild with desire. She opens her closet, her eyes scanning the rows of clothes. Her fingers glide over the fabric of her usual attire, but she knows none of it will suffice for what she has in mind. Instead, she reaches for the drawer at the bottom, where she keeps her secret collection of lingerie. Her heart races as she pulls out a sheer, black set. The lace is intricate, leaving nothing to the imagination. The thong is so thin it might as well not be there, and the bra is designed to expose her nipples, the fabric barely covering the sensitive peaks. Tzuyu's body flushes with excitement and nerves as she dresses in the seductive ensemble. She looks at herself in the mirror, her reflection looking like a stranger, a woman bold and hungry for desire. With one last, deep breath, she grabs an oversized hoodie from her husband's side of the closet to cover herself. The softness of the fabric feels like a comforting embrace, a stark contrast to the naughty secrets it conceals. The short walk to y/n's house feels like an eternity. Each step is a silent confession to the betrayal she's about to commit. Yet, the anticipation is intoxicating, making her heart race and her breath come in shallow pants. The early morning light casts long shadows across the lawn, and the dew on the grass feels like a kiss from the cool, indifferent world outside her tumultuous thoughts. She tries to calm herself, focusing on the familiar squeak of the gate and the comforting scent of her garden as she passes by.

When she reaches y/n's door, she takes one final, deep breath before raising her hand to knock. It's a soft sound, barely louder than the whisper of the wind through the leaves. Yet, almost immediately, she hears the sound of the lock turning, and the door swings open. He's waiting for her, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts that hang low on his hips, showcasing the trail of hair that leads down to the promise of his cock. His eyes widen with lust when he sees her, taking in the barely concealed allure of her attire. Before she can even say a word, he's on her, pulling her into his arms and claiming her lips in a kiss that's both fierce and passionate. His hands roam her body, tracing the curves of her waist and the swell of her hips. Tzuyu melts into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. It's as if her body has been waiting for this, craving the feel of his touch like a plant craves the sun. With a sudden jerk, y/n pulls her hoodie open, exposing her lingerie-clad breasts to the cool morning air. The contrast between the soft fabric and the roughness of his calloused hands sends a jolt of electricity through her, making her nipples peak into tight buds. He breaks the kiss to look down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "You came to me," he murmurs, his voice low and thick with need.

"Yeah," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I couldn't wait for you to take me again." His eyes flash with a primal hunger that makes her knees weak. Without warning, he rips her lingerie from her body, the fabric tearing like paper beneath his powerful grip. Tzuyu gasps, feeling the cold air against her bare pussy. He smirks at her, the sound echoing through the house like a declaration of his dominance. "If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get," he says, his voice a low growl. He grabs her by the waist and lifts her onto the kitchen counter, her legs wrapping around his hips. She gasps as she feels the tip of his cock, thick and insistent, press against her opening. Without further ado, he slams into her, his length filling her in one swift motion. The suddenness of it makes her eyes roll back in her head, a high-pitched moan escaping her lips. He doesn't stop, pounding into her with a ferocity that leaves her breathless. 

His grip on her hips is like iron, holding her in place as he claims her body without mercy. "Yeah, fuck my pussy like that," Tzuyu pants, her nails digging into his shoulders. The wetness she mentioned was indeed still present, a testament to the longing she'd felt for him since their last encounter. She could feel her juices coating his cock, making each stroke smoother, deeper. "You like that, don't you?" He grunts, his eyes dark with lust. "You want me to make you squirt again?" Tzuyu nods frantically, her pussy clenching around him in anticipation. She's never felt anything like this before, the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots, the way her body responds so eagerly to his touch. She feels a familiar pressure building within her, and she knows she's close. "Ajh, yes, y/n, I'm going to squirt," she moans, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. He quickens his pace, driving into her harder and faster, his grip on her hips tightening. The kitchen counter digs into her back, but she doesn't care. All that matters is the feeling of his cock inside her, the promise of the release that's just within reach.

Her pussy clenches around him, and suddenly, it's there. The intense pressure builds up, and then releases in a powerful spurt of liquid that soaks his cock and the counter beneath her. She throws her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she rides the waves of pleasure that crash through her body. She feels it from her toes to her fingertips, a rush of euphoria that makes her tremble and shake uncontrollably. He watches her with a mix of amazement and hunger, his eyes never leaving her face as he continues to pound into her. "How long can I fuck you this day, Tzuyu?" he asks again, his voice strained with effort and desire. "Until 6 PM," she gasps, her voice barely a whisper. The thought sends a new wave of heat through her body, the anticipation of hours of passionate fucking making her pussy clench even tighter around his thick cock. Y/n smiles wickedly, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He glances at the clock on the kitchen wall, the hands pointing to the 7 AM position. "Eleven hours," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Eleven hours of pure pleasure, just for us." With surprising strength, he flips Tzuyu over onto her stomach, her legs dangling off the edge of the counter. He grips her hips, pulling her back so that her ass is in the air, her pussy wet and begging for his cock. The sudden change in position makes her gasp, her breasts pressing against the cool countertop. He doesn't miss a beat, lining himself up with her soaking wet entrance and sliding back in, filling her completely. Her moans echo through the kitchen as he starts to fuck her in standing doggy style, his powerful thrusts sending her hips slamming into the counter. She can feel the bruises forming, but the pain only adds to the intense pleasure that is consuming her. Each time he hits her g-spot, she squirts a little more, the wetness making his movements even smoother, even more delicious.

"Already squirting countless times, Tzuyu?" he says with a smug chuckle, his grip tightening on her hips. "It's only been a few minutes. You're going to be a mess by the time I'm through with you.". Tzuyu can't help the moan that escapes her as she nods, her voice strained with pleasure. "It's your fault," she whispers, her words barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. "Your cock is so good inside my pussy.". Y/n's smug grin widens, and he starts to fuck her harder, his movements more deliberate as he watches the pleasure wash over her face. She's lost in the sensation, her body responding to his every touch with a desperation that she's never felt before. "Beg for it," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Beg for me to fill you up again." Tzuyu's eyes roll back in her head, and she can't help but whimper. "Please, y/n," she says, her voice needy. "Please, I need your baby in me." It's a heady feeling, saying the words out loud, and she feels a new wave of arousal crash over her. She's never talked like this before, but with him, it feels so right. He grabs her hand, interlocking their fingers behind her back, pulling her closer to him. His other hand snakes up to her hair, gripping it firmly as he fucks her even harder. The tug on her scalp sends a bolt of pleasure through her, making her toes curl. She moans loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet of the kitchen. "You're such a good slut," he whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "Ask for it."

Her eyes widen, the pain mixing with pleasure as she begs, "Please, y/n, fuck me harder. Make me squirt again." He obliges, his hand moving faster, his cock pounding into her with a ferocity that borders on brutal. She feels the pressure building inside her, her pussy clenching around him like a vice. And then it hits her, the most intense orgasm she's ever felt, her body shaking as she squirts all over the kitchen counter, soaking his hand and the floor beneath them. He groans with satisfaction, feeling her walls tighten around his cock, the sensation of her release pushing him closer to the edge. Without warning, he pulls out and spins her around, slamming her back against the fridge. His grip on her hand tightens as he pins it behind her back, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His other hand tangles in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, which he kisses hungrily, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He enters her again, his movements now erratic, driven by his own need to release.

Tzuyu's eyes roll back as he fucks her relentlessly, his cock hitting that spot deep within her that sends waves of pleasure crashing through her body. She feels his desperation, his need to claim her fully, and it only serves to increase her own desire. Her body responds, her pussy clenching around him, begging for more. With a final, primal roar, y/n releases himself inside her, filling her to the brim with his hot, sticky cum. Tzuyu gasps, her body spasming with the force of her own orgasm, her walls milking him for every last drop. She feels him swell and pulse, his seed painting the walls of her pussy with his brand of ownership. For a moment, they stand there, chests heaving, bodies entwined. But the reality of their situation crashes down on her like a tidal wave. She's just cheated on her husband with her neighbor, a man she's known for years but never felt this intense connection with before. Her legs threaten to give out, and she's certain she would have fallen if not for his iron grip holding her upright.

"Is so good, y/n fuck," Tzuyu whispers with trembling voice, her eyes fluttering shut as the aftershocks of pleasure wash over her. Her words are a mix of English and her native language, a testament to the overwhelming nature of their encounter. She leans into him, her naked body pressing against his, desperate for his warmth and the illusion of safety that he provides. "You're amazing," he murmurs back, kissing the side of her neck gently. His voice is filled with genuine admiration and lust. He releases her hand, letting it fall to her side as he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tightly as he slowly pulls out of her. The feeling of emptiness is stark, and she can't help but whine softly. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

They both take a moment to catch their breath, the only sound in the kitchen the ticking of the clock on the wall, a constant reminder of the time slipping away. Tzuyu opens her eyes to find y/n looking at her with a smug smile, his chest still heaving from exertion. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes searching hers for any signs of distress. She nods, still trying to process the intensity of what just happened. "Yes," she manages to murmur, though her voice is hoarse from the screams of passion. He releases her from his embrace, and she wobbles slightly, her legs still unsteady from the powerful climaxes. He chuckles again, and this time it's a gentle sound that doesn't make her want to run away. Guiding her to the living room, he pulls a soft blanket from the couch and wraps it around her shoulders, leading her to the plush cushions. They sit down, their bodies still touching, the heat between them palpable. "I don't usually do this," Tzuyu says, her voice still shaking. "But I couldn't resist you." Y/n nods, stroking her cheek gently. "I know. It's like we were made for each other." His words hang in the air, filled with an unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a one-time thing. They share a knowing look, their eyes locked in a silent promise of more to come.

"Are u want to take a rest first?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down her spine. She nods again, her body aching from the intense passion they've just shared. They move to the couch, the plush cushions a welcome respite from the hard kitchen counter. He settles her into his arms, the warmth of his bare skin a stark contrast to the chill in the air from the open refrigerator door. Tzuyu takes a moment to appreciate the sight of her sprawled across his couch, the blanket barely covering her splayed legs and the wetness between them. He traces a finger along her collarbone, watching as goosebumps rise along her skin. "No, just fuck me like a slut I am," she whispers, her voice needy and raw. He leans in, his breath hot on her ear as he says, "Are u sure? U can't take back what u say tzuyu." His words hang in the air, a challenge and a warning. She nods, eyes blazing with desire. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice thick with lust. "I want it all. Every part of you, every dirty word, every rough touch." He stands up, towering over her, his cock still hard and glistening with their combined juices. "Which room do you want me to fuck you, Tzuyu?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. She swallows hard, her heart racing. She's never been so brazen, but with his, she feels like she can be anyone, do anything.

"Maybe the work room first," she says, her voice low and sultry. "Fuck me above your desk." The thought sends a thrill through her body, a delicious mix of excitement and naughtiness that only fuels her desire. She watches as his eyes darken with lust, the challenge accepted. With surprising gentleness, he picks Tzuyu up, his arms cradling her against his chest as he carries her through the house. Her legs wrap around his waist, the blanket slipping away to expose her nakedness to the cool air. She nuzzles into his neck, her lips leaving a trail of kisses along his collarbone as he navigates the hallway. The anticipation builds with every step, her pussy clenching with need. He kicks the door to his work room open, the sound echoing through the house. The room is cluttered with paperwork and the faint scent of ink and leather, a stark contrast to the garden's serenity. He lowers her onto the sturdy desk, the wood cool against her skin. His eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of her laid out before him, her legs open and welcoming.

"Fuckk, so wet and tight," he groans, the words escaping him like a prayer. Tzuyu feels a thrill at his crude language, the raw desire in his voice making her even wetter. He grabs her hips and aligns his cock with her entrance, his hands trembling with restraint. The moment he enters her, she feels the familiar rush of liquid heat, her pussy squirting around him like a fountain. It's a sensation she's never felt with anyone else, a testament to the intensity of their connection. His eyes widen with surprise before a smug smile plays on his lips. "You're just too much," he says, his voice thick with lust. He starts to thrust, his movements powerful and commanding. She gasps with each stroke, her body bouncing on the desk with the force of his passion. The room is filled with the sound of their slapping flesh, the occasional squeak of the chair, and their ragged breaths. She looks down to see his cock disappearing into her over and over again, her juices coating his shaft with every plunge.

"You're not ruining anything," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "You're just making it more interesting." He pulls out almost completely, only to slam back into her, making her cry out. His grip on her hips tightens, his nails digging into her skin as he finds a rhythm that makes her pussy pulse with each thrust. "Fuck, so fucking big," Tzuyu screams, her voice bouncing off the walls of the room. She can feel him filling her completely, his cock reaching places inside her that she didn't know existed. Each time he pulls out, she feels the emptiness keenly, only for it to be replaced with a wave of pleasure as he slams back in. "Yes, cum for me," she pants, her eyes fluttering shut as she feels the beginnings of another orgasm building deep within her. She can sense that he's close, his strokes becoming more erratic, his breathing more ragged. His hand snakes up to her throat, gripping it gently, and she moans, the sensation pushing her closer to the edge.

With a roar, y/n pulls out and sprays his cum across her face, painting it in thick ropes that cling to her skin. She opens her eyes, watching in fascination as he marks her, claiming her once again. The sight of his release on her face sends her over the edge, her pussy convulsing around emptiness as she squirts uncontrollably.

The room is a chaotic symphony of moans and wet sounds, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. His desk, once a bastion of order and productivity, is now a canvas of their desire, papers and files scattered haphazardly, drenched in the evidence of their passion. Her squirt covers the leather surface, pooling in the indentations of his chair, creating a mess that mirrors the tumult in her heart. Without a word, y/n picks her up, her legs still trembling from the intensity of their last encounter. His eyes burn with a primal hunger that makes her insides quiver.

He carries her to his bedroom, his strong arms a stark contrast to the softness of her curves. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, the shadows playing across the walls like a silent film of their carnality. The bed is unmade, the sheets tangled from his last encounter with his right hand. He lays her down gently, his cock still rock-hard and glistening with their combined juices. She looks up at him, her eyes glazed over with lust, and straddles him. Her pussy is a slick, swollen mess, begging for more of his thick, delicious cock. He watches as she slides down onto him, her walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

"Ahh...fuck," she gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders as she feels him fill her completely. She starts to ride him, her movements erratic at first, a mix of pleasure and pain. His hands roam her body, cupping her breasts, squeezing her ass, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. His cock hits all the right spots, and she feels herself spiraling towards another orgasm. "Your dick is everywhere," she cries out, her voice hoarse from the screams of ecstasy that have already left her throat. She's lost in a sea of sensation, her body moving on instinct as he takes her to new heights. Her pussy clenches around him, and she feels the warmth of her squirt, the liquid proof of her desire. He takes control, thrusting into her with a ferocity that steals her breath away. His strokes are deep and demanding, each one pushing her closer to the edge. "Cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel your sweet cunt milk my cock." Her eyes roll back in her head as she feels it building again, the pressure in her core threatening to explode. Her pussy clamps down on him, and she squirts uncontrollably, her juices coating his shaft and their skin. He doesn't let up, his rhythm never faltering as he continues to pound into her.

Finally, with a roar, he pulls out and covers her back in his cum, his seed spraying across her skin like a declaration of war. But it's not war she feels, it's a strange sense of belonging, of being claimed by this man who brings her such exquisite pain and pleasure. And just as she thinks she can't take anymore, he turns her onto her back and slams into her again, her legs splayed wide. His cock is a beast, demanding and relentless, and she's helpless to resist. Her pussy clenches around him, and she feels another orgasm building, her body a live wire ready to snap. He fucks her with a brutal efficiency, his eyes never leaving hers. She can see the darkness in them, the desire that fuels his every thrust. And she knows that she's just as lost in this as he is, her own needs driving her to match his ferocity. "Cum inside me," she begs, her voice a desperate whisper. "I want to feel you fill me up." He grunts, his strokes becoming more erratic as he gets closer to his own release. And when it hits him, it's like a dam bursting. He fills her with his cum, each spurt a hot, thick reminder of his power over her. Her pussy clenches around him, eagerly drinking him in.

They lay there, panting and spent, their bodies entwined. The world outside their bubble of passion doesn't exist, and she's never felt more alive. She knows that this is wrong, that she's playing with fire. But she can't help craving the burn.

"Again," she whispers, and he's only too happy to oblige. He rolls her onto her stomach, her breasts pressed into the damp pillow. His hand traces the curve of her ass before he slides into her from behind. Her pussy is still sore, but the pain only heightens the pleasure, making her squirt uncontrollably with every thrust. "Ahh, yes," she moans, her voice muffled by the pillow. "Your dick is so deep. " She can feel him stretching her, filling her completely. It's a sensation that's both terrifying and exhilarating, like riding a rollercoaster with no safety bars.

He fucks her with a fierce determination, his strokes deep and punishing. Each time he hits her g-spot, she feels her body shudder, her juices soaking the bed beneath them. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the room, a testament to their carnality. His grip on her hips tightens, and she knows he's close, his thrusts growing more erratic.

He pulls out, and before she can even register the loss, he's flipped her onto her back. He's still hard, his cock glistening with their combined arousal. He looms over her, his eyes dark with lust. "Look at me when I cum," he commands, and she can't help but obey.

He starts fucking her again, his strokes slower this time, more deliberate. She can feel him savoring every moment, every inch of her. His cock slides in and out of her, the friction setting her nerves alight. And then he explodes, his seed spraying her body like a fine mist. She can feel it on her face, her neck, her chest, a warm, sticky mess that only makes her want more.

They lay there for a moment, their breathing the only sound in the room. Then he leans in, kissing her softly, his cock still semi-hard between her legs. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice hoarse. Tzuyu opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. She can't find the words to respond, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She's torn between the guilt that weighs on her and the intense desire that still thrums through her body. "For what?" she finally asks, her voice a mere whisper. "For letting me be the one to give you what you truly crave," he says, his eyes searching hers. "For letting me be the one to make you squirt like a fountain."

The truth of his words hits her like a sledgehammer, and she feels a mix of shame and excitement. She's never felt so used, so owned. And she can't help but want more.

They move to the living room, the plush carpet beneath them a stark contrast to the harsh reality of their situation. He takes her from behind, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pulls her back onto his cock. She's so wet that he slides in effortlessly, filling her up in one swift motion. The couch cushions sink under their weight as he starts to pound into her, each thrust sending her body rocking forward.

The TV flickers in the background, the mundane sitcom playing out its canned laughter as Tzuyu's own cries of pleasure echo through the room. Her pussy is a river, gushing around him with every push, and she knows that the sound of their fucking is only adding to the illicitness of the moment. She can feel her orgasm building again, and she tries to fight it, to draw it out as long as possible.

He's relentless, his hips moving like a piston as he fucks her with a ferocity that borders on the violent. She's lost in the sensation, her body moving with his, her mind a blur of need and desire. And when she does finally come, it's like a dam bursting, her squirt soaking the carpet beneath her.

Yet he doesn't stop. If anything, his movements grow more intense, his grip on her hips tightening as he speeds up. He's like an animal in heat, his need for release all-consuming. And she's his prey, willingly offering herself up to his every whim. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the air, punctuated by her cries of pleasure. She can feel him swelling inside her, his cock thickening as he nears his climax. And when he does finally come, it's with a roar that shakes the walls. He pulls out and sprays his cum all over her, painting her back and ass with his seed.

The warmth of his semen on her skin is the final straw, sending her over the edge once again. Her pussy clenches and spasms around his cock, her squirt mixing with his cum to create a sticky mess that she knows will be impossible to clean up. As they lay there, panting and covered in each other's juices, she can't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. This is wrong, she knows it, but it feels so right. And as she looks over her shoulder at the man who has just claimed her in the most primal way possible, she knows she's in too deep to turn back now.

He scoops her up, his cock still hard and covered in their combined arousal. She wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her to the balcony, the cool air kissing their sweat-slicked skin. The lights from the sun cast a soft glow over, and she can see the silhouettes of people going about their evening routines, oblivious to the depraved acts unfolding in her neighbor's house. Her heart races at the thought of being caught, but it's the thrill of the risk that fuels her arousal. "What if someone sees us?" she gasps, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

He smirks, placing her on the edge of the balcony railing, her legs draped over his broad shoulders. "Just hope there's no one watching," he says, the challenge in his tone making her stomach flip. His cock, still slick with her cum, slides back into her pussy, and she gasps as he starts to thrust again. Each movement sends her a little higher, the railing digging into her back as she holds onto the railing for dear life. "AHHHHHH..." she screams, the sound echoing through the night air. She can feel the cool breeze on her face, the stars above seeming to pulse in time with her heartbeat. The world outside fades away until all that exists is the feeling of his cock inside her, the way he fills her completely and owns her body. She's lost in a sea of pleasure, her moans and cries the only sound in the universe. Tzuyu's nails dig into the wood of the railing, leaving deep grooves as she tries to hold on. Each thrust from he sends her closer to the edge, not just of the balcony, but of sanity itself. "FUCK Y/N," she moans, her voice hoarse and desperate. She's never felt so alive, so wanted, so utterly consumed by another person's desire. Her orgasms come in waves now, crashing over her like the tide, leaving her gasping for air.

He grunts in response, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pumps into her with increasing ferocity. His cock hits her g-spot with each stroke, and she can't help but scream his name as she feels another squirt building inside her. "Cum for me, baby," he whispers in her ear, his voice a dark promise. "Show me how much you love it." Her eyes squeeze shut as she feels the pressure building, the world around her fading away until all that exists is the sensation of his cock inside her, the warmth of the sun on her bare skin, and the sound of their bodies slapping together. The orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, and she squirts again, the warm liquid spilling over the railing and down into the garden below. She gasps for air, her entire body trembling with the force of it. "Look at that," y/n says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You're like a fountain of pleasure." He pulls out of her, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He strokes himself, watching as the last drops of her cum fall to the ground. "The world will know," he says with a wicked smile. "They'll all know how much you love my cock”.Tzuyu gasps, trying to catch her breath, her legs still shaking from the intensity of her climaxes. She watches him with a mix of fear and desire, knowing that she's lost control, that she's become the slut he's always wanted her to be. And yet, she can't find it in herself to be ashamed. Every time he fills her, every time he makes her squirt, it's like he's filling a void she never knew existed.

Her eyes widen as he takes her hand, guiding her to the bedroom, his grip firm yet gentle. He lays her down on the bed, and she can't help but whimper as he climbs over her, his cock still rock hard. "Please," she whispers, "please fill me up."

Y/n grins, his eyes gleaming with lust. He lines up his cock with her entrance and pushes in, filling her to the brim. She gasps, her eyes rolling back in her head as she feels him stretch her open once more. He starts to fuck her slowly at first, drawing out her moans, her pussy still quivering from her previous orgasms. He picks up the pace, and she feels herself building again, her body responding to his every touch. She begs him to go harder, faster, to fill her up until she can't take anymore. He obliges, pounding into her with a ferocity that makes the bed shake. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by her desperate cries. Her orgasms come in waves, one after the other, each one more intense than the last. She can feel him swelling inside her, his cock pulsing with the promise of release. "Cum inside me," she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I want to feel your seed." His eyes narrow, and he gives one final, powerful thrust. With a roar, he empties himself into her, filling her womb with his hot, thick cum. She clenches around him, her body milking every last drop as she squirts uncontrollably. Her pussy spasms, gripping him tightly, and she arches her back, lost in the sensation of his seed flooding her.

For a moment, they lay there, panting, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. He pulls out, and she feels the warmth of his release spilling out of her, down her thighs. It's a messy, delicious mess, a testament to their carnality. She can't help but smile, even as guilt starts to creep in. This isn't who she is, but she can't deny the thrill of it all.

"Tzuyu, the next of tomorrow, I will go to the Maldives for two weeks" he says, his voice breaking the silence like a sledgehammer through glass. Her eyes widen, and she sits up, pushing her hair out of her face. "What?" she asks, not quite understanding what he means.

"I want you to come with me," he says, his eyes searching hers for a hint of what she's feeling. "I know it's sudden, but I can't bear the thought of being apart from you for so long."

Tzuyu's heart skips a beat at his words. She had never felt this way before, not even with her husband. The idea of being with him for two weeks, just the two of them, is both thrilling and terrifying. "But what about your job?" she asks, already knowing the answer. "I can work remotely," he says, his eyes never leaving hers. "All I need is you."

Tzuyu's cheeks burn with a mix of excitement and fear. "But what will I say to my husband?" she whispers, her voice trembling. "Tell him you're going on a gardening retreat," y/n suggests, his tone casual despite the gravity of his words. "You can say you need some time to yourself to focus on your hobby. He won't suspect a thing."

Tzuyu nods, her mind racing. It's a flimsy excuse, but desperation has a way of making the impossible seem doable. She looks up at y/n, her eyes filled with a mix of excitement and fear. "Okay," she whispers, her voice shaky. "But I need to make sure he believes me."

He leans in, his breath hot against her ear. "Just give him a little show," he murmurs. "Let him think you had the best sex of your life. He'll never question it." His words are a challenge, and she feels a thrill run through her body at the thought of deceiving her husband. It's wrong, but the temptation is too great. Tzuyu nods, her heart racing. "Okay," she whispers, the word hanging in the air like a declaration of war. She knows what she's agreeing to, but she can't bring herself to care. All that matters is the feeling of y/n's cock inside her, the way he makes her body sing with pleasure. She's addicted to it, and she's willing to do whatever it takes to get her fix.

He stands up, pulling her to her feet with him. "Let's go," he says, his voice gruff. "But remember, you're still my little slut." He grabs her by the arm and leads her out of the house, not bothering to dress her. She's naked and vulnerable, but she doesn't care. The thrill of being seen is a part of the game now, a part of the thrill. The short walk to her house feels like an eternity. Each step she takes is a silent confession of her infidelity, her bare feet leaving a trail of wetness on the ground. She can feel the cum trickling down her legs, and she knows that y/n is enjoying the sight of her vulnerability. His eyes are dark with lust, and she can see the smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at her. As they reach her door, he leans in and whispers in her ear, "Remember, this is our little secret." He kisses her, hard and possessive, leaving no doubt in her mind who she truly belongs to. His hand slides down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. "Now, go inside and get ready for your husband. I want you to think of me every time he touches you."

Tzuyu quickly dressed and returned home, her mind racing with thoughts of y/n's possessive words. She knew she had to clean up and compose herself before her husband returned. As she stepped into her bathroom, the smell of their combined lust still clung to her skin, a potent reminder of the carnality she had just indulged in. With trembling hands, she turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray, the water washing away the evidence of her infidelity. She scrubbed herself clean, trying to erase the feeling of y/n's touch, but his presence remained, etched into her very soul.

With a deep sigh, she stepped out and dried herself off, feeling the lingering ache in her muscles and the sensitive throbbing of her pussy. She applied her makeup with meticulous care, painting a picture of innocence over her swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Her eyes held a secret, a glint of the depraved desires that now ruled her.

Choosing a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, Tzuyu slid it over her head. It was a deep crimson color, a stark contrast to the white dress she had worn earlier, symbolizing the shift in her nature. The fabric was soft and luxurious, whispering against her skin, a silent declaration of her sexual awakening. She knew that her husband would not suspect a thing, but the thrill of her secret made her pulse race. The dress ended just above her knees, leaving her long, slender legs bare. She slipped on a pair of matching heels, standing tall and confident, the woman she had always been, yet somehow changed. The neckline plunged low, revealing the swells of her breasts, a silent invitation to her husband to take her in his arms and claim her as his own. Yet, she knew that even as she presented herself to her husband, her thoughts would be consumed by the neighbor who had so thoroughly claimed her body and soul. As she made her way to the living room, Tzuyu felt a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. She knew she had to keep her secret, to hide the dark thrill that now consumed her. The house was quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock, counting down to the moment her husband would walk through the door.

In those moments of solitude, she allowed herself to remember y/n's touch, his cock filling her up, his mouth on her neck. The guilt was a heavy weight in her stomach, but it was overshadowed by the desire to feel him inside her again. She took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside as the key turned in the lock. Her husband's footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she forced a smile to her lips, ready to play the role of the devoted wife once more. The door opened, and her husband walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice filled with love and admiration. She felt a pang of guilt, but also a thrill knowing that she had just come from the arms of another man.

Tzuyu stepped closer, her heart racing. "Thank you," she said, her voice a soft purr. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, and felt a shiver of anticipation. The taste of y/n was still on her, and she knew she had to be careful not to give herself away. But as she pulled away, she couldn't help but wonder if her husband would ever be able to satisfy her the way her neighbor had. The rest of the evening was a blur of forced intimacy and stolen glances. Dinner was a dance of deception, her husband's hand on her thigh sending shivers down her spine, but not the same as when y/n had claimed her earlier.

As the plates were cleared, Tzuyu leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a mischief that didn't quite reach her heart. "How about we have a little fun before bed?" she whispered, her voice low and seductive. She watched as his eyes lit up with excitement, oblivious to the dark desires that had been stirred within her. Her husband didn't need much convincing, his hand sliding up to cup her breast as they kissed, his tongue exploring her mouth. She responded mechanically, her body going through the motions of desire while her mind was elsewhere. In the bedroom, she undressed slowly, the crimson dress pooling around her ankles like a sea of forbidden passion. She felt his gaze on her, hungry and expectant, and she knew she had to perform. Their lovemaking was gentle, a stark contrast to the roughness she had experienced with y/n. His touches were tender, his kisses sweet, but they couldn't dull the ache inside her. She found herself imagining y/n's strong hands, his dominating presence, as her husband moved above her. She moaned and arched her back, trying to find the release she craved, but it remained elusive.

The act was a farce, a tragic play where she was the star, forced to hide her true desires. Yet she played her part well, her body responding to the familiar rhythm despite her heart's betrayal. She felt the beginnings of an orgasm, a pale shadow of the earth-shattering climaxes she had shared with her neighbor. She bit her lip, stifling a cry that was more frustration than pleasure. Afterwards, as her husband lay spent beside her, Tzuyu couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. She had once cherished these moments, but now they felt hollow. Her mind was a battlefield of guilt and lust, love and deceit, and she wasn't sure which side would emerge victorious. As the room grew quiet, she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. She had agreed to go to the Maldives with y/n, but the reality of her decision was now sinking in.

Summoning her courage, she turned to face her husband, her voice a whisper in the darkness. "I've been thinking," she began, her heart pounding in her chest. "I need some time for myself. A vacation, maybe two weeks?" Her husband stirred, his eyes half-open. "Two weeks?" he repeated, his voice thick with sleep. "Where do you want to go?". Tzuyu took a deep breath. "I thought maybe I could go to Maldives," she lied, her voice trembling slightly. "Just to clear my head and relax a bit."

He propped himself up on one elbow, studying her. "You sure you'll be okay?" he asked, concern etching lines on his forehead. "You've been so busy with the garden and work."

"I'll be fine," she assured him, forcing a smile. "It's just what I need." His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "If that's what you want," he said, his voice filled with love. "But don't overdo it."

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with relief. She had the green light for her illicit getaway, and she knew she had to use this opportunity wisely. The next few days passed in a blur of preparation and secrecy. She packed her bags, her mind racing with thoughts of what awaited her in the Maldives. Each item she placed in her suitcase felt like a piece of her soul being torn away from her husband and given to y/n. Yet she couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled up inside her. The anticipation of those two weeks of unbridled passion was a siren's song, luring her further into the depths of her own depravity.

When the day of her departure finally arrived, she kissed her husband goodbye, feeling the weight of her lie pressing down on her like a leaden blanket. "I love you," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection and a hint of sadness. He held her tightly. "I love you too," he said, his eyes searching hers for any sign of trouble. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

With one last kiss, she stepped out of the door, her heart in her throat. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood that felt eerily deceptive. As she walked to y/n's house, her thoughts swirled like a tornado. Was she making a mistake? Could she really go through with this?

But when she saw his car parked out front, her doubts evaporated. He was waiting for her, a dark figure silhouetted against the early morning light. His eyes met hers, and she knew she had made her choice. With a final look back at her house, she stepped into the car, leaving her old life behind. The drive to the airport was tense, filled with unspoken words and heated glances. His hand found hers, and she felt a spark of electricity run through her body. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help the way her body responded to him. The thought of two weeks of unbridled lust was intoxicating, and she was already drunk on the anticipation.

As they boarded the plane, she felt a sense of excitement that she hadn't felt in a long time. This was it, the start of her secret life. A life filled with passion, danger, and a love that she knew she could never confess. She was about to embark on a journey that would change her forever, and she couldn't wait to see where it would take her. The flight to the Maldives was long, but the anticipation kept her awake. Every bump of the plane brought her closer to y/n, and she found herself leaning into him, craving his touch. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his breath warm and tantalizing. His words painted a picture of what awaited her when they arrived at the homestay, and she couldn't help but let her imagination run wild.

"When we get there, Tzuyu," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine, "you won't be able to wear a single fabric. You'll be mine, to do with as I please." His hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tracing the line of her panties, and she couldn't help but gasp at the sudden intrusion. The promise in his eyes was clear: she would be his plaything, his personal sex doll to use and discard at his will. Her heart raced at the thought, a delicious blend of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She knew she should be scared, that this was wrong on so many levels, but she couldn't help the way her body responded to his touch. She was a moth to his flame, and she knew that she would burn if she got too close, but she couldn't resist the pull.

The homestay was more luxurious than she had ever imagined, a private villa on a secluded island, surrounded by crystal clear waters and lush vegetation. It was a paradise, and she knew that she was about to experience the kind of passion that most people only dreamed of. As they stepped into the villa, he grabbed her hand, pulling her into the bedroom. "Now," he said, his voice low and demanding. "Strip." She knew what was expected of her, and she didn't hesitate. Her clothes fell to the floor in a heap, leaving her naked and vulnerable before him. His eyes devoured her, and she felt a thrill of power knowing that she had this effect on him.

He approached her slowly, his own clothes disappearing piece by piece until he stood before her, his erection proud and thick. "Now let's go sleep first," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. It was clear that his idea of 'sleep' was anything but innocent. Tzuyu felt a thrill at his words, her body responding to his dominance in ways she hadn't thought possible. They climbed into the large, plush bed together, the softness enveloping them like a warm embrace. He pulled her into his arms, her back pressed against his chest as he spooned her, his cock nestling between her thighs. His breath was hot on her neck, and she shivered with anticipation. As they lay there, she felt a strange sense of peace. Despite the guilt and fear that plagued her, she knew that she had made the right choice. This was what she needed, what she craved. The gentle stroking of his fingers along her skin was like a balm to her soul, calming the storm of emotions that raged within her. She closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep in the safety of his arms.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of waves crashing against the shore outside their window. The room was bathed in soft, early morning light, and y/n's arms were still tight around her, his body spooning hers. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and she knew that he was already awake, waiting for her. Slowly, she rolled over to face him, his eyes opening to meet hers. They were filled with a gentle, almost tender expression that she had never seen before. He leaned in, his breath warm against her face, and kissed her softly. "Are you happy, Tzuyu?" he asked, his voice low and thick with sleep. The question hung in the air, and she felt a lump form in her throat. How could she answer that? Was she happy? She had a husband who loved her, a beautiful home, and a life that was the envy of many. Yet, here she was, in a foreign country, in the arms of a man who was not her husband, feeling more alive than she had in years. She looked into his eyes, searching for a hint of what he was truly feeling. The tenderness in his gaze was unmistakable, and she knew that he cared for her. But was it enough? Was this fleeting passion worth the risk of losing everything she had built with her husband? "I... I don't know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I know that when I'm with you, I feel alive."

Y/n's smile grew, and he kissed her again, deeper this time. His hands roamed over her body, reawakening the desires that had kept her up half the night. "Good," he murmured against her lips. "Let's enjoy the beach from our terrace," he said, standing up and holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Tzuyu took it, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through her. She allowed him to lead her to the large, open-air balcony that faced the sea. The view was breathtaking, the sun rising over the water, casting a warm glow over the white sand and the palm trees that swayed gently in the breeze.

He handed her a glass filled with a fruity concoction, the aroma of tropical berries and mint filling her nose. "It's a Maldivian specialty," he said, watching as she took a sip. The drink was cool and refreshing, a perfect balance of sweetness and tartness that made her taste buds tingle. In his other hand, he held a plate piled high with breakfast: fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, fresh fruits, and a dollop of cream. "Thank you," Tzuyu said, her voice thick with emotion. The gesture was so simple, yet it felt like a declaration of his affection. They sat at the small table on the balcony, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore acting as a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They talked about everything: their hopes, their fears, their secrets. The air between them was charged with the electricity of their shared confessions, and she found herself opening up to him in ways she never had with her husband.

"When we arrived, you told me to always be naked," she said, looking down at her plate, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Until now, you didn't tease me. What do you actually plan?" Y/n's eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, I plan to enjoy every moment with you, Tzuyu," he said, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone. "But I want us to savor this time together. To remember it for the rest of our lives." He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his cup. "Life is not just about sex, as amazing as it is. It's about the connections we make, the experiences we share."

Her heart fluttered at his words. She had never heard anyone speak to her with such tenderness, such raw emotion. It was as if he saw right through her, into the very core of her soul. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice a whisper. He placed his hand over hers, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. "I mean that I want to know you, Tzuyu," he said, his eyes searching hers. "Your thoughts, your dreams, what makes you happy, what makes you cry. I want to be the one who brings you pleasure, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well." The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. She had never expected their relationship to evolve into something so profound. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, she could see that he meant every word. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. "I... I want that too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They spent the rest of the morning exploring the island, hand in hand. The turquoise waters of the ocean sparkled in the sun, and the gentle breeze played with their hair. They talked and laughed, sharing stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. It was as if the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders, and she could breathe again. Tzuyu felt free, truly free for the first time in what felt like an eternity. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, they made their way back to the homestay, their stomachs rumbling with hunger. The scent of the sea lingered on their skin, a tantalizing reminder of their adventure. Inside, the room was cool and inviting, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the disheveled bed where their passions had unfolded earlier that morning.

Y/n pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss that spoke of love and passion intertwined. His mouth moved with purpose, his tongue exploring the depths of hers with a hunger that had only grown with time. The tender way his fingers traced the contours of her face made her heart flutter, a stark contrast to the fiery need that had driven their earlier encounters. Tzuyu's breath hitched as he gently guided her to the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the love and desire swirling within him, and it filled her with a warmth she had never known. His touch was like a balm to her soul, soothing the ache that had been festering since her wedding day. As they lay down, she felt the coolness of the sheets against her skin, a stark reminder of the heat that they had generated together. He took his time, his lips tracing a fiery path down her neck, across her collarbones, and finally reaching the swollen mounds of her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before switching to the other, making her gasp with pleasure. His hands roamed her body, relearning every curve and dip, as if committing them to memory for the long nights when she wouldn't be by his side.

"Make me feel good, y/n," she begged, her voice a breathy whisper. "Please, suck my pussy until I can't stop squirting." Without a word, he complied, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself between her legs. He took a moment to admire her bare pussy, glistening with arousal, before lowering his head and pressing his mouth to her clit. Tzuyu's body arched off the bed as he began to suck and lick, his tongue flicking and swirling in a way that made her vision swim with pleasure. He was relentless, his mouth a vortex of sensation that she couldn't escape from, even if she wanted to. 

Her hips began to rock against his face, her movements growing more erratic as the tension built within her. The feeling was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that grew more intense with every passing moment. She could feel the beginnings of her squirt, the dam threatening to burst, and she knew that when it did, it would be a flood unlike anything she had ever experienced before. The first wave hit her like a surprise summer storm, her pussy gushing wetness into his mouth. He groaned, the vibration of his pleasure sending shockwaves through her body. She looked down at him, his eyes locked onto hers, and she felt a strange sense of power. Her body was responding to him in a way she had never thought possible, and she reveled in it.

As her orgasm subsided, y/n didn't stop. He continued to stroke his cock, the sound of his hand moving up and down his shaft a rhythmic counterpoint to the soft cries of pleasure that escaped her lips. His eyes never left hers, and she felt a strange sense of vulnerability in that moment. He knew her body better than anyone else, and the thought made her pussy clench around his tongue. He pulled away, and she felt the cool air of the room kiss her sensitive flesh. His hand was a blur as he stroked himself, the head of his cock shiny with pre-cum. She watched, mesmerized, as he brought himself closer to the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sight of his barely contained desire was intoxicating, and she found herself eager for what was to come.

"Do you want it?" he growled, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you want to feel me inside you again?" Tzuyu nodded, unable to form the words that would express the intensity of her need. She watched as he began to stroke his cock, the motion of his hand a mesmerizing dance that had her pussy pulsing with anticipation. He stood up, his erection bobbing with every step as he approached her. The head of his cock was a deep shade of red, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

Without a word, he leaned in and placed the tip of his cock at her entrance, the precum glistening in the soft light. He pushed in slowly, savoring every inch of her, making sure she felt every part of him. Tzuyu moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his girth. It was as if her pussy had been made for him, a perfect fit that sent sparks of pleasure through her with every movement. Their bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion that resonated through the quiet room. Her walls clenched around him, begging for more as he thrust deeper, filling her completely. The sound of their flesh slapping together was a sweet music that only they could hear, a testament to their illicit bond. The scent of their desire filled the air, a heady aroma that made them both drunk with lust. 

Tzuyu felt so loved in that moment, the sex was different from what they had experienced before. It was no longer just about the raw, animalistic need to be filled. There was a tenderness in his touch that she hadn't felt previously, a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. His kisses were no longer just about claiming her, but about expressing the depth of his feelings. It was as if the walls between them had crumbled, and she could feel the love that had been simmering beneath the surface all along. As they lay on the bed, their bodies entwined, she watched him with a newfound admiration. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she felt the same way he did. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, words that seemed to hold the power to heal her soul. The passion grew with every breath they shared, and she felt herself climbing to a peak that she had never reached before. Tzuyu's body arched as y/n's cock slid in and out of her, their movements slow and deliberate. He knew her body like a maestro knew their instrument, playing her to perfection. She felt the pressure building, the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around his shaft. And then, it happened. The dam broke, and she squirted again, her juices soaking the bed beneath them. The intensity of her orgasm took her by surprise, and she screamed his name into the quiet night.

Y/n felt her pussy contract around him, the warmth of her squirt enveloping him, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He had never felt so connected to someone, so in sync with their desires. As she came down from her climax, her eyes searched his, and he knew that she felt it too. The bond between them was unbreakable, forged in passion and desire. He continued to move inside her, the sound of her squirt mixing with the slap of their skin. With each stroke, Tzuyu felt herself falling deeper into the abyss of pleasure. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was alive, singing with the sweet agony of ecstasy. Her pussy was still spasming, trying to milk every last drop of cum from him, even though he hadn't come yet. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced with her husband, and she couldn't help but crave more of it. Y/n's cock was like a living, breathing entity, a beast that demanded her full attention. Each time he pushed into her, she felt like she was being claimed, owned. His eyes never left hers, and she saw the same hunger reflected in their depths. The connection between them was palpable, a live wire that sizzled and crackled with each touch. Tzuyu's pussy clenched around him, desperate for release. She felt the pressure building, a dam ready to burst. "Again," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her screams. "Make me squirt again." Y/n grinned, feeling the challenge in her words. He knew her body better than she did, and he was eager to push her to new heights of pleasure. He picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of her with ease, the squelching sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the quiet room.

Tzuyu's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the familiar sensation building within her. Her body tensed, her muscles tightening as she approached the edge. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice barely audible. "I'm going to squirt again." Y/n's grin grew wider, his strokes becoming more forceful. He could feel her pussy tightening around his cock, the walls contracting in anticipation of her release. He knew she was close, and the thought of her squirting all over him again was driving him wild. He thrust deeper, his own need for release growing with every passing second.

The pressure inside Tzuyu was unbearable, a dam ready to burst. With a guttural cry, she squirted again, her pussy spasming around his cock. The warmth of her juices coated his shaft, sending him spiraling into his own climax. He roared, his hips jerking as he pumped his hot cum into her, filling her to the brim. They both stilled, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their bodies entwined in a sticky mess of sweat and cum.

Y/n leaned down, kissing her cheeks and forehead with gentle reverence. The tender gesture was a stark contrast to the brutal passion that had just taken place. His kisses were like a balm to her soul, soothing the guilt that had been gnawing at her. He looked into her eyes, and she saw a mix of satisfaction and something else, something deeper, something that made her heart clench in her chest. Tzuyu felt a single tear slip down her cheek. The emotions that were swirling within her were too much to contain. She had never felt so alive, so desired, so...free. His thumb brushed away the tear, his gaze never leaving hers. "What's wrong?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice shaking with a mix of love and lust. "It's just...you make me feel so much, y/n. More than I ever thought was possible." Her eyes searched his, looking for a hint of what he was feeling. Was it just lust, or was there something more? He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace. "You make me feel alive, Tzuyu," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I've never felt this way before." His words echoed through her, filling her with a warmth that seemed to melt away the last of her inhibitions. She leaned into him, her body fitting perfectly against his, as if they had been made for each other. Their breathing grew synchronized, and the sound of the waves outside the window became a lullaby that soothed them into a deep sleep. The room was filled with the sweet scent of their love making, a potent reminder of the passion they had shared. In the quiet, Tzuyu felt safe, protected by the very arms that had brought her such pleasure.

As they lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the lines between reality and dreams began to blur. Her mind drifted to the life she had left behind, the quiet mornings in her garden, and the comforting warmth of her husband's arms. Yet, here she was, nestled against the very man she had been warned about, her neighbor whose intentions were anything but neighborly. Y/n's chest rose and fell rhythmically, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath her ear. His arms were strong and warm, holding her close as if she might slip away at any moment. Tzuyu felt a pang of guilt at the thought of her husband, but it was quickly drowned out by the delicious feeling of y/n's skin against hers, the memory of his cock still pulsing inside her.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the room grew dark, but the heat between them remained a constant presence. "Good morning, beautiful," He murmured into her hair, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrated through her body. The scent of sizzling bacon filled the room, a welcome intrusion on the cocoon of sleep that had wrapped around them. Tzuyu stirred, her eyes slowly opening to see y/n standing in the kitchen, already dressed in a simple white tee and shorts. She watched him move around the kitchen with the grace of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His muscles flexed and relaxed as he cooked, a silent dance that was as mesmerizing as the passion they had shared just hours before.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. Y/n glanced over his shoulder, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "Morning, beautiful," he replied, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I hope you're hungry. I've made your favorite breakfast."

Tzuyu felt a rush of affection as she sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist. "You take care of me so well," she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. It was true; y/n had a way of making her feel cherished, even in the simplest of gestures. He had seen to her every need, both in the bedroom and out of it, and it was a stark contrast to the loveless routine she endured back home. As she slid out of bed, her eyes caught the time on the clock. "My husband always busy for his work," she said with a sigh, the weight of her words sinking into the quiet of the room. Her thoughts drifted to her husband, a man who had once been her rock, now a distant figure consumed by his career.

They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, the sound of their laughter mingling with the clinking of cutlery. The taste of the crispy bacon and the sweetness of the pineapple juice seemed to amplify the joy bubbling within her. Y/n's eyes never left hers, his gaze a silent promise of the passion they had shared and the secrets they now kept together. After they had finished eating, they decided to take advantage of the Maldivian sunshine. They ventured out to the beach, where they set up a makeshift volleyball net with the ease of two people who had done this countless times before. The sand was hot against her skin, but Tzuyu didn't care. Each step she took was lighter than the last, as if the weight of her guilt had been washed away by the salty ocean air. Their games grew increasingly playful, the ball often forgotten as they chased each other around the beach, their laughter echoing across the shoreline. The warmth of the sun kissed her skin, and she felt alive, more alive than she had in years. Y/n's touch was like a brand, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched her, a stark reminder of the intensity of their connection.

As the sun reached its zenith, they retreated to the shade of the palm trees, their bodies sticky with sweat and saltwater. They talked for hours, sharing stories from their past and dreams for their future. For the first time, Tzuyu felt truly seen and understood. His every word was a balm to her soul, soothing the wounds that her marriage had left behind. Their conversation grew quiet as they lay there, the gentle lull of the waves providing the perfect backdrop for their shared silence. Tzuyu felt a warm hand slip into hers, and she looked up to find y/n's eyes on her, filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache. The rest of the day was a blur of laughter and exploration, their connection growing stronger with every shared smile and touch. They swam in the crystal-clear waters, the fish darting around them like living jewels, and Tzuyu felt a sense of freedom she had long ago forgotten.

As the sun began to set, casting the sky in a symphony of pinks and oranges, they returned to their homestay, their bodies exhausted but their spirits soaring. They showered together, the water cascading over their entwined forms as they washed away the remnants of the day's adventures. Their night was spent in each other's arms, their bodies moving in a dance as old as time. The guilt had receded to the back of her mind, replaced by the all-consuming need for his touch. His cock filled her once again, stretching her to the limits of pleasure and pain, making her squirt uncontrollably. Each thrust was a declaration of his ownership, and she reveled in it, her cries of ecstasy a testament to their shared passion.

Their bodies finally stilled, their hearts pounding in unison. Tzuyu looked into y/n's eyes and knew she was lost to him, body and soul. Her marriage was a fading memory, replaced by the vibrant reality of their affair. As they lay there, basking in the afterglow, she knew she had made her choice. The question now was how she would face the consequences when she returned home. But for now, all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat, and the feeling of his seed still warm inside her. Their days in the Maldives were numbered, but their bond was unbreakable, forged in the heat of passion and tempered by the salty sea air. As they drifted off to sleep, she whispered the words she had been too scared to say aloud. "I love you, y/n." His reply was a gentle kiss on her forehead. "And I love you, Tzuyu." It was a simple declaration, but it held the weight of the world. They had crossed the point of no return, and she knew that she would never be the same again. The quiet night outside their window held the promise of tomorrow, and all the secrets it would bring. They decided to watch a movie, a romantic film that mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling within them. As the plot unfolded, their eyes remained locked, the unspoken understanding between them speaking louder than any words on the screen. His arm was around her, her head resting on his chest, and she could feel the steady thump of his heart. It was a comforting rhythm that seemed to sync with her own erratic beat. The movie's soundtrack swelled, and Tzuyu felt the warmth of his breath against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings, his voice a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. She was lost in the moment, her hand playing idly with the soft hairs on his chest as she listened to the soothing lilt of his voice. It was a stark contrast to the silence she had grown accustomed to in her own home, and she found herself craving more of it. As the credits rolled, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, casting flickering shadows across their entwined bodies. Without a word, y/n turned off the screen, and the darkness wrapped around them like a velvet blanket. She could hear the gentle crash of the waves outside, a lullaby that sang of passion and freedom.

Tzuyu shifted in his arms, her head resting on his bare chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong, a comforting rhythm that seemed to sync with the ebb and flow of the ocean. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on her eyelids. Her body was sated, her mind a whirlwind of emotions that she didn't dare untangle just yet. With a gentle sigh, y/n lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if they belonged there. He carried her through the villa, their steps silent on the cool marble floor. The moon cast a soft glow through the windows, painting the room in a palette of blues and grays. The air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking, a heady mix of sweat and desire that clung to their skin like a second skin. He laid her down on the bed with the same care that he had shown in her garden, his movements smooth and precise. She curled into him, her body fitting against his like a perfect puzzle piece. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her to his chest as if she was the most precious thing in the world. For a moment, she felt like she could stay in this cocoon forever, protected from the storm that was brewing outside.

The next few days were a blur of passion, laughter, and stolen moments. They explored the island with a hunger that went beyond the scenic beauty that surrounded them. Each glance, each touch, was a silent promise of the nights to come. Y/n treated her like a queen, ensuring she was pampered from dawn to dusk. He took her to the best restaurants, where they feasted on exotic foods that danced on her tongue, and he whispered sweet nothings that made her heart flutter like a caged bird. 

In the afternoons, they would retreat to the villa, where the air was charged with a tension that could only be relieved by the fiery kisses and desperate embraces that led them back to the bedroom. He would take his time with her, exploring every inch of her body as if it was the first time, making her squirt with every stroke of his tongue and every thrust of his cock. Her screams of pleasure echoed through the walls, a siren's call that seemed to beckon the very ocean to their doorstep.

And when the nights fell, they would make love with a fervor that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Each orgasm was a declaration of their love, a secret shared only between them. He whispered sweet promises into her ear, and she clung to him as if he was her lifeline, her only source of oxygen in the vast sea of her own desires. The vacation was not just about fun and lust; it was about finding a part of herself that she had buried deep within, a part that only y/n had the power to unleash.

But with each day that passed, the shadow of their impending separation grew longer. The laughter grew a little less genuine, the kisses a little more desperate. They both knew that the end was approaching, and yet, neither of them dared to speak of it. Instead, they filled their days with a passion that was as intense as it was bittersweet, trying to memorize every moment, every sensation, as if it could somehow preserve the magic of their time together.

On their last night, they stood on the balcony, holding each other tightly as the waves crashed against the shore. The moon was a silver sliver in the sky, casting a gossamer veil over the world below. He whispered her name, and she knew that she had to tell him how she felt. The words tumbled from her lips, a confession that had been building for days. "I love you, y/n," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. He pulled her closer, his heart pounding in his chest. He had hoped, prayed even, that she felt the same way he did. But hearing her say it was like being struck by lightning. "Tzuyu," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I love you too."

They kissed, their bodies pressed together as if they could somehow merge into one. The wind whipped around them, carrying their whispers out to the sea, a silent testament to the love that had bloomed in the most unlikely of places. The night was theirs, a stolen treasure that they would hold onto for as long as they could. The bedroom was a sanctuary, their final bastion of passion before the cold reality of their lives would come crashing down on them. They made love, their bodies moving in a dance that was as old as time itself. Each thrust was a declaration of war against the world that sought to tear them apart, each kiss a silent promise to find a way to make it work.

But as the dawn approached, the inevitable truth dawned on them. This was not a fairy tale where they could live happily ever after. They were two people from different worlds, bound by a love that was as fierce as it was forbidden. With heavy hearts, they dressed in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The plane ride home was a stark reminder of the life that awaited her. The empty seat beside her was a gaping hole, a painful reminder of the man she had left behind. She knew she had to return to her husband, to her garden, and to the quiet life she had built for herself. But she also knew that she could never be the same.

The taste of y/n's kisses lingered on her lips, a sweet agony that she both cherished and despised. The vacation had been a gift, the best she had ever received, but it had also unleashed a beast within her that she could no longer ignore. Each day was a whirlwind of sensual delights, a buffet of carnality that she feasted on greedily. They had explored every corner of the island, every hidden cove and sandy beach, making love under the shade of palm trees and in the warm embrace of the tropical sun.

Yet, amidst the fun and lust, y/n had been more than just a lover; he had been a caretaker, anticipating her every need. He had pampered her, spoiled her, showered her with affection that she had longed for in her loveless marriage. He had taken her to the heights of pleasure, whispering sweet nothings that had her toes curling and her pussy gushing. He had treated her like a queen, and she had reveled in the attention, letting herself be swept away by the current of his passion.

The final night in the Maldives was a crescendo of their love. They made love with an intensity that was almost violent, as if trying to imprint every sensation into their very souls. The bed was a battlefield, their cries of pleasure piercing the quiet night. His touch was a brand, searing into her flesh the memory of his love. And when the final orgasm had left her trembling and spent, she knew that she could never go back to the way things were before.

The next morning, as they packed their bags, the weight of their impending separation was palpable. They had shared two week of unbridled passion, but now they had to face the cold, hard truth. They were not teenagers with endless summers ahead of them; they were adults with responsibilities, with lives that didn't include each other. The air was thick with unspoken words, a fog that clouded her vision and made her heart ache. He looked up from his suitcase and met her gaze, his eyes filled with a desperation that mirrored her own. "Can you be mine, Tzuyu?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion. The words hung in the air, a question that held the power to shatter the fragile world they had built together. She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears. She wanted to say yes, to scream it from the rooftops and let the world know that she belonged to him.

But she knew she couldn't. She had a husband, a life that didn't include y/n. A life that was safe, predictable, and utterly devoid of the passion that had come to define her existence in the last two weeks. She felt torn in two, her heart a battleground for love and duty. "I don't know, y/n," she said softly, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. "I'm married. I can't just leave him." His eyes searched hers, desperation and hurt fighting for dominance. "But you said you loved me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You said I was the best you've ever had." Tzuyu felt the truth of his words like a knife to her heart. She had said those things, and she had meant them in the throes of passion. But love was not just about passion; it was about a lifetime of shared moments, commitments, and trust. "I do love you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I also love my husband, and I don't know how to tell him that I want a divorce."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering in his gaze. "How about we fuck in front of your husband?" he said, his tone cold and calculating. "Let him see what he's been missing out on." Tzuyu felt the blood drain from her face at the mere suggestion. "What are you talking about?" she stammered, her heart racing. "That's insane." Y/n shrugged, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "It's just an idea," he said, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and lust. "But think about it. He'd see how much you truly crave me, how much pleasure I give you."

Tzuyu's mind raced with the implications of his words. The thought of her husband watching as y/n claimed her body was both terrifying and arousing. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she couldn't shake off the temptation that whispered sweet nothings into her ear. "I don't know if I agree," she said, her voice shaking.

"Why not?" he demanded, his grip on her wrist tightening. "You said you love me. You said you want me to fuck you every day. What's the difference if he watches?" Tzuyu's heart hammered in her chest. "I...I need time to think," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of her husband seeing her with y/n, of the pain it would cause him, was too much to bear.

Y/n's smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. He released her wrist and took a step back. "Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "But don't take too long. I won't wait forever."

The tension in the room was palpable as they both dressed in silence. The magic of the Maldives had been shattered by the harsh light of reality. Tzuyu felt a deep sadness in her heart, knowing that their perfect bubble of passion was about to pop. They had to face the truth of their situation: two people in love, trapped in separate lives. They made their way to the airport, the weight of their secret hanging heavy in the air between them. The ride was tense, filled with unspoken words and furtive glances. The tropical paradise outside the window was a stark contrast to the turmoil in the car. Tzuyu's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the love she had just discovered and the life she was returning to.

At the airport, they checked in for their flights, the mundane process feeling like a slap in the face.  They found a quiet corner away from prying eyes, and Tzuyu reached for y/n's hand, lacing her fingers through his. He looked down at her, his expression a mix of love and desperation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know how to do this." He squeezed her hand tightly, his gaze intense. "Just think what I planned before, it's the only way." His voice was firm, a declaration of his resolve to claim her fully. Tzuyu felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. She knew the depth of his jealousy, the possessiveness that had grown within him during their time together. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to agree to such an extreme act. The thought of her husband watching, of the humiliation and pain it would cause, was too much to bear. But she also knew that y/n's love was like a tempest, unyielding and all-consuming. Her husband's arrival at the airport was a blur of smiles and hugs. She forced herself to play the role of the loving wife, while her heart was a tumult of passion and guilt. Y/n's gaze never left them, his eyes dark with unspoken anger and desire. She could feel his longing, his need for her to be his alone. As she walked away with her husband, she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting y/n's. He mouthed the words "I'll be waiting." The car ride home was awkward, her mind racing with thoughts of the man she was leaving behind. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that y/n's eyes were following her every move, even though he was miles away. Her husband noticed her distant behavior and attributed it to jet lag and the emotional strain of their vacation.

"Why are all your clothes clean?" he asked as they unpacked their suitcases in the bedroom, a hint of confusion in his tone. Tzuyu's heart skipped a beat. She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't realized she had brought back her dirty clothes from the Maldives. "Oh, I did a bit of laundry while you were away," she replied with a casual shrug, hoping her lie wasn't too transparent. The truth was she hadn't worn anything other than y/n's cum-stained clothes for the entire duration of their vacation. Each piece was a silent testament to their passionate encounters, and she had wanted to keep them close, a secret shrine to their love. But she couldn't risk her husband discovering her infidelity.

The days that followed were a blur of mundane routines and stolen glances at her phone, hoping for a message from y/n. She found herself replaying their moments in the Maldives, the way his hands had touched her, the sound of his moans in her ear, the feel of his warm cum filling her up. Her body ached for him, a craving that no amount of self-pleasure could satisfy. Her thoughts were consumed by the idea of y/n, his dominance, his love, and the intensity of their bond. Her husband noticed her distant gaze and the lack of enthusiasm in her voice when they talked. He attributed it to the post-vacation blues, not realizing that her heart was elsewhere, entangled in a web of guilt and desire for a man who wasn't him. Tzuyu forced a smile, going through the motions of a happy marriage, all the while feeling the emptiness of her bed, the coldness of the sheets that hadn't felt y/n's warmth in days.

Each night, she lay beside her husband, her body tense and unyielding. She tried to ignore the whispers of y/n's name that danced in her head, the memories of his touch that made her skin crawl with need. But the silence between them was a stark reminder of the passion she had left behind. She missed the way he had made her feel alive, the way he had claimed her, heart and soul. And as she stared into the darkness, she wondered if she could ever truly go back to the life she had before y/n. Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her phone on the nightstand. She reached for it with trembling hands, her heart racing at the sight of his name. **"U have three days left,"** the message read, **"If you don't give me an answer, I will leave you."** She read the words over and over, the ultimatum sinking in like a dagger to her heart. She knew she had to make a choice, one that would change the course of her life forever.

For two agonizing days, she walked around in a daze, her mind consumed by the images of their shared passion and the fear of losing the love she had found in his arms. She felt like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to resist the allure of his dominance, his touch, his love. The guilt of her actions sat like a heavy stone in her stomach, but the thought of never feeling his warmth again was unbearable. The final day came, and with it, a strange sense of clarity. She knew she couldn't keep living a lie, torn between her duty and her desires. With trembling fingers, she typed out her response. **"Okay,"** she sent back, her heart pounding in her chest. **"I will do it."** It was a decision that would shake the very foundations of her world, a declaration of her willingness to embrace the forbidden.

The anticipation grew with each passing hour, her body thrumming with a mix of excitement and dread. She knew what was coming, the ultimate test of her love for y/n and her commitment to their illicit bond. The night of the dinner party loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she couldn't bring herself to back out. Her fate was sealed; she had accepted his plan.

With trembling fingers, Tzuyu sent the message: **"How is the plan?"** She watched the screen, waiting for his response with bated breath. **"Good, I've been waiting for this,"** y/n replied with a smug smile. **"When he leaves for work, send him a message."**

The next day, Tzuyu waited anxiously for the right moment. As her husband packed his briefcase, she took a deep breath and typed out the message. **"Come home right now, there's a mysterious guy outside, i'm getting scared."** She sent it and waited for his response, her heart pounding in her chest. The seconds ticked by like hours, and when she finally heard the notification, she couldn't bring herself to look.

**"Who is this?"** Her husband's reply was swift and filled with confusion. She had never played games like this before, and the risk was palpable. **"It's me,"** she replied, her voice quivering. **"Just come back. I need you."** She watched the screen, willing him to read the urgency in her words. As the time for his return approached, she felt a strange mix of fear and excitement. Her hand shook as she unlocked the door, her body tense with anticipation. Y/n had instructed her to wear something that would drive him wild, so she had chosen a sheer negligee that barely contained her curves. When she heard the sound of his key in the lock, she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, her heart racing. 

The moment he stepped inside, y/n was on her, his kisses rough and demanding. He pushed her against the wall, his hands roaming her body as if claiming her once more. She gasped into his mouth, the fabric of her lingerie doing little to protect her from the heat of his touch. His hands found her breasts, squeezing them with a ferocity that made her moan, her nipples hardening under his palms. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. "You're mine," he murmured, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "I own every inch of you, Tzuyu. You know it, and now everyone will know it." Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of doubt or regret, but all she found was a fiery determination that mirrored her own. She nodded, her heart racing. "I sent the message," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "He'll be here soon."

With a smirk, y/n scooped her up in his arms, the strength of his embrace leaving her feeling both protected and vulnerable. He carried her to her bedroom, the same room where she had shared countless passionless nights with her husband. The difference was stark, like stepping from a black-and-white photograph into a world of vibrant color. He placed her gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, and she felt a strange sense of belonging. He began to tear at the fabric of her negligee, his movements swift and sure, as if he had done this a hundred times before. The sound of the delicate material ripping apart sent a thrill through her, the anticipation of what was to come making her wetter than she ever thought possible. He revealed her breasts with a flourish, the nipples already erect and begging for his touch. His eyes grew dark with lust, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of power knowing she was the one who had brought that look to his face.

With a low growl, he leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste her. He started licking her body like an animal searching for food, his hot wetness leaving a trail of fire wherever it touched. His tongue danced across her skin, exploring every inch of her with a feral hunger that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He licked her neck, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, and the sensitive skin of her stomach, his movements growing more urgent with every pass. Tzuyu's body arched off the bed.

"Oh god," she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Please, y/n, I can't take it anymore."

He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with victory. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise.

Tzuyu could feel the tension coiling tighter within her, her body a tightly wound spring about to snap. She nodded, unable to form coherent words, as the waves of pleasure grew stronger with every touch of his tongue. Y/n took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand found its way to her pussy. His fingers slid inside her with ease, the wetness of her arousal coating them instantly. He began to pump her, his thumb circling her clit with a rhythm that made her vision blur.

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, and she screamed out his name, the word echoing through the room. Her pussy clamped down on his fingers, releasing a torrent of juice that soaked the bed. She thrashed against the sheets, her body a wild canvas of passion and desire. The intensity of her climax took her by surprise, and she could feel her cheeks flush with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment.

Y/n pulled away from her breasts, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly slid his fingers out of her. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, licking the juices from her skin with a wicked grin. "You taste so sweet," he murmured before kissing her deeply, sharing the taste of her pleasure with her.

Her heart was racing in her chest, a wild drumbeat that seemed to echo the pounding of the waves outside their beachside villa. She knew what he wanted, what she had been craving since they had returned from the Maldives. The time for secrets was over; the time to face the consequences of their desires had arrived.

"Now is the time to fucked u," he growled, his voice thick with need. He didn't wait for a response, instead.

He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms tightly around his neck. Her heart raced as he carried her to the balcony, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she clung to him. She felt like a wild creature being claimed by its mate, the thrill of the forbidden mixing with the fear of being caught.

With one swift motion, he bent her over the railing, the wood biting into her skin. The world below was a blur of lights and shadows, a stark contrast to the intense intimacy of their union. His cock slammed into her, filling her up as the waves crashed against the shore, the rhythm of their passion mirroring the fury of the sea. The sound of their skin slapping together echoed through the quiet night, a secret symphony for their ears only.

Right now, he fucked tzuyu in flying squirrel position in front of the door of her bedroom,it makes tzuyu leg spread wide while his cock keep slamming into her g spot.

The world around them disappeared as they became one, lost in the throes of passion. Tzuyu could feel the eyes of the night on them, a silent audience to their clandestine dance. Yet, she didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of he's cock inside her, the way he filled her up, the way he made her feel alive.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her mouth formed a silent "O" as he hit her g-spot with unerring precision. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her quiver and moan. Her breasts bounced with every impact, and she knew that the sight of her exposed to the elements would only add to his excitement.

And then she heard it. The sound of the door opening, the soft murmur of voices. Her heart skipped a beat, and she pushed against him, trying to get away from the railing. "Y/n, my husband," she whispered frantically, her eyes wide open.

Y/n's grip tightened around her waist, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Let him see," he breathed into her ear, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Let him know what a whore you are for me."

The sound of her husband's footsteps grew louder as he ascended the stairs, oblivious to the betrayal unfolding in the open. Tzuyu felt a mix of fear and excitement, the danger of discovery making her pulse race even faster.

The bedroom door swung open with a creak that seemed to echo through the house. Her husband's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, taking in the scene before him: Tzuyu's naked body bent over the railing, y/n's muscular frame pounding into her from behind. The sight of her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, and the unmistakable gush of her squirt painting the floorboards was too much for him to comprehend.

Y/n didn't miss a beat, his rhythm never faltering as he continued to claim Tzuyu's pussy with fierce determination. He smirked at the shock on her husband's face, savoring the moment of victory. " she was a slut for my cock," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "did you know she squirts like a fountain when she's really turned on?"

Her husband's face was a mask of rage and betrayal, his fists clenching at his sides. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, the woman he had vowed to love and cherish being used so roughly by another man. But as Tzuyu's eyes met his, filled with a passion that had been absent from their own lovemaking for so long, a spark of doubt flickered in his gaze.

"What is this, Tzuyu?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Her husband's words barely registered in the haze of pleasure that clouded her mind. "I just want to show you," she panted, her voice thick with lust, "that I crave for his big cock."

Y/n's grip on her hips tightened as he drove into her deeper, his own pleasure spiking at her blatant disregard for the consequences. He could see the rage in her husband's eyes, the betrayal etched deep, and it fueled his own desire. "Look how this big dick stretches you out," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine.

Tzuyu felt the beginnings of another orgasm coil in her belly, her pussy tightening around him. "Yes, y/n," she moaned, the words slipping from her lips like a confession. "I want to squirt again. Please, don't stop."

Her husband's eyes bore into them, but she couldn't look away from y/n's, lost in the depths of her own betrayal and the overwhelming pleasure he gave her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice strained with the effort of speaking through the waves of pleasure. "I've been cheating behind your back."

The silence was deafening, only the sound of their breathing and the slap of skin on skin filling the room. Her husband's expression shifted from shock to anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "You what?" he roared, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I just can't, myself was begging to his cock from the first time we did," Tzuyu repeated, her voice a mix of apology and defiance. She felt the warmth of y/n's semen dripping down her legs, the evidence of her infidelity a stark reminder of the choice she had made. The words hung in the air like a noose around her neck, tightening with every passing second.

Her husband's face crumpled, the weight of her confession too much to bear. He stumbled back, his knees buckling as he sank to the floor. His hand came up to cover his eyes, as if to block out the sight of his wife's betrayal. A single tear traced a path down his cheek, a silent testament to the pain he felt in his heart.

Tzuyu watched him, her own body still trembling from her recent climax. She felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly dwarfed by the fire of lust that burned within her. Y/n's cock was still deep inside her, his hips still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He speak to tzuyu husband"Did you know that she was with me two weeks in Maldives, with her body always naked and I could fuck her whenever I wanted?" His words were a taunt, a declaration of victory that echoed through the room.

Her husband looked up at them, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "Is this true, Tzuyu?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice steady. "It was in the Maldives. He made me feel things I've never felt before." She didn't bother to hide the raw emotion in her voice, the love and desire she had for y/n shining through like a beacon.

Her husband's eyes flicked to y/n, his face a mask of fury and pain. "You're a monster," he spat, his hand clenching into a fist. "How could you do this to me?"

"It wasn't just me," y/n said, his voice cold and unapologetic. "It was both of us. She wanted it just as much as I did."

Tzuyu felt his cock pulse inside her with each word, a silent declaration of his claim on her body and soul. She watched her husband's face contort with rage, his eyes flickering between her and y/n, unable to believe the man he had trusted could do this to him.

"Tzuyu, tell him," y/n demanded, his voice thick with his own release. "Tell him how I made you squirt for the first time. Tell him how good I made you feel."

Her eyes flicked to her husband's face, the anger in his eyes a stark contrast to the passion that had just claimed her body. She took a deep breath, the words sticking in her throat. "It's true," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Y/n was the one who made me squirt for the first time."

"How many times i made u squirt and how many times i came inside your womb ?" Y/n ask tzuyu.

Tzuyu felt the weight of his question, the reality of their transgressions pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. "Too many times," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears "maybe thousand or hundred times.".

Her husband's fists clenched at his sides, his eyes dark with betrayal. "Is that all you want from me?" he spat. "To be used like some kind of... some kind of whore?"

Y/n's grip tightened around her, his hips grinding into her. "Tell him," he murmured again, his voice a seductive whisper in her ear. "Tell him you want me, that you need me."

Tzuyu's chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I do," she admitted, the words tearing from her like a confession. "I want to marry you, y/n. I want to have your children."

The room was silent, the only sound the heavy thud of her husband's heart beating against the wall of his chest. Y/n's eyes gleamed with victory, his cock still buried deep within her, her pussy clenching around him in silent agreement.

"You can't be serious," her husband choked out, his voice thick with pain.

Tzuyu looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. "I am," she said softly. "I've never felt this way with you." The words were like a knife, twisting in the wound that had been festering for years.

Her husband's face crumpled, the realization of her betrayal and the depth of her feelings for y/n too much to bear. He pulled away from her, his hand slipping from her cheek. "I'll leave you two," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

He turned, his eyes avoiding the sight of his wife's nakedness, and walked out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Tzuyu and y/n in a heavy silence that was as thick as the scent of their mingled arousal. Tzuyu felt a tear slip down her cheek as she watched her husband's retreating back, the man she had once loved so fiercely now just a shadow of the life she once knew.

Y/n pulled out of her, his cock still hard and slick with her juices. He reached out, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. "Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We'll be together now."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she nodded, unable to form coherent thoughts. Her body was a live wire, still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasms. She had never felt so alive, so desired, so utterly consumed by someone else's touch. Her marriage felt like a distant memory, a fading photograph that no longer held any significance in the vivid tapestry of her life.

Her husband's footsteps grew fainter as he retreated into the other room, the sound of his pain a stark reminder of the chaos she had just unleashed. But even as the guilt began to creep in, she couldn't deny the pull of y/n's embrace. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss that seemed to promise a future filled with passion and excitement. And she kissed him back, her body responding instinctively, as if it had always been meant for him.

As their kiss deepened, y/n's hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her still-sensitive clit. He began to stroke her again, his movements slow and deliberate, and she moaned into his mouth, her legs parting of their own accord. She didn't care if her husband heard them, didn't care if the entire neighborhood knew. All that mattered was the feel of y/n inside her, the way he made her squirt with every thrust, filling her up with his hot cum.

Their lovemaking was a symphony of desire, each movement in perfect harmony with the other. He took her again and again, their bodies a testament to the power of their connection. She felt him swell inside her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. "Don't stop," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "Make me come again."

He complied, his strokes growing faster, his breath hot against her neck. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure in her core growing tighter and tighter until she could hold it no longer. She screamed out his name, her body shaking with the force of her release. He followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his seed. They clung to each other, their hearts beating as one, their bodies slick with sweat.

When the waves of pleasure finally receded, they lay there, their breathing ragged and their hearts still pounding. Tzuyu knew that she had made a choice, a choice that would change her life forever. She looked up at y/n, her eyes filled with love and regret. "What do we do now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze intense. "We do what we should have done from the start," he said, his voice a mix of passion and determination. "I want to claim every part of this house, to erase the stain of your husband's touch from your life." He kissed her again, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth as if he could taste her soul.

They moved through the house, their bodies entwined, leaving a trail of passion in their wake. Every room held a memory of a mundane moment from her married life, and every time y/n fucked her in a new place, it felt like a declaration of war against the stagnation she had suffered. They were a whirlwind of desire, a force of nature that could not be contained.

In the living room, y/n bent her over the couch, his cock sliding into her from behind as she gripped the cushions. The sound of their flesh slapping together echoed through the space, a stark contrast to the quiet evenings she had spent watching TV with her husband. In the bedroom, she straddled him, her walls clenching around him as if trying to keep him with her forever. Each thrust was a silent promise that she would never again belong to anyone else.

And when they reached the final room, the office where her husband had spent so many nights ignoring her, y/n picked her up and placed her on the desk, her legs spread wide. He took her with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, and with each stroke, she felt herself breaking free from the chains of her old life. The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a potent mix that intoxicated them both.

As they reached their climax, y/n pulled out and painted her stomach and breasts with his cum, marking her as his. He then took out his phone, capturing the moment forever. The image of her, her pussy still spasming with the aftershocks of pleasure and his seed leaking out of her, was like a trophy of their conquest. Her face was a canvas of ecstasy, her eyes glazed over and her lips swollen from his kisses. She watched him through the reflection in the window, the moonlight casting a glow on their intertwined bodies.

"Send that photo to ur husband to make him envy," he whispered into her ear, his voice a dark caress that sent another shiver down her spine. The idea was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure, but she knew that it was a declaration of war, a declaration that she belonged to him now. Her hand trembled as she took the phone, her thumb hovering over the send button. The weight of the decision was like a boulder on her chest, but she knew she had to do it.

With a deep breath, she send out the photo with caption: "U never make me like this, only y/n can. That's why I choose him." She hit send, and the message disappeared into the digital ether, the final nail in the coffin of her marriage. The silence in the room was deafening as they both waited for a response, the only sound their ragged breaths and the distant wail of a siren outside.

The tension was palpable, but then, y/n leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's see what he says," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and malice. Tzuyu couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation bubbling up inside her. The sound was a strange mix of relief and hysteria, a release of all the pent-up emotion from the past few days.

The response was almost immediate. Her husband's furious message filled the screen, a torrent of anger and betrayal that only served to reinforce her decision. She read the words with a detached calm, knowing that she had chosen her path. The photo had been a declaration of her newfound freedom, a declaration of her love for the man who had taught her the true meaning of passion and desire.

Tzuyu looked up from her phone to find y/n watching her, his expression a mix of excitement and concern. She met his gaze, and in that moment, she knew that she had made the right choice. He was her future, the man who had brought color to her once-monochrome life. The man who had made her squirt like a teenager and brought her to heights of pleasure she had never before known.

With a shaky smile, she turned to him, her heart racing with anticipation. "It's done," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thunderous pounding in her chest. "I've sent it."

Y/n's eyes lit up with triumph, and he pulled her into a fierce embrace. "You're mine," he murmured against her ear, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill down her spine. "Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to marry."

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. The divorce was swift and brutal, a battle of wills that Tzuyu emerged from with the victory she had sought. Her husband's disbelief and rage only fueled her resolve, and she walked away from the ashes of their marriage with her head held high, her heart filled with the promise of a life with y/n.

Their wedding was a small affair, an intimate gathering of those who truly mattered. As she exchanged vows with the man who had claimed her so thoroughly, she felt a sense of belonging that she had never known before. His hand in hers was a promise of forever, a promise she eagerly accepted.

Their honeymoon suite was a sanctuary of love, a place where y/n could continue to worship her body in every way imaginable. The walls echoed with her cries of pleasure, her pussy squirting in response to his relentless lovemaking. Every thrust of his cock was a declaration of his love, and she reveled in the feeling of being filled by him, over and over again.

In those passionate moments, time seemed to stand still. His love was an intoxicating force that consumed her, leaving her breathless and begging for more. Her body was his playground, and he explored it with a hunger that never ceased. Each orgasm was a testament to their connection, a shared secret that bound them closer than any vow could ever do.

Yet, amidst the passion, Tzuyu was acutely aware of the world outside their bubble. She knew that their love was not universally accepted, that there would be whispers and judgments. But as she felt his cum fill her once again, she also knew that she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the love they shared, the love that had set her free from the shackles of her old life.

Their love was a storm, wild and untamed, and it raged on unabated. Each day brought new heights of ecstasy, each night a symphony of moans and whispers of love. They were lost in a sea of passion that neither wanted to navigate out of. And as Tzuyu lay there, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, she whispered the words she had been longing to say. "I want your baby," she said, her eyes shining with hope.

Y/n's smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, a smile that spoke of joy and love and a future filled with the sweet chaos of a family. He leaned in to kiss her, his cock still nestled inside her, and she knew that she had made the right choice.

Their love grew with each passing day, and soon, her belly grew too. The thought of carrying his child was a miracle she had never dared to dream of. Yet, as her stomach swelled with new life, she felt a sense of peace that surpassed all understanding.

But with the joy came the fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the judgmental eyes of the world, fear of the future. Yet, every time she looked into y/n's eyes, she found strength. His love was a bastion she could always retreat to, a force that could vanquish any doubt or insecurity.

Tzuyu had never felt more alive, more loved, more cherished. Her life was no longer a series of mundane routines but a tapestry of passion and excitement, woven together by the threads of their love. And as she watched him sleep, his hand resting gently on her rounded belly, she knew that she would face whatever the future held with the same fierce determination that had brought them to this moment.

For she was not just a woman in love; she was a woman transformed, a woman who had found her true self in the arms of the man who had claimed her heart and her body, forever.

Years passed, and with each season, Tzuyu felt y/n's love for her deepen. His cock had become a symbol of their union, a beacon of pleasure that pierced through the darkness of doubt and uncertainty. He gave her his essence, his very life force, with every creampie, filling her womb with the hope of new life. Yet, as the months grew into years, the absence of a child grew heavier, a question mark hanging over their love nest. Despite the relentless passion, the fertility tests remained negative, the doctors puzzled.

Tzuyu's mind swirled with questions, each more troubling than the last. Had she waited too long? Was there something wrong with her? Yet, y/n's love remained unwavering, his desire for her as potent as ever. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, promising her the world, and she believed him, for she had seen him move mountains with his love. His semen was a sacred elixir, a gift that she craved and revered, and she took it gratefully, her pussy swelling with each injection of his love.

Their lovemaking had become a ritual, a dance of desire and need that transcended the physical realm. He would fuck her until she was nothing but a trembling mess of pleasure, her pussy gushing with the evidence of her love for him. And then, he would fill her, his cock pulsing with life, his semen spilling into her with a warmth that seemed to reach the very core of her soul. Afterwards, they would lay entwined, her body a canvas for his adoration, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

But the whispers grew louder with time, the shadows of doubt creeping in. Why wasn't she pregnant? Was it the universe's cruel joke, to give them so much pleasure yet deny them the fruit of their love?.

After five long years, the miracle they had both been praying for finally happened. Tzuyu's belly swelled with life, a testament to their unyielding passion and love. When y/n heard the news, he was over the moon, his eyes shining with a joy that could outshine the stars. He took her in his arms, his cock already hardening at the thought of what they had created together.

He showered her with love and attention, preparing her favorite meals and rubbing her swollen belly with gentle strokes that never failed to elicit a contented sigh from her. He whispered sweet promises to the little life growing inside her, pledging to protect and cherish it as he did its mother. Every creampie now had a purpose, a sacred offering to the child that would soon be a part of them.

Their love grew even more intense with each passing day, the bond between them tightening like a coil about to spring. Y/n took her to the finest doctors, ensuring that she and the baby would receive the best care. He painted the nursery in soft pastels, filling it with plush toys and tiny clothes that made Tzuyu's heart swell with joy. The anticipation of their child's arrival was a constant presence, a drumbeat that grew louder with each passing week.

But the fear remained, a snake coiled around her heart. What if something went wrong? What if she lost the baby? She clung to y/n, drawing strength from his unwavering belief in her, in them. And with each squirt of his love, she felt a surge of power, a reminder that she was not alone in this.

Their love was a force to be reckoned with, a tempest that had weathered the storms of doubt and despair. And as she felt the first flutters of life within her, she knew that together, they could conquer any challenge that lay ahead. The future was uncertain, but in the arms of her lover, with the promise of a new life growing within her, Tzuyu felt ready to face it all.

Y/n was her rock, her anchor in the tumultuous sea of change that washed over her. He anticipated her every need, his gentle touch and soothing words a balm to her frazzled nerves. He knew her body was changing, knew the fears that haunted her dreams. He was there with her, every step of the way, whispering reassurances into her ear as he cradled her swollen belly. His eyes shone with a fierce protectiveness that made her feel like the most cherished creature on earth.

He pampered her, making her favorite meals with a care that bordered on the obsessive. He knew her cravings, her mood swings, and her ever-changing body like the back of his hand. He massaged her sore feet, her swollen ankles, and the small of her back, where the weight of their unborn child rested heavily. He talked to the baby, his deep voice a gentle rumble that made Tzuyu's heart melt. His love was boundless, and she felt it in every stroke, every kiss, every tender caress.

But even as they basked in the glow of their love, the whispers grew louder, the shadows stretching further. Her mind was a maelstrom of what-ifs and fears, her thoughts racing faster than the galloping heartbeat of their child. What if she wasn't enough? What if she failed as a mother? Y/n could see the turmoil in her eyes, the doubt that gnawed at her from within. He took her in his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, and whispered the words that had become their mantra. "We're in this together." And she believed him, because she had no choice but to.

The days grew longer, the nights shorter, and still, y/n was by her side. He held her hand through every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, his face a mirror of her own excitement and fear. His cock was a symbol of their unity, a bridge that connected them to the life they had created. Whenever she felt overwhelmed, he would fill her with his love, his semen a warm embrace that reminded her that she was not alone.

And in those quiet moments, when the world outside had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the rhythm of their hearts and the gentle dance of their limbs, she found peace. Their love had become more than just a passionate affair; it was a lifeline, a promise that no matter what the future held, they would face it as one.

Tzuyu felt the weight of his gaze on her, the love in his eyes a beacon that guided her through the fog of uncertainty. And in the stillness of those moments, she knew that she had made the right choice. Her body was changing, her life was transforming, but with y/n beside her, she was ready to embrace it all. For in the chaos of creation, they had found their sanctuary, their love a beacon that shone through the darkest of nights.

The last trimester of her pregnancy brought with it a new set of challenges. Her body had become a vessel for the life they had created together, and y/n's love for her grew in tandem with the child within her. Despite the fear that whispered in the back of her mind that her changing body might push him away, his desire for her only grew stronger. He worshipped her swollen belly, her heavy breasts, and the soft curves that had once been so toned.

Every day, he made love to her, his cock sinking into her swollen pussy with a reverence that brought tears to her eyes. His love was a force that transcended the physical, reaching into the very core of her being. And as they climaxed together, her body convulsed with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful, her juices spurting out like a fountain, soaking their bed, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and creation.

The sight of her squirting brought him to his own peak, his face a mask of ecstasy as he filled her with his cum. And in those moments, she felt complete, whole. Her breasts grew heavy with milk, her nipples hard and sensitive. And when the sprays of white began, he was there, his mouth eager, drinking in the essence of her love. It was a ritual that bonded them in a way that nothing else could, a testament to their love and the life they had created together.

The sound of their love filled the room, echoing off the walls that had seen so much passion and pain. And as the tremors of their shared climax subsided, she looked into his eyes and knew that she had found her home. Her fears dissipated like morning mist, replaced by a fierce determination to face the future as his slut, as his wife, as the mother of his child. For in the end, it was not just her body that had changed; it was her soul, forever intertwined with the man who had claimed it.

The final days of her pregnancy were a blur of anticipation and fear, of joy and doubt. But through it all, y/n's love remained a constant, a beacon that guided her through the storm. And as they prepared for the birth of their child, Tzuyu felt a sense of peace she had never known before. The whispers of the past had been silenced by the roar of their love, and she knew that she had found her place in the world, nestled in the arms of the man who had claimed her heart.

The contractions began with the softness of a whisper, a gentle nudging that grew into a crescendo of pain and power. Y/n was with her every step of the way, his hand in hers, his eyes never leaving her face. He encouraged her, whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his love a balm to her soul. And when she felt the overwhelming urge to push, she knew that she could do it, because she had him.

Their love was a force of nature, unstoppable and all-consuming. And as she bore down, her body a battleground for the miracle of life, she felt the warmth of his love surrounding her, lifting her up. His encouragement was a symphony in her ears, his touch a lifeline that connected her to the world outside the pain.

And then, with a final, triumphant push, their child was born. A perfect little being that looked at them with wide, wondering eyes. Y/n's face was a picture of pure joy, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he cut the cord that bound them all together. They had done it, they had created life from love, and nothing could ever break that bond.

The midwife placed the squalling baby on Tzuyu's chest, and she felt a rush of emotion so profound it stole her breath away. This was the culmination of their love, the ultimate proof that they were meant to be together. And as she looked into the tiny face that mirrored hers, she knew that she had never been more loved, more complete, more alive.

In that moment, with their newborn child nestled between them, their love story was rewritten. It was no longer just about the passion that had brought them together, but the love that had grown from that fire, a love that had survived betrayal, doubt, and societal judgment. It was a love that had created life, that had transcended the physical to become something sacred and unbreakable.

Y/n took her hand, his eyes never leaving hers as they watched their child nurse at her breast. The sight of her, so vulnerable and beautiful, filled him with a love that was both fierce and gentle. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat, the sweetness of her love. And when she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, he knew that she felt it too.

Their love had been tested, but it had not wavered. It had grown stronger, a testament to their resilience and the depth of their bond. They were no longer just lovers, but partners, bound together by the life they had brought into the world. As they held each other, the whispers of doubt and fear faded away, replaced by the soft cooing of their child and the gentle beat of their hearts.

Their future was a blank canvas, a tapestry of moments yet to be woven. They had no idea what challenges lay ahead, what joys or pains would come their way. But in that moment, as they lay entwined, surrounded by the warmth of their love and the new life they had created, they were ready to face it all. For in each other's arms, they had found their home, their sanctuary, their forever.

And so, as the sun set on the first day of their new lives, Tzuyu and y/n held each other tightly, their love a beacon in the night. They whispered promises of forever, of always being there, of never letting go. And as their child slept, the symphony of their hearts played on, a melody that would carry them through every storm, every heartache, every moment of pure, unbridled joy.

For in the chaos of creation, they had found their harmony, their love a force that could conquer any challenge. They were ready to face the world as one, to show the world that love was not bound by convention or expectation, but by the simple, unshakeable truth of two souls that had found each other.

In the days that followed, Tzuyu watched y/n with new eyes, his every move a declaration of his love and dedication. He was a doting father, his rough hands gentle as he cradled their child, his eyes soft with wonder as he watched their baby grow. He was a devoted husband, his love for her a constant reassurance that she had made the right choice.

Their love had not just survived the storm; it had thrived in it. It had grown from a passionate affair into a love that was unshakeable, a bond that nothing could break. And as they faced the world together, hand in hand, they knew that they had created something beautiful, something that would last a lifetime.

The whispers of their past had been silenced, the shadows of doubt banished by the light of their love. They had come through the fire, and emerged stronger, more in love than ever before. The world had not ended with their revelation; instead, it had opened up, revealing a path they had never dared to dream of.

Tzuyu knew that she had found her place in the world, not as someone's possession, but as an equal, a partner, a mother. And as she watched y/n playing with their child, his laughter ringing through the house like a bell, she knew that she had found not just love, but a life that was truly hers. A life filled with passion, with purpose, with the promise of forever.

And as she felt the warmth of his gaze on her, as his hand found hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, she knew that she had made the right choice. For in the end, it was not about societal norms or the expectations of others; it was about the love that burned between them, a love that had created a life that was more beautiful than any garden she had ever tended. A love that was wild, untamed, and utterly, completely theirs.

Y/n looked up from her breast, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Only one baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But your breasts are definitely more than enough for the both of us." He took the other in his mouth, the suction causing her to arch her back and gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a reminder of the passion that had brought them to this moment.

The baby's cries grew louder, a symphony of need that pierced the haze of their desire. Tzuyu's laughter was breathless as she reached down to stroke his hair. "You're insatiable," she whispered, her voice a caress that sent a shiver down his spine. He pulled away from her, his cock standing at attention, and stood up from the bed. "Let's go take care of our little interrupter," he said with a grin, his hand outstretched to help her up.

They moved in unison, their bodies still attuned to each other's rhythms despite the chaos of their new life. The nursery was a soft glow of moonlight, their baby's tiny face scrunched in a frown. Y/n picked her up with ease, cradling her in his arms as he began to murmur sweet nothings that had always had a way of calming her. Tzuyu watched them, her heart swelling with love, her hand absently tracing the contours of her own body, marveling at the changes that had occurred.

Her breasts were full and heavy with milk, her stomach still rounded despite the baby's birth. Her pussy, so recently ravished, was now a soft, tender bud waiting to bloom once more. And as she watched her husband with their daughter, she felt the stirrings of desire once again, the hunger that never truly left her. The sight of them together was a reminder of the love that had started it all, the love that had created this perfect little being.

With the baby latched onto his finger, y/n turned to Tzuyu, his eyes dark with want. "Let's get her back to sleep," he said, his voice low and seductive. "And then, I want to taste that sweet cunt of yours again." She felt a thrill at his words, the ache between her legs growing more insistent. She knew that despite the interruption, their love was far from over.

They rocked the baby to sleep, their movements in sync as they had become in every aspect of their lives. And when the cries finally subsided into gentle snuffles, they laid her down in her crib, their eyes never leaving hers. Then, as if on cue, they turned to each other, the tension between them palpable.

He took her hand and led her back to their bedroom, the door clicking shut with a finality that seemed to seal them in their own world once again. The bed was a rumpled mess, the evidence of their love scattered around them like confetti. He kissed her, his tongue delving into her mouth, a promise of what was to come.

Her body responded immediately, her nipples hardening, her pussy growing wet. He pulled her nightgown over her head, his hands exploring her curves with a familiarity that sent shivers down her spine. His cock was hard and insistent, pressing against her stomach, leaving a trail of pre-cum that she eagerly followed with her finger.

He groaned into her mouth as she stroked him, the sound vibrating through her. Her hand grew bolder, her grip tightening as she felt him grow even harder. And when she finally led him to her waiting entrance, she moaned, the feel of him inside her a balm to the ache she hadn't realized was there.

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, a sweet symphony of sighs and whispers. His cock filled her completely, his movements a tender exploration of her body's new landscape. And as they moved together, the whispers of their love grew louder, drowning out the cries of their past, the fears and the doubts.

Y/n could feel her milk let down, her breasts leaking with every thrust, and he couldn't resist the temptation. He pulled away from her kiss to lean down, his mouth closing over one of her erect nipples, suckling deeply. Tzuyu arched her back, her eyes rolling back in her head at the sensation. The taste of her milk was sweet and addictive, a flavor that seemed to hold the very essence of her love.

He groaned against her skin, his hand moving to her other breast, kneading and caressing as he drank his fill. Her milk soaked the bed, mingling with their sweat, creating a scent that was uniquely theirs. And as he fucked her, the rhythm of his hips a steady beat, he felt something inside him shift. It was more than just desire, more than just the need to claim her. It was a hunger that went bone deep, a craving that only she could satisfy.

Her walls tightened around him, her orgasm building like a crescendo. He could feel the warmth of her milk on his chest, the stickiness of their love coating them both. And as she came, her body shaking with the force of her release, he knew that he had found his heaven. This was where he belonged, inside her, surrounded by the proof of their love.

Her milk flowed freely, and he lapped it up with the same fervor that he had used to kiss her mouth, her neck, her breasts. It was a declaration of his love, a claiming of her body and her soul. And as they lay together, their hearts beating in sync, their bodies entwined in a tapestry of love and need, they knew that nothing would ever come between them again.

The whispers of doubt had been silenced by the roar of their passion, the shadows of fear banished by the light of their love. They had created a world unto themselves, a sanctuary where they could be free, where they could love without limits.

And as he pulled out, his cock still hard and slick with their combined juices, he watched her body with a sense of awe. She was more beautiful than any garden, more precious than any jewel. And as he reached for her hand, their fingers interlocking, he knew that he had found his home.

Their love had grown from a secret affair into a love that could conquer any storm. And as they lay there, their hearts open and raw, they knew that they had been given a gift. A child, a love that was pure and unshakeable, and a future filled with promise.

Their bodies were still slick with passion when they finally collapsed onto the bed, their breathing ragged and their hearts pounding. Y/n wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. They were the same words he had whispered countless times before, but now they held a new meaning, a promise of forever.

Tzuyu felt a sense of peace settle over her, a warmth that started in her chest and spread throughout her body. She knew that she had made the right choice, that she had found her soulmate in the most unexpected of places. And as she drifted off to sleep, her body sated and her heart full, she whispered the words that had become their mantra.

"I love you, y/n," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Forever and always."

He pulled her closer, his hand cupping her still-leaking breast, his thumb stroking her nipple gently. "And I love you, Tzuyu," he replied, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness. "With every beat of my heart, with every breath I take."

They lay together, their bodies a tapestry of love and trust, their hearts beating in a duet that was theirs alone. The taste of her milk still lingered on his tongue, a sweetness that seemed to echo the purity of their love. As he drifted off to sleep, the warmth of her body against his, y/n felt a sense of contentment that washed over him like a gentle rain.

The night was a canvas of shadows, the moonlight playing across their tangled limbs like an artist's brush. Their baby slept peacefully in her crib, a testament to the love that had created her. The whispers of doubt and fear had been silenced by the roar of their passion, the shadows of the past banished by the warm glow of their future.

As they slept, their bodies entwined, their love grew stronger, the bond between them unbreakable. Tzuyu dreamed of the days ahead, of watching their child grow, of the adventures they would share as a family. Y/n's arms were a warm cocoon around her, his breath steady and comforting. In the quiet of the night, she knew that she had found her home, her heart's true north.

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden hue over the bed. Tzuyu stirred, the warmth of the sun caressing her skin. She looked down to find y/n still sleeping, his hand curled around her breast, his mouth open slightly. She felt a thrill of desire, her body responding to his touch even in slumber. Carefully, she lifted his head, the pillow of her arm giving way to the softness of the mattress.

He blinked sleepily up at her, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of her. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning," she replied, her voice a soft purr that made his cock twitch. "How did you sleep?"

He chuckled, his eyes dropping to her breasts. "Like a baby," he said, his voice filled with mischief. "And speaking of babies..." His hand moved to the baby monitor, pressing the button to check on their daughter. Her gentle coos filled the room, a sweet melody that brought a smile to both of their faces.

They lay there for a moment, listening to the sound of their child's breathing, their hearts swelling with love. Then, with a yawn that stretched his whole body, y/n sat up, his eyes never leaving hers. "I have to admit," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. "I've developed quite a taste for your milk."

Tzuyu felt a blush creep up her neck, her nipples hardening under his gaze. "Well," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "I suppose I'll have to keep producing it, then."

He leaned down to kiss her, his mouth lingering on hers as he reached for her breast once more. "Oh, I have every intention of making sure you do," he murmured, his eyes dark with need.

Their love had grown from a secret to a garden that bloomed in the light of day, a testament to their strength and the depth of their feelings. And as they kissed, the taste of her milk mingling with the sweetness of their love, they knew that they had found their forever.

For in that moment, there was only the two of them, their bodies joined as one, creating a new melody that resonated through every fiber of their beings. They were no longer just lovers, but parents, a bond that went beyond the physical, beyond the confines of their own desires.

Their love had been tested, but it had not just survived; it had evolved, grown into something more profound, more meaningful. And as they lay entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the night, Tzuyu knew that she had found her place in the world. A place filled with love, with passion, with the promise of forever.

[isabellabrodar]

in broad daylight - teen wolf (chapter II)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a fire/people burning

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The faint hum of the dishwasher fills the otherwise quiet house. It’s well past midnight. 

The front door creaks open and Stiles steps into our living room. His gaze finds me on the couch. I had thrown a blanket over my bare legs, still wearing the dress from the party. My heels were tossed aside next to the coffee table. 

“I’m home, and miraculously, apparently not grounded. I kind of expected Dad to be waiting for me,” he whispered. “I told him you were the designated driver and taking Scott home. You’re welcome” I now looked at him directly.

“My hero,” he sighs whilst plopping down on the other end of the couch and kicking off his shoes. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to gather my thoughts as neither of us said anything. 

I hadn’t been able to steady my heartbeat since seeing Derek Hale in the woods. Tears had started to fill my eyes as long suppressed memories came flooding back. The immense loss and pain I had felt six years ago too much to bear. 

But I had taken a deep breath, put on a big smile and found my way back to Lydia. It was her night after all.  “So... how’s your friend Derek?” I asked casually, sipping on a cup of tea I had made about half an hour ago. It was cold.

“My what now?” Stiles chocked. “Don’t play dumb. It’s way too late for that. I saw Scott leave with him. You were talking. Whispering. Conspiring.”

“Okay, first of all—conspiring? What are we, spies? Supervillains?”

“I mean, you are suspiciously pale.” I said.

“That’s just my skin tone! Genetic misfortune! And the same as yours by the way. Look—Scott’s just dealing with some... stuff. Weird stuff. Guy stuff.” He was now fumbling with his hands. It’s unusual to see Stiles this nervous but then again, he normally didn’t keep any secrets from me. 

“Guy stuff?” I straightened out my back and leaned over the table, putting down the now empty cup with a loud thud. 

“Yup. Totally normal hormonal teen male things. Like... puberty and... deep brooding.” He was trying to give me a nonchalant look. “Right. And Derek Hale is his... puberty coach?” I sat back against the cushions again.

Stiles blew out a small huff of air and said: “...I need better excuses.”  “Yeah. You really do.” I knew he could hear the underlying hurt in my voice. And I also knew that he was desperately trying to come up with a better excuse.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable and I kept watching him closely. “Stiles... if something is going on, you can tell me. You should tell me.” “I know,” he said quietly.

Another beat of silence followed.

A light was turned on in the hallway and a second later our father appeared next to the door. He was still wearing his uniform, dark circles under his eyes making it quite obvious that he hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep these past few days. The discovery of the mutilated body of Laura Hale was not exactly a small mystery to solve for the Sherriff of the Beacon Hills police.

“Let me guess. Stiles dragged you into one of his late-night conspiracy theories again?” He gave us a small smile.

“He was just trying to convince me Derek Hale is Scott’s life coach.” I said sweetly.

“Well, that explains everything,” he said whilst rubbing his eyes and trying to stop a yawn from escaping. He gave us both a look that said go to bed and disappeared back toward the kitchen without another word. “I wasn’t lying, you know. Not exactly,” Stiles said quietly.

“You just weren’t telling me the truth,” I countered, not being able to hide the pain in my voice entirely. 

Stiles sighs as I started to unwrap my legs from the blanket and grabbed my phone from the coffee table.

“You’re going to tell me what you’re thinking?” 

“Nope.” I answered quickly whilst making my way over to the hallway.

I heard him say: “Okay, I deserved that.” before shutting the door to the living room behind me.

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Soft light filtered in through the curtains, casting a dull gray across the floor. I was already dressed—jeans, boots, a hoodie zipped to my collarbone. My long brown hair was tied back, neat and simple.

I moved quietly, careful not to let the floorboards creak as I grabbed my phone and keys, slipping them into my pockets without a sound.

As I passed my floor length mirror I stopped and looked at a framed picture hanging next to it. A picture that had been there for years—me and Cora, arms looped around each other, summer sun in our hair. She had that ridiculous pink streak that year, and I had braces. We looked like idiots. Happy idiots.

I reached out and touched the edge of the frame.

She died screaming. And he just left.

No funeral. No goodbye. Derek Hale had vanished like smoke, and I’d spent six years pretending that it didn’t gut me.

And now he was back.

I shook the thoughts off and turned toward the door. The others in the house were still asleep. Stiles was probably snoring, limbs tangled in his blankets. Dad wouldn’t be far behind, maybe passed out in the chair, still in uniform. I paused at the front door and listened. Nothing but the quiet hum of the fridge. Then I slipped outside.

The morning air was sharp, damp. Dew clung to the grass and the wind carried that chill that made it feel earlier than it was. I kept my head down as I walked to the Jeep, climbed in, and started the engine.

No radio. No music. Just silence and the crunch of gravel beneath the tires as I pulled away from the curb.

The deeper into the woods I drove, the darker it felt. The forest here was older, thicker—like the trees remembered what happened.

I hadn’t been back since the fire. Since Cora.

The roads were more memory than map. Twists and turns I hadn’t thought about in years came back to me like they’d never left. My stomach tightened the closer I got.

I told myself I wouldn’t do this.

That Derek wasn’t worth it.

But seeing him—really seeing him, alive, standing in the woods like a ghost made flesh—had cracked something open in me. Something I’d spent years keeping buried.

Memories I wasn’t ready to relive surged back anyway: the smell of smoke, the unbearable heat, the way Cora had screamed his name. Begging him to come back. Begging him not to leave.

But he did.

And now, six years later, he was suddenly here again. Whispering to my brother. Watching from the trees. Like no time had passed at all.

I gripped the wheel tighter. My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it.

I didn’t know what I wanted from him. Answers, maybe. Or just to look him in the eye and remember what it felt like to care.

I pulled off the dirt road and onto the familiar gravel, stopping at the edge of the clearing. The house stood blackened and collapsed in on itself. Stone and ash. Time hadn’t healed a damn thing.

I cut the engine and stepped out.

The air was thick, still. Birds chirped in the distance, but around the house it was eerily quiet. I walked forward, my boots sinking into the damp ground, the weight of memory pressing on my chest.

It looked just like it had in my nightmares—ruined walls, half-fallen beams, the skeleton of what used to be a home. Vines climbed up where windows used to be. The smell of burnt wood still lingered faintly, clinging to the charred frame.

And there—fresh footprints in the dirt. Big. Recent.

He’d been here. Maybe still was.

Of course he came back. This place wasn’t just ruins to him—it was a graveyard.

I stepped onto what was left of the porch. The wood groaned beneath me.

You don’t get to just show up like nothing happened, Derek.

You left. You disappeared. And now you’re back and talking to my brother like none of us ever mattered.

I stood at the edge of the doorway, staring into the hollow space where the front room used to be. My chest ached. My throat tightened.

Then I took a breath. And I stepped inside.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The floor creaked beneath my boots as I stepped deeper into the skeleton of the house. Ash and damp earth clung to the air, and the faint scent of something animal—wolf, maybe—lingered just beneath the rot of time.

“Derek?” I called out, my voice cutting through the silence.

No answer.

Just wind slinking through broken beams and the distant rustle of trees.

I moved past what used to be the living room. I remembered the furniture—how the couch had sat crooked because one leg was shorter than the others, how Cora had always complained about it. I remembered the warmth, the laughter. The life that once existed here.

“Derek, I know you’re here,” I said louder. “I saw the footprints. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Still nothing.

I stopped in the center of the ruined space, where the ceiling had caved in. Bits of glass and debris crunched beneath my feet.

“Are you really gonna keep hiding from me?” I shouted now, my voice shaking. “After six years?”

A sound behind me. Barely a whisper. I turned.

And there he was.

Derek Hale. Standing in the shadows between two scorched beams, arms crossed, face half-shrouded in darkness. Taller than I remembered. Harder. Sharper around the edges.

Not a ghost. Not a memory.

Real.

Alive.

I stared at him. For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

“You’ve got some nerve coming back here,” I said, every word thick with the anger I’d buried for too long.

“I didn’t come back for you,” he said, voice low, rough like gravel. Like it had forgotten how to be gentle.

That stung more than I wanted to admit. I took a step forward.

“No,” I spat, “you never come back for anyone, do you? Not even when your sister was burning alive inside this house.”

His jaw twitched, but he said nothing.

“And I waited. I waited, Derek. I waited for answers. For you to come back and say anything that made it make sense.”

Still silence.

“You didn’t even come back when the Sheriff found Laura’s body,” I said, biting down on the lump in my throat. “He had to ID her by the tattoo on her ankle. Did you know that? Did you know my dad had to see what was left of her?”

His gaze broke from mine.

“And now here you are. Like it’s just another day in Beacon Hills.”

“I came back because of Laura,” he said. Quiet. Heavy. “I came back because someone murdered her and left her in pieces. I came back to find out who did it.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the way his voice cracked—just barely—but it was there.

“And what? You were gonna just... sneak around? Talk to Scott McCall in the woods? Pretend you weren’t part of any of this?”

“I didn’t think I owed you anything,” he said sharply.

My heart dropped.

“Really?” I asked. “You didn’t think you owed me anything? After what happened to Cora? After I watched her burn and all you did was throw me over your shoulder and carry me home like a little kid?”

His eyes flicked to me again, and this time, there was something raw there. Guilt. Pain. Something he didn’t have words for.

“I was a mess,” he said, voice low. “I didn’t know what to say to anyone. Especially not you.”

“So you chose to leave.” I shook my head. “Coward.”

He flinched, and I hated that I still cared enough to feel bad about it.

“Cora was my best friend,” I said, my voice quieter now. “She was my family. And you didn’t even try to get her out of there.”

He stepped forward once. Just a foot. Barely more than a breath.

“I did what I had to do,” he said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I laughed—short and humorless. “God, you’re still such a coward.”

His expression hardened. “You think this was easy for me?”

“No,” I snapped. “I think it broke you. I know it did. But you let it break everyone else too. Me. Stiles. My dad. And now you’re back and sniffing around like nothing happened.”

Silence. The house around us creaked like it remembered everything too.

Finally, he looked away. “I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

“But you did,” I whispered. “You already did.”

I turned before he could say anything else, storming toward the open frame of the door. My heart was hammering, and the tears I had been holding back finally blurred my vision.

And then I heard him.

Soft. Almost too soft to catch.

“I’m sorry.”

I stood there for a second, his apology hanging in the air between us like smoke—barely there, and already fading.

But I didn’t turn around.

I couldn’t.

Because if I looked back, I wasn’t sure what I’d see. The boy I used to know? The ghost of someone I’d mourned? Or just a stranger wearing his face.

So I stepped outside.

The morning light had shifted, casting long golden beams across the forest floor, but it felt cold. Harsher somehow.

Behind me, the Hale house remained—cracked and broken, just like the people it left behind.

I walked to my car without looking back, got in, and closed the door. My hands trembled against the steering wheel.

And only once I was halfway down the road did I let myself cry.

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chapter III: https://www.tumblr.com/isabellabrodar/780905700205461504/in-broad-daylight-teen-wolf-chapter-iii?source=share

omg i am really feeling the creative flow right now so here is chapter two. a bit angsty. I hope you like it!

[katyspersonal]

Why Bloodborne is like thiiiiis (creativity notes, don't mind me)

I do like how cosmos/arcane in Bloodborne have different colors, too? There are:

turquoise/cyan - Ludwig's moonlight sword and Guidance Rune, Small Resonant Bell + the mist from which summoned cooperators appear, mist around Gehrman after he turns to the Moon

'pale' blue - magic of cosmic Kin like Brainsuckers, mist around scythes of Church Servants (at 15+ Insight), Milkweed Rune, mist Gehrman and Micolash disappear into when hit, haze inside skull of Laurence before we saw his memory for some reason...

a more saturated blue - magic of Celestial Emissaries, Eye Rune, that weird spiral trap in Isz dungeons, Rom's meteorites, eyes of the scourge beasts in Choir's base, Call Beyond charging, Choir Bell, Fluorescent Flower's magic

purple - Messengers' lamps, magic of Nightmare Executioners (behind their helmet and from their axes), portal from Lecture Hall into Nightmare realm, lanterns Church Servants are carrying, skulls of Fish people (mages) + accursed brew, glowing eyes of enemies that got hunter's Blood Echoes, Wet Nurse's magic

deep red - trickled state of Logarius' Wheel, his whole magic actually, skulls of Executioner's glove, Maria's Quickening mist (after stabbing herself), mist around Brador when he invades + Sinister Resonant Bell, cursed effect that Cain servants can give the player

What I can reliably gather from this, is that the color of Moon's power and guidance given to the hunters IS cyan, and I've been misremembering Gehrman's mist as pale blue when it is p much like Ludwig's guidance, yes. And that from colors meanings standpoint placement of Purple works very well! It feels like a combination of 'curses' and blood + 'cosmic' arcane. Red + blue = purple. Especially I'd say seen from Fish people, who are using the same cursed Pthumerian magic represented by skulls, yet were... touched by arcane blessing QUITE a lot, ok? And Fishing Hamlet priest will even give us Accursed Brew as a reaction TO Milkweed equipped. But also, the fact that Dreaming is both bloodshed and magic, and it's mechanics are tied with purple (lamps and recovering Blood Echoes from enemies)...

Blue hues also broadly overlap, it seems. The only truly visible difference is color of Eye vs color of Milkweed. I'd say the colder and paler blue is closer to 'marine' arcane, and is more 'primal', whereas more saturated blue is closer to the 'stars' and more 'perfected'. However, 'pale' blue also has its merit connected with the dream and the hunt, of course!

______________

I started to try to put all this together all because I was unsure of what to color-code Laurence on earlier stages, when Arcane was more prevalent in Healing Church, as opposed to his later corruption when he delved stronger into blood and left the nerds (Choir and Mensis) to do their thing... I suggested purple, but then hesitated because it'd fit Micolash too because of Nightmare connotations, but then @val-of-the-north said:

Purple is blue and red, arcane and blood Both Laurence's pursuits I think it still fits him quite well He was a man of both, but all who came after him chose one or the other

And yeah, I think this actually works really well! (Though it is yet ANOTHER time Laurence and Micolash are both perfect to share a concept... They are just doomed to be rivals, hahaha) I am already thinking about how to elaborate purple into his design! Mostly I just broke my mind over this because I struggled with what color to make Laurence's ribbon, since I didn't want to make it blue (that's for Willem and Choir, which doesn't go with my headcanons on timeline and Laurence). But also it would be too "early" for red, nor my Laurence WEARS a ribbon in his 'third stage' to begin with.. Other variants are to use cyan patterns, like Ludwig's guidance, or try more golden (so, golden ribbon). But I think purple is just really good! Because the connection Val made about how it color-codes both of Laurence's gimmics at once is great.

P.S. Oh boy... So, Ludwig - cyan, Gehrman - blue, Laurence - purple and Maria - red. 🌈🌈

P.P.S. Nightmare Executioners (the mobs), however, wear cages on their heads (not dissimilar to those of Yahar'gul Hunters), and also protrude tentacles from their faces... That makes me think of Micolash again. Not sure whether they were result of Micolash's experiments, OR Micolash took the inspiration since School of Mensis IS a faction of the Church after all.

[corpseglider]

pairing .. corpse x girlfriend!reader (fem)

summary .. the time in which corpse really does propose

part one .. read here

the first sign.

“Now why exactly did you want to go to the farmer’s market?” You asked, eyebrows raised at your boyfriend’s beaming face. 

Corpse ran to the rose bushes, daisies, and baby’s breath—looking through each and every vendor’s selection. His eyes were sparkling with excitement at the sight of the various colors, his body shaking profusely.

You followed behind at a distance, giving Corpse the freedom to explore on his own. The market was overflowing with life. That life not necessarily being human life, but fresh plants and fruit.

Your pockets were drained quickly, all of the hard cash on you had disappeared into the hands of the kind vendors. Bags of homemade goods filled your arms, nearly falling over from how unbalanced you’d become.

“Oh, shit.” Corpse said, running up to you and taking a few packages into his own hands, giving you a little breath of relief. “You seem to be right at home here!”

He chuckled, his heart glowing in your company. The overall aura you gave off brought his life immense joy. You were the light in his darkness, the stability to his chaos.

The two of you now walked together, strolling between vendors and awing at the vast array of flowers. It was a peaceful moment, just the two of you together in a place that made you happy.

“Oh these are just beautiful!” You exclaimed, your eyes settling on a bouquet of small lilac alliums. The little blossoms were undeniably gorgeous, standing out amongst the others like stars in the vast night sky.

The little bouquet fit perfectly in your hands, complimenting your features nicely. Corpse took a mental picture in his brain, wanting to remember this moment showcasing the natural beauty that you possessed forever.

He studied the flowers, noticing the little petals and yellow bobs along with your beaming face. Without hesitation, Corpse pulled out his wallet, giving the vendor whatever price they were asking for.

“You’re the best, you know that right?” You pressed a soft kiss to Corpse’s cheek, loving how your boyfriend spoiled you. Gratitude was evident in your voice, the tone soft and thankful. “I love them.”

Corpse wrapped his arm around shoulder, hugging you to his side as you made your way towards your car. He kissed the top of your head gently before whispering in your ear.

“I love you.”

the second sign.

The house was silent, Corpse’s footsteps echoing slightly as he quietly shut the door to his gaming room. It was around four in the morning, he’d just finished a live stream, having stayed up all night to do so.

Exhaustion was all that was on his mind. He was itching to crawl into bed beside you and refill his energy. Just the thought of holding you in his arms was more meaningful than any dream he could possibly have.

Corpse tiptoed down the hallway, cringing as his phone began to ring. He frantically reached into his pockets, attempting to decline the call before realizing that it was Sean who’d been dialing him.

“Hey man.” He spoke in a low tone, doing his best to make as little noise as possible. It’d been a long week for you, and he didn’t want to disturb your sleep. “What’s up?”

Sean responded energetically, the time zone difference being evident between the two men’s attitudes. “Just calling to say what an amazing stream that was!” He exclaimed, his accent strong. “You really tricked us tonight!”

Corpse laughed, running a hand through his already unruly hair. “Yeah that was all luck.” He admitted, having no strategic meaning in any of his moves. “My lucky charm is home right now, that’s probably why I won.”

He could envision Sean nodding to his words, his friends being fully aware of how close his relationship with you was. “Y/N, yeah.” Sean answered, a little bit of a smirk on his voice. “How’re you guys doing?”

A smile rose on Corpse’s face, just the thought of you brought out his soft side. “We’re doing really really well, man.” Your boyfriend said, walking into your shared bedroom. “Thanks for asking.”

Sean sighed, most likely sitting back in his chair to get in a more comfortable position. “Of course, you guys seem really happy.” He paused for a moment, considering what he was going to say next.

“I was tagged under that comment you made on Instagram.” Corpse stopped breathing at his words, knowing exactly what he was referring to—but Sean continued on. “Was there any truth in that?”

The call was vacant, neither man speaking on the other’s behalf. Corpse took a deep breath, gazing at the girl who was fast asleep in their bed. “Definitely.” He breathed out, processing his words as he spoke.

“She makes me so happy, man. I just love her so much.” His voice was even quieter than before, Sean barely being able to comprehend what he was saying. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sean’s grin was so large it could be heard on the phone. He was so happy to hear that his close friend had found someone so perfect for him. “I think you know exactly what to do.”

With that, they bid their goodbyes, promising to talk again in a few hours. Corpse slipped into bed, finally realizing the steps he had to take in order to end up with the outcome you and him deserved. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple, wrapping his arms around you and closing his eyes. As sleep took over his senses, your’s were wide awake. Your face was flushed red, tears brimming your eyes.

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the sound of Corpse openly talking about his love for you was too much to ignore. It was one thing to know that there was someone there for you—but to have him speak so highly about you to others?

That was love.

the third and final sign.

Corpse had been bouncing off the walls all day, his body overflowing with nerves. He’d been doing his best to act inconspicuous for the entire day, wanting to surprise you with his notion of a proposal.

The weight of the ring box felt like tons in his pocket, weighing him down as he walked with you towards the view point. His heart was racing unevenly, thumping in his chest like a metronome.

Constellations sparkled above you, the sky filled with stars and little specks of dust. It was a moment under the perfect view with the perfect man. Your perfect man.

You stood beside him, holding his hand in yours as you pointed out all of the constellations that you knew by memory. Corpse was silent, humming along to your words and listening intently.

Before you knew it, you felt his grip loosen, your arm dropping completely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wondering why he would leave you absent of his touch.

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned, facing him underneath the light of the moon. Corpse was down on one knee, holding up nothing but the ring box that had formerly been stashed in his pocket.

He pursed his lips into a smile, opening the box to you. “It’s no ring made of fresh flowers,” he admitted, watching your facial expressions like a hawk, “but I hope it’ll do.”

Your eyes settled on the ring, noticing the beautiful and intricate design. The band resembled stems, wrapping around like vines—while the jewel itself looked as if it was blooming out of a flower.

That flower being identical to the flowers he had bought you at the market, weeks before. 

Tears were now tripping down your face, your hands on his shoulders as you nodded enthusiastically, accepting his proposal with all of your heart. “Of course it’ll do!” You grabbed his cheeks, kissing him over and over again.

“You are perfect for me.” You rested your forehead against his, shivering as he slipped the ring onto your finger. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Corpse laughed, thanking everything for the fact that he was lucky enough to have someone such as yourself in his life. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[hercleverboy]

yours

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ based off of the prompt “I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ none

word count ↠ 2.9k

“If someone makes you feel, let them.” — Reyna Biddy

Spencer could never very well doubt just how much she loved him. 

She told him every day, not always with words but he could hear them clearly in how she touched him. Feather-light fingertips tracing along his delicate skin, perfectly pursed lips pressing affectionate kisses to the scars littered on his arms and chest. 

He heard the words in how she cared for him, in a way that he’d never felt cared for before. Her hand would squeeze his three times when she could see him getting anxious in a social setting, three small squeezes that screamed the words ‘I love you’, ‘you’re safe here,’ ‘I’ve got you.’

But despite everything, nothing seemed to be a match for Spencer’s own insecurities. Insecurities he thought he’d buried deep down, hidden away for so long he could almost kid himself into thinking they’d simply disappeared. 

Combine those insecurities with the green-eyed monster that had attached itself to Spencer’s back, and you’re left with an ugly amalgamation of self-hatred and jealousy. As if he hadn’t felt insecure enough over the prior weeks, it didn’t help that he had to watch some guy flirt with his girlfriend once the night ended. 

The BAU had been dragged along to a charity event that the Bureau was holding. The whole idea was to keep up the FBI’s good reputation, and an appearance from their elite profiler team would certainly look good for them. So, with the news that they were each allowed a plus one, Spencer had asked his girlfriend to accompany him. 

Y/N had been ecstatic when he’d asked, grinning about how this was the perfect excuse for her to shop for a suitable dress in the adorable boutique that had opened in town. Despite how he’d been feeling, he found himself smiling without force. No matter how he felt, she always managed to make him feel better. They’d been together for just over a year and he was yet to grow tired of her optimistic outlook on life. She really was a ray of light that shone through the darkness of his life, a shadow that came so close to swallowing him whole before she held him tight and pulled him out.

As the days before the event dragged on, Spencer found the intrusive and self-conscious thoughts were only growing, his brain trying so desperately to convince him that Y/N was merely with him out of convenience. She was simply tolerating him until she could find someone better. The rational part of him argued that the was definitely not the case, but when has anyone ever been rational when it comes to love? 

These insecurities were unfortunately not new for Spencer. They’d been there since the beginning of the relationship, and he lived in fear that his relationship would fall victim to the BAU’s curse. With the exception of JJ and Will, all of the BAU’s relationships eventually crumbled under the pressure of the job that never stopped, never slowed down. There were always forgotten anniversaries and missed birthdays, late nights and early mornings and interruptions at times when Spencer wanted nothing more than a moment alone with the woman he loved. 

It was exhausting, really. But they made it work.

And Spencer cherished every moment they had together as though it was their last. As though she would wake up the next morning and decide she didn’t want him anymore, that the job was too much, that she couldn’t keep watching him leave without knowing if he’d ever come home. 

Y/N had noticed the slight shift in how Spencer acted around her. She was no expert profiler, but Spencer wasn’t exactly as subtle as he thought he was with his actions. When she asked about a case, he wouldn’t confide in her like he used to. He was never impolite, ever the gentleman, but simply shut her down with a kind smile before moving on to talk about a different topic. 

He still held her close to his chest at night, arms wrapped around her. Though she noticed how he’d tightened his once loose grip on her, caging her in his arms. It made her heart ache a little when she felt him hold onto her as though he was afraid to lose her, as though she was going to leave. Although she wanted to, Y/N didn’t comment on this change in behaviour. She allowed him to hold her as tightly as he pleased, hoping it brought him any sense of comfort or reassurance he might need. 

One night when she was deep in sleep, her head on his chest, Spencer stared up at the ceiling with his hands holding her as close to him as she could get. He listened to the sound of her gentle breaths that somewhat soothed him, until the invasive thoughts started up again. He blinked away the tears that burned his eyes as he thought about how she deserved so much better than what he could give her, how he was selfish. Against his better judgement, he refused to push her away. If the dreadful day came when she decided she didn’t want him anymore, he would let her go. But until then, he was desperate to cling to her for as long as he could. 

He didn’t register the tears slipping from his eyes until the girl on his chest shuffled. He was quick to wipe his tears, watching as her own eyes fluttered open, staring up at him in confusion.

“Baby? What’re you doing awake, what time is it?” She groaned quietly, her eyes landing on the clock across the room. 3:47am.

When Spencer didn’t answer, she blinked to adjust to the darkness of the room, shifting to sit up slightly so she could meet his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

He gave a small smile at that. She was evidently still so tired but was forcing herself to stay awake so she could check he was okay.

Her compassion was one of the many reasons he loved her so. 

He shook his head. “I’m okay, I promise.”

She titled her head the side, her eyes searching his for any hints of how he was really feeling. She came up empty. She wasn’t a profiler, after all.

She reached her hand up to cup his cheek, and he gave the most adorable little grin, turning his head to place a kiss on her palm.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” She whispered, the sincerity in her tone making the tears in his eyes well quicker.

He just nodded with a sniff, unsure how to respond. Of course, he knew he could tell her anything and she wouldn’t judge him. But his insecurities felt like a bother, and he wouldn’t want to burden her with such petty concerns. 

Y/N was still unsure, though she accepted his answer, giving him a small smile before returning to her sleeping position, her head on his chest. She had to have faith that he would confide in her when he was ready. 

 This time, he had one arm wrapped around her, his other hand intertwined his fingers with hers, bringing him even more comfort. He pressed his lips to her forehead, whispering a small ‘I love you’ against her skin before finally allowing sleep to take him.

The event was on a Saturday evening, and Spencer had found himself throughout the week secretly wishing they’d be called away for a case; but no such call came. Funny, he thought, the one time it’d be great to get whisked away for work, serial killers seem to have taken the week off? He wasn’t really looking forward to it at all but knowing he’d have Y/N on his arm all night made him feel slightly more at ease. 

When the clock hit 6pm Spencer called out to her, his voice bouncing off the walls of the apartment. 

“You ready?”

Spencer had familiarised himself with Y/N’s outstanding beauty over the years, even before they were together and he’d found himself pining over her, watching how she moved and how she acted and falling in love just a little more each day. He recalled the words of poet Robert Burns, ‘But to see her was to love her, Love but her and love forever.’ He noted how extremely fitting they seemed. When she stepped out of the bedroom, shoving her belongings into her clutch, and flashing a grin at her boyfriend, he was reminded how she was just so effortlessly enamouring that even his eidetic memory wasn’t enough to perfectly capture her allure. 

What a privilege it was to love her. 

“You look-” His words caught in his throat, trying to find ones that could even begin to convey his thoughts. There simply weren’t words. He knew a thousand different ones, but none that were adequate enough to describe the woman before him. 

“You are so beautiful.”

Is what he settled for, and it still seemed to fall short but when her lips turned up in a bright grin, he knew she was grateful for the compliment.

“Thank you. Are you ready to go?” She asked and he swallowed nervously before he nodded, offering him her arm as they walked out of the apartment.

*

He watched from their seats as Y/N stood by the drinks table with JJ and Garcia, deep in conversation. She’d been dragged from his side to have what Garcia called a ‘girly catch-up’, and hence he was left at the teams designated table with Morgan. Morgan was talking about a topic Spencer hadn’t much interest in, and though he had initially attempted to listen, that had been thrown out the window as his gaze drifted to Y/N once again. 

“Kid? Hey, you listening?” Morgan asked, waving a hand in front of Spencer’s face to get his attention. 

Spencer’s gaze snapped away from Y/N, focusing back on his friend. “Sorry, what was that?” 

Morgan shook his head with a laugh, nodding his head in Y/N’s direction. “I’ll bet you’d much rather be at home with your lady, huh?” 

Spencer followed Morgan’s line of sight, finding Y/N across the room again. He watched in silent awe as she threw her head back in laughter at something Garcia said before taking a sip of her wine. 

“Yeah. It’s just- we’re away so much with work. I would’ve liked to have taken her out this evening or something. I don’t ever want her to forget how much she means to me.” Spencer blurted out in a moment of honesty, something that Morgan had always managed to get out of him. 

Morgan nodded in understanding. “You know you never have to worry about that with Y/N. You, my friend, are the definition of whipped.” He grinned, reaching out and placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. 

Spencer frowned at the comment. “Whipped?” 

“It just means you’d do anything for her. Anything she wanted, anything she asked for. Anything to make her happy.” Morgan explained. 

Spencer nodded in understanding, put his frown remained. “Is that a bad thing?”

Morgan smiled, shaking his head. “Not at all. It’s nice seeing you so happy. She’s good for you, you know.”

Spencer glanced back over to her and caught her eye. She was mid conversation, but still flashed a smile to him.

He gave a small grin back before responding to Morgan. “Yeah, she is. Too good.”

*

As the evening came to a close, Spencer watched as Y/N said goodbye to everyone. He didn’t miss how one of the guys from Sex Crimes placed his hands far too low on her waist as she hugged him goodbye. How this guy seemed reluctant to let Y/N go even after she’d pulled back from the friendly hug. It made Spencer’s heart ache, watching this guy’s eyes glisten as Y/N spoke, looking at her in a way that was reserved for only Spencer. 

That green-eyed monster reattached itself to Spencer, his brain flooding with the self-depreciative thoughts that had plagued his mind for weeks at that point. It was getting too much for him to handle. 

He’d never been more relieved than when the taxi dropped them off outside their apartment, their home. 

Y/N had noticed her boyfriend’s silence on the journey home. It was even more confusing because he still held her hand tightly in his own, intertwined and resting on the middle seat between them. Spencer faced looking out the window, not paying much attention to Y/N, and she’d think he was ignoring her if it wasn’t for his vice-like grip on her hand. 

She figured he’d speak when they were back in their home, an environment he was the most comfortable in. Though he remained silent. When they stepped over the threshold of the apartment, he raised their joined hands to his lips and placed a faint kiss on the back of hers, before dropping her hand and quietly heading for the bedroom. Y/N stood in the hallway, hand dangling by her side as she pondered over what could be wrong. 

She waited to approach the topic until they were getting ready to sleep. Y/N had just finished washing her face and brushing her teeth in the bathroom, flicking off the light and making her way back to the bed. Spencer, who had still not said a word, was staring at a page of his book. She could tell he wasn’t reading, as he hadn’t flipped a page in a few minutes. She climbed in next to him, sitting up against the headboard as she looked over at him. 

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, his eyes trained on the hundreds of words on the pages before him. 

She cleared her throat, her voice small. “You gotta talk to me. I need you to tell me what’s got you so worried. If it’s something I did then-“

“Why are you with me?”

Y/N blinked in shock. Those were the first words he’d spoken to her in hours, and she had no idea where they’d come from or how to respond to them. 

“What?”

“Why did you choose me? I mean, y-you could’ve had anyone you wanted, and you chose me?” His tone of voice was pained, and Y/N could tell that these words were the sum of self-doubt and malicious thoughts. 

Her eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t understand.”

“I just don’t get why you’d want me. I’m weird, I don’t always pick up on social cues and I don’t understand pop culture references and there are just so many other people you would probably be better suited to and- and you want me?” His eyes flicked up to meet hers and only then did she see the tears that brimmed in them. 

Y/N took a moment to mull over the words, realising that what she chose to respond with would be incredibly important to Spencer. She gave a small sigh and smiled slightly, reaching over to grasp his hands in hers. 

“You always go out of your way to bring me a blueberry muffin in the morning, even though my favourite bakery is the next town over. You give up your favourite cardigans because you know how much I love to wear them. You watched the whole of Stranger Things just because I spoke about it so much and you wanted to be able to talk about it with me. Despite how much you hate the logical inconsistencies.” She chuckled and he gave her a smile too, looking down at their joined hands. “When I go on and on about how the eleventh Doctor is my favourite you agree despite how I know for a fact that your favourite is the fifth. You always know when I’m upset without me even having to say a word. You dance with me on rainy days and read to me when I can’t sleep, and I am so in love with you.” She whimpered out the last bit with a smile, and his head shot up, eyes meeting hers. “You do not ever need to worry about whether you or not you ‘deserve’ me.” 

He nodded, but she could see he was still not entirely convinced.

So, she tried one more thing, something she was sure would get through to him. 

“Who was it that said, ‘We accept the love we think we deserve.’?” She asked, and he knew she knew the answer but still gave her the response she was looking for. 

“Stephen Chbosky.” 

She hummed in agreement, releasing one of his hands so she could cup his cheek, wiping away trembling tears with her thumb. “You deserve everything good in life, Spencer. You deserve to be loved.” 

He nodded again, having been convinced. 

For the first time in weeks, Spencer felt the weight of that green-eyed monster leave his shoulders. His constantly overworking brain seemed to grant him a single moment of clarity, enough for him to force away the thoughts that had hounded him for too long. He knew they may never really go away, but Y/N’s affections were certainly enough to quieten them down. 

“Okay.” He murmured, still smiling as his cheeks flushed.

She chuckled quietly, using her other hand to brush back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes in a tender move. “You’re my everything, the love of my life. Please don’t forget that.”

Spencer nodded, leaning forward. His arms enveloped around her, pulling her close to his chest in a tight hug.

“I’m yours.” He whispered. “I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

She smiled and spoke the words as though they were the simplest thing in the world. 

“I’ll always want you.”

taglist: - @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor

[sirensmojo]

"Crossroads" - Michael Gray x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff.

Summary: You visit Michael in the hospital for the first time in years after his departure from your village.

*Masterlist*

A/N: this is my first Michael Gray fic, plz take that into consideration...

“There’s a girl asking to see you, Sir.” The nurse informed Michael, “Do you accept the visit?”

“Who is it?” His eyes lifted up from the white bedsheet he was staring at, blankly.

“A certain Y/N.”

At the announcement of your name, his dull eyes lightened up, but it didn’t last. His mind suddenly got clouded with the hundreds of questions he usually was asking himself when alone.

Were you alright? Did you get out of town as you promised each other, were you still visiting his “mother” on Wednesday's afternoons, were you angry at him for leaving you?

“Yeah, let her in.” His answer was full of apprehension, making the nurse unsure of letting you in. She stayed there watching as the man shifted position, trying to get comfortable as he knew your reunion wouldn’t be easy. “I said let her in,” Michael squinted his eyes at the nurse seeing she was still there, and that’s when she got out.

He exhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself but he couldn’t escape the tremendous flow of emotions washing over him.

You were his first love, the first girl he ever saw as a woman, even if you were still quite young. He just couldn't ignore the way he felt when he used to be with you, even after all this time, even after going out with other girls, your face never left him.

“Michael.” You hesitantly entered, unsure of the fact coming in here was a good idea.

You were in town for quite long now, but never took the time to search for him. Not because you didn't care, it was the opposite.

He had never kept from you his wish to leave your little village and you thought that maybe having you in his life now wouldn't bring him anything but memories of a place he wanted to forget.

But as the time passed, you realized you couldn't get him out your mind, no matter how hard you tried. No matter what you did, it all came back to him in the end.

His smile, laugh, touch and love, you missed everything.

You knew very well the Peaky Blinders, just like every Birmingham residents, and you knew he was one of them.

You used to tease him back then about him leaving the village after burning it or something, and here you were, him being part of a gang. This couldn't fit your Michael best.

He was a very intelligent, talented, kind and good person, but you always knew that deep down, this tranquillity was hiding a darker side, a deeper meaning of who he was.

It wasn't a surprise at all for you when you heard about his new life, you were even quite happy that he could express himself and evolve in a favourable environment.

He seemed preoccupied with something but his eyebrows unknitted at the sight of your face.

Your finger waved curls were perfectly falling on each side of your head, and Michael’s eyes were falling over your olive designed dress, tassels falling right under your knees.

He always loved this green on you, and that only hit you now.

The aggressively sexy green dress you told him you would, one day, wear in the streets so everybody could be shocked and talk about how a woman should dress.

If you remembered this detail this morning you wouldn’t have come in this dress. Now, Michael was looking at you with those gleaming eyes and you knew that when his eyes will lift up to yours, you’ll find in them the same sparks behind his iris as when you were younger.

Maybe coming in here truly was a bad idea.

“Y/N,” he kept a stern face but you were reading him like a book. His hands were clammy, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tensed along with all his muscles.

You could see he was as nervous as you, and you also knew that if you could read him that easily he probably could do the same with you.

Michael was sitting on his bed straight like an “I”, and that’s only when you sat at his side that he leaned backwards on his pillows.

That idea of knowing each other despite time and distance was what helped you to breathe out the air you didn't realize you were holding, leaving your chest less heavy.

You didn’t dare to stay in his eyes, too occupied searching for your cigarettes anyway. You got one out of their case and handed it to the man that was shamelessly staring at you.

“You changed.” Were his first words, and you couldn’t blame him.

Michael grabbed the cigarette and stuck it in between his fine lips before you came lightening up the tip of it for him.

When he left you were still growing up, rough look and only wearing the elegant blue pants your mother accepted you to wear. You were obsessed with pants and used to always argue about the fact women couldn’t wear them.

“Not a bit, and you haven’t either.” You teased him. It was obvious he changed, even the way he was talking was different, and you couldn’t even imagine what else in him had changed if the external changes were that evident.

His eyes drifted to you once again, what a surprise it was for him to see you dressed up as you were with your high heels.

Men have looked at you before, but the way Michael laid eyes on you was different, you found fondness in it, perhaps love? Because after all, there was still love between you, right?

Else his chest wouldn't raise that quickly and he wouldn't flutter his eyes when you would catch him staring at you.

He chuckled and offered you a warm smile before puffing on his cig. He got lost in thoughts for a moment, doing the french inhale.

Nevertheless, Michael seemed so much more distant than what you remember. Either he was staring, either he was blanking looking into the void.

He never talked too much either, but presently his silence could kill you. You just wanted to feel his hands all over you again, but you couldn't jump on him as if your story happened yesterday.

The atmosphere tensed, “I knew you would start smoking.” You let out in a huff. “Mrs Johnson was so wrong about you, it wasn’t me corrupting you, you always had it in your blood.” You concluded, the words escaping from your mouth as you were failing to stop them.

You got a cig for yourself and Michael watched you carefully, following each of your movements as if you were to disappear in a cloud of smoke if he’d just blinked.

“No,” He clenched his jaw and shook his head as his eyes darkened, "I found it here."

"Find you?"

He nodded slightly as puffing on his cig. 'You don't ask why I'm here?" He raised a brow towards you.

"I read the news, you're a peaky boy now." You winked at him.

"It's not what you think, Y/N." He was chuckling, shaking his head to both sides.

"Well, my Micheal wearing suits and being part of a dirty business, that's what I think and that's what it is. And that's sexy." You were so concentrated imagining him in his suit you didn't realize you called him yours, but Gray noticed it, which led to his lips stretching into a smile.

"I knew you were about to tell it." He flicks his fingers, looking at you with squinting eyes.

You took advantage of that exchange to look at his face, examining each of his features and internalizing everything you missed during these years apart.

"You're sexy Michael, deal with it already." You stated outright.

You always liked that about him. He wasn’t talking much, not with his words at least, but his eyes bore enough emotions by themselves. If they could talk they would spill hundreds of words on the paper with no difficulty.

"Yeah? Well, I prefer when you tell that in other circumstances."

His words echoed in your head and you didn't know if he was making a sexual reference or if he just woke up the horny you.

You tilted your head to the side a second, puffing on your cig before the tip of your fingers instantly reached for his soft skin. You were rubbing the side of his face gently with your knuckles when you remembered something.

“I left the village over a year after you, my mother died and I just couldn’t stay there, you know.” Talking was your way of coping with the fact you were reunited with your teenage love.

“I’m sorry.” His facial expression changed, he now understood why you were here. Not that he was unhappy about your visit, but he wouldn't have thought you’d ever leave this village.

“Everything I know is there” was the answer you gave him every time he encouraged you to go to the cities to try to make a living out of clothing. London, Birmingham, whatever, as long as you would be able to be who you wanted to be, and live your passion fully.

You wanted to make clothes and Michael had always been your number one fan, solely because he was the only one to see the gorgeous dresses you were sewing, but still your number one fan.

“I’m currently working to be able to own my workshop. So everything’s fine.”

He peeked at your lips while you were doing the french inhale, but ended up staring at your lips as if they were mesmerizing him.

You ignored that as well as you ignored all the signs he still felt things for you since you came into his room.

“Michael, the reason for my visit is family. I Know you found your biological mother and all, but you got another family out there, right?” You got up and joined the table to crush your cigarette into the ashtray, a vain attempt to prepare you for what you were about to announce. “Mr Johnson’s gone... I heard he died in his own bed.”

You threw him a glance, you wanted to know what he was thinking at this moment because his face was unreadable. Even though you knew him more than he knew himself, you grew apart from each other, and here was standing in front of you, a version of Michael you did not know.

He was blankly looking at the void in front of him, fisted clenched around the sheets.

You got closer to him, putting down the ashtray on the nightstand and sat down at his side again, but this time you slipped one of your hands into his as your other one, slowly turned his head towards you, so you could look at him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered as you were nearing your face to his.

It’s when you felt a little squeeze on your hand that you completely dared to give yourself to him, leaning a slow kiss over his lips.

You then pulled away, but before you could go anywhere, you felt his free hand at the back of your head, pulling you closer for another kiss, this one being feverish.

Of course, he was still loving you. It couldn’t be any different.

His hand shifted from your head to your cheek, his thumb rubbing it softly. His tender fondles contrasted perfectly with the roughness of his kisses. They became needier and needier, as if he waited to do this for a long time.

You both finally let go of the other’s lips when your lungs were screaming for air, your lids directly opening into the other’s eyes.

Here we go again, that twinkling light dancing at the back of his deep blue eyes.

“Something actually changed there,” You caressed his lips with your index, “I didn’t remember your lips tasting this way, neither you being that much of a good kisser.” Your suave voice murmured inches away from him.

You were so close you could feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your lips.

“Well, teach me.” His voice aroused something inside of you, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

PEAKY BLINDERS TAG: @retromafia

(ask me if you want to get in one of the tag lists)

[goggles-mcgee]

Too Late: Tom & Sabine (Commission for miner249er)

This is a sequel to Revolt of the Akuma, also a commission from @miner249er this will be multichaptered! 

Summary: Sequel to Revolt of the Akuma. How Paris and everyone there deals with Marinette’s akumatization and the many things born from it.

Previous Work                                                              Next Chapter

Business was slow but that somehow became the normal for Tom and Sabine, at first they resented it, they truly were busy bodies and they loved to work, needed to work, but then Marinette was akumatized and disappeared. Their baby girl was gone and it felt like there truly was nothing they could do about it. The worst part was they hadn’t even realized she was the akuma at first, they didn’t know things at school had been so bad that Hawkmoth was able to take advantage of their little Baguette’s emotions, and they hadn’t been there to help her through it. Their days seemed routine now, they would wake up at 3 AM instead of their regular 4 AM because of the guilt and the nightmares, they would prep the kitchen then Tom would start on the bread with his father Roland helping out since everything had taken its toll on Tom and he started to become forgetful in things to do with the bakery, even his timing was off. Meanwhile Sabine would attempt to do her morning meditation. The meditation was never successful nowadays because she truly could not clear her mind or calm her heart and memories of Marinette both good and bad would surface and she would be thrown into a fit of sobs that Gina tried her best to help calm. 

Roland learned the hard way that he no longer could hum his and his son’s song while making bread as it had reminded his son too much of Marinette and the larger man would break down in tears if he even heard the slightest bit of the song. He would call out for his daughter while hugging whatever he had in his hands close to his chest. Roland had never been the most affectionate of father’s, he wasn’t even affectionate with his wife, but when he broke down like that, Roland felt the urge to just hold his boy and comfort him. It pained him to see his son in so much pain, but Tom and Sabine were strong people and they picked themselves up in order to get through the day. 

Well, they tried their best and really that’s all anyone expected of the grieving parents. The day Marinette was akumatized and disappeared had been a normal day for them and maybe that’s what filled them with so much guilt. Their bakery was always busy and that was something they took pride in, before Marinette was born, the bakery had been their baby. They made it, helped and watched it grow, and they got to see it flourish. It was a lot of work and sometimes they would just get into this work zone where nothing else could grab their attention. Working with so many ovens and having to prepare so many things, there was only so much you could multitask before your brain felt full. Though those were only excuses, they had been neglecting their daughter and hadn’t realized it. Marinette knew how much they loved their bakery and how busy it could get and she always seemed to understand but now looking back on it maybe she had just pretended to be fine with it all. They tried their best to always ask how her day was when they would all have dinner together, but Tom would be the first to admit that sometimes even that just became routine rather than actual curiosity about their daughter’s day. 

They had deluded themselves into believing that Marinette’s world was rose tinted, and they had taken comfort in the lie. Maybe they truly just wanted to believe that Marinette was their always smiling baby girl and she had no problems to worry about because it would be easier to deal with than the reality. When Marinette had become fascinated with fashion and that fascination grew, Sabine and Tom had been happy and supportive of their daughter, yes their hearts hurt a bit since they had hoped that maybe she would take over the bakery for them, but then they noticed how much time her designing took up. It hurt to think about now but Sabine could remember thinking that it was a blessing that Marinette was distracted and busy because it meant they had more time for the bakery. The more they remembered their shortcomings, the more they felt. They felt too much now after not being able to for so long because of Hawkmoth.

After having to shut down any and all negative emotions, finally being able to express them was like breaking a dam. Crying was never just a little tears, it was always these heart wrenching sobs and it could be for the littlest of things like a broken toy or missing a bus. Anger, now anger was the scariest in everyone's opinion, once someone started yelling it was like they couldn’t stop, they would break things, maybe hoping to see a butterfly, then there was the crying. Everything ended in tears. Anger came quickly nowadays, more so than sadness, though maybe they worked hand in hand now. Tom had found himself more on the depressed side of things, everything made him miss his little Baguette, sometimes he still expected to hear her footsteps racing down from her room and out the door with a shout because she was running late. Sabine on the other hand, everything just made her angry, every little thing. She would even snap at Tom but she would immediately apologize because she knew it wasn’t his fault. If anything she was angry at herself, angry at the school, at Hawkmoth, Hell, even at their bakery.

 Some days she hated waking up to the work and the mingling, there were times where she was so close to just begging her husband to closing the shop for a while and taking a break or maybe closing it permanently. She hadn’t decided yet, but she just told herself to hold on, just hold on till their closing period or ‘vacation time’ as Marinette would say. Perhaps that was the reason why she wasn’t really giving it a serious thought, the whole giving up their boulangerie idea. It held memories, both good and heart-aching, of Marinette. Sabine would never talk about those memories with anyone but family now, but everytime she was working she couldn’t help but look over at their ‘Artisan Boulanger’ sticker at their storefront that was slightly crooked because Tom had been putting it on when Sabine had told him she was pregnant and he had slipped in shock and the sticker was forever a bit crooked. She couldn’t help the way her hands would clench over a box or bag when giving a customer their things, Marinette had designed them and each time she handed them over it felt like she was giving away a little piece of her daughter each time. 

“Have a wonderful day.” Sabine muttered to the latest customer of the day not even caring that her voice came out monotone.

“You as well! Merci Madame.” The young boy who had come in thanked her but Sabine just watched impassively as he hurried over to his friend. “Dude can you believe it? We get to eat pastries that the Protector ate!”

“Correction, we get to eat pastries that Ladybug ate.” His friend responded.

“That hasn’t been proven yet. That’s all just speculation man.” The first boy laughed as they made their way to the door and Sabine had to take in a deep breath or else she might have thrown something. How dare they come into their shop and talk about their daughter as though she wasn’t a person. How dare they treat her akumatization as some spectacle for them to worship and admire. How dare them all.

“Speculation? You are sorely mistaken bro, look at all the evidence! I’ll send you all the links then you’ll see.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Sabine just stared at the young men even after they had left until she no longer could make them out. This. This was why she no longer wanted the bakery, it no longer held the same joy it had when Marinette was there and Sabine and Tom hadn’t even known it until she was gone. 

“Bonjour Madame.” Sabine was ripped from her musings by another customer walking in, a regular in fact, Mlle Josephine Bernard. She had been coming to their boulangerie since they first opened and had always been very kind to Marinette. In fact, she commissioned Marinette a few times as well.

“Bonjour Joséphine." Sabine greeted with a small smile, the most she could manage.

“One rhubarb tart please and a pain de campagne. I’m making stew tonight and my fiance loves when I pair it with your bread.” Joséphine said with a kind smile as she took out her money and change and placed it on the saucer on the counter.

Sabine couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped, Joséphine always had exact change and honestly it was a welcome habit to Sabine. “Are you going to share the tart for dessert? It is small, are you certain you would like just one?”

“Oh no, that’s just for me. Our little secret okay?”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Sabine promised as she swiftly gathered Joséphine’s order, once she made her back to the counter to hand everything to the woman she was caught off guard when said woman placed her hand on top of Sabine’s.

“How are you holding up Sabine?” 

First instincts were yelling at her to lie, to say everything was fine despite everyone knowing it was not, but another part of her was yearning for reassurance that wasn’t from her husband or his parents. “I...I’m trying. But it’s hard. It’s hard when people come in and talk about my daughter as if she’s this thing that is more than human, more than just a teenager. They don’t even say her name anymore. Tom and I have had to move and lock away her things because...because people have broken in and stolen her belongings in order to steal or collect them. The police have been no help on that front. They told us to just get better locks. As if it is our fault that people are breaking in.” Sabine took in a shaky breath before continuing, “We get people who leave “gifts” instead. They are letters to Tom and I, accusing us of abusing Marinette...of neglecting our baby. They seem to think we don’t care about what happened to her Joséphine. We’ve had to replace some windows after one incident with a rock and some spray paint.”

“Oh my goodness Sabine! I’m so sorry. You and Tom don’t deserve any of that.” Joséphine gasped out, but Sabine wanted to argue that maybe they did. “That is just cruel and disgusting. If you two ever need anything please don’t hesitate to ask, or if you just need to talk or get out of the house for awhile, call me okay? Things...things will get better.”

“Merci Joséphine...maybe I’ll take you up on that. Enjoy your treats and tell me how Stephan likes everything okay?” Sabine responded after a while.

“I will...I will keep you and Tom and Marinette in my prayers. Merci Madame.” Joséphine said before leaving. 

Sabine’s movements felt robotic as she walked over to the door, locked it, and flipped the sign letting everyone know they would be closing for lunch. It was a small mercy that they were already at the middle of their day. Thankfully Roland and Gina would have lunch ready for them, they had been so helpful through everything but sometimes Sabine couldn’t help but feel like even they blamed Tom and Sabine for what happened to Marinette. Sabine knew how much Gina adored Marinette and she could see how much getting to know Marinette had meant to Roland, to have their granddaughter gone so all of a sudden, they too were grieving in the way they best knew how. They parented and distracted themselves with helping out Tom and Sabine as much as they could, that would be why they were staying with them. She knew how Roland was about them being late to lunch so Sabine made her way to the kitchen to see Tom baking but it looked like he was doing everything on autopilot, she wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t even heard Joséphine come in. 

“Tom. Sweetheart. It’s lunchtime, let’s go eat with your parents.” She mumbled as she placed a soft hand on Tom’s shoulder stopping him from decorating the last of the cupcakes he had made. 

“Oh...Lunchtime already?”

“Yeah. Here let me put those on display then we’ll head on up.” She took the tray of cupcakes gently from him and went out to the front again to put them on display where she saw several people looking in their shop. She decided to just ignore them...and the camera flashes, though maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to pull the security gates down just while they were upstairs for lunch. In fact that’s exactly what she did. “Ready to head up dear?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, ready. Let’s go eat. It’s been a long morning.” Tom said with a small smile. She felt like it was more for her benefit but she still appreciated it all the same. Once they went upstairs they went through the motions of eating lunch and if someone asked Tom and Sabine what they had eaten, they wouldn’t have been able to answer, but they gave the obligatory remarks of, “This is so good thank you,” and,” So good. Maybe you can make it again sometime.” Maybe Roland and Gina saw through them, they probably had and the fact they made no comment about it truly was a blessing. As a way to avoid conversation if they needed to Sabine turned on the television and it just so happened to be the news.

“And as promised viewers video footage of The Protector in action. This footage was donated to us by an anonymous source who had happened upon The Protector out in the open when she was akumatized. I want to warn everybody, the footage may be shocking to some viewers. Roll the clip please.” Nobody spoke. How could they? Sure they knew people still had some weird fascination with their daughter and granddaughter’s akumatization but the news stations had stopped reporting on it or at least they thought they had. Nadja certainly hadn’t given them a heads up about this little ‘special’ of theirs like she had done previously, and yet here they were watching her and Alec talking about their daughter and they wouldn’t even say her name. She has a name. Sabine robotically pressed on the remote to see more info on the program and had to swallow back bile, ‘The Protector Really Paris’s Protector?’ that was the title and already Sabine could feel her anger rising. She didn’t bother reading the summary, she already knew what this special was about.

 She watched as her daughter, her baby girl, bent down in a patch of butterfly bushes crying her eyes out, sobbing out her hurt for anyone and everyone to hear. Her baby, even in the distance of the camera, looked so angry, so torn, she should never had to have felt like that. The video continued on with this person slowly zooming in on Marinette and Sabine had to wonder why this person was recording at all. She could never understand people’s obsessions with filming akumas, at least many filmed from a distance other than Alya and sometimes Nadja but it was always after the fact the person was akumatized. Maybe that’s why this particular video was bothering her so much, this person, whoever they were, they were filming her daughter breaking down because they knew at any moment she would be akumatized or, and the idea made her sick to her stomach, they were hoping she would be akumatized. They were hoping for a chance to have a video go viral, maybe they weren’t  but that’s the only thing that Sabine could rationalize why they would be filming her teenage daughter in the first place.

The video was a bit shaky as it seemed like the person filming didn’t want to be seen even though there was no one else there. Sabine hadn’t realized she started crying until she felt the tears hit her hand. She hated seeing Marinette in pain and her not being able to comfort her. She, her husband, and his parents watched with bated breath as they saw an akuma finally fly into frame and slowly make its way towards Marinette. Sabine wanted to shout out a warning, do something, but she  knew it was pointless and that just made the tears fall more. Everyone watching could tell that Marinette hadn’t noticed the akuma at all as she was still sobbing and wailing, Sabine could feel Tom squeeze her hand and she squeezed his right back. Then the akuma landed and merged but that wasn’t the shocking part, they had to watch their daughter stare at nothing with too-wide eyes and the familiar symbol of Hawkmoth over her face sit there as dozens...no, maybe hundreds of butterflies, white butterflies surrounded Marinette and landed on her body. 

Then a bright light flashed, it was so unlike any akumatization anyone had seen, the butterflies were gone but if you looked closely at the fading light surrounding Marinette you could see the faint flutter of wings. Then she stood up, the Protector stood up. Sabine sobbed and not for the first time cursed at her daughters classmates, they had been around Marinette the most, they knew her daughter, she did everything for them and yet they treated her like that. To the point of akumatization. Sabine prayed that her little girl wasn’t actually Ladybug like it was speculated, even if it made sense, because that would mean her daughter had been suffering through more than just everything going on at school and really, Sabine wasn’t ready to face all of that just yet.

“Now before we discuss everything in that video I will say we do have many more to share so stay tuned Paris!”

Next Chapter

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  August Walker x OFC Freya (Forest Nymph) Original Female Character is described as white/pale, short and of small build, hazel eyes, long dark hair.

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of past abusive relationships, on the run, alcohol consumption, Daddy Kink, DD/LG, Pet names, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, hyperspermia, cum play, cum feeding, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy test.

Previous Parts: 

Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars. Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1 Vampire Walter: Chapter 2

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 3

The blood slowly trickled across the board and off the table, coating the floor before running into the drain. August raised the heavy cleaver, and with one thunderous swipe severed the femur clean in two. The cleaver made a metallic clang that echoed around the stark tile lined room, and wiping his hands on his apron he lifted the product of his work and inspected his efforts closely. A smile spread over his lips as he looked up;

“There we go Mrs Mackenzie, a nice juicy bone for your dog”

The old woman smiled, her purple tinted grey hair in tight curls that barely moved as she nodded;

“Oh yes, that’ll be perfect! My Clarence will love it!”

At that very moment Clarence started yapping outside where he was tied to the specials chalkboard that sat on the sidewalk outside Walkers Meats, 10lbs of teeth, fur and anger wrapped into the body of a small West Highland Terrier;

“I’m sure he will. I’ll wrap it up for you and Freya will finish ringing up your order for you. We’ll get it delivered this afternoon…”

August walked around the counter and set the wrapped bone into the box, nodding to his assistant to finish up the order. She knew that the bone would be free of charge, but that Mrs Mackenzie would insist on tipping and sliding her $10 which August was more than happy for Freya to keep. The slight girl turned and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, before she quietly nodded and continued with her duties.

Returning to the butchery area August glanced up and caught sight of his reflection in the painted mirror, the design obscuring the scarring on the side of his face, giving him that moment of relief from those memories of a past long ago, a life he had left behind when he had sought out quiet solitude in the peaceful mountain town of Blackwater Lake. People minded their own business there and didn’t ask questions. If you had a skill that could help others you were welcomed into the community. How August got into the meat business is a story for another day, but as his gaze travelled across the mirror to where Freya was measuring out the wild herb mixes into small mason jars he smiled and remembered instead how she came into his life.

-

Pulling the sign in from the sidewalk August was exhausted. Running a business completely on his own had seemed like a good idea when he’d started, he enjoyed his own company and he distrusted anyone else to do the job to a standard he would approve of. What he hadn’t counted on was the residents of this sleepy little town not only accepting him, but joyous that he was there and wanting to talk endlessly every time they visited his store. Although he was always polite and did his best to end conversations quickly, after eight hours of it he had jaw ache and knew he would need to work well into the night on the new sides of beef that had been delivered that morning if he were to have any stock to sell the next day. He glanced longingly at the small sign that sat propped up in the window; ‘Help Needed - Enquire Within’, yet he hadn’t had any takers in the month the sign had been up. 

The icy winter wind curled at his neck, sending a shiver down his spine as he let out a sigh, heaving the heavy sign into the building so it didn’t blow away in the night as a icy squall blew in from the mountains. As the door slammed shut behind him it echoed a knock around the store, but when it came again he turned and let out a far from masculine yelp; the face of a pale young woman stared back at him like a ghoul in the darkness. Clearing his throat and smoothing down his blue and white striped apron, he approached the door and opened it;

“May I help you Miss?”

She nodded down to the sign;

“Do you still need someone?”

Her teeth were chattering, and it was hardly surprising as she was barely dressed for the weather, the knitted cardigan doing little to ward off the cold wind. August opened the door to allow her to enter, looking down at the top of her head as she slunk past him.

“Let me get a pot of coffee on, you must be freezing”

As he disappeared into the back office he set the pot of coffee on to heat before grabbing an old jacket that was hanging on the back of the door, returning to where his visitor stood in the store a few moments later, handing her the jacket;

“Its cold in here, we can’t have the heat on because of the meat”

Nodding she took the jacket, her teeth still chattering;

“T-t-thanks… its still warmer than outside”

He handed her a mug of steaming coffee;

“Sorry, i don’t have any creamer or sugar…” She wrapped her delicate fingers around the mug using it more for heat than sustenance as he leant back against the counter on the other side of the store; “So… you’re wanting a job? What experience have you got? You worked in retail?”

She shook her head and muttered a quiet no, keeping her eyes averted from him as she spoke;

“But i will try anything… just looking for a new start”

“Are you running from something?” A gentle nod of her head and the way she clutched the mug tighter told August it was a someone not a something; “Look, if you’re willing to learn, work hard and pay attention, i’ll give you a trial. I’ve gotta level with you, you’re the only person who’s shown any interest in the sign, and i’m getting desperate, so if you want you can start tomorrow”

Her head snapped up and for the first time he saw her eyes, deep hazel peering out from behind long strands of dark brown hair;

“Really?”

“Yes. Really” he stated in a matter of fact way; “I’ll need to get your address and details for the wages…”

“Oh… i’m not… i’ve not got anywhere. I guess i’ll find a cheap motel…”

August paused;

“Kid, there’s no motel in town… at least not this time of year. But i might have a solution for you”

Her eyes widened in fear and August realised whatever she was running from had done more damage than she showed;

“No no, not that” he assured her; “There’s a small apartment above the shop - two in fact, i’ve got one and the other i’ve never rented out, never got round to it… its small but completely self contained, your own entrance and everything, completely secure”

Once a few forms had been filled out August had gotten the girl settled in the small studio apartment. He’d shown her how the fold out bed worked, explained that the hot water fed off the furnace for the whole building so she could use as much as she wanted. A couple of minutes after he’d left her in the apartment he knocked at her door, surprised to hear the locks sliding across at first, but then realising she needed to feel safe. When she peered around the door she almost looked surprised to see him there, as if it would be anyone else;

“Umm yeah?”

August handed her a box of things he’d scavenged from his own kitchen;

“Here’s just a few things to see you through the night… I haven’t been grocery shopping in a while, but the bread was in the freezer and it’ll defrost pretty quickly if you put it in the toaster”

He handed the box to Freya, surprised at how smooth but also small her hands were as she took it from him as they brushed against his own. She nodded and smiled;

“Thank you Mr Walker”

“Night. See you bright and early tomorrow morning” 

-

The next morning August woke to an insistent knocking on his door. Grumbling to himself he pulled on his robe and stalked across his small apartment, pulling the door open with a thunderous look on his face, ready to give whatever maniac that was knocking on his door at 5am a piece of his mind;

“WHAT THE… oh… hi…”

Freya was standing on his doormat, a look of shock on her face;

“Hi… i’m ready to start”

“To… start?”

“Work. You said bright and early”

August ran his palm over his face;

“I… When i said…” he let out a long slow breath; “I meant 8am”

“Oh.”

That was a long day, but by lunchtime Freya had mastered the cash desk and had already started to come out of her shell, the locals more than welcoming for the tiny girl with the woodland eyes, and with her help August was able to catch up on his work.

Over the following month her input had helped August expand his products, suggesting a range of seasonings in reusable jars, where if the customer returned the mason jar they’d get a discount off the next one they purchased. He discovered she had this unfathomable knowledge of herbs and plants, but also had this connection with nature he couldn’t quite understand. He’d sometimes catch her staring out of the window at the trees blowing in the wind, as if listening to their songs that were beyond his own ears.

One thing was for sure, there was a sense of magic to her and August thanked the stars above that she walked into his store on that cold winter night.

-

Back in the present August was busy cleaning the cutting table as Freya busied herself with her jars - it was her own little enterprise now and one she was absolutely proud of. He could see that she kept glancing outside, gnawing on her lip;

“Freya, everything ok?”

“Yes Mr Walker. I was just thinking, the next batch wild garlic is ready to be picked, if i collect some this afternoon i can have more chimichurri mixed ready for tomorrow, and that’s when the beef delivery is coming in”

August let out a chuckle;

“How many times do I have to say to call me August…” he met her gaze with a smile; “And yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea. The store’s quiet and i’ll be doing deliveries in a while, so sure, go exploring”

“Thank you Mr Walker”

August rolled his eyes and let out a laugh, watching as she hung up her apron and grabbed her foraging basket, skipping out of the door and towards the creek that fed into the lake a couple of miles away.

-

Three hours later August was driving back along the gravel road that led into town, having made his deliveries. The spring air was damp but warm, rain threatening to spill but the clouds unwilling to release their bounty just yet. Rounding the bend he looked out over the soft marshland, the grass knee high already and he saw a familiar figure stepping through the green undergrowth. With a smile he pulled his SUV to a stop at the side of the road, stepping out of the vehicle he leaned against the door as he watched Freya as she slowly made her way through the field, before she stopped as her attention moved to the treeline. Following her gaze he watched as a bear emerged from the woods and his heart sank. The native wildlife would be coming out of hibernation, and would be grumpy and hungry. He went to shout but a sudden rush of wind silenced his voice, watching as she held her arm out and the grass flattened in front of her as if a wind devil had made its way through. Glancing back to the bear it had stopped in its tracks but was still staring at her, but then started to circle around on the spot before settling down as if for a nap.

August anxiously watched, knowing if Freya ran she could make it to the car as long as the bear was weak, but he didn’t want to risk that it hadn’t had a belly full of salmon yet, so he quickly reached into the vehicle and pulled his unregistered handgun from beneath his seat. Back at the side of the road he raised the firearm at the bear, glancing at Freya who had now spotted him waiting for her. She started to quicken her pace through the grasses, eventually breaking into a run as she neared the embankment of the road. August glanced to where the bear had been and let out a yell as he saw it was starting to approach them;

“Freya, RUN!”

Doing as he instructed she broke into a sprint, her legs carrying her through the grass and up the embankment. Flinging his door open he motioned for her to dive in, her basket being launched into the passenger footwell as she tumbled across the centre console and into the passenger seat, August launching himself into the driver's seat and gunning the engine as he slammed the door shut, the urgent crunch of tyres on loose gravel dulling the sound of the grizzly’s roar as it had caught up, but was now rapidly disappearing into the distance of the rear view mirror.

August only slowed down as he reached the urban centre of Blackwater Lake, Freya’s breathing having finally levelled out as she turned to him;

“So… there’s bears here?”

He slowed the vehicle and pulled to a stop in a parking lot before turning to her;

“Yes. And moose and cougars and mountain lions… hell sometimes I even hear howls in the night so there’s probably something wolfy up in those mountains too… We need to get you better prepared for nature” August paused; “And what was that thing you did with your hand? That made the grass flatten and the bear sit down…”

Freya shrugged;

“I’m not sure… it's just this thing i’ve always been able to do, calm animals down”

“Huh. Didn’t seem to work this time…”

She glanced at him, her eyes wide;

“I think that was because you were there…”

August let out a laugh, before sitting back in his seat;

“Okay, point taken. I need a drink. We’re at Big-G’s, I'll buy you dinner…”

-

August regretted his decision. He hadn’t factored in how slight Freya was in comparison to her ability to consume alcohol, so three drinks later where all he’d had was lite beer, Freya was completely wasted. The giveaway was when she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder whilst he’d been talking to Geralt - the bar owner - and she’d started to drool on his shirt. Geralt had told him to ‘get his girl home’ with a wry laugh, telling August his meal was on the house. Something had stopped August from correcting the ashen haired man, looking down at the imp of the girl leaning on him. 

He’d managed to carry her to his car fairly easily but the journey up the steps at their building had been more of a challenge. He’d managed to get her to wrap her arms around his shoulders, but had been surprised when she’d also wrapped her legs around his waist. Although it meant he could use one arm to hold her up, the feel of her warm body clinging to his sent a rush of heat through his stomach straight to his groin, he was just thankful she was so out of it she didn’t notice the tent in his pants. 

As he juggled his keys he found the spare for her apartment but then thought better of it, unsure how she was when she’d had alcohol, and instead opened his own apartment. Crossing the almost dark room he reached the couch and slowly lowered her down to the cushions, her whimpers of loss as he started to pull away making him pause;

“Mmmm Daddy, you’re so warm…” 

Holding her still a low rumble slowly bubbled through his throat when she nuzzled against his neck;

“Daddy smells so good…” and she pressed a kiss to the stubble on his chin.

August knew she was drunk, probably didn’t even realise it was him, after all who would want someone as broken and scarred as he was, but for that briefest of moment’s he relished her touch and what was going on in her tequila addled mind. He couldn’t help himself and pressed the briefest of kiss to her cheek;

“Time to sleep now little Kitten” he muttered before reluctantly uncoupling himself from her grasp, pulling a blanket over her as she dozed on his couch. Raking his hand down his face he let out a sigh, before grabbing a glass of water and setting it onto the coffee table in front of her. A scribbled note on the back of a flyer explained that she was drunk and he wasn’t sure if she would need his help, and he didn’t want to invade her privacy of her own apartment.

Having poured himself a generous glass of vodka, August withdrew to his own bedroom, silently closing the door before stripping for bed. It was an early night but without the TV to entertain him and no desire to get lost in a book, he settled on top of the covers in just his underwear, sipping at the ice cold liquor as he willed the swelling of his loins to subside. However every time he tried to clear his mind, all he could imagine was Freya. The thought of her small body beneath his, their bodies sweaty and writhing as one. Finally with a curse he gave in to his desires, pulling his underwear down and taking his hard length into his hand, pumping dry to increase the friction as his mind descended further into taboo territory. He imagined it was her hand, calling him Daddy as she asked if she was doing it right, that her perfect lips would duck down and take his bulbous tip into her mouth, her tongue lapping at his slit as her hazel eyes would stare back up at him, wide with innocence. With a strangled cry he came in violent spurts, covering his hand and stomach in ropes of his cum, thoughts of the delicate woman in his lounge lapping at his spent seed prolonging his orgasm until he was aching and empty. With a curse he looked down at the mess he’d made, realising he needed to clean himself up.

-

The quiet click of his front door woke August the next morning, pushing himself up off the pillow as he heard small footsteps down the outside of the building and the quiet beep of his car being unlocked. Wondering what the hell was happening he leapt out of bed and peered out of the window, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw a dishevelled Freya gathering the wild garlic that had been scattered around his inside of his vehicle the day before.

A few minutes later the thud of his keys falling onto his doormat where she’d posted them through the letterbox sounded through his apartment, and when he went to collect them he found a small note with them;

‘Mr Walker, thank you for your help, I hope I didn't make a fool of myself last night. Your car stinks of garlic now, i’m going to walk up the creek and collect some herbs that will help reduce the odour, Freya x’

-

An hour later when she hadn’t returned, August set off towards the creek through the pleasant woodland, the sunlight leaving dappled patches of gold on the forest floor. Coming to the wide bend in the creek where the water was shallow, he saw the swing over the water that someone had put there years ago, mismatched ropes and a wooden seat, and how someone had now woven wildflowers into the ropes, and as he glanced upstream he saw Freya knee deep in the water, a butterfly dancing on her hand.

Something overcame him and he pulled off his boots and socks, rolling up his pants as he stepped out into the water and sat on the swing, silently watching as she charmed nature beyond a simple human’s comprehension, having control of the elements like a forest nymph. August had seen a lot of unusual things in the time he’d lived in Blackwater Lake, he knew those that had something a little special about them gravitated towards the sleepy little mountain town, so as he watched Freya make her way upstream towards him he realised there was magic in the air. Small water spouts rose from the water as she took each step, as if chasing after her touch as she stepped from rock to rock submerged under the water. 

As she approached the shallow bend in the creek she finally looked up and saw August, a smile spreading over her lips;

“Hi”

“Hi”

“Its so pretty here, isn’t it?” she asked wistfully

“Beautiful from where i’m sitting”

She approached where he sat, stopped at arms reach, a hint of blush warming her cheeks;

“I’m sorry if I was inappropriate last night… thank you for taking care of me, i’m not a big drinker”

“You weren’t inappropriate…” he reassured her; “But it's been a while since a beautiful woman called me Daddy… since before… since before i was broken...”

Her gaze moved to the scar on the side of his face, and without a word she stepped forward and pressed her hand to the spidery scarring. In that moment August felt the magic in her touch, prickling at his skin before she nimbly climbed onto his lap, her legs wrapping around his waist and she lowered her lips to his, softly brushing against his as she spoke;

“You’re not broken, no more than I am…”

The kiss was soft and slow, and as her tongue started to gently tease at the seam of his lips she eased her weight completely onto his lap, her core pressing to his, the heat of their growing lust growing like an ember between them. 

Her small tongue licked into his mouth, tasting him as she pressed her body flush to his chest, small whimpers coming from her as his hands splayed over her back and pulled her firmly down onto his growing arousal. When the need for oxygen finally took precedence August’s lips traced a path of kisses down her jaw and neck, her fingers winding through his dark curls as her head fell back to give him better access to the pale expanse of her collarbone;

“Oh Daddy…”

“That’s it my little one, i’m going to treat you so well, my little Kitten…” August’s mustache brushed against her heated skin as he spoke, the gentle sway of the swing letting their bodies move against each other.

Just at that moment an ominous creak sounded above them, drawing their attention up into the tree’s canopy, just in time to see the rope that held the swing up snap, plunging them down into the shallow creekwater below.

With shouts and screams the moment of passion was lost, taken over by the shock of the water hitting their heated skin. August helped Freya up, her dress plastered to her skin in much the same way his shirt was, soaked head to toe he shook the water from his hair;

“Home?”

“Yes Daddy” Freya purred, pulling into his touch as he wrapped an arm around her to help her out of the water.

-

Pushing in the door to his apartment, clothes were being pulled from each other's bodies even as the door was still ajar. As he pulled his shirt off, Freya’s hands were curling into the hair on his chest, an almost feral growl bubbling from her lips as she ran her hands down to his stomach and rested on the buckle of his belt. Catching her hands in his he held them gently, only speaking when she looked up and met his gaze;

“Kitten, I want to be sure you want this… You’re in total control here, you set the boundaries, you say when you need to stop. But if you do want this, i’ll be your Daddy and take care of you like a Princess”

Freya voice shook as she spoke;

“I want this… my last… he wanted to be my Daddy but didn’t treat me right. He took more than I could give…”

August lifted her small hands to his mouth, kissing each fingertip with such great care and tenderness her heart almost melted before she finally spoke again;

“We should really check for leeches”

“WHAT?!”

Freya had never seen anyone strip their clothing off quite as fast as August just had. For a big man - and a pretty tough one at that - the mere thought of little blood suckers had him stripping completely naked in a matter of seconds, Freya pulling her dress off a little slower until she stood in just her simple underwear. August was still patting himself down, turning to look at his behind;

“Am I ok?”

Freya couldn’t help herself, stepping forwards and taking two handfuls of August’s pert asscheeks, giving them a squeeze before running her palms over the perfectly rounded globes of his buttocks;

“More than ok”

In the following moments August carried her to his small bathroom, turning the shower on before he stepped under the warm jets of water, pulling her with him so he could soap her down. The scent of sandalwood of his soap as he carefully washed every inch of her body was overwhelming, taking care of her to wash any last traces of creek water from her body. He paused as he reached the apex of her thighs, waiting for her agreement which she quickly nodded for him to continue, his large hand sliding between her legs and caressing her lips. His skilled fingers soon sought out her pearl, teasing it gently from its hood before he slid a finger into her waiting heat, a cry falling from her lips which he quickly swallowed with a kiss. His work calloused hands quickly drove her to an orgasm - a first of many - and as she came she called his name, like a prayer on her lips. 

Shutting the water off, August carefully lifted her out of the bath, wrapping a large towel around her before scooping her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. On the messy covers her hair clung to her skin, before he carefully lifted the long tendrils from her chest and was able to take in the sight of her petite naked body laying fresh and prone on his bed. Her hand reached out for him, pulling him close;

“Daddy, I want to feel you…”

August smiled;

“Will you be a good girl for me Kitten? Do you think you can take me? You’re awfully small, and I'm pretty big…”

She sat up, pressing a hand to his chest;

“Can I try? Can I go on top?”

Nodding August lay on the bed, propped up against the pillows, lifting her petite frame on top of him. He watched with pleasure as she wriggled down the bed, her hands gripping his thighs as she settled between his legs. Wrapping her small hands around his generous length she looked up at him as she started to give small licks to his hot flesh, her fingers struggling to encircle his meaty girth. Opening her mouth she took a good three inches between her lips straight away, a litany of curses falling from August’s lips as he felt the hot wet heat of her mouth engulf him. It was better than he could ever had imagined, and he had to grip at the bedsheets to stop himself from cumming at that very moment. Steadying his breathing he let out a low sigh before he reluctantly pulled her off, a trail of spittle hanging between his dick and her mouth;

“But Daddy, I want to taste your cum…”

“I know Kitten, but it's going to be a lot the first time, and I want to see your cunt dripping with me, knowing your tight little pussy is going to overflow with the amount I'm going to pump into you. Now be a good girl and see what you can do, let's make it fit…”

Straddling his thick thighs she positioned herself over his hard shaft, her hand holding him steady as she swiped him through her folds to douse his gnarled girth with her juices, before settling with the tip at her entrance. August ran his hands up and down her arms, comforting her and hoping to get her to relax. He was a patient man but the feel of her soaked flesh pressing against his crown was becoming a struggle not to grab her hips and pull her down until he was balls deep in one swift thrust.

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Freya slowly lowered herself onto August’s shaft, going at a pace she could cope with, but the strain of holding back caused perspiration to bead on August’s forehead;

“Doing so well Kitten… I know its a lot, but you can do it… you’re so fucking tight…. Fuck…”

Taking a deep breath Freya finally let herself fall the rest of the way, feeling him part her silken walls until she was settled on his lap. Tears fell from her eyes, tiny diamonds adorning her cheeks at the overwhelming sense of fullness she was experiencing. Seeing these August kissed them away, his praises made her swell with pride as he admitted to her he was struggling not to cum from just the feeling of her tight walls engulfing him. He pushed a hand between their bodies, resting his palm on her stomach;

“Put your hand here… you’re so tiny I can feel myself deep inside you, your little tummy blown out with my dick…”

His thumb crept down and grazed at her pearl, making her cry out before yearning for more. With his ministrations she was soon relaxed enough to start to ride him, her nimble thighs bouncing on his meaty counterparts, feeling the slick push and pull as he filled her whilst she drove them towards their peak. 

Unsurprisingly Freya came first, the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through her body was all too much to hold back, and she came with a silent scream, her body gripping August so tight it set him off, pushing in so deep he was sure his dick had kissed her cervix, before flooding her with endless ropes of his thick seed, soothing her inner core with his milky gift. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her to his chest, holding her tight as the floods of emotions surged through her, stroking her back tenderly.

Eventually he carefully lifted her onto the bed, peppering her bare skin with bristly kisses, before parting her thighs and leaning back to admire his handiwork, a thick sheen of white covering her swollen petals. With a single finger he carefully swiped through his mess, before holding it to her mouth;

“Taste Kitten… taste our passion…”

Holding onto his wrist she sucked the digit into her mouth, her tongue tasting their combined essence. When his finger finally dropped from her lips his gaze fell down and hers followed, her eyes going wide when she saw he was hard and ready for more. Laying back she hooked her hands behind her knees and spread herself open for him;

“Daddy, will you fill me up again, please?”

Positioning himself at her cum soaked hole August smiled, a dark hint of lust glinting in his eyes;

“It would be my pleasure Kitten”

-

Three weeks later

Freya chewed nervously on her lip, having circled the isles of the drug store too many times to count now, waiting for a time when there was no-one near what she needed. Finally it was the right moment and she slunk into the isle, grabbing the thin rectangular box before stepping back and bumping into someone, her item tumbling to the floor as a third set of feet appeared;

“Freya! Mrs Syverson! Good Morning!”

It was Sue from the coffee shop, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere just as Mrs Syverson had backed away from the opposite shelf to keep little baby Luna from grabbing the glass bottles of antacid medicine. Mrs Syverson immediately clocked what Freya had been holding;

“Oh Freya, could you just reach those things for me? I can’t reach down with Luna here…”

With shaking hands Freya handed the bag of cotton wool balls and the pregnancy test to the woman only a couple of years her senior, who in turn smiled at Sue as she laughed;

“Sy’s always keeping me on my toes… in more ways than one” She winked before tugging on Freya’s arm; “Sweetie, I need to place an order for a big cookout we have coming up for Sy’s birthday…”

Steering her away from town gossip Sue, Mrs Syverson lowered her voice;

“I’ll meet you outside sweetie, don’t worry about it, i saw you circling the shop”

A few minutes later Mrs Syverson appeared at the door, two drugstore bags in her hand before handing one to Freya;

“My advice, tell August now, do the test together”

“Are you sure? Do you think he’ll be angry?”

“Angry? Hell no, i think it’ll be what he wants, and no matter what the result he’s always had puppy dog eyes for you, we could all tell from the moment you walked into his life”

Peering into the bag Freya saw there was also a bag of Hershey’s kisses;

“You’ll need the sugar, to calm your nerves afterwards”

“Thanks Mrs S… i appreciate it”

“No problem Freya… and i’ll see you tomorrow, i really do need to place that order, but get today over and done with first”

That afternoon Freya and August took the test, then feasted on kisses of every kind.

[debiteful]

Are you still doin' writing requests? If so, could you write about a giant finding a borrower, with some unintentional fearplay on the giants part?

Content: apparent threat of harm, size difference (Giant/tiny), fearplay, hand held, crying, trapped under a bowl, ends on a positive note

Taking on a renovation by yourself was a monumental task. Thankfully the boundless strength of a giant made it much easier. Will spent weeks planning everything before he was finally ready to begin.

He started with the floors, tearing them up bit by bit. Beneath the boards there were scraps of fabric, bits of metal that seemed to have once been staples, and even an old cereal box. At first Will assumed whoever had built the place had been careless. As he progressed and found more trash, he began to see patterns. Strategic cuts in the cardboard here, nails running in a diagonal line without securing anything, and other such seemingly intelligent designs. 

Though it was odd, it helped click some puzzle pieces together. Rustling in the panty, socks disappearing, and soft yet shrill noises in the night. Something tiny was living in his home. By the looks of it they were taking things for their own purposes too! Nothing important of course, or he might've noticed sooner.

Now he had more planning to do. After all, he was tearing apart their home too!

Skip berated herself for the hundredth time for sticking around after that bean began tearing the place apart. Safe hiding places were growing fewer by the hour it seemed. It was impossible to predict where it would go to next, meaning she had to move all the borrowed things hastily. Already she had left a lot behind, and, to make matters worse, it had been found. Thankfully the bean hadn't seemed to catch on.

On the bright side, the renovation left lots of building scraps. Most helpful was the chunks of insulating foam. They were easy to cut and carry, and they could be used to build all sorts of things.

Presently Skip was trying to move them into the shed across the back lawn. She'd never lived out there because the temperature fluctuated too much. With insulation it might be bearable, and it would certainly be safer than in that madbean's house!

Unfortunately, the main house was still the best place to get food. Skip would wait somewhere secure in the evening until she heard the bean go to bed, then sneak out to get what crumbs she could. 

Tonight, a fallen cracker tempted her, but it was the crushed cereal on the counter that would be doable to bring home. She darted out from behind the toaster towards it, but she didn't get far.

Something caught her leg. As she fell, there was a grating sound. Then darkness. Something had landed atop her! A bowl? Probably.

Skip walked slowly with her arms out as feelers. Upon reaching the edge she tried to get her fingers under it and lift. That failed, of course.

She tried to fight back panic. Her shim and pry bar lay securely at home- this was supposed to be a quick in and out job! Essentially equipmentless, there were very few options. 

She took in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Mind a little clearer, she searched her memory for what direction she must be facing. Slowly she walked around the edge of the bowl to the side closest to the edge of the counter. At least, she hoped it was. 

Pushing with all her might got her nowhere. Getting a running start for the shove did about the same. Soon, Skip was throwing herself at the bowl in desperation. 

Battered and exhausted, she sunk to her knees. Body and tears fell to the countertop.

The rest of the night was spent filled with tension. Every sound was certainly the giant coming. Paranoid thoughts spiraled, centered around what the giant would do to her.

When at last Will did come, the sound was unmistakable to the trembling borrower. She had heard those thunderous steps a thousand times.

Skip envied the ease with which the giant lifted the bowl which confined her. Tilted up on one edge, it could now shove its gigantic hand beneath. She couldn't help but utter a little shriek as fingers as large as her groped around blindly. She didn't dare try to dart through the gap lest the bowl snap back down on a limb.

Dodging the fingers was difficult with no sleep or breakfast. The tip of one brushed her leg. The whole hand rushed her. A massive thumb pinned her to the pointer finger.

The bowl lifted slowly, so she had ample time to imagine the look on its face while she struggled. Her heart was racing wildly. Tears threatened to well up, but she had spent most of them through the night. Stinging eyes locked on to the enormous face.

The giant had quite the satisfied grin splitting its features. Its eyes flicked side to side as the giant took in its captive.

Likewise, Skip's eyes darted frantically. No sign of a weapon. Then again, with teeth and hands like these, it wouldn't need a weapon. Gracious it was absolutely gigantic up close, larger than she had ever thought.

The thunderous voice she had heard dozens of times was deafening at such a close range.

"Hello there," Will said in awe. The borrower was silent and flinched. He frowned and spoke more softly, "Who are you?" 

Even at a dull roar the sound was too much. Skip growled like an animal and bit at his knuckles. He inhaled sharply and adjusted the hold to pin her head. It wouldn't take much for those fingers to crush it.

Will put her in the jar he had for this purpose. Being moved through the air was a disorienting and unpleasant experience. If she was lucky, she would be too dizzy to see whatever killed her coming. Skip was genuinely surprised when she landed on something soft in the bottom of the glass.

Left on the counter, she didn't dare take her eyes off of her captor. He bustled around the kitchen humming softly. She was familiar with this habit of his- the sound echoed through the walls in the evening. For the first time she heard the lyrics of his little ditty, "Gonna cook you up, gotta cook you right up! First I gotta chop you up, then plop you in the pot to cook you up!"

Hearing the giant narrate his process sent a dreadful chill through her. He was going to cook and eat her!! 

More vigilant than ever, her gaze never left him. Eyes locked onto the shining blade of a knife pulled from the block. Watching the vegetables get chopped up brought to mind terrible images. The ease with which the bean could toss a heap of food into the pot brought to mind just how small she was.

Finally, the tears spilled out. Where they had been held in reserve, she had no idea. Frantic little hands rubbed one eye at a time. Delicate fingers brushed away tears without obstructing her view too much.

By the time the food was filling the air with its aroma, she still hadn't stopped crying. She watched through bleary eyes as he filled a ladle with the sauteed vegetables and brought it over. So she wasn't to be cooked: he was going to heap scalding food onto her! 

Skip scrambled to one side of the jar and slid her back up the wall. That one scoop wouldn't be enough to bury her here. 

Her warped upturned face looked back down at her as the ladle lowered. The giant stuck it right into the jar, then let go. What was its angle? 

Tearing her gaze from his intent face, she eyed the handle of the ladle. Yes, it should be doable. Three bounding steps took her to the ladle. Using her momentum she vaulted over the bowl of it and grasped the flat handle. Like she had done hundreds of times before, she shot up the metal beam.

Just as she reached level with the lip of the jar, the giant reacted. He shouted, a deafening thunderclap. Those enormous fingers engulfed her momentarily, then they knocked her back into the jar. Now one hand lay over the mouth of her prison, effectively sealing it.

Will crouched, bringing the jar to eye level. He spoke gently, "Hey, aren't you hungry? I don't know how long exactly you were stuck on the counter." When she didn't respond he pressed on, "I promise it's good. I didn't know if you ate meat, but I figured veggies would be a safe choice. Hope it's okay that it's cooked- do you cook? Oh nevermind, it doesn't matter. Hey- can you understand me?" As his eyes scanned for any response, he finally noticed the red eyes and wet cheeks, "Oh no, have you been crying? Why? I didn't hurt you did I? Oh- I might've scared you… I'm really sorry little one."

Skip listened to his continuous ramble. It almost sounded good natured… Could she have been mistaken? A small bubble of rage rose up and erupted, "Wouldn't you be terrified if some gigantic brute trapped you and started singing about cooking?!"

Will frowned in dismay, "I didn't think about it like that."

"Beans never think," she screeched, "They just kill."

The frown deepened then flashed to a smirk, "Bean? Is that what you call us? Why?"

Skip rolled her eyes. What a dumb question! ….why did they call them beans? That didn't matter right now. 

She walked over to the ladle and picked up a spear of carrot. One eye still on the giant, she took a bite of the tender veggie. 

He gave a big grin, "Is it good?"

She nodded, honestly a little surprised. "So, why did you catch me? Why feed me too?"

"Well, as you've probably noticed, I'm doing a little work on the house. I found some of your stuff and I worried I might accidentally hurt you. Considering you've never introduced yourself, I figured just asking you to come out wouldn't work. I wanna help you move somewhere safer- whether it's temporary or not is up to you."

"My name's Skip," she piped up.

"Oh, mine is Will," he said with another big smile. His teeth were hardly threatening now.

She smiled back. "Oh! Actually I was already in the process of moving most of my stuff."

"Really? Where?"

There was a moment of hesitation; her distrust of beans ran deep. "Your shed, outside."

"All the way out there?" His eyes widened. 

With a barked laugh, she nodded, "Yeah its pretty far. Not ideal, but I haven't a clue where you're going to strike next."

The harsh choice of words made Will frown a little. He recovered quickly though, "Well now you have the inside scoop! The entire upstairs is going to be left alone. There's also the kitchen. I- well, I still don't know what sort of places you like to live, but I'm sure there's some somewhere around here.

Skip considered her options. The upstairs was rather far away, but it was a big area so safer. The kitchen was prime territory for food and other bits n bobs, but the giant would frequent it. He seemed nice enough, but one encounter couldn't undo a lifetime of learning.

"Up the stairs should do nicely," she trailed off, already scheming on how to move all her stuff.

"Alright! Sounds good. So, is there anything I could help you move?"

The response was an absent nod before she realized what he asked. What was his angle? "Oh! Um, I guess."

They discussed what exactly needed to be moved and where. Though she was on her guard, Skip didn't notice anything untoward. The move went just as smoothly. Soon she was settled into a secluded gap beneath the floor, where she had moved all her stuff herself after he brought it to a nearby location.

By the end of it, Will was very pleased with himself. He had begun to make a new friend. What's more, she was his neighbour! He felt more at ease knowing she would be safely out of the way of the renovation.

[specialagentsergio]

love, in ink

summary: Spencer wants to do something special to commemorate your relationship. (or, reader and spencer get a couples’ tattoo)

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: tattoos & tattooing, one very light sexual reference bc i'm a hoe

a/n: i recently got my first tattoo and i’ve been absolutely obsessed with tattoos ever since, so here you go. location and design was purposefully left vague so you can imagine anything you want, but i do write reader as already having at least two tattoos.

word count: 2.9k

masterlist

Spencer’s been thinking about it for years.

Two years, eight months, and twenty days to be exact.

Looking back, four months and ten days was pretty early to be thinking of something so permanent. But he couldn’t help it—contrary to how he thinks people perceive him, he’s a romantic. A bit of a hopeless one, really.

In any case, he had been right. Almost three years after your first date, you’re still together and absolutely in love. You live together, your lives are inseparably entwined. Every day has been an affirmation of the conclusion he came to three months into your relationship—you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

So really, four months and ten days wasn’t all that early to think of getting a tattoo with you.

He doesn’t have any, but you do, and he’s always loved them. He likes running his fingers over them, pressing kisses to them, rubbing moisturizer into them, and aiding you in making sure they’re all well covered in sunscreen before you’re going to be outside for a while.

He’d never really considered getting a tattoo until he saw how much you loved yours. It’s one of your favorite forms of self-expression, you’ve told him. You say the body art helps you feel more confident, comfortable, and at home in your body. Confidence in your body—that’s definitely something he could do with. But above everything, because it’s something you love, and Spencer loves you, it’s an experience he wants to share with you.

He brings up the idea over dinner forty-five days before your three-year anniversary. You’re reading while you eat—a common occurrence in your home for the both of you. He spins his fork in his hand a few times, then carefully sets it down and says your name.

You hold up a finger to ask him to wait; he watches your eyes move across the page as you finish the paragraph you’re on. Your attention is on him as soon as you’re finished. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” He’s nervous—he knows you love him, but what if you say no anyways? What if you don’t want to get a tattoo with him? They are permanent, after all. “It’s… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he admits.

Your eyes widen when you pick up on his anxiety. “Oh god, are you breaking up with me?”

He nearly chokes on the water he’d nervously sipped. “Wha—no, no!” he rushes to assure. “I—I love you. I don’t—I don’t ever want that.”

You take in a deep breath, carefully putting your book aside. “Alright. Okay.”

“Why would you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, concerned about the conclusion you’d jumped to. “Are… are you not happy? Are things not good between us, for you? I thought—well, think, they are. Maybe I’m wrong? I could be. I’ve never been the best at reading social clues. Have I missed something? I’m sorry if I have. I--”

“Spence, Spencer.” You interrupt his nervous rambling and reach across the table, placing your hand on top of his. “Things are great between us for me. I love you, too. You were just so serious when you said you wanted to talk, it caught me off guard. It’s… not an uncommon way for a conversation about breaking up to start.”

“Oh. Sorry. I—I didn’t realize it could come off like that,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay. As long as we’re not breaking up, I’m happy.” You give his hand a squeeze before leaning back in your chair. “So, what is it you want to talk about?”

“Right.” He squares his shoulders and wipes his damp palms on his pants. “Our three year anniversary is in forty-five days, and I was thinking to celebrate, maybe we could… get a tattoo together?”

Immediately you break into the most beautiful smile—he’s happy to have an eidetic memory when it comes to moments like this. “Really?” you ask, body tense with excitement.

“Yeah. Really,” he confirms. “I, um… I guess you’re on board, then?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Spencer this is so exciting! Your first tattoo!”

He doesn’t bother to correct you about calling it his first. He’s got no plans to get more, so this could very well be his only tattoo. But he doesn’t want to dampen the moment, so instead he says, “I don’t really have any ideas for it. I just want to do it with you.”

“Wait here.” You disappear into the bedroom and return with a folded piece of notebook paper. It’s worn and wrinkled, the edges curled in. He unfolds it carefully to find the page covered in your handwriting. Some of the writing looks more rushed than other parts. Some sections are in blue ink, some are in black. It’s clear you’ve been compiling this list for quite a while.

He reads it at his normal, rapid pace, but it takes him a few moments to understand it. “Is this a list of…?”

You nod. “Tattoo ideas.” He looks up at you in… well, in awe, and you shrug. “I don’t want to just get your name on me, as nice as it is.”

“How long have you been working on this?”

“Um.” The answer seems to embarrass you a little. “A… a couple of years.”

“Years?” he repeats. “But you never said anything.”

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured into getting a tattoo,” you say. “Since they are, you know, permanent.”

“Relatively.” He looks back to the paper, running his fingertips over the indents left by the pressure of the pen. “They naturally fade with age, and can age prematurely through sun exposure.”

“Yeah. Listen, it’s okay if you don’t like any of my ideas.”

Spencer shakes his head—he likes a lot of them, but he already knows which one he wants—he knew as soon as he read it. He points. “This one.”

You bend down to see it and smile. “I was hoping you’d pick that one.”

“It’s perfect,” he says, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

---

You handle pretty much everything, contacting one of your favorite artists and pitching the idea. You’ve been tattooed by her before—specifically, she did his favorite of your tattoos. So he’s happy to have her do this one, too, putting down the deposit without hesitation. The artwork she sends back is everything he pictured and more. She’s taken the idea and brought it to life better than he could ever hope to. A few tweaks here and there, then the date is set. You’ll be getting tattooed the Friday before your anniversary.

Yours will be done first, near the end of his work day—when he arrives, you should be just about done. It’s not exactly how he imagined it happening, but you said it would be better this way. If he sits and watches you get the entire thing done, you think he’ll end up psyching himself out about his own tattoo.

“Is it really that bad?” he had asked.

You shrug. “Well, it’s pain, so it’s obviously not super fun, but it’s tolerable. You overreacted when I stubbed my toe last week, so I think it’s probably best if you’re not there watching me the entire time.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain,” he defends sheepishly.

“Exactly. I’ll keep you updated with texts and pictures, though, okay?”

He agrees, because honestly, you’re probably right.

Getting into bed with you the night before he asks, “What does it feel like? Besides it just hurting.”

“It’s different for everyone. It also depends on where you get it.” Spencer bumps your arm with his nose, silently requesting for you to adjust your position in a way that allows him to press as much of his body as he possibly can against yours. You place your hand in his hair once he’s settled, as usual, then continue. “It does kind of… vibrate. That’s something I didn’t expect going into my first tattoo.”

“Vibrate?” he repeats. “That’s… well, I guess it makes sense, considering how tattoo machines work.”

“Mm-hmm. But I wouldn’t worry about that part if I were you. Last time I checked, vibration isn’t a sensation that bothers you.” A very slight tug on his hair. “The opposite, actually.”

The squeak he makes is involuntary. “I, um… okay. I’ll—I’ll keep that in mind.”

He’s treated to a little laugh, but then your tone changes. “Seriously, though, Spencer. It’s okay if it ends up being too much, or just not for you, and you can’t finish the tattoo. Or if you just don’t want to finish it. I won’t be mad.”

He’s taken by surprise at first. It is a worry that he’s been harboring, that all the sensory input will be too much, but he’s never said anything about it, so how did you know?

Then again, it’s you. Of course you know. You always do.

“Okay,” he whispers. “Thank you.”

---

“Hey, how can I help you?”

Spencer looks up from his phone to the woman who’s just come into the front of the shop from the back. As promised, you’d kept him updated on your tattoo process with texts and pictures.

“Um, I—I have an appointment?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but he’s really nervous—you were definitely right to have him come in later than you so he doesn’t have enough time to get really worked up.

“Who’s it with?”

“Megan.”

She glances over her shoulder. “Megan is currently with someone. I can go ask her how long the wait will be.”

“No, it’s okay, she’s working on my partner. We’re—we’re getting tattoos together,” he explains.

“Oh, fun! I’ll lead you back, then.”

He follows her to an open doorway. Your body is still and unmoving; Megan is hunched over your skin. You smile when you see him. “Hi, Spencer.”

“Hey. Um, how’s it going?”

You sigh. “Well, to be honest, I think this is going to be my last tattoo.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Megan says without looking up.

The little angry huff you make before replying with “I know” makes him smile, and his nerves settle a little. “Why do I do this to myself?”

Spencer can tell it’s just a rhetorical question, asked in good humor, but he can’t stop himself from answering it regardless.

“There are many different reasons that could drive someone to get a tattoo despite the pain, including the adrenaline and endorphins the body produces in response to pain, stress relief, and the need for creative expression.”

“Stress relief?” you repeat. “I haven’t heard that one before.”

“It is a strange concept at face value. An example, though, would be getting a tattoo to mark the end of a difficult period in your life. Some people get them to symbolize personal difficulties or trauma, or to memorialize people they’ve lost. It can be a form of catharsis that helps them process painful emotions, memories, or other stressful feelings.”

Your head tilts as you take the information in. “That’s interesting.”

“Alright.” Megan leans back. “It’s done. Go take a look.”

Spencer follows you to the full length mirror. “Oh, wow,” you breathe out as soon as you see it. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Spencer.” You touch his arm. “What do you think?”

It takes him a few moments to answer because he’s been overcome with emotion. He’s overwhelmed with just how much you love and care for him to have permanently embedded a reminder of him into your skin. “It’s perfect,” he whispers.

“It is,” you agree.

You return to Megan and she takes a few photos of the tattoo, promising to text them to you, then gets started on the aftercare. “You know the drill,” she says, but still gives you the instructions for what to do as the artwork heals. He only barely registers what she’s saying—his eyes are glued to the tattoo.

“Okay, let me get everything switched out and cleaned up, and then we can start on yours, Spencer.”

“Hmm?” He tears his gaze away to find Megan looking at him. “Oh, right. Okay.” He sits off to the side with you while she disposes of supplies, replaces them with new, sterile ones, and wipes everything down.

She works fast—before he knows it, Megan has shaved and cleaned his skin, and has him in front of the mirror as she places the stencil. It takes a few tries to get it just right. He apologizes when she has to print the stencil again, but she waves him off. “It’s your tattoo and it’s going to be on you forever. I want you to be one-hundred percent happy with the placement.”

His nerves spike back up when he’s settled down and all ready to be tattooed. You sit in a chair on the opposite side of him than Megan, and when you offer your hand, he grabs it immediately.

“Breathe, baby,” you say gently. “Try not to tense up too much.”

He does try, but still jumps a little when Megan’s gloved hand touches him. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a little nervous.”

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” she reassures. “I won’t start until you’re ready.”  

“I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay. I’ll start with just one small line.”

It’s a strange sensation, unlike anything he’s felt before, but it’s… not horrible. He’s been scratched by cats in the past, and it feels kind of like that, but hot. There’s the vibrating you had mentioned, too.

“How was that?” Megan asks.

“Not so bad,” he answers honestly.

“That’s great. I’ll keep going then. Settle in. Just let me know if you start feeling funny or if you need a break, alright?” At his nod, she goes to work, and he switches his attention to you. He knows he shouldn’t, that it’ll probably come back to bite him in the ass, but he can’t stop himself from teasing you.

“I don’t know why you were complaining earlier,” he says in his best innocent voice, with his best innocent expression. “It’s not that bad.”

The way your mouth drops open just a little bit is adorable, and so is the noise of disbelief that follows. “Yeah, okay. Tell me that again at the end.”

“I will,” he replies, mentally adding probably not to the sentence.

You roll your eyes and let go of his hand to sort through your things. You give him a lollipop when you find it.

“What’s this for?” Suckers aren’t really his favorite candy.

“Your adrenaline is probably going to drop now that the tattoo has started and I don’t want you to pass out,” you say. “The sugar will help prevent you from getting lightheaded.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

The tattoo goes well overall, he thinks. It’s definitely painful, but like you said, it’s tolerable. He’s certainly felt worse. Near the end, though, he really starts hurting, and a grimace slips across his face.

“She’s almost done,” you reassure. He hasn’t been looking at it, but you have. “Also, what was that you saying earlier?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles. “It’s not even the needle, you know. It’s the paper towels.”

“A lot of people say that,” Megan says. “Just a few more minutes left.”

He spends those last few minutes questioning every decision he’s made in his life that has led him to this moment, and swearing to himself that he’s never going to do this again. But then it’s over and he’s looking at in the mirror, and it’s suddenly like the past five minutes never happened.

Spencer loves it. He absolutely adores it. Not just the art itself, but how it looks on his body and how it’s making him feel.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask, making him jump a little. He’d been so fixated on the tattoo that he didn’t notice you joining him.

He ponders for a moment to find the right words. “I’m beginning to understand why you like doing this so much.”

You grin. “It’s great, huh?”

“It is, yeah. I kind of want to touch it; is that weird?”

“No, but don’t,” you reply. “It’s an open wound.”

“I know.” He looks back at Megan. “This is perfect. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it,” she says. “Thank you for trusting me with your first tattoo.”

When he drags himself away from the mirror, she goes over aftercare with him, and he listens more intently this time. A few things are going to be a little inconvenient, he thinks, but it’s more than worth the trade off.

You take his hand as you leave the shop. “I’m so happy that I got to do that with you.”

He squeezes your hand back. “Me too.”

You reach the car, but before he can move towards the passenger side, you pull him in close. “I love you.”

His free hand comes up to cradle your cheek. “I love you, too.”

You kiss him, soft and sweet. “Happy three years,” you say when you pull back.

“Here’s to three more?” he offers, a little nervous, but mostly hopeful.

Your smile leaves no room for doubt. “I like the sound of that.”

---------------

hit up my inbox if you wanna talk tattoos bc i fucking love them. what do you see spencer getting with his partner?

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​

[rafael-silva]

under the sky and stars: a tarlos fic

When Carlos and TK take a weekend off to go camping, the last thing they were prepared for was their mini vacation getting cut short by the untimely activation of what’s said to be TK’s danger magnet.

*

What starts as a peaceful day is turned on its head when TK is hurt during their hike. Cut off from help and with no cell service, Carlos and TK work together to keep the younger man awake and getting the injury under control. They lean on one another, sharing memories, voicing confessions and finding comfort within each other along the way.

for bad things happen bingo: tarlos + cauterizing a wound

hurt tk strand, worried carlos reyes, major character injury, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional/hurt comfort, injury description, softness, kisses, comfort

11.1k | rated T | on ao3

*****

When Carlos and TK take a weekend off to go camping, the last thing they were prepared for was their mini vacation getting cut short by the untimely activation of what’s said to be TK’s danger magnet.

Because, well, camping in the middle of nature, miles away from the city and with fluctuating cell service…what could possibly go wrong?

This particular camping spot was near and dear to Carlos, one of his all-time favorite locations. He’s frequently visited this very spot countless times with his family growing up, setting up their tents together, Carlos and his sisters looking for firewood while hiking and then building the bonfire, laughing and creating many memories along the way.

It had been a while since Carlos went camping there, mostly due to his busy schedule, juggling hectic shifts and long days, along with some days off, so he can spend as much time with TK as possible.

And once he was reminded of that spot by the memories feature from his photos app, popping up a selfie of the Reyes family from a few years prior on a hike, a thought crossed his mind. A very good thought. And he suddenly couldn’t contain his excitement at the possibility lingering in his mind.

He and TK were cuddling on the couch after a mutual exhausting never-ending day, both of them stumbling into their home within ten minutes of each other, weary to theirs bones. After a quick shared shower, they settled on the couch and into each other’s arms, drawing comfort from one another and watched a movie in comfortable silence.

“Have you gone camping before?” Carlos’s voice sliced through the quiet, his tone soft.

TK takes a moment to think, revisiting his own memories before nodding. “Yeah, a couple of times. When I was younger though, went camping in Upstate New York, once with mom and dad and the other time with just dad,” he replied, slightly intrigued by Carlos’s somewhat random question.

“So, there’s this camping spot,” Carlos had started explaining, running a hand up and down TK’s arm. “I used to go there all the time with my parents and sisters, especially growing up. It was kind of our safe haven, it had quickly became our spot and I was thinking that we could go camping there one weekend. I’d love to show it to you and share it with you,” he expressed.

TK moved so he’d face Carlos instead of having his back against the offer’s chest, and there was much emotion written in his features, his green eyes glued to Carlos’s brown ones.

“That place means a lot to me, and you mean so much to me, TK,” Carlos added. “It’s part of who I am, and I want to share everything that I am with you.”

TK’s eyes remained on Carlos, his expression soft.

“Of course, if you’d want to go camping, that is.”

TK lightly chuckled, nodding and moved closer to Carlos. “I’d love to. I mean, I’m not really big on camping, just because it wasn’t super easy to do while living in the city, but I’d do anything with you. Even if we were going to a random spot, I know I’ll love it. And the fact that that spot means so much to you, of course I’d go with you. I look forward to getting to know that side of you, Carlos Reyes.”

Carlos’s face had broken into a big, bright smile, his eyes twinkling. He returned the tender kiss TK brushes to his lips and leans into the paramedic’s touch when TK cupped Carlos’s cheek.

“Besides,” TK began with they separated, “one of us should know what they’re doing when it comes to camping.”

Carlos had nodded, agreeing. “Plus, we’ve both been working so much and so hard lately, I feel like we’re running on fumes and a break could really help us. And nature is a great healer.”

“Nature and love,” TK added before giving Carlos another kiss.

After managing to take the same weekend off, and Carlos calling his father asking to borrow his truck for the trip, Carlos and TK make a list of everything they need for the three days. They split it between them and each get what they’re responsible for by the agreed time.

The weekend approaches quickly to both their delight and that’s when Carlos and TK find themselves on the road, TK’s road trip playlist blasting through the speakers as Austin disappears in the rearview mirror.

And Carlos, Carlos smiles, stealing a quick glance at TK when they stop at a red light. The younger man is so at ease, leaning back against the headrest and Carlos’s heart swells with even more love for him. TK turns to look at Carlos, an identical smile on his face.

Excitement sizzles in Carlos’s stomach at the thought of creating even more memories with TK during this trip, and at one of his favorite places, too. He already starts to feel better, feeling the tension leave his body. Both he and TK had been looking forward to getting some peace, to recharge their energies and to spend more quality time together.

But TK’s said danger magnet was waiting in the corner, getting ready to strike and to throw them both a painful and unexpected curveball.

They arrive at the camping spot a couple of hours later. Carlos parks the truck at the end of the trail and switches off the ignition, excited to be back to this spot. It’s so beautiful that TK pauses his movement to get out of the car, looking through the window and taking it all in.

Carlos hops out, closing the door behind him and stretches his muscles. Their early start had been in their favor, the sun still hanging high in the sky above them, which tells Carlos they’ll have time to set everything up and walk around for a while before it gets dark, too.

TK follows Carlos, gazing around and the amount of green merging with the blue of the sky and the birds twittering around them takes his breath away.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Carlos says, standing by TK’s side.

TK nods. “Absolutely breathtaking.”

“Come on,” Carlos takes TK’s hand and begins walking further into the tree line. “It’s on foot from here, but it’s not too far in. But be careful,” he warns. “Some of the ground is really slippery and there are a lot of hills. Took a tumble once and sprained my ankle, I do not recommend the experience.”

TK tightens his hold on Carlos’s hand as he leads them through bushes, branches and tree barks, closely following Carlos’s trail.

After about an eight minute walk, they reach a clearing with even, dry ground and large open space.

“Here we are,” Carlos announces.

“Wow,” TK says, tilting his head upwards to look at the tall trees above them. They cast a shadow down at the campsite, but don’t completely obscure the sun, its golden light shining through the branches.

TK can feel the history here, the years it took for these tree to grow and flourish like this, and for the first time, he feels one with nature and he welcomes it. He closes his eyes, the soft wind colliding with his face and he draws in a deep breath, relishing in the fresh, clear air.

“It’s like all your worries wash away when you’re here,” Carlos’s voice brings TK back from his thoughts.

“I feel lighter already,” TK agrees.

But the spell is broken when TK groans and shoos away a mosquito. And Carlos mirrors him when he hears buzzing near his ear.

“Bug spray is in the bag, let’s get everything set up and we can walk around for a bit,” Carlos says.

After sending off texts to their parents that they’ve safely arrived (which had taken some time while they searched for a spot with sufficient cell service), it takes Carlos and TK two trips to bring everything they need from the truck to the campsite. They start with setting up the tent in the middle, and TK being completely out of his zone here, helps when Carlos asks, doing exactly what the officer tells him. Carlos is an expert as he works, his muscles and mind working together, knowing exactly what to do and what goes where, not missing a beat. The tent is set up in record time (based on TK’s knowledge and how often people say it takes forever to set up a tent) and TK wears an impressed expression.

Carlos chuckles at the look on TK’s face. “Learned to set it up during the summer I was fourteen. My father had told me and my sisters that we were setting up our own tents that time. It wasn’t easy, it took a lot of time and more than a few collapses, but eventually, the tent held.”

“Well, practice makes perfect,” TK smiles, planting a kiss to Carlos’s cheek.

“And sweat, a lot of sweat,” Carlos adds.

TK chuckles, opening their cooler and takes hold of Carlos’s reusable water bottle, handing it to him.

“Thank you,” Carlos gratefully accepts the bottle and takes a long swing of the cold water.

They move around in unison, TK retrieving the sleeping bag and undoing the zipper so it’s flat and lays it on the ground inside the tent then covers it with their duvet and places their pillows at the head of the tent.

Outside, Carlos arranges their sitting area, gathering the blankets that have been designated for camping. His mother had left them at his place a couple of years back, for whenever he’d take solo trips. He spreads the blankets around where the fire would be built then grabs the foldable chairs, arranging them behind the blankets.

“We have enough time for a walk before it gets dark,” Carlos says when TK emerges from the tent. “Everything else can be set up when we’re back, and we’ll get wood for the fire, too.”

TK nods. “Sounds wonderful, babe.”

Carlos grabs his compass and map, pocketing both for when he’ll need them and takes TK’s hand, and together, they stride into the endless greenery.

*****

The sun is setting when they return to the campsite, each of them carrying an armful of wood.

“These should last until tomorrow,” Carlos says, dropping the logs near the place for the fire.

TK does the same and awaits Carlos’s instructions.

Carlos kneels down and starts arranging the logs then looks up at TK. “Can you grab me the lighter fluid and matches?”

TK nods and goes to retrieve the items. A chill is starting to set in the air around them at the loss of the sun’s warmth and TK can’t wait to get cozy by the fire. He also grabs his hoodie while he’s at it.

He hands Carlos the medium sized bottle of lighter fluid and watches as his boyfriend pours some over the wood. Once he’s closing the bottle, TK lights a match and drops it over the fluid, the fire immediately igniting.

He slips on his hoodie and settles on one of the blankets, looking over his shoulder at Carlos when he hears rummaging from behind.

He smiles when Carlos shows him the bag of marshmallows and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Camping just isn’t proper camping with marshmallows,” Carlos declares as he sits next to TK, the bag in one hand and slim wooden sticks in the other.

He hands TK the bag, who promptly opens it and accepts a stick from Carlos. They both sear a marshmallow through their sticks and hold it over the open fire.

“Now, there’s an art to roasting marshmallows,” Carlos starts. “To get it crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. You can’t hold it too close to the flame and you have to keep rotating it so its evenly roasted.”

TK nods and does his best, but he pouts when the marshmallow completely burns.

“It’s okay, baby, it takes a few tries to get it right,” Carlos reassures him.

TK eats the burnt marshmallow and shrugs. “Soft on the inside though. Well, more like melty. And hot!”

TK tries again and again, and when his fifth marshmallow is still burnt (not as badly as the first one, but still burnt nonetheless), he shakes his head and laughs.

“And I thought I’d be good at this because I used to roast them over the stove growing up,” TK sighs.

Carlos’s eyebrows travel up his forehead and he’s shaking his head. “Not the same as roasting them over a campfire, definitely not the same,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m learning that the hard way,” TK dramatically sighs again.

“Here,” Carlos hands TK his own stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow. “You should have at least one that’s properly roasted.”

TK lightly elbows Carlos in the stomach and playfully rolls his eyes. “Okay, this is amazing,” he admits after eating the marshmallow.

Carlos smirks. “Besides, like you said earlier, practice makes perfect. So I guess we have no other option than going camping a lot so you can perfect your marshmallow roasting technique.”

“Hmm,” TK hums as he moves his face closer to Carlos’s. “Yeah, I guess that’s our only option,” he whispers.

Carlos smiles as he closes the small distance between them by capturing TK’s lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Carlos tastes a mix of TK and burnt marshmallows, and the combination makes his heart jump in his chest with joy; further proof that Carlos isn’t dreaming, they’re here, together in one of Carlos’s favorite places on the planet. TK easily opens to him and they pour into each other. TK’s free hand goes to the back of Carlos’s head as Carlos’s goes to hold TK’s face.

The kiss slows down, turning into a simple press of lips and they start exchanging small, chaste kisses before separating to catch their breath. They don’t pull back completely though as Carlos rests his forehead against TK’s.

They’re lying on the blanket a little while later, TK cuddled to Carlos’s side, after it was agreed that they’d had enough marshmallows for the time being. Otherwise, they’d get a sugar rush and neither wanted to experience the crash from that. Besides, they still hadn’t eaten the dinner they packed for the night.

Carlos had grabbed his zip up hoodie and slipped it on before lying down, the wind picking up a little and a shiver ran through his body. Once they’re both warm, both by clothes and each other’s presence, silence falls onto them, the leaves rustling around them the only sound as they watch the stars glitter above, vivid against the endless black sky.

“You can never see the stars this clearly in the city,” TK says in a quiet voice.

Carlos nods, not entirely sure if TK means New York or Austin, but he supposes both, because it’s true either way. He had heard about the light pollution in New York and how it obscures the night sky and its beauty, and from his experience living in Austin, the same can be said for the Texan city.

“There’s beauty in every direction you look here, it’s all encompassing. Left, right, up, down…you’re surrounded by it, you’re a part of it. There’s a lake this way,” Carlos points to their left, turning to face TK. “Me and my sisters used to go swimming there, the water is so blue and so clear and it’s the perfect temperature. We can take a dip before leaving, if you want.”

“Oh, but I don’t have my swimming suit,” TK points out.

Carlos doesn’t reply, instead he lifts a suggestive eyebrow as a smirk tugs on his lips.

“Ohhhh,” TK catches on to where Carlos’s head is at, and a blush paints his cheeks.

The nearby fire dances, the flames coloring TK’s skin golden and bringing out the green in his eyes. Carlos winks and the light pink rises up his boyfriend’s face and TK’s lips spread into a soft smile.

“Well, then, I couldn’t refuse that now, could I?” TK wiggles his eyebrows and moves closer to Carlos.

The beauty of the stars is momentarily forgotten as Carlos watches TK, getting lost in his features, taking it all in even though he can draw every detail in his sleep. He feels his heart grow in his chest with the amount of love he feels for the other man, gazing through green gates and into his soul, he’d willingly get lost in those irises for days.

Without a word, Carlos leans in and captures TK’s lips in a soaring kiss, giving TK his all and gladly receiving TK’s as the paramedic wastes no time in reciprocating.

“I’d come here alone, sometimes,” Carlos voices a few minutes after they return to their previous position. “When I was older. Sometimes my family would be busy and wouldn’t be able to make the trip, other times it was unplanned. I’d need to get away for a few days, and I’d find myself here. When things would get hard or overwhelming, this place was always there for me. This place offered me a lot of clarity over the years, opened my eyes to many things. Helped me dig deep into myself and really know who I am. Because here, in the middle of all this beautiful nature, that wasn’t so scary. It was almost like nature was telling me that it’s okay, that whatever happens, it’s all going to be okay, that it’s all just that, natural and organic. And eventually, whenever I needed to make a decision or when I just needed to think, I’d come here.”

TK waits a beat, fingers fidgeting with the zipper of Carlos’s hoodie and then asks a question. “Did you ever come here to find clarity about…me? Or us?”

Carlos is silent for a few moments before nodding. “Yeah, after you got shot,” he swallows, his mind taking him back to that horrific week.

He tightens his hold on TK, unconsciously needing to know that TK is okay, that he’s with him, right here, right now.

Then something clicks in TK’s mind. “When you texted me that you were leaving town for a couple of days, you came here.”

Carlos nods. He had sent that text a week after TK was out of the hospital and recovering at home. He had seen him a couple of times since his discharge, each time his emotions and feelings towards TK growing and bubbling more in his chest. And after making sure TK was really okay and was taken care of by his team, he had decided a trip was needed.

Falling for TK was unexpected, it had taken him by surprise and so did the amount of feelings he’d quickly developed for the other man. He needed to gather his thoughts and to process it all. He thinks back to those couple of days, pacing the ground for what seemed like hours, his mind going in a million different directions. It’s only when he sat down and looked up at this very sky, that he really started seeing everything, truly seeing.

Carlos draws in a deep breath before continuing, looking up at the sky now. “Like I told you that day at the juice bar, seeing you in that hospital bed was very hard, and all these strong feelings I had for you, they really took me over. I’d been out of the dating game for so long when I met you, and I never expected to fall for you as quickly as I did. And although I had felt it blossoming in the days and weeks before you got hurt, I truly realized just how much I felt for you when I found out you got shot. And then when I saw you lying in that hospital bed, that feeling of my heart dropping into my stomach and that pang in my chest,” he pauses, “…it scared me, the strength of the feelings scared me, the thought of losing you and losing everything we could be before we even truly began terrified me,” his voice breaks a little with the last few words.

TK finds Carlos’s hand and gives it a light squeeze.

Carlos recovers and continues. “And then you woke up and got sent home and every time I saw you, the feelings just grew and grew and there was no stopping it, not that I wanted to stop it. But I still didn’t know what we were, and I didn’t want to push you, knowing what you had gone through. I guess I just needed to process it all, it had all jumbled together and I needed to untangle it. So I came here, because this place always helps with that.”

“And what did you realize?” TK carefully asks.

Carlos turns his head once more so he’s looking at TK. “What I knew was true all along, that what I felt for you, all those feelings, all that love, was natural and organic. Cosmic, even. I realized it came from the deepest of places, the brightest and purest of places, it came from the soul, from the bottom of the heart. And that realization felt right, it felt good. I remember smiling then because I felt lighter, I felt like that realization breathed fresh air into my lungs. And I wasn’t scared anymore. I was hopeful. I knew this love was worth fighting for.”

TK is quiet for a while, letting everything Carlos said sink in, and the flickering flames reveal the unshed tears swimming in his eyes. Carlos’s words had been so honest, so vulnerable and it moves TK, fills him with even more love for Carlos.

“So, in a way, this place had brought us together,” TK expresses.

Carlos nods. “Which is one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here.”

“It really means everything, you sharing this place with me,” TK runs his thumb over Carlos’s knuckles. “I also realized what I had known all along that day of the solar storm, after the bus rescue and on the way to the hospital. I was scared, too. Getting into something and starting a relationship was the last thing on my mind when I got to Austin, but that connection to you, that pull between us, it felt right from the very start. I resisted it, though, I did, because I was still dealing with everything that happened in New York. But that day, I realized I wanted to deal with everything with you, with you by my side. I was learning to stand again, I knew that was something I had to do on my own but I wanted you to be there for me to lean on when I needed it. You gave me strength, Carlos, every day, and you continue to. You brought color back into my life and I knew then I wasn’t scared anymore. And you’re right, our love is cosmic and worth fighting for. It’s always under the sky and stars.”

Thinking back to that night, lying on the hood of the Camaro under the Northern Lights, the moment they really gave them a chance and started the journey of everything they would become together, TK smiles.

Carlos makes the connection, as well, mirroring the soft smile. “The sky and stars really do have a way of bringing us closer. Our love being cosmic sounds particularly appropriate.”

A gentle kiss is shared as they move even closer together, gravitating towards each other, always in each other’s orbit.

The tent goes forgotten as they fall asleep under the stars, wrapped in each other’s embrace, blanketed by the comfort of their love.

*****

If TK is distracted by watching Carlos, who’s wearing a tank top and sweat shorts, stride around the campsite while he gets their breakfast ready, well, who can blame him? TK’s eyes find themselves glued to Carlos’s biceps and the way his muscles contract and move under his skin, making TK miss the words Carlos is directing at him.

Carlos pauses, lifting an eyebrow. “TK? Earth to TK?”

“Hm?” TK snaps out of his trance and eyes go to Carlos’s face, which is just as captivating.

Carlos chuckles lightly. “Welcome back.” Then he’s smirking. “Like what you see?”

He gets it, though, knows the power of the tank top. Because he, too, loves it when TK wears his own tank tops, and Carlos finds himself in the same position TK was just in.

A blush crawls up TK’s neck and face as he bites down on his low lip, his eyes roaming over Carlos’s majestic form. He nods after a few moments.

“You’ll do,” TK playfully teases.

“Oh, is that it? I’ll do?” Carlos whispers, his tone a little heavy and low as he takes tentative steps towards his boyfriend, the smirk still drawn on his face.

“Yeah,” TK nods again, his eyes not leaving Carlos’s.

TK smiles against Carlos’s lips when the officer leans in for a kiss and returns it, his body filling up with warmth at their contact.

“Come on,” Carlos says when they pull apart. “We gotta have a good breakfast because we have some exploration ahead of us today. And other activities, too,” Carlos lifts an eyebrow and winks at TK.

They keep up their flirting and playful banter throughout breakfast, and once they’re finished and Carlos had gathered the stuff they’ll need and packed it into his backpack, they start their journey into the woods, Carlos leading with TK close behind.

The first couple of hours go by smoothly. Carlos shows TK a few of the spots he would frequent when he’d visit here, telling him stories along the way and sharing the memories he’s built with his family. He snaps pictures of TK here and there, some while he wasn’t looking, others with TK posing along with a bunch of selfies of them wearing big smiles.

They come to rest at a clearing, deciding to take a break before continuing their hike. Carlos finds a large rock to sit on, taking a few sips of water before his eyes find TK. The other man is roaming around, looking up at the trees and taking it all in. He comes to a halt on an elevation, looking into the distance and doesn’t realize he’s right on the edge of a hill.

Carlos’s face falls a little when he notices where TK’s standing, and he’s about to tell him to take a few steps back when TK himself turns around and starts to move towards him.

Carlos’s newfound relief lasts for only a brief second as he watches TK stumble. He quickly gets to his feet, moving to help steady TK while a little voice at the back of his head supplies slippery mud, but it’s too late.

For a moment it feels like an out of body experience and in an instant, he’s running to TK. It takes a second, but before he reaches him, TK looses his balance and falls, Carlos’s eyes going wide and his heart drops into his knees as it happens.

Carlos freezes, arms stretched out, heart hammering and eyes glued to the space TK occupied a second ago. He was right there, within his reach and then he wasn’t.

The image of the panicked look on TK’s face and his green eyes blown wide with fear will forever be etched in Carlos’s mind.

He swallows and finds himself at the edge a moment later as he looks down. It’s a nasty fall, even though it’s not a drop but a slope, the steep angle surely would have increased TK’s speed as he rolled downhill. The area it’s littered with rocks of all sizes, and TK’s body would most definitely be bruised and battered by the impact against them.

Carlos yells out when he finds his voice. “TK! TK! Hang on! I’m coming for you!”

The panic in his gut starts brewing even more at the lack of a response from TK.

Carlos weighs his options, and a quick survey tells him there’s no other way to get to TK except down this slope. He takes a deep breath and very carefully starts making his way towards where he’ll find TK.

He almost slips a few times during his descend, tree leaves crunching under his hiking boots and his feet sinking into piles of leaves and small bushes. He keeps calling out for TK on his way down, still getting no reply from the other man. Carlos tells himself he has to get a hold on the panic rising in his body, he feels his hands begin to shake and wills them to steady. He needs to be composed to help TK, to get him out of this. TK is relying on him.

That knowledge gives Carlos the strength he needs and he gathers himself, letting out a small sigh of relief when the ground appears to even out before him.

Then his eyes land on TK, who’s sprawled out on his side, his back to Carlos. And he isn’t moving. And Carlos can’t tell if he’s breathing from this angle.

Carlos’s legs move on their own accord and he’s sprinting towards TK, dropping to his knees next to him. His eyes run over TK’s face and head, where he finds a cut under his hairline that’s oozing blood down his face, and his usually neat hair is filled with torn leaves and covered in dust. He watches TK’s chest closely next, and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he spots the rise and fall there, although shallower and shorter than he’d like, but TK is breathing.  

“TK? TK, babe, can you hear me?” Carlos speaks, his voice coated with worry.

With TK still unconscious, Carlos starts doing what he could: check TK over for any visible injuries on the rest of his body.

And he most definitely was not prepared for what he found. He couldn’t stop the sharp gasp that tears from his throat when his eyes land on a large, jagged open wound on TK’s right thigh. There’s blood gushing down his leg and dripping into a puddle beneath the paramedic, a stark crimson staining the rock below.

“Shit, shit,” Carlos mumbles and breaks himself out of his haze.

He knows he shouldn’t move TK until he’s sure there’s no spinal damage, but he also needs to apply pressure in hopes of slowing down the bleeding and the only way to effectively do that is to have TK lying on his back.

Knowing it’s his only option and the best chance TK has in this moment, Carlos very gently and carefully, while supporting TK’s body and carrying his weight, repositions TK and then clamps both hands over the wound and pushes down as hard as he can, putting all his weight into it as he prays that it isn’t the day he loses the love of his life.

He knows deep down it won’t do much good because he can already feel the blood seeping through his fingers. TK’s blood. Carlos’s stomach churns in an unnatural way and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and attempts to get his irregular breathing under control.

It seems, however, that the pressure does achieve something because Carlos is quickly opening his eyes when he hears a sharp painful gasp. The adrenaline, that same small voice at the back of his head supplies once more.

TK is haphazardly moving his head from side to side, eyebrows knitted together with confusion. Carlos easily finds TK’s wide eyes, filled to the brim with panic and fear and does his best in comforting and calming his boyfriend.

“TK, TK, hey, hey, look at me, look at me,” Carlos guides, trying to get TK’s attention.

The erratic movements eventually slow and TK focuses on Carlos through his blurry vision, tears springing into his eyes. He blinks a few times, trying to clear his line of sight sending a couple of tears down the sides of his face.

“Carlos…” TK whimpers through clenched teeth, reaching out for his boyfriend and closing his fist around the material of Carlos’s tank top, holding on with all the strength he could muster.

“I’m right here, baby, right here,” Carlos is quick to reassure him. “Stay with me, TK, hang on.”

“What…what happened?” TK asks when he gathers his breath.

“You fell down a hill, probably slipped on some mud and lost your balance. You were unconscious when I found you and you have a cut on your head and I think you could have a concussion. Can you wiggle your toes?”

After a moment, TK nods, knowing why Carlos is asking.

“Okay, good. But…”

“But?” TK questions and manages to lift himself to look at where Carlos’s eyes had landed.

TK gulps, seeing the wound and the alarming among of blood he had already lost and tries to keep the sizzling panic at bay. He knows panicking won’t help, that he needs to remain calm.

TK groans, pain flaring through his leg and making him a little dizzy.

“I think a piece of wood punctured your thigh and then broke away. I’ve been trying to slow the bleeding but it’s not working very well,” he explains, his voice filled with the panic he’s trying to suppress.

TK is silent for a few moments and Carlos fears he fell back into unconsciousness. But then TK is speaking, clearly having slipped into paramedic mode in those few seconds.

“Okay, we need to make a tourniquet, hopefully that will help slow the bleeding until we get help,” TK says.

Carlos nods, thinking back to what they have in their backpack. His heart drops some more when he realizes they don’t have anything for a tourniquet. Besides, the backpack is up that hill and there’s no way Carlos is leaving TK alone.

Making up his mind, Carlos takes off his tank top and looks to TK for instructions on what to do next.

TK frowns. “What…”

“This is everything we’ve got.”

TK nods, no time or energy for arguing. He already feels weaker and his head is starting to spin. But he evens his labored breathing, not only trying to access his own body for internal injuries but also to be able to properly tell Carlos what to do. He’s not alone, Carlos is here, and they can do this, together.

“Okay, you need to find a strong stick, it needs to be thick so it doesn’t break when it’s twisted to tighten the tourniquet,” TK tells Carlos.

Finding a stick in the woods, should be simple enough, Carlos thinks as he looks around, still in his position and applying pressure to TK’s thigh. Once he spots a stick that could work, he takes hold of TK’s hands and guides them to the wound, pushing them down there.

“I need you to hold pressure while I do this, TK. Can you do that for me?” Carlos asks and once he’s sure TK has complied, he moves to retrieve the stick.

TK gives it his all. He’s scared, and he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to bleed out on this hill in the middle of the woods. He doesn’t want Carlos to have to watch it happen. He doesn’t want to ruin what this place means to Carlos. He doesn’t want to miss out on spending the rest of his life with Carlos. So he fights against the darkness creeping at him from the corners of his eyes and gives it everything he’s got.

But he’s tired, he’s so tired, and his hands momentarily stop working. But a voice reminds him to stay awake, stay awake…

Carlos can tell, that as expected, TK’s strength is faltering by the way more blood is running free down the paramedic’s injured leg. So he does his best to keep TK awake and talking until the tourniquet can take over in controlling the bleeding.

“Hey, TK, stay with me,” Carlos pleads. “Tell me, what’s next?”

TK nods. “Loop…loop the shirt above the wound and then place the stick over the loop and tie a knot,” his voice trails off.

Carlos follows TK’s instructions, his hands working quickly to do as TK says.

“Then…rotate it and the knot is going to tighten,” TK continues using a shaky breath. “It should help control the bleeding.”

“Okay, you ready?” Carlos asks, his worry filled eyes moving to TK’s face, knowing how much tourniquets hurt when they’re applied.

TK draws in a breath and nods.

“Okay, here we go,” Carlos starts twisting the stick and his heart clenches and shatters some more at hearing the throaty and pained moans that TK lets out.

The younger man’s eyes are squeezed shut, face crunching up in agony as the groans keep spilling from his mouth.

It works, and Carlos can see the bleeding is substantially slowing down.

“It’s working, it’s working,” Carlos sighs, closing his eyes for a few moments and taking in a deep breath, his shoulders slumping forward.  

And now it’s time to figure out where they ended up and how to get back to the campsite, into the truck and to the hospital as fast as they can. Carlos knows the tourniquet isn’t a permanent solution and he’s worried about infection setting in.

He fishes his phone from his pocket and prays for even one bar of service, but disappointment settles in his stomach at the words no service glaring at him from the top of his screen.  

He sighs, turning back to TK.

“Hey, TK, still with me, baby?”

TK gives him a weak nod.

“Listen, I have to go back up to get the backpack, you need to hydrate and the map and compass will help us get back to camp,” Carlos explains, hating that he has to leave TK. “I need you to keep holding the tourniquet in place, to make sure it doesn’t get undone. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“Be…careful,” TK replies, closing his hand over the stick when Carlos places it there.

“I will be,” Carlos responds and leans down to brush a kiss to TK’s forehead.

It takes every inch of strength Carlos has to pull away.

“I’ll be right back, baby.”

Carlos rushes back up the hill, trying to be as quick but as efficient and safe as he possibly can, not wanting to leave TK alone for long. He faces some difficulty climbing up but manages to avoid slips and falls.

He’s panting when he finally makes it to the top, grabbing a hold of the backpack and then stops for a second. He pulls his phone out again, praying for service and rejoices at the one bar of service he finds.

He puts the phone to his ear and his heart thumps in his chest as he waits for it to connect. After what feels like an eternity, it starts ringing, and another lifetime after that, Owen picks up.

“Owen?” Carlos speaks, his voice tight. “Owen, can you hear me?”

“Carlos?” Owen replies but his voice is so far away.

“Owen, we need help,” Carlos continues, praying that Owen can hear him over the line scratching between the words.

“Carlos—you’re breaking—can’t—”

Then the lines goes dead.

A glance at his phone tells Carlos the one much-needed bar of service is gone.

“Damn it,” Carlos growls with frustration, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

He’s back at TK’s side a few minutes later, and finds his boyfriend barely holding onto consciousness.

“Hey, TK, I’m back,” Carlos announces, kneeling next to TK once more.

He notices that TK’s hold on the tourniquet has loosened a bit so he tightens the knot to control the bleeding again and his heart sinks at the almost lack of response from TK.

Shock, that voice in his head speaks again. He needs to get TK out of here right this moment.

“TK, you with me?” Carlos says as he digs out the compass and map.

TK mumbles something in return.

“Good, stay with me, baby. Didn’t I tell you that I don’t recommend tumbling down a hill? You had to go and try it yourself, huh,” he attempts to lighten the mood with their familiar playful banter but doesn’t quite succeed, his voice coated with fear and worry.

“Take it up with that hill,” TK murmurs back.

A short wet chuckle escapes Carlos, at least TK is doing his best to reciprocate. It’s a small victory in the battle to keep TK awake.

Carlos swallows before continuing, “I almost managed to get through to your dad on the phone,” he says, hoping to keep TK engaged until he figures out how to get back to the campsite. “It was only one bar, though, and it cut off before he could properly hear me.”

He feels his own disappointment mirrored back at him from TK when the younger man frowns.

“Okay,” Carlos nods, getting their bearings and finding the direction they need to move in. “We need to head west, and if we stay on this trail, it should lead us back to camp.”

Carlos moves so he’s behind TK to help him sit up. He places his hands below TK’s shoulders and very slowly and gently starts pushing him up. TK tries his best to help with his weight, but it’s no use, all his energy has been drained. With a hand still steading TK, Carlos reaches his other into the backpack and pulls out a water bottle.

“Here, you need to drink,” he hands it to TK.

TK accepts it with shaky hands and lifts the bottle to his mouth after popping the cap open, taking a few short sips.

“Ready to get up?”

“I’ll try,” TK replies, his voice hoarse.

“I got you,” Carlos promises.

Looping TK’s arm around his shoulder for a better hold on him, Carlos pushes himself up, taking TK with him. TK groans as soon as he’s standing still, closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness takes over and pain starts pulsing up and down his injured leg.

“No, no,” TK shakes his head. “It hurts.”

Carlos glances down and curses. Just the mere movement of TK standing up has caused more blood to pour out of his wound, and he knows more movement will dislodge the tourniquet even more.

Carlos shoulders the bag and then wraps an arm around TK’s waist, pulling him towards him.

“TK, I’m gonna need you to put all your weight on me, and absolutely no weight on that leg, okay? I’m going to get you out of here.”

TK distributes his weight on his good leg and on Carlos, dragging his injured leg as he pretty much hops along the way Carlos leads them.

“We’re not that far from camp,” Carlos pants. “I’ll carry you there if I have to.”

And he does. As soon as TK grows even weaker in Carlos’s grip around the halfway mark, the younger man’s muscles deflating, he does exactly that and carries TK the rest of the way.

Once they finally arrive at the site, Carlos carefully lowers TK down on a blanket near the extinguished campfire. He’s about to move to collect their important things when TK’s hand wraps around his wrist and stops him.

“Carlos,” TK heaves. “Carlos, we…we have to stop the bleeding.”

“The tourniquet is in place, I’ll make sure it stays that way…”

But TK is shaking his head. “It didn’t completely stop the blood, even when it was first applied,” he swallows. “Movement will cause more bleeding…and already lost too much blood…nearest hospital is a few hours away, can’t wait.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Carlos asks, the panic in his voice breaking through.

TK takes a deep breath before answering. “Cauterize it.”

It takes a moment for that to sink in and then Carlos’s eyes are going wide. “What? You mean, you want…”

“Need. I need you to do it, babe.”

“What? No, no, TK, I can’t—I can’t do that,” Carlos vigorously shakes his head, eyebrows drawn together. “There has to be something else, another way—”

“There isn’t,” TK matter of factly responds. “That is the only way.”

“No, TK, I…” Carlos’s voice breaks.

“Hey, hey,” TK reaches his arm out to Carlos. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll talk you through it.”

Carlos moves so he’s in TK’s reach and takes his hand. He knows there’s no time to argue—that there’s no need to argue. He has to do this to save TK. TK trusts him and needs him to do this. And even though Carlos is scared out of his skin, he knows what needs to be done. Knows TK needs him now more than ever. He pushes his fear down and wills his heart to calm, ready to do whatever it takes to save the man who has saved him.

Carlos takes a deep breath and nods, sniffing. “What do you need me to do?”

“Need to get the fire going and grab one of the kitchen knives we packed…”

*****

TK slumps backwards, working on catching his breath as his hands go to wipe the tears that had streaked down his face during the agonizing procedure. Carlos is almost done wrapping TK’s thigh with a sterile bandage from the first aid kit after cauterizing it. TK feels Carlos’s lips against his forehead a few moments later.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Carlos whispers against TK’s skin, heart in pieces at the pain TK had just gone through.

“You did everything right, babe,” TK reassures Carlos with a quivering breath. “I knew it was going to hurt.”

“Here,” Carlos hands TK his water bottle. “Drink some more water while I gather our important things and we’ll be on the road soon.”

“There’s time to pack everything,” TK says. “I’m okay.”

Carlos studies TK for a moment. “Are you sure?”

TK nods.

Carlos throws on the first t-shirt he finds and makes quick work of taking down the tent and gathering their stuff. He haphazardly piles everything into the back of the truck, not bothering to pack anything properly. As long as everything is secure, that will do.

Less than ten minutes later sees Carlos helping TK into the passenger seat then getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He sighs when he sees there’s still no service and TK can read the tension sitting in Carlos’s shoulders and in his squared jaw.

“Carlos, babe, I’m okay, the worst is over,” TK holds Carlos’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

Carlos turns to look at TK, taking in his pale complexion and clammy skin. His expression morphs into one of heartbreak and worry. “You can still get an infection, you could still have a concussion,” his eyes travel to the cut on TK’s head. “And there’s no telling what kind of damage that fall did to you internally.”

“All things we’ll deal with one at a time,” TK says calmly, although he wouldn’t be able to speak any louder even if he wanted to. “Take a breath, baby, it’s okay.”

Carlos takes a few moments to gather himself, preparing himself to drive and getting his nerves under control. Once he’s ready, he shifts the gear into drive and they start moving.

“Just don’t fall asleep on me, okay?” Carlos tells TK, his focus on the road.

“Okay,” TK replies.

“Play music if you want, and can you keep an eye on the service bars? We’ll call your dad first chance we get.”

TK opts to play a calmer playlist than the one they listened to on their way to the campsite. This playlist helps to relax him, which in this situation may not be the best of things, but TK also knows that Carlos needs to relax too, and upbeat and loud music will most definitely have the opposite effect on him. So TK settles for it, and pushes past the wave of sleepiness it cloaks over him.

The world passes by in a blur as TK stares out the window and replies to Carlos when the officer makes sure he’s still awake.

“There’s two bars,” TK says when he checks for service again, immediately calling his dad, his phone connected to the car’s bluetooth.

Owen picks up after a few rings. “TK! It’s good to hear from you, Carlos tried calling a bit ago but we got disconnected.”

It’s Carlos who replies to him. “Owen.”

The fire captain immediately picks up on Carlos’s shaky voice. “Carlos, what’s going on?”

“We’re on the way back, TK got hurt on a hike. He’s doing okay now but we’re going straight to the hospital,” Carlos explains.

Owen draws in a deep breath and needing to hear TK’s voice, he calls for him. “TK, son?”

“Hey, dad,” TK replies weakly. “I’m okay.”

“Everything is going to be fine. Which hospital are you going to and how long until you arrive?”

“West Park Memorial is going to be the closest and we’re about an hour away,” Carlos responds.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there. Be careful on the road, please.”

“Will do,” Carlos promises.

“I’m so tried,” TK mumbles after they hang up with Owen, shifting in his seat.

“I know, baby,” Carlos replies without taking his eyes off the road. “But I need you to stay awake for me, we’re almost there.”

TK manages to stay awake until they’re ten minutes away from their destination. Carlos calls for him but he doesn’t answer, giving into the impending darkness that’s been threatening to take over for hours now.

Carlos feels the panic stirring in his gut when TK doesn’t respond, doesn’t move.

“TK, baby, you gotta stay awake,” Carlos tries with no success. “TK, please,” he then uses a hand to take hold of TK’s and realizes with a pang in his chest that TK’s skin has lost some of its warmth.

“Shit,” Carlos curses, his own body and face heating up. “TK, you have to wake up, babe.”

The following ten minutes were some of the longest of Carlos’s life. The further he drives, the farther the hospital got, or so it seemed. After what felt like three eternities, the hospital finally comes into view and he honks a few times as he drives up the ramp leading to the ER entrance.

A doctor and a couple of nurses emerge with a gurney and Carlos jumps out and moves around the truck to open the passenger door.

“We were camping and he fell down a hill and cut open his thigh, he was losing a lot of blood and the tourniquet wasn’t stopping the bleeding completely. He’s a paramedic with the 126 and said we had to cauterize it so I did,” he explains. “He also might have a concussion from the fall. And he can’t be given opioid-based medication.”

The doctor nods while the nurses lift TK from the car and onto the gurney. “How long ago?”

“A few hours,” Carlos replies. “He lost consciousness about ten minutes ago.”

“Okay, we got him now,” the doctor reassures Carlos while performing initial tests on TK. “I need you to park the truck and then fill out some forms while we run a few tests. I’ll leave word at the ER front desk. What’s his name?”

“TK Strand.”

“He’s in good hands,” she nods before retreating through the sliding doors.

Carlos watches as they wheel TK into the hospital, the doctor giving orders as they moved. He starts to feel his own knees growing weaker as TK disappears down the hall and the doors slide shut. It feels like a part of his heart has just been torn from him.

He repeats he’s going to be okay over and over in his head as he climbs back into the truck and until he’s striding into the ER, a mantra to keep him calm.

“Hi, I was told I need to fill some forms for TK Strand. I just brought him in,” he says to the charge nurse at the front desk.

She nods and hands him a clipboard with a pen attached. “What’s your relation to the patient?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Carlos replies. “And I’m his emergency contact.”

She gives him a soft smile. “They took him into an exam room to check him over and to run some standard tests. I’ll have someone take you to him once you fill out the forms.”

Carlos nods and begins filling out the empty spaces.

He’s lead to TK ten minutes later, following the nurse to where TK is being examined. She stops in front of a closed door and turns to Carlos.

“He’s right through there, his results should be in soon,” she informs him. “Just press the call button if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Carlos nods and slowly opens the door as she walks away.

And he could cry tears of joy when he’s met with hazy green eyes once he steps into the room.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos softly breathes, relaxing a little at seeing TK awake.

“Hi, baby,” TK replies, a small smile forming on his face.

Carlos is by TK’s bedside in three strides, taking his boyfriend’s hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I’m glad to see you awake,” Carlos says. “You gave me quite the scare.”

TK winces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know. It’s okay, baby, I’m just worried about you,” Carlos runs his thumb over TK’s skin that thankfully now feels a little warmer than earlier, courtesy of the IV fluids TK’s been given. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, a little out of it and tired, but the fluids are helping,” TK replies.

Carlos’s response to that is interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket.

“Hey, Owen,” Carlos answers.

“Carlos, I tried calling TK but it went to voicemail,” Owen responds.

Carlos can tell that he’s power walking by the way his voice wavers a little. “We forgot it in the car. We’re in the ER.”

“I’m walking in now. Which room are you boys in?”

“Oh,” Carlos pauses, realizing he’s not exactly sure which way he was lead. He must have zoned out then, he thinks. “Um, ask for TK at the front desk, a nurse will show you the way.”

“Okay,” Owen replies. “I’ll be right there.”

The door is pushed open a few minutes later, revealing a worried Owen, his face crunched up in concern. He breaths a sigh of relief when he sees TK awake but his eyes still radiate the fear bubbling in his chest at his son, once again, landing in the hospital.

His eyes move from TK to Carlos as he steps into the room, placing a hand on Carlos’s shoulder and squeezing there before moving to TK’s side.

“Hey, son,” Owen gives him a small smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, a little better now,” TK replies after clearing is throat.

Owen’s eyes survey TK, noticing the butterfly bandage on his forehead and then his eyes widen when he spots the bandage on TK’s thigh.

Turning to Carlos, he asks, “what happened?”

“He took a tumble down a hill, he lost his balance, most likely on wet mud. He rolled down and his thigh probably got cut by a wooden stick or log. We tried a tourniquet but it didn’t hold well, so we…” Carlos pauses, his eyes moving to TK then back to Owen. “We had to cauterize it.”

Owen’s eyes go impossibly wide at that, digesting everything Carlos had said. “It was that bad?”

Before Carlos can reply, the door is opened and the doctor walks in.

“Doctor, this is Owen, TK’s father,” Carlos introduces. “I was just telling him what happened.”

Owen extends his arm to shake her hand. “How’s TK doing?”

“As well as expected,” she replies. “Any headache, nausea or double vision, TK?”

“No, just a little hazy and feeling a bit out of it.”

“That’s to be expected, I don’t think you have a concussion but I’m going to take you to get scans on your head and stomach to make sure everything is clear.”

TK is being wheeled out by a couple of nurses a few minutes later, but not before Carlos brushes a kiss to his forehead.

Owen and Carlos are sitting in silence when the officer’s voice cuts through it.

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault,” Carlos sighs, hands fidgeting with each other.

“What are you talking about?” Owen frowns.

“TK’s fall. I know the place, I know how an area can appear stable but it isn’t, I learned that the hard way but I never had a fall this bad. And the blood, he was bleeding so much when I found him and…” Carlos trails off, drawing in a shaky breath. “For a moment, I thought we weren’t getting out of there. For a moment, I thought I was going to lose him.”

“Hey, Carlos, look at me,” Owen says.

Carlos slowly lifts his gaze from the floor to meet Owen’s.

“This wasn’t your fault, this was an accident. Don’t blame yourself for what happened. And you didn’t lose him. You got him out of there.”

“I just keep thinking if I had maybe said something a moment earlier…I wouldn’t have had to…it was so hard to do that. I was terrified,” Carlos admits, remembering how his heart hammered against his ribcage during the procedure. “And seeing the amount of pain TK was in…”

Owen places his hand on the back of Carlos’s neck and gives him a supportive squeeze there.

“Listen to me,” Owen says after a moment. “You did everything you could for TK, you took care of him, you pushed through your fear for him, you got him here…you did everything right,” Owen echos TK’s words. “You saved his life, Carlos.”

Carlos swallows and sniffs. “I’d do anything to make sure he’s okay.”

“I know,” Owen nods. “And I’m so incredibly grateful for that. He’s going to be fine, you both will be.”

Carlos knows there’s more than a few nightmares lingering ahead in the wake of TK’s injury, but as long as they’ve got each other, they will be okay. He just needs to know that the worst is truly over.

TK is brought back into the room twenty minutes later, Carlos and Owen getting to their feet as he’s settled in again by the nurses.

Owen sits on the chair while Carlos sits on the edge of the bed, taking TK’s hand.

“I’m okay,” TK gives his boyfriend and father a smile.

Carlos nods, returning the smile through unshed tears, the weight of his conversation with Owen still heavy on his bones.

The doctor appears half an hour later, holding a few files.

“The good news is that all the scans are clear, no head or internal injuries. But I’d like to admit TK for observation, so we can keep a close look on the wound for a couple of days and watch out for an infection,” she explains.

“Whatever you think is best, doctor,” Owen nods.

“Alright then,” the doctor nods. “I’ll get the paperwork started and have TK moved to a room upstairs shortly.”

TK knows it’s for the best, because he honestly feels like crap and doesn’t want him and Carlos to deal with an infection at home, but he can’t help the groan he pushes out.

“It’s okay, babe,” Carlos reassures him, cupping his cheek. “Just to make sure everything is alright, only for a few days.”

TK nods, leaning into Carlos’s touch, the officer grounding him.

*****

They’re thrown another curveball when TK develops a fever overnight.

A cot was set for Carlos in TK’s room while Owen had gone home, making Carlos promise to call or text if anything changes. The officer was awake when TK’s fever was discovered by a nurse. He had to inform Owen with a hastily sent text while keeping up with what the nurse was saying, writing it out in the message. He watched as the nurse administers antibiotics into TK’s IV line and starts him on some medications to reduce the fever and clear out the infection.

TK stirs in bed, the fever taking a toll on his body and making him uncomfortable. He groans and peels his eyelids open to the sunlight gently streaming in through the blinds.

Turning his head to the side, his momentarily blurry vision clears to reveal Judd in the chair by his bedside.

“Judd,” TK whispers, his voice hoarse.

“Hey, brother,” Judd smiles. “Do you want some water?”

TK nods and takes a few sips out of the straw when Judd holds the cup for him.

“He’s getting coffee,” Judd says without TK needing to ask, knowing what’s on the younger man’s mind by the way his eyes darted around the room. “Looked like he needed it, too.”

TK nods. “When did you get here?”

“A while ago, sat with Carlos for a bit. Your dad called this morning and told me what happened and I wanted to see how you’re doing,” Judd gently pats TK’s shoulder. “You’ve been in and out for a while.”

“Yeah,” TK clears his throat. “This fever is really kicking my ass.”

“I, uh, you had me worried there for a second when I heard,” Judd sighs.

“I’m sorry, it was a freak accident. I was scared, too but I’m okay, Carlos took great care of me.”

Judd nods. “You’ll be better in no time, brother,” he reassures him. “Get some more rest,” he adds, seeing the way TK’s eyes drift close. “Your man will be back when you wake up.”

True to Judd’s word, Carlos is by TK’s side the next time he opens his eyes.

“Hi, baby,” Carlos smiles when he sees TK awake. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” TK replies, his body feeling more at ease. “You look better, too,” he points out, taking in Carlos’s appearance.

Carlos nods. “Knowing you’re getting better helped. Your fever decreased and the doctor thinks it will break soon. And they’ve been monitoring your wound and changing the dressing and it looks better, too. They think the infection will clear out by tomorrow.”

“And I’ll go home?”

“And you’ll come home,” Carlos confirms with a smile, carding his fingers through TK’s hair.

TK feels lighter at Carlos’s words, feeling that the worst is truly over now.

“Thank you, ‘Los. You literally carried me and put me back together.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

TK stays silent, knowing there’s more on Carlos’s tongue.

“It just…it felt like you were slipping away from me and…I was so scared,” Carlos closes his eyes and unshed tears shimmer when he opens them a moment later.

“You helped me hold on, Carlos, you gave me strength. And I knew it was going to be okay because you were by my side. I know what I asked wasn’t easy and I know it will take its toll but you did it. You saved me. And I’ll always fight to come back to you,” TK vows.

“I’ll always be right here,” Carlos vows back, brushing a kiss to TK’s temple. “Oh, and mom and dad send their love and well wishes. They were really worried but I told them everything is looking up now. Mom made me promise that we’ll go over for lunch as soon as you’re well enough. She’s probably setting the menu now.”

TK chuckles. “I’d love that. It shouldn’t be too long, though, I’ll be taking some antibiotics for a while and my thigh will be sore but only for a couple of weeks. It will scar, but…”

“Hey,” Carlos squeezes TK’s hands. “Scars show what you overcame, what you survived.”

“What we overcame and survived,” TK corrects. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Carlos leans in, resting his forehead against TK’s and takes in everything that is TK. Carlos easily lets himself get lost in TK’s scent, a reminder that TK is here and that he’s okay.

And seeing TK sitting up and talking, having regained most of his color now, Carlos can finally properly breathe again since watching TK fall.

*****

When TK suggested they go camping again, Carlos was hesitant at first, his once beloved spot now tainted with the memories of TK getting hurt. But TK reminds him of what that place means to him, not wanting the memory of the accident to be Carlos’s most recent association with the spot. He tells him that going back can help them both, reminds him of the strength of his connection to that campsite and Carlos eventually agrees.

And when they return to the campsite a couple of months later, TK is proven right, in more ways than one.

They go back after TK has fully recovered and Carlos no longer jolts up awake in the middle of the night, covered in a layer of sweat, heaving with TK’s yelled name on his lips.

Carlos is standing by the water, enjoying the cool breeze and the warmth of the sun on his skin when a pair of arms wrap around him from behind and hold him close. He smiles, leaning back into TK’s chest and rests his head against the younger man’s shoulder.

“Still as beautiful as ever,” TK whispers against Carlos’s ear.

Carlos nods. Still, however, a part of him can’t fully enjoy it anymore, the memories of TK’s accident too evident in his mind.

With a kiss planted to Carlos’s temple, TK pulls back and the officer turns to follow a few moments after.

And when his eyes land on TK, who’s down on one knee in front of him, Carlos draws in a deep breath while his eyes go wide.

Tears spring to Carlos’s brown eyes as TK opens the red velvet box in his hands, revealing a stunning silver ring sitting inside.

And the identical bright specks glittering in their eyes when TK asks and Carlos answers with, yes, a million times yes and the lighting surging through their bodies at the kiss that follows…

Well, their love is cosmic, after all.

And now, standing by the lake Carlos had painted for TK before, wrapped in each other’s embrace, they both start to fully heal, souls uplifting, their hearts lightening and beating as one.

With that, this place no longer carries the scars of almost losing TK and everything they are and could be, but now serves as a reminder of the strength of their love, mending the scars and holding the promise of a brighter future ahead.

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Chapter 15- Leave No One Behind...

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: The magic thing about home is that it feel good to leave, and it feels even better to come back…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Word Count- 8k

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 14

It was way past dinner time when Ari and Hannah got back to the resort. Fortunately, most of the guests had already called it a night and only a few remained on the beach enjoying the clear starry night and gentle sea breeze. Some of the staff were busy cleaning and clearing the dining area and the kitchen, so Ari asked the team to gather in the reception area as simply put, they had no time to waste.

The team shared concerned glances as Ari, with Hannah's help and assistance at some points, briefed them on the plan. He paced back and forth only stopping to check everyone was following him, and once he had finished explaining and everyone confirmed they had understood what they had to do, it was all systems go.

They needed to wait until all the guests were in bed and not a voice could be heard in the resort before they moved the refugees. Ari knew it cut their window of time down even more and, though it wasn't an ideal situation, he was painfully aware that they couldn't afford getting caught. It had already been hard enough for them to keep more than four hundred people away from suspicious ears and prying eyes and by rushing things he could blow all their hard work. But, ever true to his own nature, he was getting more nervous by the minute, his anxiety heightened by the fact that there was nothing he could do but wait. 

He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray on his office desk as his eyes roamed the room and took a deep breath, his fingers running through his hair. He needed to focus on what he had to do. The worrying about their safety and that of the refugees they had to smuggle from the country would have to be done later. Right now it was urgent that they got everything ready to abandon the resort in such a way that when Ahmed undoubtedly came looking once more, it appeared they’d done a flit due to a sudden “entrepreneurial vision” rather than it being a matter of "life or death".

The team were running around as sneaky and stealthily as possible, destroying anything that was too incriminating. Lighting a big fire to burn everything to ashes was not an option, the smoke would alert too many people and they also couldn’t waste the time it would require to ensure that everything burnt sufficiently in the small bonfire they occasionally had on the beach. Burying all incriminating evidence was out of the question- it was risky and sloppy too since no matter how deep you dug down on a sandy beach, it would eventually come back to the surface again. In the end, Max saved the day by using one of his suitcases as an improvised treasure chest into which they crammed everything they needed to dispose of. Jake and Sammy then added some extra heavy rocks which made sure it sank when they threw it overboard from one of their diving boats a fair way away from the shore.

Meanwhile, Hannah headed to her and Ari's hut to sweep the place. She was well aware she didn’t have the time or room to take anything that she couldn't put in her pockets or in Ari's small knapsack. She was going through the drawers on her bedside table when she found a stack of Polaroids, most of which dated from two years before when Sammy got her the camera. They were too incriminating to leave behind and, from a selfish point of view, she didn't want to leave them either.

She looked around as she stuck the set of polaroids in the back pocket of her jeans. As she took the now so familiar hut in for the last time, she felt a lump in her throat and her right hand instinctively flew to her firefly pendant. The last few years of her life passed in front of her eyes in a whirlwind. She had known from the moment Ari had set foot in the clinic that morning that it would mean a turning point in her day to day life, his presence around her always did, but what she had never suspected in a million years was the extent in which her life would change.

If someone had told her that day at the clinic, that she would embark on a secret mission to a dangerous African country with the man who had broken her heart all those years before, she would have told them to fuck off. But here she was two years later, about to leave that dangerous country and unofficially engaged to that very same man.

Her Lobo.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she took a deep breath and had turned to leave the room when in the corner of her eye she spotted a photo stuck to the mirror that she had very nearly missed. She headed over to grab it looking down at the image of her, Ari and Simon on the beach. She smiled fondly at the memory of that day. Simon had been sick with food poisoning the previous night and they had spent almost all afternoon on the beach with him, trying to stop him eating anything he could steal from the kitchen, or rather to prevent Max from feeding him contraband…

And then it dawned on her, she was going to have to leave Simon behind.

Hannah felt a pang in her heart at the mere thought of it. Her throat suddenly felt like it was closing and tears began to well in her eyes. Simon had been her first support. Even when she hadn't had Ari, she had Simon. The dog had found her when she needed him the most and he had been her shadow ever since. It broke her heart to think what would happen to him when they were gone.

She wiped her face as she tried to rationalise it. She knew Simon had survived many years before her, but he now was her baby, and she couldn't help but worry. With a sniff, she took a deep breath, and blinked back more tears as she told herself she needed to be realistic. She was wasting time, and they had important stuff to do. So, with a final swallow, she hastily put the polaroid in her pocket, together with the other ones and headed out onto the beach without so much as a glance back at the hut.

When she got to the reception area, she found Ari there, checking through a filing cabinet. He looked up when he heard footsteps and smiled softly at her, but his smile slid into a frown almost instantly, as he could clearly see she had been crying. Hannah couldn't trust herself to speak, she knew her voice would break the moment Ari asked what was wrong, so she simply nodded and handed him the polaroids to put in his bag.

"Come here." Ari told her once his hands were free again, pulling her to him and holding her tight. "You've been crying, firefly." He whispered in her hair. But Hannah just sniffed in response. "I promise you I'm going to get us home safely, Han."

"But not Simon." She whispered and at her words she felt Ari's shoulders slump slightly.

"Yeah, I know." Ari sighed. "I don't want to leave him either but, well, the staff all love him. We'll leave him in the kitchen with food and water and they'll take care of him, sweetheart."

Hannah nodded. "I know..." and then her voice trailed off and she started crying again. She knew Ari was right but it was not like the staff could write to them back home telling them Simon was doing okay, sending them the occasional photo of the dog.

Ari tightened his hold of her and started rubbing her back in an attempt to sooth her grief a little bit and at that point there was a voice in the doorway. Hannah pulled away, hastily wiping her face.

"Sorry, but, we got one of the women in the huts and she doesn’t look great Hannah, I don’t know if it's nerves or something…" Rachel explained, almost apologetically.

"Yeah, I’ll erm, come now." Hannah nodded, before looking at Ari who gave her a soft smile.

Ari watched her go and sighed, taking a glance around before heading outside too. He found Max and told him to start loading up, there was no time to waste. As he watched Max nod and disappear behind the trucks and into the night, Ari remembered he had left his bag in the office by the reception desk. He headed back inside, grabbed it, and shut the office door behind him, knowing he wasn't going to open it again.

He made his way down the beach a little. More as a way of saying goodbye than to make sure there were no guests still around. But he knew it had been a mistake the moment he set his eyes on the star lit ocean surface and a wave of nostalgia hit him, crashing over his head like the very surf he was watching had done many times over the past few years.

Ari lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. He was counting the minutes till he could finally leave the resort and that fucking country for good. But, at the same time there was something else there. A nagging, gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that was fighting with his sense of duty and his survival instinct. As he stood there he suddenly realised that the feeling was sadness. He was sad to be leaving, and he knew why- because this was the last mission he would ever run.  

And it had all been his. 

Ari had spent most of his life as an agent following orders and running his bosses, mainly Ethan's, missions, and even though Ari Levinson was known for not sticking to plan and following his instincts when making last minute, even debatable, decisions, he still had to follow his superior guidelines and do as told, for the most part. But this one had been different. He had designed it from scratch, still amazed at how the idea had come to him. He had matured it and watched it grow into something worth selling to Ethan, Isaacs and eventually Weiss. Damn, he had even chosen and recruited the agents he wanted for the mission. Including her. Ari smiled fondly at the memory of his Firefly’s surprised face at the clinic that morning, "Fuck me." was the only thing she had been able to say when she saw him in that examination room.

Ari chuckled softly as he started his way back to the main building. Whilst it had been a while, he still remembered all the expletives Sammy had thrown at him that day too. And then he was pulled out from his memories by the sound of hushed but hectic voices at the front of the hotel as he approached.

He hurried round to find the team gathered near the trucks, loading them with the refugees. He stabbed his cigarette on the floor and started directing a few refugees himself until Max, Sammy and Hannah approached him.

"We've got a problem." A weary eyed Max announced. "There's no way we're all going to fit in the two trucks.”

"There's too many people." Hannah added.

Ari frowned. "Shit. Fuck!" He hissed, looking around frantically for a way out.

And then his eyes landed on the solution.

"Are you serious? A Sudanese tour bus?" Jake, who had spotted what Ari was looking at, asked in disbelief.

Max laughed softly, visibly amused at another of his boss tricks to save his neck again, and looked at Hannah who was grinning and shaking her head as she mused. “You little shit."

Ari looked at her, his brow raised, before his eyes flicked back to the refugees. Hundreds of them, but only a fraction of the amount they’d saved to date…

"Start loading them up. I gotta grab something." He suddenly ordered, as he turned to leave, pausing as Hannah caught his arm.

"Where are you going?" She enquired nervously. "Ari?"

"I'll be right back.” He assured her. “Get on the bus."

He didn't look back and ran inside. In a typical Ari Levinson fashion, he had just decided he wanted to take something with him, a reminder of their time and work there, a reminder of what exactly they had accomplished. He stood by the desk and reached up to the Satisfied Guest board which hung on the wall, removing the shells which bore the total number of refugees that had safely left the Sudan shore. Unhooking it from the wall, he walked back round the desk and paused to take a last look around, into the dining area.

Why was it so difficult to say goodbye?

His eyes then glanced towards the door at the back of the room which led to the kitchen and he signed, knowing what, or who was in there. He bit his lip, pondering for a few seconds, before he let out a groan. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t leave him.  

“Ethan’s gonna kill me,” he muttered as he ran to the kitchen door and jerked it open. “Come on, Si.” He whispered, panting slightly with exertion and the adrenaline now flooding his system. The dog looked up from where he had been napping. “Time to go, buddy.” Ari insisted.

Simon got to his feet, stretching as he yawned. 

“Yeah, we’re on a schedule, come on.” Ari hurried the dog as he rolled his eyes. Simon simply stared up at him as he talked and wagged his tail, before trotting out of the door. Ari then bent down to pick him up under his spare arm and hurried towards the bus.

 Rachel, who was in the driving seat, looked at him as he climbed up the steps, the painted wooden board under one arm, dog under the other. She snorted as he set Simon down on the floor and he simply shrugged and then smiled as Hannah’s little gasp hit his ears from where she was stood, a little further down the aisle of the bus. Simon scooted off towards her as Ari looked back at Rachel.

"Let's go" 

Rachel nodded at Ari's instruction and, as she fired up the engine Hannah reached him, Simon in her arms, eyes full of tears. Sammy, who was sat behind Rachel and next to Kabede, looked up and noticed the dog for the first time and let out a groan.

´Fucking, fuck me."

Kabede turned to him, then to the dog, and then just looked ahead, utter confusion on his face.

“Ari, I…” Hannah began, her voice cracking a little as she cradled her precious pooch in her arms and Ari chuckled a little as he leaned down to give her a quick peck.

"Leave no dog behind."

Once they set off, the bus soon became quieter. No one spoke for a while. The silence only broken every now and then by Ari, who was navigating. Hannah was sat by him at the front row of seats, Simon perched on her lap, looking out of the window right at the front with perked ears. 

Every so often, when he felt her squirm on her seat or heard her sigh, Ari would take Hannah's left hand, kissing over her ring finger, exactly where the big lavish ring he was going to buy her would sit. And every so often she would smile and look up at him, the pair of them sharing their happy little news, which remained between the two of them for the time being.

They had been driving for about an hour when Rachel shifted on her seat and Ari looked at her.

"Want me to take over?" He offered.

Rachel hesitated for a moment before asking. "How far we got?"

Ari checked Bowen's map again and then glanced at a passing old road sign before answering. "About eight more kilometers."

She shook her head just as Sammy, who had also spotted a road sign, demanded, “what is this place?"

"Carthago." Ari explained, raising his voice over the noise the bus engine was making. "It's an old British airfield."

"If it's still there." Hannah thought aloud, earning a glare from her brother

"What if it's not still there?" Sammy asked, his voice stern.

Ari took a deep breath and looked at Hannah, then to a dumbfounded Kabede and finally to Sammy who simply shook his head, giving a scoff. No one had an answer.

It was only ten more minutes till Rachel drove through the gates of the long time ago abandoned airfield, making part of it get stuck to the front of the bus. They drove a little distance more into it, with the gate stuck on the front of the bus bumping into every obstacle they found on their way. 

Once they stopped, they all quickly climbed off the bus and Max darted up the watch tower. Jake located the power banks and ran up another tower to try and fire up the lights they needed. 

Hannah and Rachel stood by the vehicles with the refugees, radio in hand as they watched Ari and Sammy head to the runway and start marking out the guide path with glow sticks, Simon jogging behind them.

They had been there for a few minutes when Hannah's radio cracked and she could hear Sammy talking to Ari.

"Not to state the obvious, but there’s a tree in the middle of the runway."

 "When are they supposed to be here?" Max's voice suddenly broke through, just as the bulbs of the tower were brought back to life, flooding the runway with bright, white light. "I don't know, why?" Ari replied, panting as Hannah saw him look round, brushing his hair away from his face. "We have company. Nine kilometers away"  Rachel and Hannah shared a worried glance, before Rachel took the radio and spoke. "Should we get them back on the trucks?"

"No, there's still time." Ari stated.   

"What did he say?" Hannah asked Rachel, visibly annoyed. "Give me the radio." She snatched it from Rachel's hand. "Ari, stop being a reckless asshole. We need to get out of here." "He’ll be here any minute. We can do it, Han. Just trust me." She heard him say, and scoffed. She could see him still, activating the glow sticks, dropping them to the ground to guide the plane. The plane which should already be there if they wanted to make it before Ahmed’s soldiers, because they all knew too well it would be them approaching, got there.

"Come on, Walton, you motherfucker." Ari whispered as he continued with his task. "What do we do?" Sammy asked as he approached him, having finished his side of the path. Ari looked around worried before he groaned, they were rapidly running out of time.  

“Shit, come on."  

Both men started running back to the trucks. Ari could see Hannah pacing along the front of the vehicles as he approached, a tell-tale she was anxious and no doubt pissed at him.

"We should get everyone back on the bus and get the fuck out of here." Rachel looked at Ari as he drew up beside her, Sammy to his other side.   "She’s right Ari. We’ll have to find another way." Hannah backed Rachel, her eyes pleading with Ari's, who looked at her, trying to think clearly about the best way to proceed. He didn’t want to give up, simply put he couldn’t give up, he had no other plan. "Okay, fine. Get everybody back inside again." Sammy stepped up, leaving no room for hesitation, making everyone start moving. But then Kabede cut in.

"No, wait. Listen. Listen." He urged.

They all paused, their ears straining, and through the quiet of the night came a soft, whooshing and rumbling sound-  plane engines.

Everyone looked up at the dark night sky, Hannah gripping Ari’s arm. Simon, who was a short distance away sniffing the fence attached to the front of the bus, suddenly ran back towards them, barking at the noise. And, seconds later, they got their first glimpse of their ticket out of here as the plane suddenly light up in the dark sky above them.

Ari was now grinning ear to ear, and he glanced down at Hannah, relief flooding his system and hers, clearly, as she let out a loud breath. There was a shared feeling of contained excitement as the plane landed and Ari kissed Hannah's temple. 

Not wasting a single second, they hurriedly headed over and started organising the refugees onto the cargo plane, Ari yelling a few instructions so that he could be heard over the deafening noise of the plane engines.

However all the relief they had felt upon the arrival of the plane was short lived. A couple of minutes after the first refugees had boarded, the marine pilot in charge of the operation turned to them and said there wasn't enough room for all of them on the plane and that barely half of them would fit in due to weight limitations.

"What the fuck?" Hannah snapped, breaking the shocked silence that had fallen over the group, her forehead creasing at the marine. "Are you serious?"

"If you leave us, we will die!" Kabede pleaded.

The marine looked at them and shook his head, and at that point, Ari’s temper snapped. He was done, and he was fucked if they had come this far only to be thwarted at the last minute. He was adamant they would leave no one behind, certainly not when it meant sentencing them to a certain death.

He lunged at the marine and grabbed his arm, pushing him a couple of steps towards the group "All right, then you decide, you decide who stays and who goes,  'cause I can't do it. You choose who lives, who dies." He spoke sternly, his eyes piercing the dumbfounded marine's, who hesitated as his own eyes roamed the group of people in front of him.

 "They're three kilometers out." Max announced, as he appeared panting among the people.

"Better do it fast." Ari urged the marine, who still looked around hesitating.

"We're waiting." Hanna pressed, her arms folded.

The marine turned to look at her and then sighed dejectedly. "It's not that I don't want to, there's no room on the plane."

"Then we'll make room." Sammy declared as he strode up the ramp with determination. Hannah and Ari exchanged a glance but joined him, the three of them quick to start ripping out the seats, throwing them onto the runway. Soon after Max, Jake, Rachel and Bowen started making room as well while Kabede and the marine helped the refugees up the ramp.

And then, rounding the corner in the distance, they could see the lights of the approaching soldiers' trucks.

"Shit." Hannah hissed as she threw one more seat into the runway and Ari darted to up the plane cabin to alert the pilot to start moving the damn plane. For what felt like hours but wasn't more than a couple of minutes, it was a mad scramble to get everyone on, urgently hurrying up the ramp as quickly as they could. They had barely succeeded as the trucks were already speeding through the airfield gate, guns firing, when the plane started moving.

As the plane gathered pace down the runway, the gun shots pinging off the metal of the closing ramp, Ari, Sammy and Bowen made it upstairs to the cabin. As the huge tree in the middle of the runway loomed nearer and nearer, Ari felt his stomach start to drop like a stone.

“We're not gonna make it.” He whispered, “we're not gonna make it.”

“We're gonna make it.” Sammy’s voice was calm yet stern as the nose of the plane began to pull up into the air. But it wasn’t rising fast enough, they were going to hit it.

“We're not gonna make it!” This time, Ari’s comment was louder, frantic almost and Sammy’s voice rose in retaliation, as he repeated his earlier statement.

“We're gonna make it!”

As the plane began to gather more and more height, Ari winced and couldn’t help the loud yell that bust from his mouth as the plane flew straight into the foliage of the tree.

“Shit!” Sammy grabbed Ari, as they both ducked a little, expecting the branches to fly through the cockpit window.

But nothing. The plane steadied, and gathered height, nothing but dark sky in front of them.

Ari’s chest was heaving, as he clung to the side of the plane, shaking his head a little. He raised his head, looked at Sammy, and he couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across his face. Sammy chuckled a little, tipping his head back.

Bowen patted Ari on the shoulder, “I  think we can breathe now.” And with that, he headed down the stairs.

Barely daring to believe their luck, Ari took one last glance out of the front of the plane and nodded to the pilot before he followed Bowen and Sammy down into the cargo hold. As he started making his way amongst the sitting refugees towards where Hannah was sat, his throat and chest suddenly grew tight with the realisation of the magnitude of what they’d just done.

He’d never seen this side of their missions before. Once they set the refugees on the rafts with the Navy Seals, their involvement finished. He’d never experienced their quiet, hushed chatting, or seen their tired and anxious, yet relieved faces.

It was amazing, humbling and completely overwhelming.

As he picked his way carefully across the metal cargo hold floor, his eyes flicked to Jake and then Max, both men wiping at their eyes as they too were clearly feeling the emotion of the moment. He nodded to them both and finally reached his girl who was sat next to Kabede. Her own eyes were red, as was the tip of her nose from her tears.

Ari flopped down heavily besides her. For the first time he could recall, he felt old. He ached all over, and he was just so fucking tired. He let out a groan as he lifted his arm to allow Hannah to snuggle into him, rubbing gently at her back as she sniffed.

“Leave no one behind.” Kabede’s gentle voice spoke and Ari turned to look at him. “You're crazy, you know that?”

With a soft chuckle, Ari kissed Hannah’s head as she clung to him. His eyes strayed to Sammy, who was sat across from him, Rachel cuddled into his side. As Ari watched, she gently pressed a kiss to Sammy’s arm and Sammy met Ari’s smile and gave him a small nod back.

Ari shifted a little, and then felt something a little un-even in his back pocket. Reaching for it, he pulled out  Maya’s drawing of him, Hannah and Simon. He’d shoved it in there before when he was leaving the hotel, not wanting to leave it behind.

And then, the emotion which he’d fought so hard to keep at bay completely crashed over him as he looked at the drawing that his daughter had done. His face crumpled and his shoulders began to shake in a silent sob. A moment later, he felt Hannah move and she let out a soft sigh.

“Oh, Ari. It’s okay, we made it.”

He sniffed again and then gave a smile, wiping a tear which had trickled down to the tip of his nose as he glanced again at the drawing, then to Hannah.

“I can’t wait for you to meet her, Firefly.”

“I can’t wait to meet her either.” She whispered, smiling at him.

“God, I love you.” He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes as she whispered back.

“I love you too.”

****

Hannah was asleep, her head resting on Ari’s chest. His large arms held her protectively to him, his bearded cheek resting on her head. He wasn’t in a deep sleep, more like a heavy doze. He woke a few times as people attempted to move around in the confines of the aircraft carrier. Eventually, though, the hushed voices started to get louder and murmurs spread across the cabin. Ari cracked his eye open and looked up to see one of the marines descending the stairs. He caught Ari’s eye and gave him a weary smile.

“We’re about to start the descent.”

Ari took a deep breath, the relief washing over him and he felt Hannah stir.

“What’s going on?” She asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“We’re about to start our descent, baby.” He kissed her forehead, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’re home.”

At his words, her eyes begin to water and she struggled for her own words, but managed a strangled whisper of his name. He swallowed in response, wrapped his arms around her tighter and pressed his face into her hair. “I know, I know.”

They sat silently, and air of unmistakable, yet nervous excitement as the plane slowly began to lose altitude. As there were no windows, no one had any idea how far off the ground they were at any given moment, and there were loud shrieks as the wheels hit the ground and they were all jolted slightly. Ari felt Hannah’s hand grab his, and he squeezed her fingers as she glanced over at her brother. Sammy’s lips brushed Rachel’s hairline, smiling as he caught his sister’s eye.  

After what felt like forever, the plane came to a shuddering stop, and the agents in the cargo hold all rose to their feet. Ari moved to the rear, his hand still around Hannah’s as he took her with him, the people who were sat on the floor all parting to allow them a path through. As the ramp lowered, the morning sun started sifting through the opening tailgate. Hannah blinked, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sudden glare.

“Lobo, what time is it?” She asked suddenly. “I err, I don’t know where my watch is. I didn’t-“

“It doesn’t matter, Firefly,” Ari soothed, knowing she’d be upset about losing it, “I’ll get you ano-“ then he stopped dead as he glanced down at his own, realisation flooding his system. “Han?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday, Sweetheart.”

She blinked and then smiled. “Yeah, it is.”

Ari chuckled as he kissed her softly. “I’m so sorry, I nearly forgot…I did have something for you but-”

Her lips curled into a smile against his. “I’ll forgive you, it’s been a busy few days.”

Their foreheads touched together for a few seconds until the ramp hit the floor and they were jerked back into the operation. Ari moved swiftly into his leader role, barking orders to get the people off requiring medical assistance first as a buzz of activity swarmed through the plane. Once he was satisfied that everyone had heard him and understood, he turned and made his way down the ramp, the metal clanging beneath his boots. As soon as his feet touched the ground of his homeland, he took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging in utter relief. He couldn’t even begin to describe the emotions being back spiked in his chest.

But, he didn’t have time to dwell on it. It was non-stop activity as he threw himself into helping the people off the plane, directing them across the tarmac towards the waiting ambulances, military attendees and aid-givers.  

Ari had just turned back to the ramp after helping an elderly lady towards a waiting stretcher, when he saw Bowen approach Ethan and Isaacs, shaking their hands. Ethan looked over and caught Ari’s eye and gave him a nod, which he returned before he moved forward to relive one of the soldiers of Kabede.

“I’ve got him.” Ari insisted as he helped his friend over to the paramedics, wanting to make sure the man was given care as a matter of priority.

“Ari, there are thousands more…” Kabede began and Ari nodded, his hand curling over the man’s shoulder.

“We’re gonna go back,” he assured, before he hesitated and took a deep breath, “well, some of us will.”

As the paramedic assured Ari they’d take care of the man, he stood up straight, his hands falling to his hips as he contemplated his words. The us wouldn’t include him, but he felt at peace with that, it was time to bow out.

And what a success of a swan song.

He watched Kabede getting wheeled towards a waiting ambulance and he took a deep breath and headed over towards Hannah who was stood hugging Rachel. Ari stopped with a slight chuckle to pet Simon as the faithful mutt ran towards him, jumping up at his legs.

“Welcome to Tel Aviv, buddy.”

Sammy met him a few strides later, the two men embracing silently. There were no words needed. With their arms around one another they moved towards the girls and Ari inclined his head to Hannah, signalling for her to follow him.

“Is that a fucking dog?” Isaacs asked, watching the animal as it trotted behind Ari and Hannah as they made their way towards them.

“Yes. Simon.” Ethan replied, his eyes twinkling slightly.

“What?” Isaacs turned slowly to look at him.

“The dog. His name is Simon. Simon Le Bone, to give him his full title.” Ethan’s lips curled up in a slight smile as Isaacs let out a noise of disbelief from his nose.

“They brought a fucking dog from fucking Sudan.” It was a statement not a question, and he followed it with a snort and a shake of his head. “He’s so fired.”

“Oh, I already fired him. Again. The other night.” Ethan replied. “But I have a feeling it’s a moot point. By all means, feel free to try once more.”

Hannah and Ari exchanged a look as they approach the two men who had, at that moment, both burst out laughing. Ari shook Isaacs hand as Ethan swept Hannah into a hug.

“From the hospitality trade to animal transportation I see, Ari.” Isaacs levelled him with a look, his eyes twinkling with humour.

“Four hundred refugees,” Ari shot back, as he moved to shake Ethan’s hand “I figured one more wouldn’t make a difference.”

“Mrs Horowitz, nice to see you again.” Isaacs smiled as he shook her hand.

“Miss Navon.” She corrected him a little shyly, and Ari looked at her smiling softly, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together.

Isaacs clearly noticed the sign of affection as he arched his brow, sharing a side glance with Ethan. Simon then gave a little whine, jumping up at Hannah’s leg once more and Isaacs gave a snort. “Yeah, that’s the oddest looking dog I’ve ever seen. Where’s his hair?”

“Same place as mine, I expect.” Ethan spoke, humour in his voice and both Hannah and Ari laughed. “I think he’s rather distinguished looking, wouldn’t you say Barack?”

Isaacs looked at Ethan, his brows raised before he snorted and glanced down at the dog. “Distinguished, hairless Simon.” He stated, before he shook his head and looked back at Hannah and Ari. “Welcome home.”

 “Thanks.” Hannah let out a deep breath before she looked at Ethan. “Is Mama here?”

“Everyone is waiting at HQ. We didn’t want to draw too much attention by having everyone here.” He answered and she nodded.

“Is Maya there?” Ari asked.

“Yes.” Ethan raised a brow. “And Sarah.”

At that Hannah frowned and looked down at her shoes, a funny feeling brewing in her stomach. This was the side to being home that she hadn’t, until now, really given much thought. In Sudan, they’d been in their own little bubble, nothing to worry or bother them, no complications pertaining to their relationship to think about. And that was all about to change.

As if he could sense her trepidation, Ari squeezed her hand and she looked at him. He gave her a soft smile before Ethan cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Oh, and happy birthday.”

“Thanks Ethan.” Hannah’s voice was quiet, unlike her brother as he spoke loudly from behind them.

“It’s your birthday?”

She rolled her eyes and turned to look at him over her shoulder where he stood with Rachel. “Don’t worry, Ari forgot too.”

Ari rolled his eyes and was about to answer her back, but he his attention was drawn to Isaacs who was now busy dodging Simon’s attempts to bite his trouser seams. Ethan looked at Ari, both of them trying to hold back a laugh as Isaacs cursed at the dog, nudging him away with his foot.

Max and Jake then joined them and after they had both shaken hands with Isaacs and Ethan, they all made their way towards the cars which were waiting to take them back to HQ.

“There’s no room for the dog in the cars.” Isaacs grumbled, once again moving his leg out of the way of Simon’s teeth. “Not if the fucker’s going to keep biting me, anyway.”

“Don’t worry, he can sit on my knee.” Ari bent down and swooped the dog up into his arms. Simon’s tail began to wag as he licked Ari’s beard. “He likes to put his paws on the dash.”

Isaacs merely groaned in response.

*****

The minute the group of agents walked into the main foyer of Headquarters they started to attract attention, which Ari wasn’t surprised at. Not least did they all look battered and worse for wares, but they had a strange looking dog trotting ahead of them, one that insisted snigging at everyone who stopped to greet them.

After a few hellos, smiles and shaking of hands, they made their way to the elevator at the rear, Ethan selecting the floor that would take them up to the Operations Office. Ari had to give an amused chuckle when, as it started to move, Simon splayed his legs a little and then looked up at Hannah, giving a little whine as he wobbled. She bent down and scratched his ear, soothing him a little as the dog clearly wasn’t impressed with the strange, moving metal box they were in. It didn’t escape Ari how stupid that seemed, considering he’d just spent a fair few hours on a bigger metal box flying through the sky but then again the dog was a funny little creature when all things were considered.

It was for that reason, that as soon as the elevator doors opened, the canine pushed his way out and then stopped dead at the loud round of applause that had erupted. He paused and cocked his head to one side, and then Ari heard a familiar voice, one he’d been aching to hear for so long, as it shouted over the cacophony of noise.

“Simon? Mom, it’s Simon, look! Daddy and Hannah brought him home with them!”

Ari swallowed, tears instantly filling his eyes as he stepped out of the elevator with a purposeful stride and looked at Maya who grinned back at him.

“Daddy!”  

He barely had time to register her loud, excited shout when she launched at him. With a heavy thud he dropped to his knees and held her close, his large arms wrapping around her small frame. His face pressed into her long, black hair as he screwed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath.

“Hey, Munchkin.” He managed to whisper out, his voice choking as the lump in his throat threatened to close off his airway.

“You stink.” Maya whispered and Ari gave a splutter of a laugh as he pulled back a little, brushing her hair off her face. 

“Sorry.” He sniffed and she shrugged, her hands moving to his shirt, fingers fiddling with the buttons just under his collar bone.

“It’s okay.” She smiled, before her arms wrapped around his neck again and she pressed her cheek to his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby," he let out a small sob, “so very much.”

Meanwhile, Hannah had set off running towards her mom, followed closely by Sammy. The three of them embraced, a loud babble of sobs and whispers of love and greetings in a flurry of English and Spanish as they held each other tight. Maria pulled back to look at both her children, her hands reaching up to cup their faces in turn as she pressed kisses to both their cheeks.

“You two are never going back to a dangerous mission, you hear me?” She spluttered and Hannah gave a little laugh as she cried, hugging her mom tight.

“I didn’t even wanna go on this one so... no arguments from me.” Sammy mumbled as his mom pulled him close. Hannah smiled as he stepped away and turned to watch Rachel who was hugging her kids tightly. As her brother gestured for his girlfriend to come and met their mama, Hannah’s eyes than looked over to see Sarah was embracing Ari tightly. Ari pulled back and smiled at his estranged wife, as he adjusted Maya who was now balanced on his hip. He said something to the woman, who gave him a smile, softly touching his arm as she nodded.

A flash of jealousy suddenly washed over Hannah and she swallowed, taking a deep breath, telling herself she was being unreasonable. No matter what had happened between the two, they had a deep history, and would always in some form care for one another, they had a child together, it was understandable.

 Still, she wasn’t sure she liked it.

But, thankfully, she didn’t have much time to think on it all things considered, because Maya tapped Ari’s shoulder and he looked at her, kissing her cheek. She laughed and then spoke, a huge grin spreading across Ari’s face as he nodded. Then, he turned and beamed at Hannah, pointing towards her.

He placed Maya down on the floor and she took his hand, practically pulling him over towards Hannah, a huge grin on her pretty little face.

“Firefly, I got someone here very keen to meet you.” Ari spoke as he stopped in front of her and Hannah raised her brows teasingly, despite the sudden nerves flooding her system at the fact she was about to meet Ari’s daughter for the first time. 

“Really? And who would that be?”

Maya gave a little giggle and she looked at Ari who himself chuckled before she turned back to Hannah. “Hi Hannah!”

“Hi, Maya, sweetheart!” Hannah smiled as she crouched down. “I’m so happy to finally meet you.”

Maya beamed and threw her arms round her, temporarily stunning Hannah who recovered quickly and a hugged the girl back as she spoke. “Me too, Dad’s told me all about you.”

Ari smiled as he watched the two of them, his heart feeling beyond full. He took a deep breath and glanced up, spotting Mama Navon reprimanding Max for something he had just said, slapping him behind the head lightly. Ari chuckled, there was no doubt in his mind that Max had quipped something to her about Ethan. Maria looked round, spotted him and smiled. He grinned back and stepped forward to give her a hug.

“Hey, Maria.”

“Oh, Ari, It’s good to see you.” She whispered as she hugged him. He smiled down at her as she pulled back, slapping his arm. “You all had me worried sick!”

He gave a little sigh and a shrug. “Had myself worried for a moment, too.”

Maria squinted her eyes at him. “Typical Levinson, huh?”

At that he smirked. “You know me.”

“Yeah, he never has a plan!” Sammy shot as he stood a few feet away, arm round Rachel who was talking to Ethan.

Ari looked at his friend who was smirking and he let out a scoff, as Sammy’s eyes then flicked to Hannah who was still crouched down chatting to Maya who was bombarding her with questions about Sudan and Simon, the dog sat beside them, his tail thumping as Maya stroked him.

“Well, sometimes the stuff you don’t plan is what works out best.” Ari responded as he met Sammy’s eyes. Sammy scoffed before he chuckled.

“Yeah, because you’re a lucky son of a bitch.”

Ari looked down at Hannah once more, before he met Sammy’s gaze, his eyes flicking to Maria before he shrugged, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah, I am.”

Ari’s attention was then taken by Sarah, who’d approached them a little shyly, her hand dropping to Maya’s head. “Maya, honey, give Hannah some rest.”

Hannah looked up, before she rose to her feet. “Honestly, it’s no bother.”

Sarah gave her a grateful smile before she took a deep breath, holding out her hand. “Hi, Hannah.”

Hannah smiled back, taking it in hers. “How are you, Sarah?”

“I should be asking how you are.” The dark haired woman replied and Hannah shrugged.

“I’m fine now, thanks.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

Maya, who had been watching them both from where she sat on the floor playing with Simon, looked up at Ari who simply shrugged, before he held his hand out and she took it. He pulled her to her feet where she jumped once more into his arms and he lifted her up.

“How long are you home for?” she asked him. He looked at Hannah who’d turned to face him and he smiled, kissing Maya’s cheek again.

“For good baby, for good.”

****

The main office became more and more crowded as time ticked by. Food and champagne suddenly appeared as a ‘Welcome Home’ party of sorts struck up. As Isaacs stood to give a small speech, talking about what they’d achieved, Ari felt a little pang of guilt as his mind flicked to the refugees that had been transported away from the airport to their temporary accommodations. They wouldn’t be getting anything near as flashy or as lavish as this, but he knew they’d be taken care of and given food, water and shelter in a lot better conditions than they’d been in before. With that in mind, he let himself go a little, allowing himself to be proud of what they’d managed to pull off.

It was astounding when he thought about it, the many missions they’d run, the danger they’d overcome. But as he stood in the room where he’d first outlined his vision years ago, he couldn’t help but think about how the best thing of all at that moment was how well Maya and Hannah seemed to be getting on. Maya had almost stuck to her side, and Simon’s, like glue. Ari noticed Sarah’s expression slip a few times as she observed them, but to her credit she said nothing.

Eventually, later in the afternoon, Isaacs called time on the celebrations as they had to debrief and go through the rest of the serious stuff that came after missions. Maya wanted to stay, growing teary when both Ari and Sarah tried to reason with her that she couldn’t. To avoid an impending tantrum and floods of tears, Ari promised he would collect her the following evening from school for dinner, assuring her once more that he wasn’t leaving again and eventually she allowed her mom to take her home after bidding a final goodbye to him, Hannah and the dog she now seemed to be totally in love with.

The formal discussions and reports were given to what felt like the entire Mossad and Military board. There were numerous things to sign, all were given dates and times for appointments with therapists, they were also all subject to medical examinations to ensure neither of them had any temperatures or other symptoms which would suggest they had any underlying infections or diseases. By the time this was over, it was pushing eight pm and all of them were relieved when Isaacs finally dismissed them, telling them to head home for some well-earned rest and recuperation. 

But, it was only when Ethan handed Ari the keys to his apartment that it suddenly dawned on him that Hannah and he were about to go their separate ways. He knew she intended on going home with Sammy to her mom’s, having not seen her in over six months and Ari didn’t want to stop her from doing that, especially not on her birthday.

Yet, whilst he understood, completely, he wasn’t particularly looking forward to a night on his own in his apartment. 

“You okay, Lobo?” Hannah’s voice roused him from his thoughts and he looked up, closing his fingers around his keys as Ethan left the office.

“Yeah, fine. Just tired.” He smiled as she stepped forward into his arms. 

“Me too. I feel like I could sleep for a week.” She mumbled and Ari chuckled.

“Well, you can wake up late tomorrow with your mom fussing and making you brunch.” Ari smiled as he pulled back and Hannah looked up at him, her lips curling up at one side.

“Yeah, she’s looking forward to spoiling us.”

“Sure Sammy can’t wait.” Ari chuckled. “He can finally stop complaining about not knowing if his meet is beef,  camel or goat.”

Hannah laughed and then took a deep breath, her fingers playing smoothing gently over the shoulders of his shirt. “She’s already been grilling me about whether you still like Spanish Omelette.”

“Me?” Ari blinked. “Why?”

“For tomorrow.” Hannah looked at him. “I thought, well assumed, that seeing as Maya isn’t staying with you that you’d wanna come back with us. I mean, if you don’t that’s-“

“No, I mean, yes. Of course I do, I just figured that you and Sammy might want a family night alone with your mama.”

“Ari, you are family.” Hannah looked at him, her hand moving to his neck, gently tangling in his hair. “And besides, Sammy’s not had much say in the matter. Mama slapped his protests down about you being a pain in the ass straight away.”

Ari chuckled and shook his head. “He still hates me, huh?”

“No, he loves you.” Hannah shook her head. “He was smiling when he said it. Mind you, we might wanna wait a little till everything’s settled to tell them were getting married.”

Ari smiled, before he took a deep breath and bit his lip. “Yeah I need to break that to Sarah, too. And buy you a ring.”

Hannah beamed, her nails gently scratching his neck. “One thing at a time, we’ll think about all that later. For now let’s just be happy we made it back.”

Ari took a deep breath before he gently leaned down and pressed his lips to Hannah’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Hannah whispered as she kissed him back, his tongue gentle yet domineering as it swept into her mouth, sliding against hers.

He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers and she smiled before a small bark interrupted them and they turned to see Simon sat by the desk on the corner, his head cocked to one side.

Ari shook his head. “You’re a pain in my ass.” He said to the dog who merely wagged his tail.

“Come on, Lobo.” Hannah slipped her hand in his as she tugged him behind her towards the door. “Let’s go home.”

*****

Chapter 16

[blackstarising]

precipice, a buckysarah fic | also on ao3

bucky and sarah spend saturday mornings together on the wilson's back porch. neither remembers when this became a habit.

She’s awake for a few moments before she hears it, the creaking, through the open window. It’s not loud, of course, it’s never loud, Daddy had dutifully oiled the swing’s joints to make sure that wouldn’t happen, but age had touched it just enough that, nowadays, you’d know if someone was sitting there.

Sarah sits up, and rubs the sleep from her eyes. The thick, summer air fills her lungs, the same that coats her forehead in a sheen of sweat. Lingering tension from melts from her shoulders. Unconsciously, she brushes the dog tags nestled inside of her shirt.

He’s okay. Thank God.

A familiar electric buzz runs up the back of her spine as she pads past the boys’ rooms and tiptoes down the stairs. Months ago, that buzz would have prompted her toss her bonnet onto her bed, to swiftly change into jeans and a somewhat presentable T-shirt, even though Saturday mornings before 8 were, by law, designated as Sarah Time.

And then, three weeks ago, the last time she’d seen him in person, she’d raced down the stairs to get AJ’s stuffed toy (some Minecraft thing? Sarah could never keep track) that he’d accidentally left outside before he woke up, cheesy printed pajamas and all. He hadn’t flinched.

He could fit into Sarah Time, she’d decided, right then and there. Lizzo’s “Cuz I Love You” was left on repeat on her phone for her the rest of the day.

So she slips downstairs, ‘Bad Mama Jama’ shirt and all. Coffee steeps. Two mugs are produced, lactose-free milk dumped into each, and a sizable glop of honey into hers.

After all this time, his breath still catches a little when he sees her come out the back door. The humidity that sticks to Bucky’s skin like a stifling coat makes her skin shimmer in the faint sunlight. She yawns, her nose wrinkling just enough that it’s painfully cute, and then she relaxes, still sleepy but serene as she presses the hot mug into his right hand.

“Hey.” He greets her.

“Hey.” Her smile grows. “You’re back.”

“I am. With cinnamon rolls.” Sure enough, a paper bag rests next to the swing. He pats his left side, and she obliges. Their thighs touch plainly this time.

She takes a slow sip of her coffee. “Hope you haven’t been sitting here all night. Where’s Sam?”

“About an hour, and still in DC. Captain America business, and all that.”

“And what? No Winter Soldier business?”

Bucky shrugs. “I like the quiet.” Her quiet. Or maybe just her and the boys, though the boys weren’t that quiet. And ‘like’ was too weak a word at this point, probably.

She takes another sip of coffee, strangely proud. He does too, if only to silence the annoyingly insistent voice in the back of his head nagging him to just put his arm around her shoulder already.

“Still not sure about this fancy milk, though.”

“You mean milk that me and the kids can actually digest?” Sarah knows damn well he can’t taste the difference. “Well, I have bad news for you about oat milk. And soy milk." She grins wickedly. "And don't forget rice milk-”

“None of which belong in coffee.” After nearly a century of identities and missions she’s not sure if she ever wants to hear about, his Brooklyn accent is faint, but he still stretches out the caw in ‘coffee’. How mortifying it is, the way she perks up when that grit bleeds out.

He brushes the bright blue hem of her bonnet. “Is this new?”

She shakes her head and pulls it off. Dark braids tumble down her shoulders. These ones are new, he notices - they’re tighter at the root, and shimmer with oil that smells of roses. “Found out AJ stuffed it in the couch cushions a month ago. I just happened to stick my hand down there yesterday. I do not know what it is about him and that damn couch.” She snickers. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a signed check for a million dollars down there one day.”

He chuckles, and gives the ground a little kick the start the swing going again. “Did he get his new glasses yet? Last time I was here, he was saying that he didn’t want to see the optometrist again.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like the...” Sarah makes a motion with a finger, like she’s pressing a button. “There’s a little gun they use. They blow a puff of air onto your eyeball.”

Bucky recoils a little. “They what?”

“It’s supposed to measure it for the prescription. They tried to do it on me before they did his. I thought it was supposed to be just like a little breeze, but it bounces off your eye.” She pauses and scratches her head. “I may have hollered-”

“Ha! I bet he took that well.”

“I had to get him on my lap to calm down.” She sighs and pouts, just a little. “At least he still wants to be held. Cass makes me drop him off a block away from school now.”

Cass is indeed growing. Overnight, he’s shot up like a reed so that he’s just as high as Bucky’s shoulders. His normally smooth skin is interrupted by a few bumps, and his voice bounces around in pitch like an untuned clarinet. Something in his chest twinges when he considers it, how time marches forward. How, very soon, the collective wide-eyed innocence of the boys will harden into adulthood.

Her gaze falls to his left hand. The fingers curl and flex. She still remembers the first time she’d looked at his arm, really looked at it, the dark plates molding and shifting. It’d been the second time they’d shared this same porch, waiting for Sam to bring back the boys from fishing.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Sarah, he’d said suddenly, catching her gaze. His voice had been heavy, but clear. Dark blue eyes filled with regret. I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I didn’t have a choice, but, with you and- here, she’d held her breath as his Adam’s apple bobbed, how quickly he’d blinked - and the boys, I...I don’t want- I need you to know all of me. Who I’ve been. Who I am. And then you can decide. But you can’t do that if I’m not honest.

She doesn’t remember what she’d said after. She does remember watching him get into the truck so Sam could take him to the airport. How he’d paused when he’d opened the door, and turned towards her, eyes wide. Vulnerable. How she’d smiled at him, and waved, maybe a bit too cheesily, like it’d been the easiest thing in the world, because despite it all, oddly, she hadn’t been afraid. How the widest grin had broken out on his face and something deep inside her chest that had been closed had burst open for the first time since she’d lost Andrew. And she remembers watching the truck pull out of the drive as her heart filled to such a capacity that her chest hurt, and the second they’d disappeared over the hill she’d promptly burst into tears, well, really, half laughing and half sobbing, because how the hell was she supposed to know she could find that feeling again?

It’s only when she sees his jaw clench that she finally notices the cut, long and fading pink against his chiseled cheekbones. Maybe she’s getting too used to them - he’s always injured in some way when he gets back.

He can see that familiar softening in her eyes as she catches sight of the gash. Well, it had been a gash just an hour before, the result of catching a thrown knife on his cheek before he’d caught the hilt. But what’s about to happen next will play like clockwork.

First, she’s going to try to get a closer look. Her index and pointer finger come up just under his chin, tilting his head to the side. His skin tingles, the electricity of her concern rushing through him.

Then, she’ll hum. She’s never chastised him, though he wouldn’t know what there’d be to say if she tried. But that hum says more than enough.

“Hmm.”

In the moment, she doesn’t feel herself cupping his face with both hands, it just sort of happens. Her throat dries instantly as the stubble brushes in her palms.

He can’t breathe, but every single muscle in his body relaxes. He sinks into her touch.

“Y- you should see the other guy,” he manages to get out. There’s a faint memory that breaks to the surface, the docks in New York, 1940-something, 1943? A date whose name has been lost to time, the last date he’d ever go on. Soft hands cupping his face, just like this, and warm, pleading ruby-red lips crashing dully into his, a whisper to not forget her.

Sarah’s tongue darts between her lips. Both thumbs rub small circles into his cheeks. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted to kiss her, no. When has a day gone by that he hasn’t thought of kissing her? How is it that it’s never happened, but he can see it, clear as crystal, and hold it in his mind’s eye. How can he already feel her warm and flush and present and breathless and real against him?

Very slowly, she comes back to herself, and her face immediately flushes with a sharper heat. Her hands awkwardly drop from his face. She tries to think of something, anything, to interrupt the silence (to explain herself?), but every word that comes to mind sticks helplessly in her throat and she just can’t stand it because she’s the same, she’s exactly the same as she’d been at 17, leg jiggling and sweating and staring a hole right through the back of Andrew’s head in AP Calculus.

(She’d never wanted to punch Sam so bad back then when he’d had the audacity to say well, just tell him, already. The audacity of him, to think things were so simple.)

She leans back, scooting just a hair away this time. The crest of the sun beams through the trees, painfully bright. Her pulse is louder now. She’s looking at the small grove so intently she doesn’t even register the weight gently settle on her left shoulder at first. It only clicks when she feels the cool metal of his thumb brush up and down her bicep. Their eyes lock, brown against against blue.

He’s still smiling, and she, she realizes, is too.

So she melts into him. She melts into him, her ear landing over his chest, her arm wrapping around the small of his back. She sighs into the muted whoosh whoosh whoosh of his heartbeat, the cotton of his shirt, and the faint smell of spearmint on his breath. Another kick of her foot and they’re swinging yet again, back and forth, back and forth. The sun pulls itself up ever higher and higher.

The light starts to burn his cheek. “The boys’ll be up soon,” he murmurs into her hair.

She snuggles deeper into him. “Mmm.”

They’re on the precipice of something, this, they both know. They're inching closer and closer, and one day they’ll step off, and she’ll kiss him full on the mouth and whenever he’ll come back to the house he’ll be coming back home and whenever they go anywhere they’ll stick each others hand in their back pockets in that particular way that teenagers do that let everyone know that they’re each others and there’s nothing they can do about it.

One day. But for now, this is more than enough.

They like the quiet.

[ladyeliot]

Aftermath

Request: This is a request that @mycosmicparadise​ asked me for a long time ago. Sorry, sweetie.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader

Summary: After the events in New York, the team reunites to carry out the mission to get Loki's scepter, but things go wrong and your mission changes completely, now you have to go after Ultron, but you find yourself unable to keep your powers under control.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of abuse. 

Word count: 3972

A/N: Avengers Age of Ultron. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader's powers: She is a powerful empath, as she can sense and manipulate other people's emotions. Proficient unarmed combatant.

Hydra, Research Base, Eastern Europe.

You felt like your insides were full of hate and rage, every person you met through the thick forest, the only thing they felt when they saw you was dislike, mixed with the anger of wanting to get rid of you. Your powers worked because you kept your own emotions under control, but it was a constant struggle, as you used to feel inside you the emotions that others possessed and that made your insides filled with every negative emotion.

"Shit!" you heard Tony through the relay you had inserted in the back of your ear.

"Language!" Steve instantly rebutted him.

You held your position through the thick forest of Sokovia, Hydra's base was on top of a mountain, or rather it was the mountain itself, for around it they had built a rather impenetrable base that you wanted to access in order to get the Sceptre that you were unable to take from Loki at the time. Numerous clearly trained soldiers were trying to stop you in your tracks. Jarvis had informed you that the building was protected by an energy shield, which was against you as it was the most advanced technology you had seen in any Hydra base of operations.

"Loki's sceptre must be in there," Thor announced, as you guarded one of those soldiers under your body rendering him completely unconscious. "They couldn't have those defences without it."

You ran across the field trying to close the gap with Natasha, who was a few metres ahead of you, Clint following.

"Okay," you said staring at one of your targets and getting him to lower his gun to tackle him, "so what do we do?"

"Wait a second," Tony interjected. "No one else is going to deal with the fact that Cap just said "language?"

"I know," Steve replied, making your eyes roll at the distraction they were causing in the middle of the mission.

The graze of bullets was almost audible through your body, it seemed to go on forever, you had been going on for hours and all you could manage to do was run into more troops sent by Hydra to hold you in that quadrant of the forest. Natasha was trying to get rid of two guys who had tackled her, you turned to her and stared at one of them but just as you were about to make the mental connection something that you barely noticed made you fall to the ground.

"What the hell?" you exclaimed getting up again and looking around you hoping to find the cause of it.

"We've got an upgrade," Steve informed you.

"Wait, you don't call her 'language'?" Tony complained at the situation. "Okay, I'll tell her. Language!"

At that instant a muffled shout from Clint sounded behind you.

"Clint!" Natasha had effectively freed herself from the two henchmen and you both headed towards Clint, who had been shot from a bunker. "Clint's hurt. Can someone take care of that bunker?"

As if Natasha's words were an order, Hulk appeared out of nowhere to overwhelm the small building and the soldiers inside. You stood up and turned your full attention to your surroundings while Nat continued to perform the necessary treatment to alleviate the blow that your companion had received.

"Clint is in bad shape, he needs to be evacuated," Nat reported over the transmitter, as Thor and the Captain instantly landed next to you. "I can take Barton to the Quinjet," Thor replied and focused his gaze on Steve. "The sooner we leave the better.

"Copy that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face.

"Roger that," Steve replied for both of you, but at that moment he noticed your face. "Are you all right?"

You nodded, returning to an introspective position beside Natasha.

On the ride home, silence flooded the Quinjet more than ever, the mission had finally succeeded but it wasn't really in the air, it wasn't felt inside any of you, even though Stark had proposed a victory party.

The following days nothing had gone as planned, the analysis of the sceptre that Stark and Banner had carried out, more than an analysis it was a reconfiguration of a network of neurons that they had found, in order to create an artificial intelligence. Artificial intelligence that they used in Stark's secret 'peacekeeping' programme called Ultron, designed to allow the Iron Legion to operate independently. That brought some trouble, when at the end of the Party he showed up to personally attack you, well rather, the whole of humanity, as Ultron thinks the best way to save Earth is to eradicate humanity, he might be partly right.

"Ultron is gone," Banner's voice echoed within the four walls of the lab, "he has used the internet as an escape route."

"Ultron," you whispered to yourself, as one hand covered your face thoroughly.

"He's been all over. Files, surveillance," Natasha explained. "He knows more about us than we know about each other."

As the conversation continued to escalate, emotional energies radiated through the atmosphere, and you picked up on every one of them. Negativity, gathered together with worry, confusion and concern took over your body, you still felt a resentment from the attack you experienced three days ago in Sokovia, which managed to heighten each of the sensations. You closed your eyes as you hid your face with one hand and the other voices became ominous, frustrating your senses. Natasha was the only person who seemed to notice your situation, stopping the voices with a "guys", but just as they stopped, a small laugh from a completely distracted Tony typing on the computer made you burst.

"You think that's funny?" the hand hiding your face disappeared to give way to hard features and a raised, gruff tone of voice, Tony turned and looked at you a little quizzically, but you could see a hidden smile.

"No," he said indifferently. "It probably isn't, is it? This is terrible, it's so..." again his laughter tackled him, causing you to be completely confused and your frustration to grow. "I know. It's so terrible."

"It's just as terrible that you're taunting all of us right now with your fucking arrogance," you said approaching him.

"No," his tone unlike yours seemed pleasant and friendly, "It really is funny, just like it's funny that you don't understand why we need him," Tony closed the distance with you, positioning the two of you in the middle of the lab, his voice had completely changed it was just as gruff as yours.

"Tony, maybe this isn't the time," Bruce interjected in a melodic tone.

"So, a killer robot was what we needed?" you reproached, lifting your chin to position yourself against his height. "The shield that was supposed to free us from alien threats frees us by wiping out all of humanity, yeah, really brilliant."

"Remember I put a nuke through a wormhole?" he rebuked you, recalling for the umpteenth time that night the event in New York. "Tell me, how did you plan to win that? What was your damned solution to get rid of that damned hostile alien army that came through that wormhole in space?"

"Together," Steve interjected quickly, causing Tony to look away from you and back at Steve.

You made the air rush into your lungs offering you some relaxation, instigating your mind to let positive memories come to you. Your differences with Tony were known, your understanding of his views was limited, a fact that generated the occasional verbal conflict between the two of you, let's just say you couldn't stand each other more than you deserved.

The night was long, mostly because there was hardly any rest after planning what you were going to do to stop Ultron, which led you to South Africa.

"She should stay," Nat's whisper reached your ears. "The mission in Sokovia has left her with  aftermath she has yet to overcome."

"Oh, last night was a aftermath?" Tony from the pilot's seat added to the conversation. "Nice."

"You know I'm here and I can hear you?" you asked without opening your eyes from your seat. "I'm coming down, worry about you guys that..."

"Okay, listen," Tony stood up from the command post. "I may regret saying this but I agree with her. I think you should stay here with Banner. Keep you two company. Get to know each other better. You know."

"Why don't you stay here, Tony, and get to know Banner better?" you opened your eyes and looked at Tony, but thought for a second. "Well, I'd better not, lest you get the bright idea to create Ultron's sister."

"He's an only child," Tony countered your irony.

"The roles are split," you added as a definitive point. "I'll take the girl, you take Ultron."

From a mountain fortress to a ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. You entered its interior, a quite feasible target, when in fact what you all feared lay within. Darkness fell over your pupils, the smell of dampness professed in every corner.

"You're with me, aftermath," reported a voice from behind a suit of armour. "Stay sharp, this guy is made by me."

The long corridors soon took you deep into the heart of the ship, they were as eager to run into you as you were to run into them, so it was only a couple of minutes before you were reunited in a vast maze of iron catwalks.

"Stark is a sickness!" exclaimed that robot called Ultron.

"Ahh, Junior," Tony posed in front of him and his two enhanced companions, "You're gonna break your old man's heart."

From that moment on things happened too fast for a clear description to be made. The corridors seemed to lengthen as you tried to keep that enhanced girl, Wanda, away from the others. She was powerful, trying to play with your mind and you with hers. It was a battle of mental endurance, if you could keep your mind blank and safe from all the negative things she was trying to make you see, you could keep going. It seemed doable, you seemed to have it under control, you had freed yourself from the transmitter that kept you in contact with the others to avoid any external distractions, but none of that was enough when a new enhancement came into play making you lose your balance completely, you felt the emptiness flooding you, as if your body was falling unchecked into the darkness.

A halo of light circled over your eyes making you recognise what was around you, you had escaped, you had fled from that ship thousands of miles in space and time. A figure that you recognised instantly was in front of you, smiling at you, raising her hand to caress your face, it was the figure of your mother, she was laughing, but with each laugh the atmosphere became darker. The main living room of your house appeared before your eyes, but it seemed totally neglected, the furniture was worn out, there was dust and mould in every corner, your mother was prostrate on the floor and a figure without a face was on top of her beating her, you heard the screams of a little girl, they were quite familiar, they were yours. That scene began to repeat itself over and over again, reliving your childhood, you fought to try to change it, but you had no control over it or over your mind at that moment, time after time the pain invaded you and although you tried to stop it, it became impossible again. You had entered a loop, you had lost track of time and space, you couldn't run away from it. Your own mind had become part of it.

Your ears only picked up your screams and those of your mother, you kept your eyes open but your vision was not able to see, you fell to your knees wherever you were in reality and you stayed there, until someone managed to locate you.

"I got her," as a faint whisper drifted into the scene you were living. "Okay. You're safe, I've got you."

As if you were again falling into the void your body rose into the air, and the darkness once again hovered over you, causing all your limbs and your brain to go into a deep, eternal sleep.

Without really knowing where you were, you could hear a faint hissing sound that came more and more strongly to your senses. Light broke through your eyelids, which were struggling against their will to open. Familiarity with the space made you realise where you were. The whistling sound was coming from the air hitting the Quinjet, for all was silent inside. You sat up slowly, the mental pain was suffocating, not only because of what you had seen and what you had been through, but because you could feel the same sensations all around you.

You sat up, covering your face with your hands and hiding it between your legs trying to pull yourself together, but at that moment you felt someone kneel down right in front of you and put a hand on the back of your neck.

"What can I do?" Tony's voice sounded cautious, but there was really little he could do in those few square metres of anguish, so you just shook your head. "Okay, look at me," you shook your head again not wanting to have direct access to any more emotions at the moment, "Look at me. Please."

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. 

Your breathing was rapid and your heart kept shrinking, causing a lump in your throat that almost prevented you from breathing. You couldn't extract everything you had inside you, nor could you find the calm you needed to let him go, you were afraid to look at him to interfere with his feelings and manipulate them by offering him yours, you were also afraid of acquiring his negative emotions and adding them to your own. But still you felt his hand go to your chin and he gently lifted it up to catch your face in his gaze.

"In a couple of hours we'll be in a shelter," his face was close, his fingers held firmly on your chin. "Do you think you'll be okay?"

A subtle nod is what you offered in reply, Tony nodded as well and took a seat right next to you after having moved closer to Barton. Those two hours seemed endless, you kept your hands pressed to your temple trying to forget what you had seen, but more so what you had felt. Tony, along with Barton were the only ones who had not suffered the effects of Wanda Maximoff's mind control on you on that occasion, it was evident from the physical and mental state of the other teammates.

Tony stayed by your side for the entire 120 minutes, worried and afraid that everything that had happened was his fault, and it was all coming back to you.

"Stop," you whispered trying to get Tony's attention.

"How?" he whispered and bent his face closer to yours, which was resting on your hands.

"Stop flogging yourself, I've had enough of the others," you pleaded a little rudely, unable to control yourself.

"I'm sorry," he placed his palm on your back, but an uncomfortable gesture from your shoulder caused him to remove it a second later. "I'm sorry."

A couple of hours later, the Quinjet took up position on a large greenish esplanade, the greenest thing your eyes had ever seen in your life. In the centre was a small cottage, cosy enough for anyone to see. Tony held you firmly, as it seemed that your body would fall if he let go. You went inside together, a hospitable warmth surrounded each of your limbs causing you to get some peace in you after hours.

Time seemed to have taken its toll on your senses, as you barely understood half of what was being said around you. But everything changed when two children entered, bringing joy and life to the room, it was the most comforting thing you had felt in weeks, the innocence that each of them possessed was like a breath of fresh air to you. You gently removed your arm from Tony's shoulders, murmuring "I'm feeling better," and he returned an "Okay" with a still worried look on his face. Actually Barton's idea of taking you there had been really successful for all of you, except for Thor who left, but for the rest of you it was something you'd never been able to contemplate in your lives, kind of like what it would be like to have a family.

Sunset was near and the view from that wooden porch surrounding the house was charmingly soothing.

"You look good," Tony appeared behind you with his hands in his pockets and perched next to you, leaning on the railing.

"Thank you," you said, looking back up at the grove of trees that loomed before your eyes. "And thanks for earlier."

" For what?" he asked with confusion in his voice.

"When you tried to reassure me on the Quinjet," you said without looking at him. "And... I think it was also you who took me back."

"Yep," Tony put his hand to the back of his neck and turned to you. "The truth is, that process would have been a lot more feasible if you hadn't gotten rid of the transmitter, it would have saved me a lot of time."

"I know," you ducked your face, but a small smile appeared on it.

"Do you want to talk?" Tony's voice seemed somewhat hesitant after stating the question.

"No," you shook your face, letting the last rays of sunlight fall on him. "Do you want to talk?"

"What do you feel?" he answered your question with another question, ignoring it completely. "What do you feel inside when you feel us?"

"I feel what other people are feeling," you explained, looking at him for the first time. "If I concentrate I can feel what you're feeling right now, or what Steve is feeling, or how the Hulk feels when he turns."

"How?"

That conversation you'd had on several occasions in your life, but at no point had you had it with Tony, you hadn't been close at any point, closeness you could find in Natasha or even Steve, but not in Tony, that's why that moment was peculiar, as well as comforting.

"It's easy when my emotions are in control," you turned your body towards him and leaned against the wooden railing. "I just have to look at my target and focus on how he feels, knowing that whatever is inside him I'm going to feel it too," you focused your gaze on Tony's eyes, "for instance, right now you're remorseful about what happened with Ultron, but you also feel misunderstood because no one understands your point of view, you're also melancholy about being in this place, a little envious about discovering the life that Barton has, and..." you paused slightly as you discovered one of his feelings, but you chose to ignore it, as he seemed to be really nervous about the process of analysis he was undergoing, "embarrassed because right now I'm feeling the same way you are.”

You offered him a slight smile, which he himself returned a little nervously at the exposition you had offered him, Tony was a very rigorous person when expressing himself and this had completely thrown him off.

"That..." he put one hand nervously to the back of his neck while the other was hidden in his trouser pocket. "Great, I guess it's nice to know I'm not empty. But well, we'd better keep this between us."

"Of course," for the first time you felt a little satisfied with your task just done, it was nice to see that this person could shed his pride on several occasions.

"Well, I'd better go and help Rogers chop wood," he said, standing up beside you and scratching the bridge of his nose.

" Yes, he certainly looks like he could use your help," you commented wryly as Steve had little difficulty chopping wood in one fell swoop.

"Yeah," he shoved his hands in his pockets and slipped out of the place as quickly as possible.

Within a minute you could feel him perch next to you again, leaning his body on the railing and looking at you.

"That's all you found?" he asked with a frown and gesturing nimbly with his hand, a gesture that denoted nervousness. "I mean, there was nothing else."

"What do you mean?" you frowned as he did, looking completely puzzled, since you already knew what he meant.

"Well..." he scratched the back of his neck again, "Do you usually do this to me? I mean, have you ever gone inside my head before to see how I'm feeling or have you only done it this once? Is it usual?"

"Do you really think I want to know what you keep in your head Tony?" you asked holding back a laugh at his reaction.

"Okay," he gave a long nod biting the inside of his lip. "And there was nothing else you said?"

"Do you want me to try again? Maybe I can find something else," you offered humbly, knowing what he wanted.

"No, it's... all right," his words were accompanied with a step back, putting distance between you and him. "It's all right. I'm... going to go help Cap."

"Okay," you bit your lower lip as you watched him disappear behind you again. behind you again.

You watched as Tony walked over to Steve's pile of firewood and picked up an axe to imitate his movements. You remained in your position, keeping your gaze lost in that grove of trees that made you feel so calm, but it was very easy to catch Tony's gaze watching you from his position. He knew that you had felt it, because perhaps it was one of the emotions that was strongest inside him at that moment, but evidently you didn't want to expose it out loud, and let him know that you had discovered it. Yet there it was, and it was going to take you too long to forget that feeling, because it felt too good to let it go.

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[sconnie-doesnt-know]

Just a Lick

Characters: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: Language, suggestions of smut, alcohol

Word Count: 800

A/N: Hello new fandom!! So, I have a nice long Ransom fic that I am working on and this is kind of a teaser/time stamp. It’ll be angsty, smutty, fluffy...and loaded with Ransom being that asshole we all want to fuck so badly. It’ll be called C’mon Let’s Pretend. This has not been beta read, so if you notice a big error, please let me know.

This is also written for the Happy Hoelidays 2020 challenge. Prompt is in bold. Thanks to @stargazingfangirl18​ @navybrat817​ and @donutloverxo​ for hosting. Enjoy!

Everyone was cramped in the small apartment, the temperature slowly rising as bodies filled the space. You could feel the heat in your cheeks even without the influence of the drink you slowly sipped as you watched their faces. Loud, obnoxious, shouting over the music. No matter how much time you’d spent with them, you remained the outsider.

You didn’t even plan to come tonight, but there were only so many times you could say no to your friend. You owed her a night out together, even if she practically deserted you as soon as you had arrived. Currently she clung to some guy you think is named Steve, her sparkly Santa hat headband already crooked over her head. She fit right in. Everyone there a mess of shiny tinsel and bright colors for the ugly sweater theme, you included.

Turning to head into the kitchen for a cupcake, you gasp as you bump into someone standing inches in front of you. Not just someone. Him.

Smoothly, as though you turned into him on purpose, his hand reaches for your hip, pulling you into his space as he looks you over.

“You look like you need to be licked,” Ransom says, as he eyes the gaudy candy design all over your Christmas themed dress.

You roll your eyes before you look him up and down. He’s in his usual get-up, including what you’ve determined is his favorite worn-down cream sweater. 

“Congratulations,” You idly pick at the loose threads at the hole by his chest. “You’ve officially won the Ugly Sweater contest,” you tell him flatly. 

“You like this sweater,” he reminds you, one eyebrow arched. The fire behind his gaze guarantees that you’re both thinking of the same memory, though you fight to take the bait.

“You didn’t even bother trying.”

“Well I don’t plan on staying long.”

“Big plans?” you ask, though your tone implies disinterest.

He lowers his head and whispers, “Yeah. You.”

You can’t stop the snort, and bring your hand up to cover up your laugh just a second too late. “I don’t think so. I’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.”

He pulls back to look at you, watching you closely, scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes. “Like?”

“I’m making Christmas cookies.”

He rolls his eyes and lowers his head again, lips ticking just beneath your jaw. “Make ‘em at my place.”

“Oh, am I allowed to spend the night again?”

He quickly nips at your skin, then immediately covers the spot with a kiss that sends tingles down your spine. His breath tickles at the damp spot before he moves his mouth right up to your ear, teasing again.

“Stop making fucking excuses. Make the damn cookies at my place so I can spend the night licking that pretty fucking pussy of yours.”

With the amount of time he’s spent between your legs, it’s not hard to imagine. Your knees just about buckle when he growls, a quiet sound, low and deep right against you.

“Be nice to me, Ransom,” you whisper. It’s a plea, a request, a demand. It’s something you’ve begged of him before, and you know he can’t fulfill it. You catch the eye of your friend on the other side of the room. Her look is one of warning, but also sympathetic, knowing how tangled up your emotions are over the man currently making you swoon.

“And break my streak on the naughty list?” he chuckles, “Come on, sweetheart. I need you tonight. Don’t you need me, too?” His hand starts to stroke the curve by your hip, the other one cradling the back of your head, holding you in place while he weakens you with kisses and nips along the sensitive skin of your neck.

He’s playing you. You know it, but damn him if you don’t want exactly that. Exactly what he’s promising you with his mouth and his hands and his leg that’s pushing between yours and making you stumble back into the wall.

You look past his shoulder one more time, catching your friend again and give her a pathetic wave goodbye. Rationalizing with yourself that at least you’re not leaving alone tonight or waiting on her to either drink herself sick or disappear with a guy herself. That this is what you really wanted anyway.

You pull away from him slightly, grabbing his attention and his eyes are full of mischief already, but clear, “You good to drive?”

He nods and pulls you into a rough, snarling kiss, both of you panting immediately as your bodies start to react, knowing what’s coming. He pulls away when he feels you start to wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and guides you to the door. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”