#‘I’ll let it pass and hold my tongue and you will think that I’ve moved on’ PLEASE I need that for billy actually

[ariesbilly]

Thinking about white flag - dido and harringrove in their late 30s, reunited in Hawkins after spending their 20s in a tumultuous love affair, fighting and fucking with equal passion, the love was always there but billy still had a lot of shit to work through and eventually the whole thing just went up in flames, them parting ways when billy runs off back to California

And billys gone to therapy and worked on himself and isn’t carrying around his anger on his back anymore but even with all the growing he’s done he still holds a torch for Steve… who now, he finds out, is engaged and on his way to starting a whole new life of his own

And they run into each other at max and Lucas’ wedding. A million things are on the tip of billys tongue; confessions, apologies, pleas…

The old tension is still there when he and Steve are left alone together to catch up, and billy thinks if he really wanted to make a move Steve would let him. And god does billy want to…

But he saw Steve with his girl all night. Heard him talking about the wedding plans and the future and as much as it kills billy to admit it, Steve’s happy. And maybe ruining that for selfish reasons is something 20 year old Billy would do but pushing 40 billy is no longer that kid, so he bites his tongue and says goodbye to Steve at the end of the night, letting the past go even if he does spend the rest of the night in bed playing over what would’ve happened if he just kissed Steve like he wanted to, if he didn’t blow things up all those years ago and let Steve love him in a way he wasn’t ready for

[fairyofshampgyu]

Just a Taste

Genre: smut, vampire au, crack, established relationship

Pairing: sub! vampire gyu x gn dom! reader (afab when comes to smut)

Warnings: blood !!!, begging, beomgyu is so whiney, neck biting, dry humping, riding, dacryphilia, face slapping, hair pulling, beomgyu cums literally just from biting their neck lmfao, spit kink, pussy eating, degrading

word count: 2k

Beomgyu lets out a contented hum as he lays down, face buried in your chest whilst you stroke his soft hair, beomgyu totally encompassing and holding your waist tightly in his arms.

Both of you had been cuddling for hours on your bed as beomgyu practically demanded it when he had finally come back, throwing you onto the bed and flopping on top of you despite you nearly being suffocated by his weight and refusing to let you go at all. It’s times like this you question whether your sweet and silly boyfriend was really a vampire. He seemed far from it sometimes.

He suddenly shifts his head to your neck instead, nuzzling and then burying his nose into it as he sighs and takes in a whiff of your scent, “Ah you smell soo good, y/n.” He muffles into you.

“You’re so weird.”

“Can I…can I feed from you? hehe…” He looks up at you mischievously, trying to bat his eyelashes in innocence.

“What? You already had so much!” You raise your brow, looking at him incredulously.

“But-but you taste so good! You’re literally so delicious. You’re like, the best blood I’ve ever tasted in my entire life! How could I not be addicted?” He pouts at you, still attempting to bat his lashes and look up at you cutely so you’ll give in. You usually do if he does it but you don’t seem that relenting at the moment.

You playfully swat at him, "Don't make it sound like I'm your personal blood bank or something.

Beomgyu pouts, "But you are my personal blood bank." He buries his face completely into your neck again.

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult." You laugh and roll your eyes.

Beomgyu grins and wraps his arms tighter around your waist, "Definitely a compliment."

“I’m starting to think you just like me for my blood…” You mutter jokingly, still stroking and playing with his hair.”

“Aw come onn,” he furrows his brows a little and stares at you, bringing his hand up to your face and grabbing your chin, moving it so you look directly into his eyes, “You know I love you, baby. Your blood…is just an added bonus. A very good bonus~”

He grins, making a little ‘:>’ face as he attempts to hold in his laughter. That earns him another playful slap as he giggles, “Ow ow! Sorry, sorry!”

“You’re so annoying.”

And he begins his dramatics again. “I might diee! I’ll dieeee pleaseee you don’t want your vampire boyfriend to like, disintegrate to dust or something do you?” He laces his hands with yours and squeezes them tightly, bringing them up to your face as he gives you puppy dog eyes, raised brow awaiting an answer.

“Think I’m gonna pass…” You say and he releases a little bratty ‘mmph’ at that, but goes on to nuzzle his face further into your neck.

He brushes his nose and lips repeatedly against the soft skin, closing his eyes and trying to make you change your mind, beginning to pepper little kisses.

He then gets harsher with his kisses, sucking onto your neck, leaving little bruises until he licks a stripe of your neck with his tongue and then marks up your neck more. “Gyu!”

“What? I’m not doing anything…” He grins with faux innocence.

That’s when you’ve had enough, you pull him up, changing positions and straddling his lap. He smirks, thinking he’s finally going to get what he wants as you lean in to press his lips against yours, making out with him intensely, lips moving and smacking against each other. You pull his body closer to you, grinding onto him and lets out a little gasp but his smirk only widens, gripping your waist even tighter and trying to roll your body on his for more friction.

“Hmm~ gonna let me taste you?” He asks, smiling smugly against your mouth, looking at you with half lidded eyes as you continued to grind your body against his clothed cock.

“No.” That makes him stop his movements, smug smile faltering and face falling.

“Please…please.” His fangs had begun to show now, glimmering under the moonlight reflecting from the window, looking at you with his dazed eyes and fluttering his eyelashes so sexily, brows furrowed. Him with his fangs was always a sight to see. He looked even more attractive like that.

“Such a pretty vampire.” You coo at him, caressing and stroking his cheek as he leans into it despite his sulking.

“Y/nnn…” Beomgyu whines out your name.

You pull your hair back, baring your neck and leaning down to him, his eyes widen and sparkle and he opens his mouth, fangs peeking out more as he gets ready to feed from you excitedly.

Then, as soon as he leans forward, you pull your neck quickly away and giggle. He furrows his brows even deeper, whining so annoyingly loud in frustration as you still laugh, clearly very amused at his reaction.

You do it again just to see if he’ll be dumb enough to fall for it and he does, leaning forwards fast again only for you to pull away from his mouth, teasing him.

“You’re so mean.” He pouts and whines so incredibly much at you, bottom lip jutting out and acting like a brat. You tease him again, but this time he tries to desperately and pathetically pull your neck back to his mouth.

“You’re such a fucking spoilt brat.” You slap his cheek loud and hard. Beomgyu gasps and holds his reddened cheek, face turned to the side in the pillow, hair messily covering his eyes as he blinks hazily, mouth agape.

“A-again…” Beomgyu hiccups, teary, starry eyed, and shocked. He doesn’t know why but his fangs tingle at that despite aching this entire time.

You hesitantly slap his cheek again and then do it again and again, softly rubbing and caressing the area of his cheek before striking it each time, still grinding and humping against his bulge as he whimpered and whined with every slap, hissing and scrunching his face up into the pillow. Still continuous pleas leaving his mouth of tasting your blood as tears began to roll down his red cheeks every now and then.

You coo at him sarcastically, “Aww poor baby not getting what he wants?” He sniffles and nods his head, sounding like a broken record as he begged for your blood.

“P-please…need it! Just a taste…please….”

“Awww.” You wipe at his tears as they continuously fall down. His bottom lip wobbles and trembles as he looks up at your eyes purely devastated, mouth heavily downturned.

You decide to finally give in and he practically leaps forward to your neck, eyes crazed, not wasting any time and sinking his sharp fangs deep into your neck, puncturing and piercing your skin with two holes.

He drinks your blood feverishly and ferociously, eyes fluttering open and closed as he clings onto you so tightly, letting out a long moan of pure ecstasy as you do the same.

“Tastes so good…ah…mmh.” He groans muffled against your neck.

You begin to feel lightheaded despite the pleasure as beomgyu doesn’t seem to stop, drinking and on the verge draining your blood, sucking, slurping, and licking deeply as the blood seeped and gushed out all over your neck.

Beomgyu’s eyes roll back as he loudly moans and shudders, feeling an overwhelming pleasure course through his body and he cums completely in his pants on the spot. You feel the sticky and wet patch on his sweats against you as his face flushes in shock and embarrassment and he whimpers. He’s never cum just from biting your neck before.

He finally pulls away, panting heavily and eyes glazed over, ‘thank you’s escaping his mouth repeatedly as he still clung onto you with a death grip, hiding his face into your neck and body shaking.

You grab his chin and make him look up at you, using your thumb to wipe and smear the blood that dribbled and dripped down his puffy lips. His pretty fangs were all bloodied too and he gazed up at you so pathetically, so, so pretty. You pull his chin further up and part his lips, spitting into his mouth and he takes it pliantly, your spit mixing with the blood already in his mouth and he swallows, still looking up at you with his round eyes.

Sometimes you fail to remember he’s supposed to be a feared monster but you’re not scared, he hangs onto (mostly) your every beck and call, your own personal, pretty vampire boy that does (somewhat) absolutely everything you say, let’s you do everything and anything you want to him, he’s so obsessed with you. Or maybe it’s the other way round.

You smash your lips with his, making out with him so incredibly messy, your blood and both your saliva mixing. You can feels his fangs graze your lips and you lick at them as he smiles and softly bites at your lips.

He suddenly moves down your body and his head is already instantly between your legs, gripping on your thighs, not even asking before he’s ruthlessly sucking and practically making out with your pussy, fangs lightly grazing against your pussy and your clit making you shiver immensely.

One thing you know beomgyu is definitely good at is going down on you. He eats you so incredibly fucking well, better than anyone has, always so eager and puppy dog eyes sending you over the edge every time.

Beomgyu bites at your thigh softly and presses a few kisses and sucks a few hickeys before burying his face between them again, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking on it intensely. You pull and tug on his hair and he moans so fucking loudly as if he was the one in pleasure, tongue fucking you so desperately.

You try to pull his face away from your pussy but he whines, “I want you to cum though…need to make you cumm” he says wanting to eat you out as full gratitude, as a trade for your blood.

“Yeah, on your cock” he goes wide eyed at that and as much as he loves eating your pussy, he can’t complain at all at the moment, he’s been wanting you to fuck him so bad. His sweatpants still all soiled in his cum, cock aching and throbbing so badly this entire time, wanting to cum actually inside you.

You move to be on top of him again, straddling his waist and pulling his sticky dick out of his sweats, placing it to your entrance and sinking down on it completely as you both groan at the feeling. Beomgyu holds onto your waist shakily, watching you as he bites his lip and throws his head back.

You begin to fuck him at an unrelenting pace immediately, bouncing on his cock up and down that your pussy smacks with his balls every time you sink back down, stickiness and skin slapping noises so lewd around the room. Beomgyu can’t contain his moans at all, never one to anyway, but his mouth hangs open continuously as the strings and series of loud and high pitched whines and moans leave his mouth one after the other, seemingly getting louder every second.

Forearm thrown over his face as you lace his other hand with yours, grasping his hand tightly as you ride him even faster and harder. He begins to thrust up as well, rutting up into you as he whines he’s close, breathing becoming ragged and heavy.

You feel him squeeze your laced hand and grip onto it hard one last time as his body shudders and writhes and with a drawled, high pitched, pretty cry of your name, beomgyu releases thick ropes of his hot sticky cum deep inside you.

Your pace not slowing down as you continued fucking him to reach your own high, pushing his hips back down on the bed and keeping them there and beomgyu didn’t even seem capable of moving or doing anything other than laying beneath you and taking it, whining quietly as he squirmed underneath you until your own eyes roll back.

“How come you always end up getting your way?” You pant, slumping on top of beomgyu’s body.

He giggles, though still trying to catch his breath, “Because you can’t resist your handsome vampire bf and you love mee. Although you were so mean, teasing me like that.” Beomgyu pouts playfully, looking down at you.

“You liked it though. You’re such a whore for stuff like that.”

“I did~” He grins and kisses your forehead. Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and sad when fics have such little reblogs ☹️ Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write :) !

A/n: I’m deranged w no sleep so if it makes no sense and is shit that is why🤞. Also it is unedited

[whatthefishh]

house of balloons.

Marc Spector x f!reader

Warnings: unprotected p in v, spit, choking, slight breeding kink, Marc’s sweaty neck, cream pie, Dom/sub dynamic if you squint

Word count: 1.4K

AN: nobody asked for this but I’m giving it to you anyway. Beta’d by my bb @moonknightly ❤️

The way Marc was taking his time with you tonight was getting the best of you.

It wasn’t a particularly healthy relationship but it was what each of you could handle. He’d message you in the late hours of the night and conveniently for you, it would be on the nights you were too restless to sleep, in need of what only he could give you.

You don’t think he loves you. You definitely don’t love him, but you love the way he fills you up, his cock hitting the precise spot inside your hot and needy cunt that neither your fingers nor your toys could reach, the smug face he wore telling you everything you needed to know.

Your hands squeezed his shoulders where they were sweaty and bare, his own hands gripping your ass every time you sank down on his cock on the couch in your living room.

One of his hands moved to grip your jaw, thumb tugging on your bottom lip until you opened your eyes in question only to get caught in the most intense eye contact you’ve ever had with him. Marc continued to watch you as he pulled your pliant mouth open wider, and, while keeping his eyes on yours, leaned forward to fucking spit in your waiting mouth.

And God, you were so easy for him, you swallowed it down without hesitation.

At that you both groaned, and he leaned forward to do it again, kissing you tongue first right after letting it dribble down into your mouth. Suddenly, the pressure in your abdomen skyrocketed, your leaking pussy clamping down on Marc’s thick cock. Your spine seized up, hands reaching to entangle themselves in his hair as you neared your climax, desperate to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure threatening to drown you.

“Marc, ohh—“

“Fuck sweetheart, is that what you want? Huh?” He punctuated his question with a squeeze to your jaw, shaking your head a little.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to squeeze you tighter, choke you a little harder until you passed out. You were getting close to the edge, the wet sounds your pussy made loud in the otherwise silent apartment. You weren’t aware of the noises you were making, completely lost in the feelings Marc was bringing out in you.

“You know, I think about you sometimes. Whether you make noise when it’s just you and your fingers… you’re so loud, honey. How does nobody complain?”

Your thighs burned, for sure to be aching the next day to serve as a reminder of this moment. Pulling his face into your neck from his hair was your attempt at shutting him up, being more aggressive with it than usual but it only served to make him groan with pleasure.

“God, I’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. I think she missed me, too, leaking all over me. Such a mess,” he bit and licked at the junction in your neck. “I’ll clean you up after, don’t worry.”

You squeezed around him tighter at his words while Marc’s hands squeezed your ass on your way down, holding you there for a second before lifting you up and repeating it until he was basically using you like his own personal toy.

“Please,” you managed weakly.

You don’t even know what you’re asking for. Something, anything to free you. You needed the release and he was the only one who could give it to you now. You had a feeling Marc knew this, was using it to his advantage as he continued to grab and pull at your flesh with borderline animosity, channeling all of his feelings from the day and towards you into his large fingers, pressing and pressing and pressing.

“You gotta ask me, baby, c’mon use your words.”

Oh, fuck him.

Pretending to lean closer to whisper in his ear, you switched at the last second to pounce and bite down hard on Marc’s meaty shoulder, not being gentle while gnawing at his golden flesh. A loud groan was heard in your ear, encouraging you to repeat the action on the next space of golden tanned skin available to you. And while his fingers continued pressing bruises into your skin, his thrusts became all of a sudden erratic, pulling you down and grinding you on him, selfishly in search of his own release.

“Inside, inside,” you said breathlessly.

And with one last thrust, his hands still gripping your hips hard enough to hurt a little, he threw his head back. Your cunt fluttered around him as you came on his cock before you felt his warm cum trickling down and around where you were joined.

Marc’s bulging neck and heaving chest enticed you to lean forward again and lick at the sweat beading on his collarbone before he pushed your head away with a hand on your sternum. Sighing and pulling out, you both went quiet watching his spend leak out of you, twitching when he shoved it back inside with two fingers and fucking you with them a couple of times for good measure.

“Mmm.”

Whimpering when he pulled out again, you collapsed on your side against the cushions, focusing on evening out your breathing. Meanwhile, Marc was trying to fight his sudden instinct to stay with you and hold you, curl you up into a ball so that you may fit softly against him the way he dreamed about.

Deciding to cover you with a blanket instead, he quickly got dressed and hovered above you, avoiding eye contact before dropping a soft and lingering kiss on your forehead, only serving to confuse the fuck out of you. He never acted this way after sleeping with you, albeit tonight was a little more … intense, you could say.

You had to admit, it felt nice. Good, even.

Fuck, okay, it felt amazing. And now there was a look in his eye, kind of like he didn’t want to leave, kind of like he wanted to go again, stay the night, whisper sweet nothings to you while you lay in his arms until sunrise. Or maybe you were projecting.

A crease developed between his brows before he swiftly made his way to the door, his walk stiff and jaw set. You were probably projecting. He didn’t want to stay. Why would he? Like you said, you weren’t in love. You were just one of his girls.

“Uhh, yeah, well. See you around.”

Even his tone sounded more awkward than usual. Hovering near the entryway, shuffling, hands twiddling, he looked nothing like the Marc you knew for a moment. His shoulders hunched forward and for a split second his eyes went ridiculously soft.

Unlocking your door and making his way to the elevators, he headed down the hall, hearing a few heavy steps before your door swung shut. Just like that, he was gone.

You don’t know what you thought you saw, or if it was just something you wanted to see. You felt like a child again, a rejected little girl who’s crush wouldn’t play with them on the playground. The one time you let the silly hope shine in your eyes while looking up at the gorgeous man who you’ve come to realize you do sort of have feelings for, at least a little bit, was the only time Marc needed to see it before running away.

You’re not sure how long you lay there naked under the throw with his cum drying on your inner thigh before a couple of unsuspecting and quiet knocks sounded at your door. The weight of the hand behind the door didn’t sound familiar; maybe it was a neighbour who came to complain about the noise.

Wrapping the blanket around you like a shawl, you awkwardly (and sorely) padded to the door, opening it an inch before seeing the man who just bolted from your apartment back and looking uncomfortable. Maybe he forgot something.

“I forgot something.”

Opening the door wider for him, fully expecting him to immediately go looking for his wallet, keys, whatever it was, you don’t intend on watching him like a kicked puppy.

But Marc surprises you. He enters your home, shuts the door and still has that face of confusion on from earlier before he pulls you into his chest, his arms going around your waist as he hugs you close.

“Promised I’d clean you up, remember?” He whispers in your ear.

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Ding dong, here’s the final chapter! I have an epilogue in mind so that may come later, but for now, Thanks  so so much for the response to this series and Enjoy!

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3

[talking] [talking passes]

Gai: You knew right away, didn’t you? Kka: Correct. I knew something was wrong when you weren’t trying to do situps or anything..... You little criminal, who smuggled that in for you? Gai: Naruto

Kks: How did you get him to do that? /I/ cant even get Naruto to do things. The tear tracks and shit eating grin are cute. Kinda wanna kiss you. Gai: Don’t let me be a hindrance to-

Gai: What are you giggling about? Kks: I just remembered

Kks: I get to hold over your head that I held mirai before you. Gai: You what?! Your first baby hold and I missed it? Get off of me Kks: So mean! Near death made you crabby. Gai: I won’t give into this Kks: You will, you always succumb. [gai sighs annoyed]

Gai: [Groans] When are they making you swear in as hokage? Kks: That’s not happening anymore thankfully. Gai: Huuuh?? Tenzou didn’t tell me that!

Gai: He said Lady Tsunade was retiring and you were the only choice. Naruto even tried to- Kks: Where do you think i’ve been all day? I convinced her to hold out until Naruto or whoever  took over next. Gai: How did you smooth talk that one? Kks: I agreed to do her paperwork and cover for when she needs R&R. I also advised her to ditch the elders so she can actually run this shit show right. Gai: And they... took that well? The elders? Kks: No, not at all. Let’s just say I said some... things that made them backtrack on their decision.

Gai: YOu cant just say that and not tell me now!! I gotta know! Kks: Well... Homura: Absolutely not! Kks: If I am appointed, I’ll be replacing you regardless. Naruto certainly will. It’s inevitable. Koharu: Those kids don’t know how this village runs!

Kks:Those kids just won your war and this is how you speak of them. Or are “those kids“ only respectable to you when they’re eager to die at your beckon call and shut up. Elders: How dare- Watch your tongue! Kks: I won’t be someone who you can walk all over. Things will change. Just so my intentions are clear

Gai: What next?! Kks: That’s is really. Kinda tuned the rest out and passed out for 3 hours. Gai: Rival, I was so invested Kks: Sorry Gai: So you agreed to essentially split the work of a hokage but not publicly take the title? Kks: Mhm Gai: So cool! Apologies, I had just assumes since you were gonna accept last time Kks:[hums] Things changed. Konoha’s not on the brink of war, Tsunade’s still here. The village can breathe and rebuild now.

Kks: After a glimpse of the hassle and public attention the last time, I’m just... Not interested in any of that. I’ve never dreamed or desired to be the hokage. That was always something others wanted /for/ me. So I said no. I know you were happy for me so- Gai: Kakashi

Gai: I’m so very proud of you for expressing how you truly feel. You and tsunade will do amazing work supporting the next generation. Even If you chose to retire today, I’d still be just as proud of you. Also a selfish part of me if happy to have more time with you. [kks huffs]

Kks: I’m proud of you too, y’ know. All your hard work, you’re fucking incredible. Glad my dad made me talk to the cool kid in the green jumpsuit. 2nd coolest shinobi. Gai: Only took 25 years, but I’ve finally caught your eye! Kks: Yup, let’s move in together.

Gai: WHAT?1 Whu-! Kks: I’m fixing up dad’s old house with Tenzou. you should live there with me Gai: Why? Kks: Why are yo suspicious? I’m serious. Space, accessibility for you... I want you around more. Gai: Ok Kks: Ok? Gai: An exciting change is just what my youthful journey needs!! Kks: So yes?

Gai: I would love to share a home with you, Rival [kks giggling] What now?

Kks: Did I just make you succumb, Gai-kun? Gai: When can we have a match next, I need to consensually slap you in the head [kks laughs] Why did you say it like that? Kks: I’m sorry! Your pout looks so cute.... You are still moving in with me, right? That wasnt a joke.

Gai: I’m gonna let you sweat on that one awhile... [whimpers]

Kks: Love you so much, Gai

[gai snoring]

[gai snoring]

[danikamariewrites]

Take Them All Down (part 1)

Rhysand x reader

A/n: with all things I write I don’t really know what part of my brain this came from. I’ve had this story idea for a while I just never had characters to use it with. Maybe one day I’ll use it with my own but until then enjoy Rhys with a depression beard. Idk why but I mated Az and Feyre plz don’t be mad.

Warnings: death, angst, poison, blood, reader buried alive

You came to with a sharp inhale. The first thing you see is Beron Vanserra smirking down at you. You try to sit up but quickly find the male is kneeling on your chest. As you struggle against him he clicks his tongue at you. “Now, now y/n. None of that.”

You gave up. Tired from the brutal hours you spent fighting Hybern’s army. Before you could scream Beron gripped your jaw so tight he forced your mouth open. He dumped a small vial of clear liquid down your throat, quickly forcing your jaw shut so you’d swallow.

Once he let go up you started coughing, gasping for air. “What the fuck did you do to me?” You croaked out. Drowsiness started to take over your body. Your limbs feeling weak and tired. You fight the urge to close your eyes, attempting to flip your body so you could crawl to Rhys.

As your eyes closed you saw Beron’s mouth move but you couldn’t hear his threatening words. You just drifted off into an endless darkness.

——

It felt like you heard years pass as you stayed in the darkness. You heard Rhys cry out in anguish. A priestess and a somber organ and then nothing.

——

It’s been one month. One month without you and Rhys had become a ghost. He rarely leaves the Town House. Amren and Mor have been running the court. Cassian, Azriel, and Feyre are out of ways to help him.

The High Lord has barley said a word since you died. He just spends his days draped in an armchair, a glass of never ending whiskey clutched in his hand. Rhys had stopped shaving. A dark scruffy beard now covering his sharp jawline. And the bags under his eyes deepened as the days pass.

Rhys knows his family means well but it didn’t make him feel any better as he overheard their constant muttering. “What do we do?” “Has he ever been this bad before?” “He wasn’t like this after under the mountain.” “I’m worried he’s going to do something…drastic.”

If Rhys had the energy to move he would’ve left the Town House weeks ago. But this was your favorite place. He couldn’t just abandon it to collect dust. Rhys scratched at his beard and cleared his throat. The conversation in the hall paused for a moment as the family listened for a moment and went back to their whispers.

—

The five of them held their breath for a beat, then let go as the sound of ice clinking against glass breaks the silence. Cassian scrubs at his face with both hands. Amren shakes her head. Azriel speaks up first, “I’m out of answers.” Mor hugs herself and Feyre holds Azriel’s hand.

“What about other friends?” Mor asks. Azriel shakes his head. “I have intel that Helion and Kallias have been dealing with their own issues.” He lowers his voice more, “Day and Winter are in trouble. They may collapse in months, weeks even.” Amren’s eyes widen in shock. “Why?” She spits out. Azriel shrugs. It’s killing him to not have the answer.

Amren let’s out a huff as she voices what everyone fears. “We might be headed for the same fate if something doesn’t change.” They all look to the sitting room, sending up a prayer to the Mother.

——

It was hard opening your eyes. You still felt groggy from the battle. And then you remember Beron kneeling on you. The clear liquid burning down your throat. You jolted up but hit your head on something hard, forcing you down again.

Your eyes fly open. Your breathing fast and hard. It’s pitch black. You feel around the dark enclosed space. It’s getting harder to breathe.

Cushioned siding and smooth wood meet your fingertips. Your mind is racing. Then it clicks. Beron put you in a suspended state. The bastard fooled everyone into thinking you were dead.

Oh Mother, Rhys! Your mate was tricked into burying you.

You felt anger surge through you. Resting your palms against the smooth cold wood. Taking one more deep breath you pull back your fist, throwing all the strength you have into splintering the wood. It didn’t budge.

You switched fists. Willing the wood to break under your knuckles. You kept alternating fists. Punching again, and again, and again, and again.

A scream ripped from your lips and heavy tears started flowing from your eyes in waves. You didn’t yield. Continuing your assault on the coffin holding you back from the world.

Dirt finally fell through a crack onto your stomach. You jerked and felt something metal against your leg. They buried you with your sword. Strapping it to the belt of your dress you went back to breaking open the coffin. Your knuckles were gushing blood, stinging from the loose wood and dirt.

Another wave of strength and anger came over you and started kicking at the lid. The lid splintered in half allowing dirt to spill in. You sputtered as it fell into your mouth and eyes. Willing your arms to move you push the dirt away from you.

You begin to dig upwards. Crawling all six feet to the surface of the earth.

That was the tough part. Punching through the tightly packed ground was harder than the coffin. As your fist broke the ground you spread your fingers, feeling the cool night air.

Punching over and over again you got both arms out. You push the ground apart with what little strength you have left, pulling yourself from the grave. Gasping down air lighting cracked above. You rest for a moment, curling up on the ground.

Rolling on to your back a wail comes up from your chest. More tears run down your face, leaving tracks on the dirt coating your face.

A blood curdling scream of anger comes next.

Rain begins to pelt your face. You breathe a sigh of relief. You feel alive again.

You want to see Rhys but the need for revenge is overpowering. The anger rattles your bones as you begin to shake.

Flipping over you push yourself up on tired and bloody hands. Fingers seeping in to muddy ground. You focus on breathing and your ability to winnow.

As your power flows through you, you focus on getting as close to the Forest House as possible. Wards be damned. Let him know you’re in his court. In his home. Death is coming for Beron Vanserra and you will be the last person he ever sees.

—

Rapid and hard knocks shake the door of the Town House. Cassian rips it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. A city guard is standing in the rain looking worried and disheveled. Tilting his head at the guard Cassian noticed the male seemed pale.

“What is it?” “I am sorry to disturb at this hour but there is something the High Lord must know.” Cassian’s brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing. “The High Lady’s grave it’s…been disturbed.” Cassian almost fell to his knees. “How?”

The guard looked like he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “Speak!” The General commanded. “It’s been dug up, sir.”

Cassian left the door open as he rushed to the sitting room. The Inner circle looked to him with curious faces. “Rhys,” he strode over to kneel before his brother. “Y/n’s grave, it’s…”

Rhys showed his first sign of emotion in weeks. It was unreadable. He shot up from his seat and pushed past the group to the front door. Rhys broke out into a sprint in the pouring rain. They followed and didn’t stop until your grave came into sight.

He halted inches away from the ripped up ground. Dropping to his knees Rhys’s lip trembled as tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t scent another person. Just you. Only one thing was on his mind as he broke out into hysteric laughter.

There had been something off about your death- Rhys just couldn’t verbalize it until now. The mating bond wasn’t gone it was just…dull. Like it was waiting to wake up again. Azriel and Cassian wrapped Rhys in their arms tightly.

“She’s alive,” he forced out through laughter and tears. The group looked at each other concerned. Azriel’s shadows were swirling around like crazy. Covering your tombstone, the hole in the ground, and the ripped up grass around them.

They finally came back to rest by his shoulders. One circling his rounded ear. As the shadow whispered Azriel’s eyes widened at their report.

He looked to Cassian, bewildered. It was true. You are alive. And the shadows haven’t a clue where you went. They needed a plan. And there are too many questions.

—

You ended up at the bottom of the main stairs of the Forest House. The guards didn’t notice you until it was too late. You beheaded them, kicking the doors in.

Stomping down the hall you sliced through each guard you came across. Leaving a trail of blood to the throne room. One of Beron’s sons, you don’t know which one, didn’t care, tried to fight. You brought him down to his knees keeping a death grip around his throat with your arm.

Entering the throne room you climbed up the dais throwing the male down hard, your sword poised at his throat. Guards and other court members rushed in.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t drop your scowl or lower your sword. You wouldn’t back down from Beron. “Bring me Beron Vanserra or he loses another son!” For emphasis you pushed your blade against the trembling males throat.

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter eight: silver lining

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Series trope: Fake dating 

Chapter eight summary: Going to a ball with Enzo, you play a game to keep things interesting. 1k words.

Warning: Fluff, no use of y/n, suggestive.

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“My lady,” Enzo smiles at me, arm outstretched to take my hand, the other poised behind him.

I giggle and take his hand. “Why, thank you my lord.”

We walk up the stairs into the ornate ballroom, glistening in white and gold. The place is flush with velvet, silk, and other fineries adorning the room and guests with their bright smiles and heads held high. 

“It’s been years since I’ve been to one of these,” I remark, taking in the grandeur.

“I promise it will be a fun evening,” Enzo reassures me. “Why has it been so long?”

“My mother loved these events and used to take me with her all the time,” I smile at the memory. “When she passed away, her memory haunted me whenever I tried to go. It wasn’t the same anymore. She was radiant, Enzo. An unforgettable woman,” I gush.

“She must be,” he agrees, “to have such a wonderful daughter take after her.”

I lean into him, “oh come now, no one will hear our conversation. No need to say that for The Book.”

“Okay,” he says, “but I mean it.”

I grab a champagne flute to try to hide my blush.

After greeting everyone we knew, we settle into a corner of the ballroom. “So how exactly are we going to make it fun?” I ask.

“Let’s play a game of guess the conversation. Let’s pick people chatting together and try and guess what they’re saying based on how their lips move.”

The champagne fizzing on my tongue makes me bold. “What if we take it to the next level? Would you be able to guess what I say if I move my lips against yours?”

Enzo meets my eyes and visibly blushes. I grin at him, “maybe that’s should be our game,” I say, moving my lips to his ear. “Who can make each other blush the most?”

Mischief glints at the corner of his eye, “oh you’re on.”

“May I have this dance?” He asks as the music starts up.

We make our way to the dance floor and join the crowd. Enzo places his hand on my waist and holds my other hand. I rest my free hand on his shoulder and we move to the music.

“I’ll go first,” Enzo says. “You look really beautiful tonight.”

“Okay, new rule. You must only say what’s true and not for the sake of the game. Deal?”

“Sure,” he agrees. “I still stand by what I said.”

“Well you’re not too bad either in that suit. You look very princely, but I bet those clothes would look better on the bedroom floor.”

He chuckles, “oh we’re going there? Well, I think if you call me a prince…instead of calling you my princess, would you rather I call you a good girl?”

“Hmm that depends, you can’t call me a good girl when I want to do bad things to you.”

Enzo closes his eyes and groans. “You know bad girls get punished, how would you like to learn your lesson?”

“Using mnemonics,” I quip. “Which, as we’ve established, is not a made up word.”

Enzo laughs at my change in subject. “Thanks for coming here with me tonight. Now everyone in high society knows I’ve claimed you as mine.”

“Oh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I did not wink, unless you’d like me to?” 

I smirk and focus on our dance. Beneath the glowing chandelier and the intoxicating buzz of champagne in my veins, it’s getting more and more difficult to rein in my restraints.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

“Thank you,” I tell Enzo after he walks me to my dorm.

“I should be thanking you, this phase of The Book is a success.”

“A lot of words were said tonight,” I begin and Enzo blushes at the memory.

“We don’t have to actually do anything, words can just be words,” he says gently.

I nod and wish him good night. As he turns and takes a few steps away from me, I hesitate. “Wait, Enzo.”

He looks back at me expectantly.

“Will you help me with my dress? It’s quite complicated to untie by myself.” 

He visibly gulps and nods as I lead him to my dorm.

After closing the door, Enzo moves behind me and starts working on untying my gown. String by string, pieces of silk come undone at his touch. I feel his warm breath at the nape of my neck and welcome the sparks of electricity that bloom where his skin grazes mine. I remind myself to breathe.

In the darkness of my room, alone again with Enzo in our own world, I can no longer keep lying to myself. “Enzo,” I breathe out, surprised by how touch starved my voice sounds.

“Yes?” He replies in an equally breathless voice.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I confess. His fingers freeze at my sudden declaration as he waits for me to go on.

I turn around and meet his eyes, “when this all started a few months ago, I was angry and looking to get revenge on Mattheo. I never expected -” I falter and gather myself.

“I never expected to get to know this amazing guy who’s funny, kind and is the best fake boyfriend. I never expected I could feel happy again after everything that happened. Enzo?”

“Hmm?” He asks encouragingly.

“You’re my silver lining.”

Enzo’s face lights up at my confession, “I thought I was the only one who felt something.”

I shake my head, “how could I not? I feel at home with you.”

He smiles, “falling for me, dear?”

I laugh, leaning into him, “actually yes, I am Enzo.”

He pulls me in for a hug. “I caught you, darling,” he says and we both giggle at how cheesy we sound.

When we pull apart, I look into his eyes and admit, “Enzo, I want this to be real.”

“I think it’s been real to me for a while,” he confesses. 

I smile and kiss him. Just like that, the sweetness of the moment is ignited with heat.

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A/N: Alexa, play Dress by Taylor Swift. The next chapter will be pure smut!

Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05 @enha-stan @skb4000 @nat1221 @s0urw00lf @helpimhopelesslyinlove

[perpetualfox]

Hi! I saw you write dub con but since there are a lot of layers, I would like to know what you consider dubcon and if you would write some headcanons for the 141 + Alejandro with a dubcon experience

Dub-Con Extravaganza - 141 + Alejandro x GN Reader [NSFW]

Warnings: Dub-Con, Rough Handling, Possessive Behavior, Oral, Overstimulation, Exhibitionism, Burning, Authority Kink, First Time, Breath Play, Choking, Edging

Wordcount: 2440

Thank you so much for the request. I hope you enjoy it!

For anyone who is curious, here's a quick link to my updated request guidelines for an updated on consent related content on this blog.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

→ “If you don’t stop squirmin’ about, I’m gonna have’ta hold you down, baby.”

→ You whine incoherently as he mumbles against your inner thigh. The low rumble of his voice thrums through you, rich and comforting despite the threat. Your flesh burns, scraped nearly raw by the rough caress of his stubble, and your fingers ache, cramping from clutching so tightly in his short, curling hair.

→ He’s been at it for what felt like hours, bringing you to the edge and over it again and again with little more than his clever tongue. Your thighs ran slick with saliva and your own arousal, the bedsheets beneath you damp with it. Every pass of his tongue was agony upon your frayed and sparking nerves—even the gentle puffs of his breathing were overwhelming.

→ If you had had the wherewithal to speak, you might have begged him to stop, to let you rest, to come down from one high before it could bleed into the next. But, God, he was good to you. And you longed to be good for him in return—to be worthy of the attention he so lovingly laid upon you, to deserve every flicker of that tongue. And he had asked for so little, only that you lay still and take it; to be good. Dimly, with what little of your mind is still capable of higher thinking, you wonder if you can.

→ You try, honestly you do, but it’s just too much. As he licks another stripe slow and wide against your sensitive flesh, your whole body tenses, hips jerking away from the brilliant heat of his mouth. Unwilling to let you escape, Gaz follows the movement, slick tongue pressing in harder, flickering relentlessly against you. Your eyes roll back, jaw going slack, his name both a prayer and a curse as it tumbles from your lips.

→ A moment later, he’s gone—withdrawing from you completely. You sob, body collapsing, limp and useless beneath him. You aren’t sure which was worse: the brutal pleasure of his mouth on you, or the pitiful throbbing that descends in his absence.

→ He makes a disappointed sound high in the back of his throat, “I warned you.”

→ In a flash, he’s moving, shifting his weight, and pinning your hips against the mattress with strong, gun-roughened hands. Then his tongue is on you again, laving against your most sensitive spots, and though you try to squirm, to kick your legs, to buck him off, he doesn’t budge, his fingers only tightening on your hips. He pulls back a fraction and glances up at you, with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

→ “Oh no, baby. You’re not going anywhere,” he rasps, “Not until I’m finished with you.”

John 'Soap' MacTavish

→ The lighter snaps open. A small flame hisses to life, illuminating the sharp edge of Soap’s jaw for just a moment before the end of his cigarette catches, and he snaps it shut again.

→ “Put that thing out, Soap. You know I hate the smell of ‘em.”

→ He leans against the brick wall of the alley, bracing his hip against the stone, and takes a long drag. He holds the smoke deep in his lungs for a moment, revelling in the rush of nicotine in his system, before blowing it back out into the night. The cloud of it hangs around him for a moment—a wispy halo caught in the sour glow of a streetlamp.

→ “Nah, don’ think I will.”

→ “I’m not in the mood to argue, Soap. Put it out.”

→ “I’m no’ arguin’, and I’m no’ puttin’ it out. ‘S a free alley. I’ve lit up, an’ now I intent to have my smoke.”

→ “I’ll give you three seconds.”

→ He barked out a laugh that made your blood boil, “Or what—you’ll do it for me? I don’ think so.”

→ You round on him, closing the distance in three quick steps, but he was ready. He catches your arm as you reach for him and twists it backward. You cry out as he spins you about, bending the arm behind your back and pinning it there. Your shoes slip against the slick pavement, but Soap held you firmly upright.

→ You struggle against him, spitting curses and trying to break his hold, but he’s stronger by an order of magnitude. He huffs out a laugh, leaning down to nuzzle against your shoulder. You can smell the smoke on his breath and feel the heat from his cigarette, still lit in his other hand. He holds it aloft, casually caught between two fingers, closer to your cheek than you’d like. The stink of it makes your head swim.

→ His voice is low and raspy as he drags his lips across the bare skin of your neck, “Such a pretty thing…”

→ He brings the cigarette back to his lips, sliding his hand down to pop the button of your jeans. You bite your lip as he slips his hand beneath the rough denim, his fingers leaving burning against your skin, scarred knuckles brushing against your most sensitive spots. You whine long and low into the night, leaning back against him as your knees go weak.

→ “Such a fuckin’ slut you are, hey? Lettin’ me do this oot here where anyone could see…” The warmth of his body cuts through the damp chill of the evening, the heat of him burning through his jacket and your own. You squirm in his grip, but he holds you fast, chuckling deep in his throat.

→ He rolls his head to the side and takes another drag from the cigarette. “Bet tha’ thought gets you excited.” His fingers press against you a little harder, “So it does,” You can all but hear the grin in his voice. “I can feel it.”

→ He rolls his hips against your ass, and as he shifts, you can feel the hard press of his cock through his jeans, “Guess, it gets me excited too.”

→ He swings your body around, pressing your cheek hard against the slimy wall of the alley. ‘If I’m to fuck you proper, I’ll have to be rid of this,” He plucks the cigarette from him mouth, keeping you pinned against the wall with his hips.

→ His fingers claw at the neckline of your shirt, “Soap? What are you doing?”

→ “You told me to put it out, so I’m putting it out.”

→ That’s all the warning you receive before the burning end of his cigarette is pressed against the meat of your shoulder blade.

→ You cry out, the pain lighting up your nerves, but Soap just laughs, grinding himself harder against your ass, crowding you against the wall of the alley, “Yeah, that’s it, Hen. Fuckin’ scream for me.”

John Price

→ “Off!”

→ The command rings through the room, and you jerk your head back as though you’d been stung, the captain’s slick cock slipping from between your lips. Saliva drips down your chin, soaking your shirt and collecting in a puddle between your thighs. Your chest heaves as you struggle to get enough air into your starving lungs and tears slide unchecked down your cheeks.

→ “I taught you better than that, didn’t I?” Upon receiving no better answer than you laboured breaths and pathetic sniffling, he surges forward, seizing a fistful of your hair and tugging hard enough to sting. “Didn’t I?”

→ “Y-Yes…” Your voice is little more than a ragged whisper; a scratchy testament to the abuse your throat has suffered. Unsatisfied with your answer, he pulls hard on your hair, dragging you forward. Your spine arches back in a desperate bid to ease the tension on your scalp.

→ “What was that?”

→ “Yes…S-Sir!”

→ He releases you, and you flop forward, your face mere inches from his cock, still slick and shining with your drool. His thick fingers find their way to your face, his thumb smearing through the mess around your mouth. His calloused fingertips glide across the slick flesh of your lips, tracing the puffy, cock-bruised flesh, leaving a stinging trail in their wake.

→ “What’s this for?” He asks.

→ “S-Sucking your cock, Sir?”

→ “Is it a question?”

→ “No, Sir.”

→ “Then say so. What is it for?”

→ “S-Sucking your cock, Sir.”

→ His fingers slide down your slick chin and seize about your throat. He doesn’t squeeze—not yet—just applies light pressure: a promise, and a threat, “And this?”

→ “I-I don’t…”

→ “I’m beginning to lose patience with you,” His voice is low, dangerous. “What. Is. It. For?”

→ “For…you to fuck, Sir.”

→ “Mmm, And when do you get to breathe?”

→ “When you say so, Sir.”

→ “That’s right. So,” He takes a deep drag of his cigar and leans forward in his seat to blow it into your face. The need to cough rattles about in your chest as the acris smoke stings your already teary eyes. Price smacks you hard on the back of the skull, his palm open, “Get that fucking gag reflex under control, or I’ll really give you something to cry about.”

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

→ “Oh fuck, Ghost!”

→ When the blunt head of his cock first nudged up against your entrance, you weren’t convinced it was going to fit. He was just so fucking big—bigger than anything you’d had the courage to take before. And as he presses forward, his strong arms caging you against the mattress, you are absolutely sure it won’t—not all of it anyway. Not all at once.

→ The stretch is intense. Your thighs jump and twitch where they lay, hitched high about his hips. Your hands cling tightly to his shoulders, nails sunk deep into his pale flesh, leaving little crescent shaped indentations. The deeper he pushes into you, the further you feel your control slipping—your breath comes fast and hard and your legs begin to shake in earnest.

→ All at once, he brushes up against something inside of you and you cry out. Your muscles lock up and you clench down around him so tightly that he gasps—a short, sharp sound that echoes in your ears. The steady push of his hips falters, and he grinds to an uneasy halt, “C’mon, Lovie, that’s only half of it. You can take more than that.”

→ But you couldn’t. He was going to break you—to split you in half. You were so full of him you could hardly find the room in your lungs for air. Still, he rocked his hips into you in short, shallow thrusts. He wanted to keep going—to keep pushing until he made room one way or another. Each shift of his hips, no matter how small, punched a heavy, gasping breath from your lungs.

→ God was that really only half?

→ “C-Can’t.”

→ “Yes, you can.”

→ You could feel yourself slipping away, your mind going fuzzy with the rocking of his hips, the burn as he stretched you out. The muscles in your stomach tighten with the promise of an impending orgasm, your vision going blurry with overstimulated tears.

→ “T-Too much,” You whine, “So fucking big…I can’t—”

→ Suddenly, his hands are at your throat. His fingers wrap around your neck, and he squeezes hard. The fight drains out of you so quickly you feel dizzy, the heat of his palms sapping the strength from your body.

→ “Tell me to stop then.” His dark eyes bore into yours from beneath his balaclava, his light eyelashes nearly white in the gloom. “Tell me to fucking stop, Lovie. Go on.”

→ His fingers tighten around your throat, as though he were trying to wring the words from you. You can feel those thick digits locking together at the back of your neck, his blunt nails digging into your soft skin. You couldn’t have spoken around the clench of those fingers if your life had depended on it. All that escapes from your lips is a thin whine, high and desperate.

→ “Got nothin’ to say?” Ghost laughs, a low, dangerous sound that rumbles in his chest and makes you shudder beneath him, “Then fucking take it,” And he slams his hips home, sheathing himself to the root in one smooth stroke.

Alejandro Vargas

→ Strong hands soothe the ache along the ridge of your spine, calloused fingers rubbing gentle circles into your flesh. His thumbs stroke over your ribs and down your sides, pressing against the bones of your hips just enough that you really feel it—a heavy pressure just shy of painful. His hands slide further down, grasping a handful of the meat of your thighs, rubbing feeling back into the spots where they press against the wooden lip of the desk.

→ Your chest lays flush against its varnished surface, the wood growing warm and slick beneath your heated flesh. Papers and files lay scattered across the floor, swept from the desk in the desperate frenzy to bend you over it. It’ll be a hell of a job for Alejandro to make sense of them tomorrow, scattered and jumbled as they are, but that isn’t your problem.

→ It was a quiet night, the Vaqueros still on base occupied with the last of their daily tasks or already tucked into their bunks in preparation for an early morning. There was no one around to hear you now, hidden away in Alejandro’s office as you were, but you whine and sob into your palms anyhow, muffling yourself out of habit more than necessity.

→ “Come now, Mi Corazón, there’s no need for tears.”

→ But there is. His cock is buried inside of you, splitting you open with his girth, but he isn’t moving—hasn’t moved an inch since seating himself within you nearly an hour ago. He kept you pinned, his hips pressed tight against your ass, holding you immobile with little more than the weight of his body.

→ “You can just take what you need,” He crooned, “C’mon, take it from me.”

→ You struggle desperately, trying to throw your weight against him, to move him an inch in any direction, but it’s no use. You just aren’t strong enough. A fresh wave of frustrated tears pricks at your eyes and burns your cheeks. You can do nothing but clench around him and sob into your fingers.

→ He coos softly—a gentle sound, so full of love and understanding. He presses a gentle kiss into your hair, “Awww, that’s okay, Mi Vida. I understand,” His lips brush against the back of your neck, soft and warm “It’s a lot to take in all at once, no?”

→ He shifts his hips ever so slightly, slowly grinding himself into you. You seize beneath him, pulsing around his cock. It’s the first stimulation with which he’d graced you since he’d opened you on his fingers, “We can wait here just like this until you’re ready.”

[mikeysw1fey]

you can’t swim???

request linked here :)

pairing: vada cavell x female reader

warnings: almost drowning, smoking, mentions of sex

Swimming is not my forte. Everyone knew this especially after the incident that occurred in the sixth grade.

I had been careless and wandered into the schools aquatics room with my friend Nick who stated he “wanted to watch hot bods of the swimmers” a little weird for a sixth grader to say but I didn’t judge. And then of course I slipped. Slipped and dropped like a stone to the bottom on the pool. I swear the amount of water I swallowed could’ve been enough to fill a tiny lake as I spluttered and flapped my arms around incoherently until one of the swimmers pushed me up and out the pool. Not my proudest moment. And the teasing has not yet ceased, considering I’m in my last year of high school now. Anyway after that day I vowed never to touch water again.

Well I tried anyway.

“Baby please. Please. Please.” Vada’s pout and puppy dog eyes may be my weakness but I was determined to stay strong.

“Ok fine.”

I failed miserably.

Vadas squeal is so high pitched I was scared my dog would come running as she leaps into my arms and peppers kisses to my face. “I promise this will be so fun and Mia will love you for saying yes.”

“What did I get myself into?” I sigh burying my face in Vadas neck who chuckles. I had just agreed to smoke weed at Mias house. It’s not that I haven’t smoked before, trust me I have but I’ve never smoked with Vada before.

“I promise you I’m like super chill when high.” Vada nods with a serious face. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” I retort gently poking her sides causing her so squirm in my arms.

“Oh you will see.” She wiggles her eyebrows before pushing me against the couch, straddling my waist. “But right now I think we have a little time before we have to go.” Her teeth bite her lower lip as her hands begin climbing up my stomach. I raise my eyebrows suggestively. “Then let’s use this time wisely.”

……..

“It’s puff puff pass Vada not puff puff puff puff pass.” Mia whines reaching for the joint as Vada takes another hit and grins cheekily. Lazy eyed, Vada hands Mia the joint and leans back against my knees as the three of us sit atop the lounge chairs just adjacent to the pool.

“My turn.” I hold out my hand and take another hit as Mia passes over the joint. Vada grins at me as I blow out the smoke. “I’m gonna go piss.” Mia drawls. She slowly moves off the lounge chair and heads towards the back doors. “And don’t fuck on my chairs ok?” Mia glances over her shoulder to squint her red eyes at the two of us.

Vada nods frantically watching as Mia walks into the house before jumping atop my lap and letting her hands roam my thighs. “Vada, you heard the woman. No sex on the chairs.” I laugh, looking at her with half lidded eyes. “No one’s gonna know. Actually that’s a lie, I’ll know and you’ll know. And maybe Mia if shes a fast pisser. You know I’m a fast pisser? I literally peed in under ten seconds yesterday-“ I slap a hand over her mouth and groan.

“Your a liar Vada. A liar.” I sigh with a shake of my head only flinching when Vadas tongue drags itself up my palm which still rests against her lips. “What? How?” Vada’s eyes widen as she places her hands on the sides of my face.

“I promise I’m like super chill when I’m high.” I mock Vadas earlier statement with exaggerated shrugs of my shoulders. Vada snorts and sits back on my thighs letting my face go.

“I am the chillest. Look at me.” She smiles like a child and I can’t help but find her adorable. “Ok baby.” I give in and wrap my arms around her waist to kiss her lips and potentially shut her up for a minute.

“What the fuck did I say.” A groan echoes across the pool area. Mia’s head falls back as she groans again and walks towards us. I pull away from Vada keeping my hands on her waist as Mia re takes her spot next to us.

“Didn’t fuck. So keep your mouth closed.” Vada glares at Mia who in turn glares at Vada. “I would hope not.” Mia remains serious before the two break out into laughter.

Silence encompasses us for a minute as the two regain their breath, Vadas eyes drifting towards the pool.

“Mia come here for a sec I think I see something over here.” Vada stands up and crouches at the side of the pool, pretending to notice something strange.

Mia follows her and crouches down next to Vada with a frown. “I see nothing.” She scoffs glancing at Vada who smirks. I roll my eyes instantly knowing what’s going to happen as Vadas hand comes to ghost over Mias back.

“Why don’t you take a closer look?” Mia screams as Vada shoves her forwards into the depths of the pool. “I’m gonna fucking kill you Vada Cavell.” Mia’s head breaks the surface of the water, her mascara running down her cheeks as she glares daggers at the smaller girl who shrieks and runs to my side, attempting to hide behind me.

“Im too lazy to chase you but Ima get you when you least expect it Vada.” Mia calls from the pool as she begins to float on her back, eyes closed.

“Your an asshole.” I chuckle looking over my shoulder at my girlfriend who has another smirk on her face. “Baby no.” I instantly stand up and walk away from the girl who stalks towards me hands outstretched.

“I just want a hug.” Vada pouts, the smirk gone but the dangerous look in her eyes clear as day. “No chance Cavell.” I shake my head and look away from Vada for a second to make sure I was not going to fall over.

Big mistake.

Vada makes her move and rushes at me, hands outstretched and making contact with my body causing me to stumble backwards and straight into the water behind me.

“Va-“ My screech is cut off as the cool liquid surrounds me, pulling me under the water. Fear courses through my veins as memories of my last encounter with water flash past my eyes.

My arms thrash around frantically which doesn’t seem to do much as I can’t seem to push my head above the water.

I’m gonna die.

I can’t breathe.

My brain falls into overdrive as I sink even deeper into the water and my lungs fill up with the clear liquid.

As I struggle a pair of arms wrap around my waist and pull me to the surface before tugging me out the pool and onto the concrete beside it.

“Baby? Can you hear me? I’m so sorry.” I splutter for a minute before glancing over to see a dripping wet Vada and a wide eyed Mia standing over me.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you in, I’m so so sorry. Please don’t break up with me.” Vada has tears pouring down her cheeks as she gently grabs my hand.

I heave for a second more before my breathing slowly returns to normal. My fingers grip Vadas hard. “It’s not your fault. I never told you, although to be fair I thought everyone had heard about my incident with Nick years ago.” I manage to chuckle and Vada let’s out a breathy laugh.

“Right, that was you.” Mia snorts from the other side of me causing me to glare playfully at her. “I’m gonna grab towels,” She smiles patting my head gently as she gets up leaving Vada and I alone.

“I’m so so sorry.” Vada wipes her face roughly as she avoids my gaze. I frown and reach for her face. “I forgive you baby. I’m ok.” I whisper gently stroking her wet cheek.

Vada finally looks up at me and manages a small smile. “You scared me.” She whispers leaning her head into my palm. “I thought I killed my girlfriend.”

I chuckle softly and kiss her head. “Maybe I’m in need of some mouth to mouth?” I wiggle my eyebrows and Vada lets out a snort before crawling in between my legs and pressing her lips to mine.

Her hands worm their way up my chest and cup my face as mine thread through her dripping hair. Her lips pull into a smile against my mouth as I tug gently.

Both of us remain enamoured with one another oblivious to the sound of the sliding door open.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Again?”

[tiny-pretty-sana]

i will take good care of you | mina x chaeyoung

pairing: mina x chaeyoung genre: fluff warning/tags: au, stablished relationship, domestic girlfriends w/c: 3.1 k a/n: i’m back with more fluff but i promise you i’m trying new things. sorry in advance for the mistakes you might find because english is not my first language but especially because it’s 7 am and i haven’t slept ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১. i’m still surprised by the response the first thing i’ve ever posted got, so i’ll be happy if this one receives half as much love as that one did. feel free to leave any comments, feedback, suggestions or requests 🤍

After Chaeyoung hadn't stopped sneezing and blowing her nose since she arrived soaking wet from the rain the previous afternoon, they decided that canceling their Sunday date would be the best option. Their visit to the botanical park has now been replaced by a day at home watching movies. The exam period is coming, so it was reasonable to make Chaeyoung stay at home so she doesn’t get worse. It takes them some time to decide, as the younger one felt guilty because they had already bought tickets, but Mina manages to convince her girlfriend to stay on the couch with a blanket, tea and a box of tissues beside her while she goes out to buy medicine, her favorite snacks and some ingredients to make miso soup.

"I'll take good care of you" is the last thing she says before kissing Chaeyoung’s lips and leaving the apartment.

She would be lying if she said she isn’t surprised to see that when she's back in their apartment, her girlfriend is still in the same place where she left her half an hour ago, only now she has a book in her hand instead of the mug of tea that now sits empty on the living room table. As Chaeyoung focuses on her book, she places everything she got in the kitchen and grabs her Nintendo to continue building and decorating her Animal Crossing island on the other side of the couch. Moments like this are the favorites for both of them, they just need each other's company as they spend time enjoying their hobbies in a comfortable silence.

They are both introverts who enjoy spending time at home playing video games, reading, drawing,writing, assembling Lego sets or watching movies. It's something they've always enjoyed separately, and since Chaeyoung accepted Mina's proposal to move into her apartment, it's become something they do together. Now, across the room, across the couch or using the other Nintendo Switch controller, they have someone with whom they share playful glances, smiles, exchange thoughts, talk about their days at work or college, about lives or share their problems. In moments like these, they just need to feel each other's presence. For them to be in silence doing their own thing while intertwining their legs under the blanket doesn't feel much different from a date outside in a nice place. 

It's these things that make Mina wonder if they'll always feel this way or if it's a passing thing that will end when she gets used to living with Chae. Meanwhile, on the other side of the couch, Chaeyoung underlines the sentences in the book that remind her of Mina and thinks that she stay in this moment all her life without ever getting tired of seeing Mina in front of her focus on her videogames with the tip of her tongue sticking out, concentrating on the game, just like she does when she cooks a new recipe or when she prepares some presentation for work.

An hour later, Chae puts the book away, takes off her glasses and holds the bridge of her nose with two fingers "I can't focus, I have a headache" she complains, making Mina sit up immediately "Let me get you a glass of water so you can take a painkiller". Chaeyoung gestures for her to get back to sit with her. "Don't worry, I think I just need to get some sleep" she says as her girlfriend looks at her with a doubtful face "I promise I'll take it if my headache doesn't go away" she replies, earning an indulgent smile from Mina.

As soon as her girlfriend falls asleep on the couch she goes to the kitchen to make some miso soup, lunch for both of them and looks up movie recommendations on her phone while waiting for the water to start boiling. And of course, tea is a must. 

It seems that sleep was good for Chae because when she wakes up, she seems to be in a better mood and even a bit more talkative, so they spend lunch talking about what movie they should watch. When they’re done, Mina takes care of clearing the table and cleaning the dishes despite Chaeyoung's refusal when her girlfriend tells her to brush her teeth and go back to the couch.

"Mina-chan!" she whines. "It's just a cold, don't treat me like I'm dying. Let me help you."

"Your exams are coming up and you and I both know that if you get sick now, you'll only be more anxious because you won't be able to do as much as you'd like. At least one of us has to be responsible" Mina says, giving her a scolding look, and Chaeyoung has no choice but to nod her head and follow her directions.

Mina doesn't have to explain herself for her girlfriend to get the message since the cold is due more to Chaeyoung being careless than to the sudden rain of the previous day. In the morning, when the gray clouds covered the Seoul sky and didn't let even a ray of sunshine show, they both commented that good rains were on the way and they hoped that at least it wouldn't be so heavy as to spoil their Sunday date. Exactly that date in which both should now be holding hands, smelling the fragrance of the flowers and taking a thousand photos and maybe, in the case of the art student, doing some sketches or drawings. And despite this, and despite Mina's recommendations, Chaeyoung decided to go out without an umbrella, arguing that her new raincoat would be more than enough and that, unlike the umbrella, it would not ruin her outfit. But in case that hadn’t been enough, for when she arrived completely wet down to her socks and even clothes under her raincoat when Mina reprimanded her for not having listened to her, the younger girl explained that in fact it wasn’t because she wasn’t carrying an umbrella but because she, Dahyun and Tzuyu decided to run and dance in the rain when they left the library after an intense studying session. 

Knowing that her girlfriend's two best friends were involved, she wasn’t surprised by what happened. Separately, Tzuyu and Chaeyoung are quite quiet, introverted and they rather go unnoticed, but if they get together with Dahyun nothing good can happen. Apparently in one of their classes this week, a teacher lectured them about youth, art and living life, which inspired them enough for them to spend at least an hour in the rain several days later in the middle of a storm.

Considering what happened, she wasn't going to take Mina's point away, but that's not going to stop her from complaining. "Oh come on, it's a silly cold" she snorts and before she can continue speaking, she sneezes so hard that her glasses fall off. "Okay, but don't take long" she relents. 

When the dishes are clean, dry and in place, Mina returns to her side of the couch and gets ready to watch the movie, but she doesn't put it on, so she looks away from the TV and when she turns her head, she meets the huge expressive eyes of her girlfriend, who looks at her like a like a kicked puppy. She laughs softly and shifts her posture to lie down behind her and be the big spoon. It’s then when her girlfriend considers pressing the play button.

Only ten minutes pass until Chaeyoung says "The movie was recommended by Nayeon-unnie, it's probably good. I didn't know she studied film in college" she says, to which Mina simply hums as she concentrates on what the characters are saying and what the subtitles say, as there are parts in Japanese that she doesn't want her girlfriend to miss. Occasionally, Mina whispers in her ear some of the lines or words that she feels are oversimplified in the subtitles, but it's still Chae who keeps talking the whole time. She describes what happened in the scene as if they weren't watching the same thing, comments on how neat the costumes are, talks about how beautiful she thinks the composition is, suddenly switches to the Japanese occupation in which the story is set, asks about something she doesn't have time to read, laughs when she realizes that just like the protagonists, one of them is Korean and the other one is Japanese, she then clarifies that in this case it is the Korean who has to learn Japanese... and Mina starts to be slightly annoyed. 

She’s a person who enjoys silence and is easily overwhelmed by too much noise or loud voices, like when they get together with their other seven friends and there are a lot of conversations going on at the same time. She knows it's something she needs to keep working on, but if anything, a red line for her is people talking while watching series or movies. Just like her beloved girlfriend is doing right now, who doesn't seem to pick up on the little interest her rambling receives, being answered only with monosyllables, short sentences and humming. They have been watching the movie for a while now and she’s squirming in her seat because of the discomfort and her urge to say or do something about it. her urge to get it over with is interrupted when she remembers that the girl in her arms is sick and what she needs right now is more care, the least she can do is listen to her thoughts and concerns. Even if she has decided to share them right while they are watching a movie in each other's arms. 

Just when the scene in which the protagonists share a moment of intimacy comes and takes Mina's breath away, Chaeyoung speaks and it takes all of Mina’s will to restrain herself and take a deep breath until she hears what her girlfriend has to say now. "Mina-chan, don't move away; it's cold."

And that's when Mina puts all the pieces together and moves her hand to her girlfriend's forehead. As expected, it's quite warm compared to hers and then she leans down to place her lips on her girlfriend's forehead, who without quite knowing what Mina's intentions are, smiles in anticipation of a kiss on her forehead.  "Baby, you have a fever" she says softly. "Pause the movie. I'll get the thermometer and some medicine." That's certainly not what Chae, who now had her eyes closed ready to receive the next kiss on her lips, expected to hear. Mina can't help but laugh at the sight before her, but she quickly gets up to get everything she needs from the kitchen and bathroom. After a year of dating her, she should know better. 

Luckily, there haven't been many times when one has had to take care of the other while they were sick, but enough times that Mina knows that Chaeyoung starts talking non-stop when her fever starts to rise. It's something that will always make her giggle, it's an odd trait that she finds adorable. "Was I talking that much?" Chae aks to her girlfriend, realizing what's going on, to which Mina nods and chuckles. "I was about to lose it" admits the older one, making her girlfriend blush. "Sorry, I didn't realize" she apologizes and Mina shakes her head as she gets up to grab the thermometer and a couple of other things.

"Here" she says as she returns with the thermometer the box of pills, a sachet of vitamins and a glass of water. "You should uncover for a while, Chaeyoungnie" she says, using a soft voice as she tries to take the blanket she is wrapped in, but her girlfriend grabs it and looks at her with a pout "But I'm so cold". Mina laughs softly "Yesterday you didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, come on, let’s get the thermometer on you". 

Mina wasn't mistaken, the thermometer after five minutes reads 39°C, and the first thing she does is pull the blanket aside this time for real and go get a towel. After taking the medicine, they play the movie back on and now that Chae is starting to feel worse, it’s no longer being interrupted by her ramblings, but by all the times Mina has to get up from the couch to re-wet the towel, until she checks her temperature again and it has dropped a few tenths of a degree. Before the movie is over, Chaeyoung falls asleep. She has replaced the blankets with her girlfriend and now is curled up resting her head in the crook of her neck, she warms her hands under the older one's t-shirt and has one of her legs between hers. Mina, now unable to move and not knowing where the remote is, ends up watching the movie alone until the last word of the credits because she finds it impossible to wake her girlfriend when she is sleeping peacefully in her arms.

Fifteen minutes have passed — maybe thirty or an hour — at this point she doesn't even know and she decides it's time to go to bed. She carefully separates her body from her girlfriend's and whispers sweet nothings, trying to wake her up. "Chaeyoungnie, let's go to bed" she whispers for the tenth time and this time she finally gets a "Hmm?" but nothing else, so she decides to take charge of the situation and gets up to pick up her girlfriend until she sees the restrained smile on her face that ends up giving her away. "You're awake! Come on, let's go to bed." Chaeyoung shakes her head and uses her sick privilege, and those eyes with which she gets anything from Mina, and asks her to carry her to their bed.

It doesn't take long for them to fall asleep, but at some ungodly hour of the night, the younger one doesn't stop moving and shivering, thus waking up the older one. Still asleep, with her eyes half open and the dim light coming through the window, she gropes her girlfriend's forehead to check her temperature and when she notices the hairs of her bangs soaked in sweat, she sits up right away and looks again for the thermometer and the towel. This time it reaches 40°C so she immediately uncovers her and places the towel on her forehead, also cooling her face and neck down making her shiver and whimper. "Mina-chan?" she asks with her eyes closed as she doesn’t have enough energy to open them. "I'm here. Your fever is up again, but don't worry. Try to sleep; I'll take care of you" she reassures her and when she sees her weakly nod her head, she caresses her face gently and runs her fingers through Chaeyoung's sweaty hair.

That's how she spent the rest of the night, cuddling her girlfriend, wetting the towel with cold water from time to time and checking the temperature, which didn’t drop below 38ºC all night long. Between one thing and another, she has had time to drink two coffees and has taken the laptop to get ahead of work, knowing that it is best to spend the day with her in case she has to take her to the doctor. When dawn breaks, Mina writes an email to her company informing them she won’t be able to attend work today, she presses enter and listens to the beep of the thermometer, checking that the temperature has finally dropped. She places the laptop on her bedside table, takes off her glasses, deactivates the alarm on her phone and finally lets herself fall asleep.

The sun finishes rising, illuminating the entire room, this time it is Chaeyoung who wakes up. Beside her, she finds her girlfriend with noticeable bags under her eyes, her glasses and laptop beside her just like when she suffers from insomnia. This time, she’s also holding the towel with which she has been using on her forehead all night long. Although the image melts Chaeyoung's heart, she can't help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought that her girlfriend has had to spend the night awake taking care of her because of her poor choices. Soon, the guilt is replaced by the warmth she feels in her chest as she looks at her girlfriend, thinking how grateful and loved she is. After a year together, she still finds it hard to believe that a person like Mina is in love. And not only in love but willing to love her even more with the hairs of her bangs sticking to her forehead from the cold sweat of fever, or like that time when, after finishing her sculpture project, she suffered a contracture and had to help her bathe for five days, or when she drank so much with her unnies that she spent half the night vomiting with her head stuck in the toilet while Mina held her hair and just like today, she then prepared miso soup for her on each of those occasions. According to her, it works to cure everything.

With a smile on her lips, she carefully strokes Mina's hair and covers her with the blanket as she feels her cold skin making her wake up. "Take the medicine. I'll make you some breakfast in a little while, give me five minutes" she hears her say in her newly awake voice. And, unlike the day before, Chae accepts the offer as she feels she doesn't have enough strength to stand for more than five minutes.

True to her word, in less than fifteen minutes, Mina enters the room with a bowl of miso soup. "Thank you, Mina-chan" she says as she picks it up and places it on the nightstand to cool down a bit. "No problem. I made it yesterday, I just warmed it up" she shrugs as the other shakes her head. "It's not about the soup, it's about everything. Thank you for taking care of me and loving me so well. I love you" she clarifies, earning a smile from the girl in front of her. One of those gummy smiles that makes her eyes practically disappear. She says nothing, simply caresses her cheek and reaches up, seeking a kiss from her girlfriend, who, instead of joining her lips with her whispers "You're going to get sick" by way of warning, a warning they are both willing to ignore. "That's not going to stop me. I can't think of a better plan than spending anothers day at home with you instead of going to work. Besides, what was that thing your teacher said for you to end up in the rain... Live, feel, eat, love, laugh, travel and kiss without thinking about tomorrow?" She teases her girlfriend again about the rain incident and Chaeyoung nods her head before kissing Mina. "I guess I'll have to take good care of you" she whispers against her lips.

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

Of Cold Weather and Holiday Shopping

jason todd x reader

(A/N): This is a fic for @citrinesparkles as a part of a batfam holiday fic exchange we did with @glorified-red,@quillsareswords , and @birdy-bat-writes!

Citi! Happy Holidays!! It’s me (again).

Not sure if you’re tired of my writing yet, but I had the best time writing this fic. Established relationship is so fun to write, and I did much more worldbuilding than I had any right to but I hope you love it!

wc: ~1200

warnings: reference to chronic pain (jason) and one kind-of curse word; so fluffy it will rot your teeth

~~

“Jay, they don’t have the brand of cinnamon we usually buy, will this one work?” 

Jason turns around from where he was reading through your shopping list. You both have come to the conclusion that putting a magnetic notepad on the fridge to spontaneously add things you need when you think of them works best. Two years into this method, you change the notepad by season. Jason usually remembers to grab it or take a photo as you walk out the door. The paper he’s holding today has evergreen trees dusted with snow around the border of it.  

You hold the spice out to him as he reaches for it, watching amused as he squints at the label for a couple seconds before he hands it back. 

“Yeah, should work.” 

“Phew,” you tease, tossing it in the cart, “it’s passed the Todd test.” 

Jason sticks his tongue out before grabbing a jar of cloves—this time of your usual brand. 

“I’ll have you you that if it’s the wrong kind, Alfred will know, and he’s finally letting me make the molasses cookies so-” 

“It has to be perfect. I know, hun, I was just teasing.” You take Jason’s hand in yours and pull it up to your cheek. “He let you do it because he trusts you. He’s going to love them.” You pause, eyes roaming his face. “And I’ve got you, so we’ve got this.” 

“Yeah we do.” 

Jason squeezes your hand then lets go to return to the cart. 

“We should grab another dozen eggs.” 

“I’ll get the orange juice and meet you there?” you ask, motioning towards the other end of the refrigerated section. Produce and snacks are already sitting in the cart: the weekly items on your shopping list. Jason nods. 

“If you grab another bag of tiny marshmallows, we can meet at the register.” 

“Ooh I forgot about those, yeah. Meet you there.” 

Jason’s standing right outside the self checkout when you get there, and you hold up a bag of doritos as you walk towards him. 

“I got distracted.” 

“I see that,” Jason responds, an amused smile on his face as you add the three things you’re holding to the cart. “You remembered the juice though, so it’s a step up from last time.” 

You spin around to face him, dramatic outrage on your face. “Says the guy who got so distracted by nice dark chocolate last time that we nearly forgot bread.”

Jason shrugs. “Peppermint dark chocolate, doritos. Not the same thing.” 

“Pfft,” you say as the two of you move to the self checkout machine, “says you.” 

After check out, you drop your bags off in your car and walk across the other parking lot. It’s much easier to park at the supermarket than fight crazy Gothamites holiday shopping in the big mall parking lot. 

You’ve shared an apartment in central Gotham for the past few years now, but neither of you have conceded to gloves during the winter months. Instead, you have one set of hands linked together, tucked in Jason’s pocket. You love his jacket; it’s warm and heavy and the pockets are lined. And it was a gift to him from Bruce the first Christmas you spent with Jason’s entire family. 

When you get inside, Jason pauses, his other hand coming to your shoulder as he flexes his right knee. You unlink the hand in his pocket and put your hand over his; to no surprise, it’s cold. 

“You alright, love?” Jason nods, straightening his knee out again with a heavy breath. 

“I should’ve taken your advice and worn the brace because damn I can feel it in the cold.” Jason takes his hand off your shoulder and twists it to hold yours again instead. 

“Did you want to stop for another one? There’s a sports store in here somewhere, they’d have one.” 

“Nah,” Jason says, tugging at your arm as he walks forward, “you’re all the support I need.” You snort out a laugh. 

“I forget sometimes how holiday shopping turns you into a sap. You’re cheesy, love, but you know I’m going to bug you about this for the rest of winter right?”

“Yeah I know.” There’s only warm fondness in his tone and Jason turns to give you a quick kiss. It’s just a couple seconds, but you can feel the still clinging winter chill defrosting nonetheless. 

There’s not much to buy at the mall—that’s your justification for going to the grocery store first. Well, that and the 27 degree temperature outside. You’re not too worried about the perishables, but you stop into Target to pick up something you’d ordered to the store (for Jason, so you shove it in your coat pocket as soon as it’s in your grasp) and head to an art store. 

The Wayne family Secret Santa is a holiday tradition, and you’d been a part of it for two years so far; this year is the third. Alfred is always good to make sure no one gets themselves or their partners. You all do generally get a gift for everyone every year, but because there are so many of them, those are small. The Secret Santa gifts are larger and everyone shares a wishlist to be consulted for that purpose. Only Bruce and Alfred don’t participate, though Bruce doesn’t mostly because he likes to buy gifts for his kids (and their partners, you found out) and Alfred because he runs it and also everyone gets him gifts. You love Alfred. You and Jason found a spice rack for him this year you’re hoping he’ll love. 

This year, your gift receiver is Damian, so you stop into the art store to pick up the package you’d ordered for him there. Jason, who is gifting to Steph this year, has his gift already. It’s in the pile of “to be wrapped” things sitting in your living room. 

You make a stop in a Bath and Bodyworks type store to grab a couple small things for Cass and Steph (joint spa day gift for two of them—your idea) and Barnes & Noble to grab a book for Duke before heading back out into the cold. You slide into the driver’s seat before Jason can and hold your hand out for the keys, eyebrows raised in a challenge. Jason, wisely, sits in the passenger seat, bags on his lap. 

You pull into the parking garage that caters to your apartment and grab the grocery bags from the trunk. Jason’s next to you when you close it, and he’s holding his hand out, the five bags from the mall in his other one. You laugh and grab his hand. 

“Hey, look,” he says, nudging you. You look up from where you were locking the car. The streetlights are wrapped in multi-colored lights, lit up in the 5 o'clock darkness. You lean your head so it hits against Jason. 

“Hey.” He turns to look at you. “I love you.” A smile spreads across Jason's face. 

“I love you too, babe.” 

You pull him away from the cold outside, heading towards your apartment. He’ll take tonight off patrol, you’d both decided a couple days ago. Tonight, it’s baking cookies and music in the background. 

And you’re finally wrapping that pile of presents in the living room. 

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 27

First of all: look at this beautiful banner @i-own-loki made for my fic! It's amazing, I love it and she is my saviour since I cannot figure out Canva! I'm going to go back and update all the previous posts so this will now be the official fic banner.

Also, chapter 27! I've been looking forward to this one for a while and I hope you enjoy!

Series Master List

Chapter 28 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10k

Half the morning passes before you stir, only moving because Frankie slips away to the bathroom. When he comes back you stretch, yawning widely as he wraps around you, his hand running down your side. 

“I woke up wondering if I’d dreamt that Will was back,” he mumbles, “I can’t believe you found him, couldn’t fucking believe my eyes last night.” 

“Imagine my face when I saw him, they put a hood over my head and Will pulled it off, he’d recognized my voice and I was just dumbstruck, started crying straight away.” 

“You’re in good company, I’ve never seen Benny that emotional before, except,” he hesitates “except with Hannah, at the end.” 

“That was hard, telling Will about Hannah,” you sigh,” I wonder if Benny told him the whole story, all the details, or if maybe he wants to spare him that? I’m not sure I’d wanna know, it can’t be changed.” 

“I’d wanna know,” Frankie says, shifting in bed so that he can look at you, “It would fuck me up, but I’d wanna know anyway.” 

You shudder, shaking the thoughts off you, “I don’t wanna think about it, I’m happy Will is back, I wanna leave it at that.” You go to push yourself off the bed but Frankie grabs hold of you, his hand behind your neck, and pulls you down to his lips in a hard kiss. There’s an edge of desperation in the way he grips your neck and holds you close to his mouth while his tongue licks into you, all teeth and urgency.  

“Yesterday, before you came back,” he says, pulling back a little so that he can look at you, his eyes almost black, “I imagined what I’d do to them if they got even close to doing what Myers did to Hannah. I’d wanna know every detail, because I would do a hundred times worse to them.” His tone is rigid, harsher than you’ve heard from him before, and the intensity behind his words makes you frightened, not for you, but for him. 

“Don’t go down that route, Frankie, please,” you say, taking hold of his hand, “don’t even think about it, it’s not a good head space to be in.” 

“I can’t help it, the thought of that happening to you…” he trails off, you feel his fingers flexing around the back of your neck, “I just wanna fucking make them-” 

“Stop, Frankie,” you cut him off, “I don’t want you thinking about it, and if anything was to happen to me, I don’t want you doing anything,” you take his hand from behind your neck, putting the other one on his cheek. “If I go missing, come find me, please, tear the world apart if you have to, I’ll do the same for you. But don’t lose yourself to revenge, I don’t want that for you.” Frankie’s eyes soften at your words as you run your thumb over his cheek, “You’ll break my heart if you let hatred take over, I want you to be my sweet Frankie, even if I’m not here.” 

“Please don’t talk about not being here,” he says, his voice thick, “that thought fucking kills me, that’s what scares me more than anything.” 

“Being without you scares me the most too, Frankie, but promise you won’t wreck yourself trying to get revenge if something happens to me.” 

He takes in your worried face, your eyes searching his for assurance. The very thought of someone hurting you, or worse, makes his heart stutter, his first instinct is to think of all the ways he can bring retribution. But your pleading eyes, your hand on his check as you beg him to promise you a different path, makes him squash it down, he can’t deny you anything, even this. 

“I promise, cariño, I promise I won’t lose myself.” His kiss is gentle this time, his arms wrapping around you, as you cup his face. You let yourself stay wrapped up by him for a few, quiet minutes, breathing in his warm scent, his soft lips and hands on your skin. 

“We should go downstairs and see the others,” he mumbles, still close to your lips, “see what Will has to say about the smugglers.” 

You nod and pull away a little from him, taking his hand and tugging him off the bed. It’s a couple of quick showers for the both of you and then you go downstairs. Will and Benny are on the couch as you walk in, Pope making coffee in the kitchen. 

“Morning, sleepy heads!” Benny greets you, he’s got a wide grin, looking happy and relaxed next to his brother. 

“Morning,” you say as Will pushes off the couch and comes over for a hug. 

“Did you sleep ok?” he asks, tilting your head up to check on the cut his men left on your cheek. 

“Out like a light,” you say, and it was true, you hadn’t even had a nightmare. “You ok?” you ask in a lower voice and he catches your meaning, giving you a nod and a small crooked smile. 

“I’m good, it’s surreal to suddenly have breakfast with you guys like nothing changed, and about Hannah…” he shakes his head a little, “I always hoped, a little at least, that she was still ok. But to know that she was alive until just a few months ago…that’s gonna take some time to process.” He shrugs and you nod, leaving it at that for now. 

Will, Benny and Pope have obviously been talking before Frankie and you arrived and they fill you in on the details while you have breakfast. 

“So, the thing with Conway yesterday,” Will says, “had been brewing for a while. The guy’s an asshole, he was only part of the crew because he had good connections when we first started out. He’s been pushing for us to start smuggling and trading drugs, opiates mainly, but I’ve said no to that from the beginning, not happening.” 

“We heard that from Jodie Graham, she said you guys wouldn’t sell any to her,” you say, refilling your coffee mug.

“Jodie’s good to trade with but that was always our disagreement, but she was fine with it, didn’t push it.” 

“So what’s the plan for your crew now?” Frankie’s looking over at Will, “We talked about approaching you guys and working together before but now,” he glances over at you, “I’m not gonna trust them, they attacked us and we’ve taken out a lot of your guys, there’s gonna be bad blood.” 

“Yeah, the idea of you joining my crew died when you killed Conway’s brother in the warehouse,” Will says, shaking his head. “They had orders to scare you, ‘bit of intimidation, not kill you, but that obviously backfired.” 

“Ok, so collaboration is out of the question,” Benny says, “then what the fuck do we do? Take them out?” 

Will sighs and leans back against the counter, uncrossing his arms to rub one hand over his face. “I don’t think that’s gonna work, I mean, yeah we can take them out, we can handle them, no problem. But first off, I don’t wanna, not all of them are bad like Conway, and I’ve been working with some of them for years, I don’t wanna turn around and kill them, or give them a reason to kill me. But,” he shifts on his feet, crossing his arms again, “the guys who you’ve killed, they had family, and friends, in this QZ. And I’m not saying you did the wrong thing when you killed them, they attacked you,” Will’s holding up his hands as both Benny and Pope start to object. “But, as a result, the guys in the crew are out for your blood, and as they start spreading the word about who killed their friends and family, we’re toast, we can’t stay in this QZ.” 

You breath out a low fuck….and sink your head into your hands. You’ve just settled in New York, you just fucking got here, and now you’re all stuck with either leaving, or watching you back at every step.

“Great, back into no man’s land,” Pope growls.

“We should’ve just come to you straight away, Will,” you say, looking over at the other three guys, “We were being fucking stupid.” 

“I’ve been keeping a low profile, and my guys wouldn’t have trusted you, you’re new in the QZ, unknown, too risky. And,” Will shrugs, “what’s done is done, and the Conway situation would’ve blown up anyway.” 

“So we need to leave again,” Frankie says, seemingly shaking himself out of inactivity, “when, how and where to? We need to figure out where the fuck we’re going this time.” 

“I think I can answer the ‘how’,” Will says, “I talked to Jodie in private the last time I saw her. She was willing to let me sail with them up to Dartmouth, outside Providence. They trade up there. Their ship is big enough for the five of us, and them, so as long as we pay our way, they’ll take us.” 

“That gets us a long way away from New York,” Pope says, “sounds like a good idea. And getting to Orchard Beach is no problem, we’ll just have to be extra cautious and avoid your guys, Will.” 

“And then what?” you ask. “Is there a QZ in Providence?” 

“Yeah, there is,” Will nodded, “Jodie says it’s small but decent, might be good to check out, if not, the Boston QZ isn’t much further north and that’s a big one.” 

You look over at Frankie who nods at you, “I’m in, if we have to leave, that sounds like a solid idea.”

“I’m in too, and sailing sounds like a really nice way to travel,” you look back at Will, nodding your agreement. 

“Alright, if everyone’s in, I’ll get in touch with Jodie, set it up. In the meantime, we need to lay low,” Will says and everyone agrees. 

The next few days are spent collecting supplies and going over the resources you have while trying to stay out of sight. Frankie and Pope do a short trip outside the wall to clear a cache they’ve got stashed. You pace the apartment while they’re gone, glancing out through the window every time you hear a noise. When they get back you breathe a long sigh of relief, pulling Frankie in for a long hug. He tangles his fingers in your hair as he holds you close, letting his solid body under your arms sooth you. 

You choose to leave just after the curfew comes into effect at six pm, jogging through the empty QZ until you get to a tunnel you rarely use because it’s broken up and slow going. Slipping into it, the five of you stop just inside the entrance, waiting for anyone who might’ve followed you. After fifteen minutes you continue on, nothing moves behind you. You get through to the other end without any issues and quickly make your way through the Bronx towards Orchard Beach. Nothing stirs in the night and it’s almost worse, you’re expecting something to happen, something to go wrong, but you arrive at the beach with plenty of time to spare.

You camp out on the side of the beach, waiting for Jodie and Damon to show up. You’re nervous while you wait, pacing back and forth until Frankie stops you by pulling you to the side and wrapping his arms around you. He doesn’t have to say anything, you just bury your face against his soft flannel shirt, and let him rub his hands up and down your back. 

By the time the ship sails into the bay, a thin new moon has risen over Long Island and there’s a steady breeze. Jodie comes in with the small dinghy and gets you all out to the ship, it takes two trips to get you all and your bags onto the sailing vessel. Once you’ve climbed onboard and look back towards the shore, you feel your shoulders relax, leaving New York QZ and the exposed world outside the walls behind. Damon and Jodie get the sails up, helped by Pope, the only one of you with any kind of sailing experience, and the ship starts moving north. Damon sets a course that takes the ship out through the Long Island Sound and as it widens the shorelines on both sides disappear from view. 

“I’ll take the first watch,” he says, “Jodie will take the second one so you’re all welcome to sleep in the bunks below deck, might be a bit cramped though but there’s plenty of room to sleep on deck.” 

Benny, Will and Pope disappear beneath deck and you poke your head down too. There’s two bunk beds set up on either side of the narrow hull. At the aft of the ship there’s a small bedroom where Jodie and Damon sleep. 

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping up on deck, what about you?” you ask Frankie, eyeing the one single bunk bed available. 

“Sounds like a very nice idea,” he smiles, “Will snores.” 

“I do not,” Will grumbles in reply from the top bunk he’s climbed into, already inside his sleeping bag. 

Frankie chuckles and pulls you back up top. There’s plenty of room on deck and you roll out your sleeping mats, cushioning them with a few thick pillows Damon offers you, and zipping your sleeping bag together. The night air is cool but fresh and salty as Frankie pulls you close, your head on his arm as you both look up at the sky. The stars are impossibly bright out here on the water and in a low voice Frankie points out the different constellations, showing you the north star, a bright light in the sky. 

“It’s less than one degree away from the north pole, so if you see it, you always know where north is.”

“Did you ever use it to navigate with?” you ask, tilting your head to get a better look at it. 

“Several times, it’s a quick reference when you’re moving at night.” 

“You’re such a boy scout, Francisco,” you tease him, “Big, scary, Delta Force boy scout.” You giggle as he growls into your ear, his fingers finding the soft skin at your waist and tickling you.

“If we were in a bed I’d show you how I got my knot tying merit badge,” he chuckles as you squirm under his fingers. 

“Pretty sure we’ve already done that,” you smile as his hands return to their soft caresses over your skin. 

“Pretty sure you really enjoyed it too,” Frankie smirks, the memory of several occasions when he’d used his one tie to restrain your hands making you squeeze your legs together. Something to remember for when you’re next in a safe location and on your own. Right now you’re getting sleepy and you turn, your back pressed up against his chest.

“Sleep well, hermosa, te amo.” Frankie nudges his nose against your neck as he gives you a soft kiss. 

“I love you too, my sweet Frankie,” you mumble, his arm a warm weight over your body. 

Damon and Jodie make sure the ship sails safely through the night and when the early morning sun wakes you, the ship has already passed New Haven. It’s another full day of sailing before you reach Dartmouth according to Damon and you’ve already agreed to spend a second night on the ship so that you can disembark the next morning in daylight. A whole day on a sailing ship turns into what feels like a well deserved holiday and you’re starting to think Jodie and Damon really have the best idea about how to live in the apocalypse. 

“Do you ever see other ships out here?” You ask as Damon brings out the fishing rods after breakfast.

“Not much anymore,” he says, “in the beginning there were a lot of boats around, both sailing boats and motor ones, nowadays we only see sailing ships but even they are rare. Might get one passing on the horizon.”

“Do you ever approach them, see if anyone is alive?” you ask as he hands you one of the rods and a tub of homemade bait. 

“Sometimes, depends on how badly we need supplies or gear. We follow them for a bit, see if anything stirs, most times the ships are empty or have infected on them. In the past year we’ve only come across two other ships with people on them. Trade with one of them, the other one wanted nothing to do with us.” 

You cast out, following Damon’s instructions, the other guys are also casting out around the ship, Frankie’s next to you, he’s been listening to Damon speaking. 

“Do you ever go ashore?” he asks, “For supplies?” 

“No need any more, we trade for what we need most times, scavenge ships for the rest.” 

“And eat a lot of fish,” Jodie sighs from the steering wheel, “I used to love eating fresh fish, now I’d be happy if I never ate fish again in my life.” 

“I’ll see if I can catch a burger for you, Jodie,” Will jokes from the stern and everyone laughs, it’s a nice relaxed, holiday feeling on deck. Frankie insists on you wearing his cap as he sees you squinting at the sun, it smells like him and you give him a grateful kiss on the cheek. The sun has already given him a deeper tan and more freckles and he looks irresistible as he pulls off his t-shirt, he catches you staring and winks at you with a grin. 

“You look like a snack, Frankie,” you whisper into his ear as you kiss his cheek again and he smiles, turning his head and kissing your lips. 

“Never thought I’d be getting a tan in the apocalypse.” 

Between the six of you fishing, you catch plenty, more than you need. But Damon has figured out how to extract salt from the ocean water, and shows you all how he preserves the fish by drying and salting it. He gives you plenty of what he’s already dried as extra rations, and prepares what you’ve caught while the best catch gets grilled straight away. 

None of you have eaten fresh fish in years and it feels like a feast and even more like a holiday when Damon serves up what you’ve just caught. You stuff yourself, tipping back on the deck after lunch with your hands on your belly, groaning at how full you are. Frankie smiles down at you from above, his unruly curls waving in the breeze as his eyes crinkle at the corners with a smile, sunlight filtering in and out between the sails and lighting up his tan skin. You’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia, a memory of your first date with him, lying back on his blanket in the park, your belly full of tacos and smiling up at this gorgeous man who’d just taken you up for your first helicopter ride. 

“Do you remember when we had tacos in the park?” you ask and put your hand up to his curls, running your fingers through them. 

“How could I forget,” he smiles, “our first date. I fell asleep on your chest and if you keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep again.” 

You smile up at him and rake your nails across his scalp, always his favorite thing. He drops down and puts his arm over your waist, head on your chest just like he did in the park and it doesn’t take long before you can hear his soft snoring. You catch Will glancing over at the two of you with a smile but when he turns away it slips off his face, replaced with something more doleful. He turns and looks out over the empty ocean and you see his hand curl, white knuckled, around the railing and you know what he’s thinking about. You blink back sudden tears as you look up at the blue sky, dotted with little white tufts. You’d give anything to have Hannah safe on this ship with Will too. 

By the time the sun slips under the western horizon, you’ve reached Dartmouth, the old town dark but still relatively unbroken by the looks of it. Damon takes the ship out further into Buzzards Bay and anchors up. You’re sleepy and relaxed after a day in the sun when you curl up next to Frankie on deck, falling asleep almost instantly as the ship gently sways on the waves. 

The following morning the fog is thick over the bay, but Jodie and Damon have sailed here many times and they easily navigate to the shore, bringing you in at Nonquitt Beach outside Dartmouth. Jodie rows the dinghy in, bringing Pope, Frankie and you in last. 

“Thanks for everything, Jodie,” Pope says, as he unloads the last of the bags. “Safe sailing, we’ll try to get word to you about where we end up.” 

“Take care of yourselves now,” she gives you all a final wave before pushing off the shore again. 

“Ok, back on dry land,” Benny says, looking over across the beach, towards the residential area behind it, “What does the map say, what route?” 

“We head north up to route six, follow that to Taunton River, route six crosses it but if that bridge is out, there’s another one just to the north,” Pope says. “After that it’s a straight stretch into Providence.

Will looks over Pope’s shoulder and points at the neighborhood beyond the beach, “I suggest we try to get through this area and then go inland up to route six. Less houses when we’re away from the coast here.” 

Pope nods in agreement and pockets the map while the rest of you ready your guns. You’ve got three rifles between you now, and you’ve each got a handgun. In silence you all start moving across the beach, Pope in the lead, Will bringing up the rear. It’s not fast going but the neighborhood is empty and quiet. Jodie and Damon had left you here because it was a regular spot for them to meet traders and the area was regularly cleared by people who moved through it and it shows. The buildings are empty, looted, and nothing stirs. 

Finding route six is easy and then you turn west, following it to the river. The trek takes most of the day, a few detours necessary to avoid infected and by the time you see the river, it’s too late to go further, but at least your first day off the ship has been uneventful. Finding a safe looking building to stay in for the night, Pope, Will and Benny go through it, making sure it’s empty, before you make camp in the top apartment. You all divvy up the watches and despite being outside the wall in an unknown city, you sleep fairly well after your watch, and the night passes quietly. You wake up on your side with Frankie’s arm around your waist and his solid body pressed up against your back, by the sound of his heavy breathing, he’s still sound asleep. Desperate for a pee, you carefully move away from his arm and step into your boots. Will is on watch, the final one for the night, and he gives you a warm smile as you step out of the apartment after a quick bathroom visit. He’s standing at the top of the stairs and you lean against the window ledge next to him. 

“All quiet?” you ask in a low voice, not wanting to wake the others still sleeping inside the apartment. 

“All quiet,” he confirms with a nod, “Did you sleep well?” 

“Yeah, it felt pretty safe here, and having you four around helps,” you smile, “It’s really good having you back, Will,” you give his hand a quick squeeze and he smiles again. 

“It’s good being back with you all too,” he says but then hesitates, falling silent for a minute while you watch his mind work, and you reflect over how Will was always more like Frankie with his words, never speaking just for the sake of speaking, they always consider what they want to say before they speak. 

“It’s good being back with family,” he offers eventually, “and not just Benny. You, Frankie and Pope too. I had people I trusted to a certain degree in New York, mostly because I had to trust them. But they were never friends, never family. I’d forgotten what it feels like to be with family.” He looks over at you again, “I missed it more than I realized.” 

“I’m sorry we didn’t find each other sooner. We heard rumors about a guy who sounded like you in the months after the outbreak, but we didn’t think it could be you because it was all the way up in New York.” 

“Yeah, Benny told me about it, I don’t think I would’ve believed it myself.” He shoulders the rifle and comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the window ledge. “I...I feel guilty for not trying harder to get back to Hannah, to Arlington. Things might’ve been different if I had.”

“Or you could’ve died on the way there, there’s no point in thinking you could’ve changed anything. We did what we thought we could do.” 

Will stays silent for a few minutes, you turn to glance out through the window, down at the street, it’s slowly getting lighter now. As you turn back you hear him exhale slowly.  

“Benny told me about Lucía, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to Frankie about it yet,” Will says, his voice even lower, looking over at you. “I’m really sorry, Ben told me it got pretty bad.” 

“It did, we were at Denny’s cabin after and he shut off, barely even spoke. I…I had moments when I wasn’t sure we’d make it, it would’ve been so easy to just stop trying to survive. Frankie didn’t seem to see a reason to live either, I had to keep him alive.”

“What got him out of it?”   

“He got kinda jolted out of it when we got attacked on our way to the Franklin QZ, we were attacked by raiders, we got separated but Frankie killed them, burnt their place down and got us out. But what he had to do…to Lucía…” you trail off, exhaling slowly, “He’s…there’s something darker in him now, it changed him.”

“I think we’ve all changed, forced by circumstances,” Will says, keeping an eye on the open door to the apartment down the hall, “but that kind of trauma would break anyone, and Frankie had been through a lot even before it.” He looks over at you again, “He’d be a lot worse off if it wasn’t for you though, you know that right?” Will gently nudges your shoulder with his own, “You were good for him from the start, before the outbreak, and anyone can see now how you ground him, keep him centered.” 

“I hope it’s enough,” you sigh. Frankie’s darker moments were less frequent after the years he’d spent getting help from Herb, but you’d seen them flare back up when things got heated. The anger was closer to the surface than ever, never directed at you, but always present if he perceived a threat to you, or the violent thoughts he fell into when he thought of revenge. 

“Morning guys,” Pope comes out of the apartment, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, “all quiet?” 

“Yeah, we’re just catching up,” Will says and you push off from the window ledge. 

“Morning, Pope.”

“Morning, hermana,” he gives your shoulder a quick squeeze, “Please go wake Fish, he responds so much better to your morning kisses than mine.” 

“Tonto del culo,” you smirk at him and he chuckles. 

“He really is only teaching you the bad ones.” 

You find Frankie still sound asleep and you almost don’t want to wake him, he looks peaceful and younger, splayed on his belly with his arm as a pillow, the other one thrown over where you’d slept. Benny has stirred across the room, sitting up and scratching his chest. 

“Is it morning?” he asks, his voice drowsy. 

“Yeah, the others are up, I’m just gonna wake Frankie,” you whisper and Benny nods, pushing back his sleeping bag. You sink down on your side, next to Frankie, and run your fingers through his curls, pressing your lips to his scruffy cheek. His nose twitches and a low rumble comes from his chest. 

“Keep doing that, hermosa,” he mutters, his voice rough with sleep and you smile into his patchy beard, your nails scratching across his scalp. 

“Time to wake up, love,” you whisper and he grumbles again, his arm coming up to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, his nose buried against the soft skin of your throat. 

“Despiértate, el pececito,” Pope says, coming into the apartment again, grinning at Frankie’s grumbling. 

“Don’t fucking call me that, I’m bigger and older than you,” he mutters, rolling over on his back as you sit up. 

Coffee and breakfast is quickly done and then packed up before you all head down to the street again. Route six leads right up to the river’s edge, but that’s where it stops, the huge six lane bridge has been wiped out by the bombing after outbreak day. The twisted blue girders lay rusting in the water next to the USS Massachusetts.

“Alright, plan B,” Pope says, pointing north, “there’s another bridge about two miles upriver.” 

“I wonder if anyone thought to make camp on the warship,” Benny says as you walk past it. Nothing stirs and it looks uninhabited but also like it would make a regular fortress with a few guards.

“Probably, but I prefer Jodie and Damon’s idea,” Frankie says, “be far out on the ocean, away from everything, that’s how I’d like to do it.” 

“Wish I could sail,” he adds in a lower voice so that only you can hear, “then that’s what I’d do, take us out there, maybe find a small, uninhabited island down south for shelter during the winter.”

“I’d like that, Frankie,” you whisper back at him and he gives you a quick wink, before he turns forward again. 

“ ‘Veterans’ Memorial Bridge’, how appropriate,” Benny says as you approach the smaller bridge, “But it doesn’t look too good.” 

“Looks like it should hold though,” Pope says, “Let’s get a closer look.” 

The bridge is low and flat and used to open in the middle to let ships through, the center section splitting in two parts and standing straight up. Most of the bridge is still in place and looks solid, but the part that opens hangs below the bridge, as if the two movable slabs have collapsed and sunk lower than their hinges should allow. You all walk up to the edge of the bridge and look out over the tilting road surface. The opposite side of the bridge sits lower than the eastern side, you have to jump across and down to get to it but it seems doable, even to you. 

Benny takes a cautious step onto the part of the bridge that slopes downwards, it doesn’t move under him and he tests it by bouncing on his feets, as if he was on a trampoline, finally jumping up and slamming his boots down onto the surface. The bridge doesn’t budge and Benny looks up at the rest of you. 

“Seems solid enough,” he says, bouncing a few more times. 

“What’s our option, Pope?” Frankie asks, eyeing the gap at the end. 

“Next bridge is twelve miles north of here,” Pope replies, “Doable, but it takes us a long way away from Providence.” 

Will steps out on the bridge next to his brother and does a few test jumps, moving further out from the solid section. 

“It’s not moving an inch, I say we go this way, the jump at the end is easy enough.” 

“Ok,” Frankie agrees, “But let’s go slowly and carefully, I don’t want a fucking bridge collapsing under me.” 

“Too many arepas, fishsticks,” Benny taunts and Frankie flips him off. 

Slowly you all move down the sloping road surface, it remains solid, even when you get to the end of the section and look down at the jump. 

“That side tilts a bit more, be careful when you jump, Benny,” Will says, eyeing his brother as he gets ready to jump. 

“Nothing to it, Ironhead,” Benny says and takes a gigantic leap, overshooting the gap by several feet and slamming down onto the road surface with a grin. 

“Beat that, bro!” he calls, flexing his arms, posing for imaginary cameras. 

Will chuckles and backs up, “Watch me, Benny boy.” Will takes a running start and launches himself over the gap, landing a clear foot further than Benny who scowls. 

“I didn’t have a running start, that doesn’t count.” 

“Yeah, whatever, big bro beat ya, kid.” Will smirks and dodges Benny’s playful swipe at his head. 

“I’ll jump first, you follow me, cariño, ok?” Frankie says, “I’ll catch you when you land.” 

“Ok, but it’s a tiny jump, I’ll be fine, Frankie,” you smile and he gets ready to jump, he’s not going to take part in the Miller brother’s pissing contest. He takes a few steps back and clears the gap, landing just in front of Benny who whoops. 

“Still in the lea - oh fuck!” 

The bridge groans and drops, the section screeching further down towards the water, the angle suddenly sharp. 

“Grab the railing!” Will yells, yanking Benny towards the side while Frankie scrambles to find purchase on something. 

“Frankie!” you yell, you see his boots scraping across the asphalt as he slips down the road. “Will!” Pope shouts, “Grab Fish! Grab him!”  

“Take my hand, Benny!” He grabs Benny’s hand in an armlock and Benny hooks his other arm around the railing, Will reaching out towards Frankie. 

Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest as you watch Frankie scraping along the road, slipping further down as he tries to get to the railing and Will’s hand. You can hear him cursing as his boots slip and he skids down closer to the edge. The bridge groans again and Frankie stumbles, at the last second launching himself forward and grabbing hold of the last part of the railing, his boots dangling over the fifty feet drop. 

“Pull me up!” he shouts, “Pull me the fuck up!”

“I got you,” Will calls, scrambling down the railing, using it as a ladder, “I got you!” He hangs on with one hand and reaches down to Frankie, grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him up. Benny manages to hook his arm around Will’s waist and together they get Frankie high enough so that he can get his feet up on the railing too. 

“Climb!” you yell, “You’ve got to get off the bridge!” You can hear it groaning under them. Benny is already scrambling up the railing, Will makes sure Frankie’s got a good grip and then they both start climbing, rushing as the bridge section slips lower. It’s hanging at almost ninety degrees now and the screech of the metal hinges makes you and Santi yell at them to climb faster. 

Frankie heaves himself over the ledge, Will and Benny holding on to his arms, dragging him up. They scramble to their feet and run backwards as the section rips loose and crashes into the water below. 

“Fuck…” you hear Benny gasp, Frankie’s bent double, his hands on his knees as he looks over to the other side where you and Pope are now stuck. 

“How far did you say the next bridge was?” you ask Santi, your eyes still on Frankie. 

“Twelve miles, four hour hike if we don’t run into trouble.” He gives the guys on the other side a wave, “You guys ok, no injuries?” 

Frankie shakes his head and Benny gives a thumbs up, they’re both standing up now, a safe distance from the ledge. 

“Pope!” Will calls from across the bridge, “what’s the name of the next bridge?”

Pope pulls out the map, “Berkley Bridge, twelve miles north,” he calls back, “Follow the one thirty eight, along the river. There’s a high school next to the bridge, on the west side.” 

“Alright, we’ll meet you there,” Will calls back, “we’ll leave markers if we get there first.” 

“See you there, stay safe!” Pope calls back, giving them a wave. Frankie’s eyes meet yours and despite the distance you can see the anxiety, you know you’ve got the same look. 

“Pope!” he calls, and Pope cuts him off. 

“I know, hermano, I’ll keep her safe, I’ll get her back to you, don’t worry about it.” You feel Santi put his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze, pulling you back towards the eastern shore. You raise your hand to Frankie, and he does the same. 

“Stay safe, Frankie, I love you.” 

“Te amo, mi vida. Stay safe!” 

Pope and you head back to the eastern shore, you feel your legs shaking, the adrenaline leaving your system and you stumble slightly. Pope reaches out and grabs your shoulder, holding you steady. 

“Take it easy, hermana, you doing ok?”

“Just a bit shaky after all that,” you say, “that was way too fucking close.” 

“Yeah, it was,” Santi gives you a squeeze and keeps walking, “thank fuck Will and Benny were there too.” 

“I wish I could be as cool as you guys in situations like that, and then just brush it off and keep going.” 

“We had years of training, remember? And it didn’t always do us a lot of good, trained to do some fucked up shit but no one taught us how to deal with the aftermath.” Pope pulls out the map and scans the street for any landmarks. “We basically just need to follow the river but it curves around a bit so I’m gonna try to not get us too lost.” 

Off in the distance you hear the tell tale sound of infected and you both freeze in your tracks before Pope grabs your arm and pulls you into an alley. Skirting around, moving slowly and carefully, it’s slow going for the rest of the day. You end up spending an hour hiding inside a building while a horde of at least fifty infected shamble past on the street outside. 

“It might’ve been the noise of the bridge falling that attracted them,” Pope says, peeking out through the window at the last infected stragglers. 

“I hope there's no more heading this way,” you say, it’s already been three hours since you left the others at the bridge and you’ve still got a long way to go. At this pace you won’t get the next bridge before nightfall. 

Together you carefully leave the building and move quickly away from the horde, checking every street corner and blind spot before you move on. You manage to move a few more miles, but then a chilling screech goes up close by and Pope pulls you down behind a car, crouching down. It’s in the nick of time, four runners stumble out of an alley across the street. 

“Fuck, they’re everywhere today,” Pope breathes. Glancing behind you he motions you backwards, into a shop, “In here, we need to get off the street.”

It looks like a small mom and pop dry cleaning business inside, you see racks of empty coat hangers behind a counter as Pope scouts forwards and finds the door to the second floor. The door opens up with a small tap of his boot and you both make your way up the stairs slowly. Whoever ran this shop clearly lived on top of it, the stairs leading to a small landing with a closed front door. Pope pushes it open without resistance and quickly scans the small hallway that it opens to. He motions for you to close the door behind you and it shuts with a soft click. Nothing stirs and you quietly follow Pope towards what looks like the living room. You’ve both got your guns out, Pope in front as he steps through the doorway and sweeps the room. He spots the man a split second before the butt of a rifle comes down on the side of his head and he’s thrown to the floor. The crack to his skull disorientates him but he manages to hold on to his gun, rolling onto his back and aiming at the man now advancing on him, a shotgun raised and cocked. His head throbs and he blinks rapidly to clear the fog threatening to envelope him. 

“Lower the gun or your girl gets hurt.” The growl comes from a second man, holding you firm, your arm twisted up behind your back and a large hunting knife pressed against your throat. He’d grabbed you as Pope stumbled to the ground, twisting the gun out of your hand as he yanked you into the room and bent your arm painfully up behind your back. You can feel the cold blade press into your throat, just shy of nicking your skin. 

You see Pope quickly scan the situation, the determination in the two men, the knife against your throat, and he drops his gun, sliding it across the floor.. 

“Check him for any other weapons and tie him up,” your captor orders the man with the shotgun. “On your belly, hands behind your back,” he tells Pope. You see the anger in Santi’s eyes as he rolls over, gritting his teeth. The man holding you doesn’t relent his grip, your shoulder is screaming, another half an inch and he’ll dislocate it. 

“Please, my shoulder,” you whimper, “you’re breaking it.” 

“Don’t worry, darlin´, as soon as he’s secured I’ll loosen my grip.” He’s still got the blade tight against your throat, forcing your head back, his voice is close to your ear and the deep drawl of his rough voice makes your skin crawl.

The man with the shotgun quickly secures Pope’s hands with a cable tie, patting him down and stepping back. 

“He’s clear, Joel, now what?” 

He looks over at the man holding you and your brain goes into overdrive, putting the face of the man in front of you, older now, more worn, together with the deep Texan drawl of the man behind you. 

“Miller!” you gasp, your throat scraping against the knife as the man’s eyes snap to yours. “You’re Tommy Miller! We met, fourth of July, at Denny’s cabin.” You feel the man behind you tighten his grip on your arm, bending it just a little bit further back and you sob, “You’re Will and Benny’s cousins!”

“You’re Frankie’s girl!” Tommy blurts out, his eyes suddenly wide with recognition, “And you,” he looks at Pope, still belly down on the floor, “you’re one of the Delta Force guys.” 

“Yeah, I’m Pope, get these fucking things off me, man,” he spits. Tommy takes a step forward but Joel barks. 

“Tommy, wait! What the fuck are you doing, we can’t trust them!”

“C’mon, Joel, we know them,” Tommy says but he stops in his tracks. 

“Yeah, we knew them, for a weekend, six fucking years ago!” Joel snaps back, Now the-” 

“We’re with Will and Benny,” you interrupt, moving your head back as much as you can from the sharp blade. “We got separated this morning, they’re on the other side of the river, we’re trying to get to the next bridge to meet them.” 

“Will and Benny are alive?” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he shoots Joel a hopeful look before he quickly schools his face back into neutrality. 

“How do we know you’re not just lying? Who else is with you?” Joel growls from behind you. 

“Why the fuck would we lie about that?” Pope growls right back at him from the floor, “We’ve been with Benny since Arlington, at the beginning, and we just found Will in New York about a week ago.” 

“Frankie’s with us,” you say, “It’s just us, Frankie, Will and Benny.” 

“Joel…” Tommy says, “We can’t walk away from this, we gotta see if they’re telling the truth:” 

Joel remains silent behind you, you can see Tommy’s eyes on him but his grip on your arm is still firm. It’s like the two brother’s are having a silent conversation, deciding your fate as your shoulder screams in protest. 

“Fine,” Joel finally spits, “but if they fuck us, it’s on you, Tommy!” He removes the knife from your throat and releases your arms. You collapse forward, stumbling away from him with your arm cradled to your chest. Tommy kneels next to Pope and cuts his ties and Pope gets to his feet with a grumbled thanks. 

“Lead the way then, you two in front,” Joel says as you glance back at him. He’s changed more than Tommy, a bit more gray around his temples and on his jaw, but it’s his face, the expression in his eyes that’s made him almost unrecognizable. The Joel you knew for a long weekend six years ago had a friendly, warm face. You still remember his belly laughs when his daughter and Lucía brought him down with tickles, a friendly giant who didn’t even protest when Lucía lay flat across his legs with Sarah over his chest. The man scowling at you now looks dangerous and feral, angry lines carved into his face and a hard set jaw. 

“Sure, I’ll take the lead,” Pope says, accepting his gun back from Tommy, much to Joel’s dissatisfaction. “Let me just check her shoulder first, you twisted it pretty hard by the looks of it.” The sharp tone in his voice isn’t lost on Joel and he only answers with another low growl. 

Pope gently prods your shoulder and you wince under his touch. “Feels like the muscle has been torn, like a sprain,” he says, “I’ll make you a sling when we get to the others, keep your hand hooked into your jacket for now.” He briefly cups your cheek with his hand, “You ok, hermana?” he asks in a low voice and you’re reminded of how similar his eyes are to Frankie’s when they share the same look of concern. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, giving him a small smile and he smiles back. 

“Ok, we’ve got about two hours I think, to the bridge,” he says, looking over at Joel who gives a curt nod. “We good to go?” 

“Yeah, take the lead,” Joel says and motions to the door. 

Pope quickly finds the back door of the shop, scanning the narrow alley before stepping out. You stay behind him, then Tommy, with Joel covering the rear. You move as fast as possible through the streets, eventually coming out into the countryside and cutting across fields. Twice you have to hastily hide from groups of infected, still moving south towards the broken bridge but after the second group has passed you see no more. By the time you see the river again the sun has just sunk below the horizon, it’s taken you almost the whole day to cover the twelve miles and you’re exhausted. As the Berkley Bridge finally comes into view you’re dead on your feet, hungry and thirsty and your shoulder aches. 

“Hang in there,” Pope says to you in a low voice, dropping back and giving your uninjured shoulder a squeeze, “the high school is just on the other side of the bridge.” 

“I can’t wait to just lie down and sleep,” you reply, “I really hope the others got there ok.” 

Pope nods in response and steps forward again, taking the lead as you all step onto the bridge. It’s in one piece and you breathe a sigh of relief when you’re across it. It doesn’t take long to reach the high school and Pope quickly finds a marker carved into the gate post. 

“Back door,” he says and leads you around the building. It’s fully dark now and it’s slow going, but you finally see a half open door to a smaller section of the school and as you approach you hear the sound of a weapon cocking. 

“Stop, identify yourself!” you hear Frankie’s low voice, stern and commanding, he’s expecting two people, not four, and he’s raised the rifle, aiming at you through the darkness. 

“Catfish,” Pope calls, “stand down, it’s us.” 

You see Frankie lower his rifle a little bit as the four of you come out of the gloom, his finger is still near the trigger and he doesn’t put the safety on. 

“Who’s with you?” he asks, his eyes landing on Joel and Tommy behind you. 

“Joel and Tommy Miller, Ben and Will’s cousins,” Pope replies and you see recognition flash across Frankie’s face before his eyes widen. . 

“Holy shit, what are the odds of that?” 

“Pretty high I’d say,” Tommy replies, stepping forward and extending his hand, “Good to see you again, man.” Frankie shakes his hand and then Joel, who, a bit more reluctantly, grabs Frankie’s hand as he extends it.

“Come inside, and we’ll bar this door for the night,” Frankie says, stepping to the side and motioning the men towards the door before he turns to you. His eyebrows knit together as he sees your arm, still hooked into the opening of your jacket to support your shoulder. 

“You’re hurt, what happened?” He shoulders the rifle and steps forward as gently reaches for your wrist. 

“It’s my shoulder, Pope says the muscle is torn a bit. He’s gonna make me a sling.” 

“How did it happen?” he asks, moving his hands up to your shoulder, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort. 

“I’ll tell you later, I just wanna get inside and sit down, I’m exhausted, Frankie.”

“Of course, c’mere, I’ve got you,” he leads you inside and helps you off with your pack as Pope and Tommy shut the door and slide a heavy iron girder in place.  

“We’re just a bit further in, we found a room with shuttered windows so we can have some light.” Frankie leads you all down a hallway and turns right, pushing open a door he steps into a classroom. The desks have been pushed up along the walls and in the middle Will’s got a couple of camper stoves set up, the smell of food making your stomach growl. 

“Look who we found,” Pope grins as he waves Tommy and Joel in through the door. You can’t help but smile as you see Will and Benny look up, confusion on their faces at first and then, almost simultaneously, shift into huge smiles as they recognise their cousins. 

“Holy shit, what the actual fuck?!” Benny whoops and jumps to his feet, grabbing Joel into a bear hug, “Where the fuck did you come from?!” he says as he tries to pick Joel up off the floor under loud protests. 

“Put me the fuck down, Benny,” he laughs, slapping him on the back. Will and Tommy hug, big grins on both men and then Benny pulls Tommy into another bear hug, laughing as Will embraces Joel. It’s good to see the tension melt away from Tommy and especially Joel. He’d been guarded the whole way, not quite trusting that Pope and you were telling the truth. But now, seeing the four Miller cousins hug it out with big smiles, even Joel looks less intimidating. 

Frankie gently takes your uninjured hand and leads you over to where his sleeping bag is rolled out, helping you sit down. You sink down gratefully and lean back against the wall, finally relaxing. 

“Let me get your boots off,” he says in a low voice, the Miller boys still catching up and laughing behind him. You nod and rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes. Your shoulder is throbbing, you’re going to have to dip into your small supply of expired painkillers soon. Frankie pulls your boots off, and your damp socks, gently rubbing the soles of your feet as you sigh and shoot him a pleased smile. 

“Thanks, Frankie,” you mumble. 

“Anything, hermosa,” he smiles back, letting go of your feet. “But I need to check your shoulder, might be less nice.” 

“Do what you have to do as long as I can have food afterwards, I’m starving.” 

“You took a long time getting here, what happened?” Frankie asks, making you sit up so that he can slide your jacket off. 

“There were infected everywhere, we had to stay hidden for long periods of time. Pope thinks maybe the noise from the bridge collapsing attracted them.” 

“Yeah, we saw some on our side of the river, but not that many. How does this feel?” He gently prods the joint of your shoulder and you wince as he carefully moves your arm. 

“Hurts and feels very stiff,” you say, glancing down at it. There’s a dark bruise forming and you can see the swelling around the joint.. 

“If we had an ice pack I’d put it on,” Frankie says, “But for now, keep it still, I’ll get you that sling.” Frankie steps over to his pack and rifles through it, coming back and setting your shoulder more comfortably against your chest. You watch his deft hands as he works and when he’s done you lean in and capture his lips in a soft kiss. He hums against you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. 

“I’m so happy you’re ok, Frankie,” you whisper, “Did you get hurt on the bridge?” 

“Just a few scrapes,” he says, his mouth still close to yours as he turns up his palms and shows you a few angry looking lines. “I had to clean them with alcohol, that fucking stung,” he chuckles, “but they’re fine now. How did you hurt your shoulder?” 

“Promise you won’t get mad?” you say, pulling back a little so that you can see his face clearly and he frowns at you. 

“What happened?” His eyebrows come together in a frown, his body stiffening under your touch.  

“We, Pope and me, had to hide in a building when a group of infected surprised us.Turned out Joel and Tommy were already in there and they grabbed us, Joel twisted my arm behind my back. But they didn’t know it was us,” you say hastily as you see Frankie scowl and look towards Joel. “Frankie,” you pull his eyes back to you, “they just did what we would’ve done if someone unknown walked in here now.” 

“Yeah, ok,” he relents, his face softening again, “Let me get you some food, should be done now.” 

As Frankie stands up Joel comes over, he’s got a bowl in his hand and as he crouches down he hands it to you. 

“How’s the shoulder? Sorry ‘bout it,” he says, looking at the makeshift sling Frankie’s put together. 

“It’s sore, but it’ll heal, don’t worry about it,” you reply, gratefully accepting the bowl of stew and rice. 

“Alright,” Joel responds, clearing his throat, “Good, and thanks for…” he waves his hand over at where Benny and Will are deep in conversation with Tommy, going over what’s happened in the six years since they last saw each other. “It’s good seeing them in one piece.” 

“I’m glad we were able to bring you guys together,” you say as Joel gets to his feet again, nodding to Frankie.

“Good to see you too, Frankie.” 

“Yeah, same, Joel,” Frankie replies as Joel turns and begins rolling out his sleeping mat.

Frankie grabs a bowl for himself and sinks down next to you, you’re almost done with the stew, wolfing it down. 

“Got you some painkillers too, cariño,” he hands them to you with his water canteen and you gratefully swallow the two pills. Once they kick in you slip into your sleeping bag, drifting off as Frankie helps Ben take care of the dishes. You barely wake as he slips in next to you, careful to not disturb your shoulder, but you reach for his hand as he puts his arm over your waist, turning your head towards him as he places a soft kiss on your cheek. 

The dull throbbing in your shoulder wakes you early next morning and forces you to get up, just to get some relief. There’s thin slivers of light shining through the shutters, giving you enough light to move around and pad out into the hallway in your socks. You’d missed any talk of having a watch roster last night but it seems you were allowed to sleep through the night. Tommy is sitting on a bench close to the door you came in through, playing cards with himself, a rifle next to him. 

“Morning,” you greet him and he looks up. 

“Hey, how’s the shoulder?” He scoots over on the bench, making room for you as you carefully move your arm. 

“Sore and swollen, it’ll take a few days to get better, but don’t worry about it,” you say as you see his apologetic face, “you did what we would’ve done in the same situation.” 

“Yeah, I suppose, we all have to assume the next person we meet is either infected or the enemy.” 

“Not much trust going ‘round these days,” you agree, watching him gather up the cards and shuffle them. 

“I wanted to ask you,” you begin cautiously as he starts dealing. “Joel’s daughter, Sarah?” 

Tommy nods, his hands stopping as he looks up at you, “She didn’t make it, she died that first night,” he says, his voice low and you sigh and close your eyes. 

“Fuck...I’m sorry, Tommy,” you look up at him again as he leans back against the wall. “I didn’t wanna assume but when she wasn’t with you, I had to ask.”

“Yeah, of course, just don’t mention it to Joel,” Tommy tilts his head so that he can look over at you. “He’s not one to talk about it.” 

You nod, rubbing your hand over your face, “I get it, more than you think.” 

“Frankie’s girl?” Tommy says and you hear the question in his voice. 

“A few days after the outbreak, she got infected.” 

Now it’s Tommy’s turn to breathe out a low Fuck as he drops his head back against the wall again. “I’m sorry, for you and for Frankie, she was a great kid.” 

“So was Sarah,” you say, giving Tommy a weak smile, “Lucìa wouldn’t stop talking about her after we got home, she was bugging Benny to invite you guys over as soon as possible so that they could meet again.” 

Tommy chuckles softly, “Yeah, I remember them thick as thieves at Denny’s, Lucìa following her around like a puppy.” He absentmindedly shuffles the deck of cards in his hand as you both stay silent for a few minutes, the soft snores of the still sleeping men coming from the classroom. 

Tommy suddenly laughs softly, keeping his voice low, “I remember how annoyed Frankie got when I flirted with you that weekend, he got really possessive, those hickeys the next morning,” he grins and you feel your cheeks getting red at the memory, even all these years later. 

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” you say and Tommy nods. 

“Poker? I promise I won’t suggest the strip version,” he grins, dealing out the cards again. 

You play a couple of rounds until you hear people stirring in the classroom. Frankie pokes his head out of the door and comes over when he sees you. 

“Morning, sweetie,” you smile up at him as he bends to give you a kiss. 

“Morning, cariño, you sleep ok? How’s the shoulder?” He lets his kiss linger a little bit longer than usual, his hand cupping the back of your head, before he pulls back and sits down on the bench next to you. 

“Sore and swollen,” you say, shifting it a bit. 

“I’ll get you a better sling today, just need a piece of wood to support your arm.” 

“What’s the plan, down to Providence?” you ask, “I don’t know if you guys made plans after I fell asleep last night.” 

“Not Providence,” Tommy says immediately, “we were on our way there but the QZ’s fell, overrun by infected.” 

“Shit, what happened?” you ask, “We heard it was fine just a few days ago.” 

“Not sure, but we ran into a survivor a week ago and he said FEDRA got challenged by another group when FEDRA kept cutting rations. FEDRA took out the other group pretty harshly, imposed martial law and people tried escaping or rebelling, it had been going on for a couple of months.” Tommy gathers the cards up and shuffles them before putting them back in the box. “The survivor we talked to didn’t know how it had happened, but infected got in, or someone who was infected slipped through the checkpoint, it started spreading on the inside anyway. FEDRA lost control and started executing everyone, so riots broke out and FEDRA left, just took the last working trucks and just took off.” 

“Did you get to Providence, what’s the situation like there now?” Frankie asks, leaning forward to look at Tommy. 

“We didn’t get to the gates, got told to not go anywhere near it, too many infected.” Tommy glances up towards the door as Joel looks out. 

“Morning, Joel.” 

“Morning, coffee’s ready if y'all want some,” he says and you can smell it wafting through the hallway now. 

“So what’s your plan then?” Frankie asks as you go back towards the classroom. 

“Boston, I think,” Tommy says, “It’s the nearest QZ from here, big enough.” 

You sit down next to Will who gives you a quick smile and a mug of coffee, Frankie sinks to the floor next to you too. 

“Thanks, Will,” he says, taking a second mug. “So what’s our plan then, if Providence is a no go?” He looks over at Will and Pope, “Boston for us too?” 

“I don’t know about you guys,” Benny says, “but I think we should stick together, with Joel and Tommy I mean.” 

You see Pope frown, he hasn’t warmed up to Joel after yesterday, and by the way Joel stiffens and scowls at his coffee mug, you know he’s not all for it either. 

“I think it’s a great idea, Benny;” Tommy says, glancing over at Joel, “You guys are family and we know you and Will consider the rest of y’all as family too, we can trust each other.” 

“What do you say, Joel?” Will asks, he can sense that Joel’s not totally onboard and the older man looks down at his coffee, jaw working as he seems to go over the options in his head. 

“Yeah, might be a good idea,” he says eventually, but there’s still hesitation in his voice, “there’s safety in numbers and y’all are ex Special Ops, and like Tommy says, we can trust each other,” he says the last thing looking over at Pope who holds his gaze for a few seconds before nodding. 

“Yeah, we can trust each other.”

Joel nods to Pope, the two men seeming to come to some sort of silent agreement. 

You think it seems like a good idea, it makes sense. You can’t see Will and Benny just walking away from their cousins now, even if they’re maybe not the same people they were six years ago. And like Joel said, there’s safety in numbers and it’s forty miles to Boston, lots of bombed out suburban landscape to cover. You shudder at the thought, your shoulder aches, you’re in no shape to take on anything and the thought of having to cover forty miles on foot makes you miserable. Frankie notices your body shiver and slips his arm around your waist. 

“What’s up, hermosa?” he whispers softly in your ear as he leans his chin on your good shoulder. 

“It’s a long way to Boston,” you whisper back, looking over at him with worried eyes, “I’m scared, so much can go wrong.” 

“We’ll go slow, be cautious, and not let Benny jump on bridges.” The last thing he says with a crooked smile, nudging your nose with the cool tip of his own.  

“No more bridges please,” you say, giving him a small smile. 

“Maybe I should lay off the arepas,” Frankie chuckles softly, his hand now rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. “Amor de mi vida,” he whispers after a while, “I can’t promise everything will be fine, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, I promise that.” 

“And keep yourself safe,” you add, “you’re the love of my life too, Frankie.” He gives a little nod before his soft lips press against yours. You’re still sitting next to Will, right by the camping stove, but you’re in a bubble of your own with Frankie. The others talk about Boston, the route and possible dangers. You don’t notice Joel watching you with a frown, his fingers tapping on his thigh, before he glances down at the broken watch on his arm.

Chapter 28

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446

[r0ttenhearts]

Butler! Scaramouche X Lady of the House! Reader

angst, comfort, nsfw

part 1/3

being born the lady of the house wasn’t easy, your younger days had been filled with countless hours of classes of etiquette and what was expected of you once you reached the age of your arranged marriage.

but that all changed when he arrived. a boy your age, arriving with his mother to become the new head maid and butler. his striking purple eyes caught your attention as you bonded with the boy once he was assigned to you.

as the years passed you couldn’t ignore the warmth that grew in your heart with the more time you spent with him. you noticed his cold demeanor towards the other servants in the house, but the warmth that came from him when he was with you. you figured he must have felt the same. so one morning you decided to put, what you thought were his feelings, to the test.

there he stood in front of you, waking you as he did every morning. “good morning, young lady.” he bowed. you let out a small giggle as you becon him closer to you so he could be standing next to your bed. “all formal now are we?” you ask. "are you ready for breakfast, young lady?" a slight smile appears on his face.

you shake your head, grabbing his collar and bringing him closer to your face. “i think i’ll have you instead.” you bring your lips to his as you gently kiss him, losing your first kiss to the first boy you’ve ever loved. he freezes but blushes deeply and kisses you with the same passion, his heart beats wildly. the butler in him tells him that it's wrong, that he shouldn't be kissing a noble lady like you ... but he doesn't care. he gives in entirely to his feelings. he doesn't care what anyone says, you are his, and he is yours... he can't even think straight... he loses control, kissing you intensely while wrapping his arms around you.

you pull him onto the bed as the both of you continue your heated kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you mumble against his lips. his hands went to your waist, holding you close against him as the both of you broke your kiss. a string of saliva separating your lips, leaving you both gasping for breath.

“i’ve always loved you. since the day we met i’ve loved you.” he confesses. you look at him in shock but it quickly turns into pure joy as you push him down. “oh how i’ve loved you for these past years. my heart is full of you and only you my dear.” scaramouche looks up at you and cups your cheek tenderly. a striking contrast to his usual self; but he can’t help his overwhelming feelings for you.

he resumes your kiss from before, leaning up as you straddle him. you can feel his clothed heat poking at your entrance through your thin panties. you shyly unzip his pants, looking at him for permission as he nods. he helps you get undressed by pulling your nightgown over your head, leaving you in just your bottoms. “god, you’re beautiful.” he gropes your breast as he takes the other in his mouth, licking your hardened nipple.

you let out a breathy moan as he continues his assault on your breasts, switching from one to the other and leaving marks on your chest. “i have to leave a reminder that you’re mine.” he smirks.

you whine as you feel your wetness start to pool through the fabric of your panties. grabbing onto his arm you look at him with pleading eyes. “scara.. please. i need you.” the nickname you have called him since childhood is enough to set him off as he finishes undressing himself and pulls down your panties, seeing your slick sticking to them is more than enough to get his attention.

scaramouche lays you down as he hovers about you, kissing you gently as he slowly pushes b himself inside of you. you squeeze your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he slowly moves.

there are no words to describe the feeling. there are no words to express what he's feeling. his eyes are closed and he's completely absorbed in this wonderful feeling, this overwhelming sensations. his brain has shut off completely, overwhelmed by the pleasure he's feel and the love he's feeling. everything about you is perfect. you are perfect, his heart is filled with warmness and love. he never knew that this feeling could be so wonderful. he'll never forget this, you are everything he's ever wanted.

“can i go faster? does it hurt?” you shake your head as you tightened your hold on him. “make me feel good scara..” you mumble into his ear. scaramouche quickened his pace as he feels your tight cunt suck in his dick. he moans your name and clenches the sheets around your head. “i-it’s unreal. reaching the spaces your fingers can’t.” he breaths out as your face heats up at the mention of you touching yourself. he yells out as he grabs onto your ass, you can feel his dick twitching inside of you as his warm cum splurts out. the twitching of his warmth was enough to bring you to your climax as the both of you rode it out until he collapsed next to you.

“that.. was amazing.” you say as you turn to him, putting your hand on his cheek. “i love you scara.”

“i love you too.. y/n.”

he pats your head as he sits up on the edge of your bed, collecting his clothes and redressing himself in his butler attire. “we should get going young miss, your family must be wondering where you are.” you playfully smack his arm as you do the same, walking down to the dining room where your parents and siblings were. scaramouche pulled your seat out for you as he always did, almost as if just 10 minutes ago he hadn’t been inside of you. the thought makes your face heat up as you continue your day as you usually do.

[sunlightmurdock]

pussy eating competition between jake and bradley using u…..

It’s not exactly a secret that you’ve got some kind of weird, friends with benefits type of situation going on with Rooster — that’s not what makes people gossip about you. It’s that you’ve quite clearly got a similar kind of thing going on with Jake that makes them whisper.

Still, none of you has ever confirmed or denied a single thing. Just three really good friends. That’s all.

Today, you’re laying across the two of them, your head resting against Jake’s thigh while your legs are draped over Bradley’s thighs. You’re just watching a movie. It’s innocent enough that someone might pass the three of you off as really just friends.

If it wasn’t for Bradley’s hand resting on your pelvis, his thumb stroking slow, uniformed circles on your clit, underwear nudged to the side.

Jake glances across to watch, smoothing his fingers softly along your scalp. His lips quirk softly. “Y’know, you’ll have to tell us one day.”

You and Bradley look up at him together, waiting for him to explain.

“Which one of us is better, I mean.” Jake explains. Bradley scoffs loudly from your other side. He smirks calmly, turning his attention back to the movie without halting his work between your legs.

“I’ve already got my answer, Hangman.” Bradley says Jake’s name like it’s an insult. You roll your eyes and kick at his thigh, tucking your arms behind your head.

“I’ll believe that when she says it, Bradshaw.”Jake replies with the same tone.

“Oh, please. I can get myself off better than the both of you combined.” It’s a playful statement, said with a truly Jake Seresin level of cockiness, just to shut the both of them up. It works. Jake turns his head and stares down you. Bradley’s hand stills between your legs as he frowns across.

“Is that right?” Jake whispers, challenging you. You smile up at him and nod.

And suddenly, that chilled Saturday afternoon with your best friends comes to a screeching halt. You’re tossed down against your mattress and Jake’s strong hands are holding you down so fucking hard, and his clean shaven face is pressed into your soaked core and fuck — it never takes him long to have your hands curling into your sheets.

They’ve asked you before, which one of them is better in bed. You’ve never had an answer for them. There’s truly no comparison with them both being so different.

Jake being such a fucking tease, so confident in his abilities that he’ll bring you to the edge and let it ebb away again and again until you’re crying — because he knows that he can get you to cum whenever he damn well pleases.

He does it today until you’re just about ready to scream out in frustration. Bradley chuckles as you kick at Jake’s shoulder, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“Come on, Hangman. Don’t be mean.” Bradley murmurs, palming a hand over his shorts as your body trembles against Jake’s mouth.

Jake pulls away long enough to leave a biting kiss against the apex of your thigh, groaning softly as you cry out. “I don’t think she deserves nice.” You gasp as he slaps your pussy, moaning out and tugging at his roots until he buries his face between your legs again.

You’re cumming hard, tugging at his Sandy roots and arching your back off of the bed — and it’s Jake, so he doesn’t stop there. He just keeps going until your legs are so tensed that you can’t feel them and you’re seeing flashes behind your eyelids.

“I… Shit, I need a minute.” You pant out, flushed and breathless. You eyes are closed but you can faintly feel them moving around you. Instinctively, you close your legs and whine out. “I was kidding, guys, ease up.”

They both laugh together. This time Jake sounds closer, Bradley’s breath is cool against your warm thighs. He presses his mouth to a fresh bruise left behind by Jake’s teeth, shooting Jake a quick look for having the nerve to mark you.

His mouth teases over everywhere except your most sensitive spots. Your thighs, your pelvic bone, tongue teasing over your folds.

“You want me to stop?” Bradley’s voice, velvety as always, comes from between your legs. A smile works its way across your face as you slide a hand into his curls and shake your head. You rarely tell him no and, truthfully, you’d like to see how this little competition with Jake will go.

“I can take it, Bradshaw. Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jake chuckles, brushing your hair back away from your forehead and leaning down to kiss your mouth slowly, “That’s my girl.”

Bradley’s always been less of a tease than Jake, but you’d be stupid if you thought that meant it was any less intense. His mouth works feverishly between your lips, sucking at your clit and lapping at your excitement, taking advantage of all of that extra sensitivity.

Your heel presses hard into the mattress, arching away from his touch, tugging at his roots to keep him against you at the same time. Jake watches, suddenly quiet for once as he observes the way that Bradley’s able to make you writhe.

Already overstimulated, you grab at Jake’s wrist as you cum again, this time soaking Bradley’s mouth. Fighting to keep your head from spinning, coherent thoughts the furthest thing from your mind at this point.

Bradley smirks, lifting his gaze to look at Jake as you try to catch your breath.

[dira333]

Little Feet - Touya x Reader

For my Follower Celebration. I wrote this in the Passing Peonies Universe, I hope my Anon Requester won't mind.

0. 

The bell chimes as the door opens. Rico smiles as he gingerly makes his way through the shop, careful not to throw any plants of the shelves. Not for the first time Touya is amazed how he could have ended up with a job like this with a Quirk like his.

“Himiko.” Touya calls for her. “Your husband is here.”

Himiko is nothing but a flash of blond hair and a green apron as she moves past him, leaping into Rico’s arms with a shriek.

“Baby!” She peppers kisses over his face and Touya turns away to give them some privacy. 

You’ve come out from the back room as well, carrying a Bonsai in your arms.

“Let me.” He moves over to take the heavy plant from you, taking the time to press his mouth against your temple.

“We’re going out for lunch.” Himiko declares somewhere from behind him and he turns, comment ready when he notices something that has him freeze.

He knows Rico to be protective, kind and overall gentle with everything that he does. But this is new. 

Himiko is standing in front of him, holding his left hand with both of hers, playing with his wedding ring. That’s a common sight but Rico’s right hand is protectively splayed over Himiko’s belly in a way that can only mean one thing.

Your hand lands on his elbow a second too late, as his tongue moves faster than his brain.

“Are you pregnant?” He asks and Himiko’s eyes flick up to his, something like fear visible in her eyes.

“Yes.” Rico answers for his wife. “We are.” There is so much pride in his voice Touya can feel it settle around him, like the first snow of the year. 

You gush excitedly next to him and not for the first time it feels like there are two separate conversations going on. One between you and Rico and one between him and Himiko. 

He swallows thickly and thinks what he wants to say. What she needs to hear…

“They better call me Uncle Touya.” He says, “The kid, I mean.”

Himiko’s face changes in slow motion, her eyes grow big with surprise before they fill with a soft fondness she rarely shows openly to anyone but those closest to her.

“Course.” Rico says and looks down at Himiko. “Right?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “Of Course.”

They leave soon after for their lunch date, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask and step closer, take his hand and play with his fingers.

“I didn’t know they were planning to have children.”

“Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t.” You shrug. “But they are happy and they have all means necessary to raise a happy and healthy child.”

“Do you want children?” He turns to look at you. “I mean I know you want children and I want them too but I’ve been so caught up in just living one day after the other, I forgot to think about that we’re getting older and-”

You laugh softly and kiss him. 

“We’re not that old yet, Touya. We still have time if you don’t feel ready yet.”

“How about that?” He asks. “I’ll make sure that each day turns out nice and you’ll take the planning for the future?”

You laugh again. “We’re already doing that anyway, Touya. But yes, let’s do it that way.”

🪷

1.

Two yellow eyes blink back at Touya in a mess of chocolate pudding.

“Izumi.” He huffs softly and is rewarded with a bright, cheeky smile. “Yes, you know exactly what you did, I’m sure.”

The boy, barely one and a half years old yet big for his age, smashes his hands down into the mess covering his plate.

“I thought you loved chocolate pudding.” Touya grabs some wipes from the counter and starts wiping the boy's face, careful to be gentle.

With a groan, you wake up from your nap. Touya sends you a smile over the head of Izumi who’s at least not fighting against getting cleaned up.

“You’re already eating?” You ask, rubbing your face. “How long did I sleep?”

“Just long enough for Izumi to redecorate his face. When’s Himiko coming to pick him up? Did she say anything?”

“I don’t remember.” You yawn and sink down into the pillows again. “Gosh, I’m so tired.”

“That’s your coffee consumption coming back to haunt you.” He teases you and pulls Izumi out of his high chair.

The boy giggles happily as he gets carried over to where you are.

“Aunty.” He says softly, stretching out his arms towards you. Touya looks down at him, pride filling his chest. 

“Yes, that’s right Izumi. That’s Aunty. Can you say Uncle too?”

“Dada.” Izumi blinks up at him. 

“No, not Dada. Rico is Dada. You know, the big guy who puts you to bed every night?”

“Mama.” Izumi smiles brightly and you giggle at the defeated look on Touya’s face.

“Not Mama either. If you keep this up, I won’t let you play with our daughter when she’s born, you hear me?”

“Don’t be mean, Touya.” You huff and pull Izumi closer to you. The boy looks up at Touya and curls around your belly as if he knows that someone important is growing inside of it.

🪷

2.

His daughter is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

She’s red faced and wrinkly, hands balled to fists and screaming her head off.

Her eyes are as blue as his, capturing him the first time she opens them.

There are no words for what he feels. Warmth is seeping into every fiber of his body as he holds her, little Touju. This is a new kind of fire and one he never wants to go out.

“Look at her.” He tells you as Touju drinks eagerly, one of her tiny hands free from the blanket she’s wrapped in. “She’s so perfect.”

He kisses your temple, presses his face into your hair to hide his tears. But you know him better than that, your free hand finding his. You offer him comfort with your touch, a hand to hold onto. 

“I wonder if my Dad felt this way.” He tells you in a whisper, the words barely getting past his throat. “When I was born.”

“I think he did. I can’t imagine a parent not feeling this way for their child.”

He curls around you on the small hospital bed, wishing he could freeze his moment forever. Just you and him and Touju and nothing to be afraid of, nothing that can hurt any of you.

“Why wasn’t he a better father then?” He asks, tears burning in his eyes, choking him. “Why-?”

“Touya.” Your voice is soft but firm enough to pull him out of his mind. 

“I don’t want to excuse your fathers behaviours in the past but you cannot forget that he did not have any support besides your mother. You’ve been able to utilize therapy and other support. You are not the same.”

He falls silent after that, bringing your joined hands up to rest them under Touju, holding her close.

You don’t speak either, allowing him to process the moment.

🪷

3.

There’s no better thing than spending Sunday Mornings with his daughter on his chest while you sleep next to him.

Touju shares his tendency to wake up early, but as soon as she’s fed she falls quiet again. Her warm body fits perfectly against his and he smiles at her whenever she manages to lift her head to look at him.

There’s no better thing than her sweet babbling, her excited giggles or the face she makes when she eats, fully content with the world.

Touju might be the most loved child in the world.

His mother sewed her baby blanket by hand and the stuffed yellow duck that never leaves Touju’s side was made by your mother. 

His brothers and sister have a groupchat where they discuss who gets to babysit next and his father is known to hijack their plans by showing up first.

And then there’s Izumi.

The backroom is littered with pictures of the two children. 

Izumi holding Touju. The two of them cuddled up during a picnic. 

He’s close to his own little brother Yasushi, but he’s closer to Touju.

And when the worry comes knocking at Touya’s heart, your hand is there to hold his, to remind him… That you’re the one planning the future and he’s the one taking care of the day.

🪷

4.

Touju’s fourth birthday has come and gone without any sign of her Quirk.

She’s not too interested in it either, not when there’s so much other stuff to do.

“Too-chan.” She climbs into his lap during breakfast. “Can I come to work with you today?”

“Hmm?” He looks down at her. “You want to come to work with me?”

“YES! I want to help with the garden too!”

“Are you sure? Izumi comes into the shop after school.”

That has her rethinking her wish, lower lip caught between her teeth as she ponders her plans.

Touya looks over to you and stretches out his hand to softly caress the swell of your belly. You rest your hand on his, halting him in his movement just in time to make him feel his son kick.

“Too-chan…” He looks down at his daughter who seems to have come to a decision.

“Can we come back home early? I want to spend time with Izumi.”

“No, baby. I can’t come back home early. We’re at a tight schedule with the garden. But I can ask Aunt Fuyumi to pick you up after work and walk you home? Is that okay?”

She furrows her brows, distraught by having to choose between spending time with her father or her best friend. 

“Okay.” She says finally. “But can we cuddle before we go to work?”

“Of course.”

Touju sinks into him, face pressed against his chest just like she’s done as a newborn. 

Touya moves, careful not to disturb Touju, until he sits right next to you, elbows knocking into each other.

“Hey beautiful.” He kisses you.

You hiss into his kiss and he looks down at your belly.

“Touju.” He tells his daughter quietly. “I think you need to teach Hyouta to be a bit nicer to Mama.”

🪷

5.

They have gone over this so many times already, Touju’s rolling her eyes sassily as he explains again.

“This is important, Baby.” He tells her with his best Dad-voice. “Can you repeat what I just said?”

“If I feel funny, I have to step back from other people and hold up my hands in case my quirk is coming in. I have to find the nearest grown up and wait until the feeling passes.”

“Exactly. You’re doing great, baby. Until we know what your quirk is it’s best to be cautious, okay?”

“Are you afraid that it’s going to be fire like Grandpa?” Touju asks as she takes his hand to walk the short distance from the car to the garden they’re working in today.

“Any quirk can be dangerous when used wrong.” He explains and she cocks her head to the side to look at him.

“But Aunty Himiko was afraid, right? Izumi told me that she cried a lot before his quirk got in.”

“Aunty Himiko has been treated badly because of her quirk in the past. She didn’t want Izumi to be treated the same.”

“I think Izumi’s quirk is the coolest.” Touju exclaims with confidence. “He should become the next Symbol of Hope.”

“You think so?” He brushes a hand through her hair that she wanted to keep open today. 

“Yeah! He’s like the Phantom Thief, but cooler!”

“Well, you gotta tell Uncle Izuku then.”

“I did. Uncle Zuku said he thinks that it’s a great idea.”

“That sounds like him. Now, come on. We got to get to work.”

He turns away from her for a second to unlock the heavy gate to the garden. 

When he turns back, Touju look at him in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“Are you okay, Baby?”

“I feel weird.” She says, her voice high with anxiety. “Is that my Quirk coming in?”

“That depends. Take a deep breathe, okay? Like that. You’re doing great, Baby.”

Touju takes a deep breathe, then another. Her hands, still so tiny against his own, shake in front of her as they hold a perfect golden flame.

Touya sinks on his knees and puts his hands beneath hers, holding them steady.

“Look at it.” He says, his voice soft. “This is your gift.”

“Like Grandpa?” Touju asks, her voice breathy. 

“And Uncle Shouto and me. This is your quirk.”

“Are you mad that it’s fire?” Touju’s voice shakes like her hands had before. The flame disappears as if it hadn’t been there at all.

Touya pulls her close, wraps her up tightly in his arms.

“No.” He says, knowing that it’s the truth. “I could never.”

🪷

@misfit-megumi @shoulmate @pixiesavvy @the2ndl @neko-my-cat @chelseaquake @tiredslepz @frozen-phoenix17 @spltbtch @touyasprettydoll @dream-girl-stuff @fuzztacular

Tagged all my Passing Peonies Friends.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[writer-komaru]

Lovebites

Here’s a list of how a few Danganronpa boys would show you their affection for you through a somewhat taboo way; by leaving an almost permanent memento right on your skin.

Bites - Soda

He’s always been a bit scared of how sharp his teeth are. He has to be very careful to not bite his tongue, because when he does, he’s practically writhing on the ground in pain. So when you first asked him to bite your neck, he immediately jumped back.

“A-Are you serious?! Can’t you see how sharp my teeth are? If I bite too deep, I could probably cut something important!”

You chuckled at how much of a fuss he was making.

“Then why not on my shoulder? It doesn’t have to be too deep, just a little mark. Please?”

It’s impossible for him to hold back when you give him such cute puppy dog eyes.

“Ahhh… Fine. Just don’t move.”

He pulls you onto his lap and stares down at your bare shoulder. After hesitating for a second, praying to the gods above it doesn’t start spewing blood, he gently presses his teeth against it. You stifle a whine at the prickling feeling. It felt strangely good, like being marked by a vampire. While you were busy swooning, he cussed under his breath as small beads of red blood started to form on the place he bit. He scrambled to grab some bandaids, almost falling face first off the bed. It was so adorable how much he cared for you.

(NSFW warning)

Hickies - Byakuya

“…. Are you being serious right now?”

He stared at you with a cold countenance, like he was disgusted you would even ask that question.

“You want me to give you… hickeys? What are we, horny high schoolers? If you were anyone else, I’d have you fired, or worse.”

He closed his book and got up from his chair.

“…But you're my spouse, so I’ll let it slide this time.”

He walked by you and ushered you to follow him, making you smile in excitement. Once arriving in his ‘private chamber’, he immediately began to take off his clothes and put them into a neat pile, saying he didn’t wish to ruin them. He set them to the side along with his glasses and pushed you into the bed.

“If hickies are what you want, it’s what you’ll get.”

You shivered at his dominant gaze, both nervous and excited. When it comes to him, you never know when he’ll be rough or soft; it’s almost like he finds your suspense amusing. He wouldn’t leave you waiting for too long though as he suddenly grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head.

“But only when you prove you deserve them.”

(NSFW warning)

Scratches - Shuichi

Poor, poor Shuichi. He can’t help but get embarrassed over the littlest of things. No matter if it’s doing the laundry and seeing your clothes, sitting a little too close to you while watching a movie, or even just seeing you in something remotely tight. But there’s one thing that tops all of those, turning him into the brightest tomato there ever was; when he sees the scratch makes he leave on your back when you fuck him.

He doesn’t mean too, he really doesn’t. He hates when he hurts you. You just make him feel so good, so, so good, he can’t even think anymore. All he knows is he needs it deeper, needs it harder, enough to push him over the edge and have him in tears. His legs would wrap tightly around your waist, heels digging into the back of your thighs. He whines out, “it’s too good!” And “can’t think, I’m going to break!~”. His usual nervous side goes completely out the window when you have him seeing the fucking stars. And as soon as the bubble inside of him finally bursts, he cries out loud for the whole neighborhood to hear and rakes his nails down your back one final time. His cum splatters all over both of your chests as his body finally gives up and passes out.

When he finally wakes up tomorrow, remember to remind him of the red marks that lie etched in your skin by his hand. But try not to tease him too much or else he might just melt into a puddle of shame.

Hellooooooo! I’m sorry for not posting in so long. I’ve been busy with a lot of life stuff and haven’t found the motivation to write. I just managed to scrape together some last bits of inspiration to make this, I hope it will sefice :’)

Thank you all so much for your support, it means the world to me to be able to provide others with something that can make them feel happy, especially when they are going through a hard time. I love you all so so much, have a fantastic day/night!

[mother2monsters]

More of the Hobi scene

for those that are interested in more...still not proofread and still trash lol...not sure how to link to the other part or how to start to post for real... i think i'm going to post on ao3/wattpad.

He slowly lowers himself to his knees to prostrate himself at her feet. Lifting her right leg to center her foot on his chest right over his heart, he states, “from the first time I saw your smile, my life was over” massaging her ankle and gently bringing her foot closer to his face reverently as if every part of her was precious to him. He softly ran his lips up the side of her foot. “And from that point on, I belonged to you” placing a kiss in the center of her foot causing her to squirm, he looked into her eyes, “I want to worship you…” licking from the bottom of her foot to the tip of her big toe, “all day, I want to exist only to pleasure you” sucking her toes into the heat of his mouth is such a strange yet erotic sensation that she closes her eyes. Growling at her, she opens her eyes as he tells her to keep her eyes on him. As he takes his tongue and filthily licks between her toes. “I will worship the ground you walk on” as his lips move towards her ankle, kissing, biting and licking his way up her leg. “You have the capacity to ruin me” as he moves on to her other foot placing her right leg over his shoulder. “You have the capacity to redeem me” as he bites her heel softly and soothes it with a kiss, “you have the capacity to break me” he whispers into the arch of her foot, “do you understand yet?” He asks as he kisses up her leg sucking marks into her chocolate skin. “I smile a lot, to hide sometimes. You saw through me” roughly pulling her to the edge of the bed, mouth hovering over her core. Groaning, “I’m a weak man when it comes to you” grazing his nose up the crease of her thigh, “I tried to do right, get a handle on this crazed feeling, this obsession, if you will” as he grips her thighs painfully as if he could control the lust through sheer physical strength. “I tried to protect you from the darkness within me” tongue  slowly collecting the wetness leaking down the inside of her thighs, “because I knew that once I allowed myself to have you, to fully have you, to suck and lick all the juices out of this beautiful beautiful pussy, to bury my cock so deep in you my cum will never come out…to own you and control you, to finally feel you, to taste you” tongue grazing the tip of her arousal soaked clit, “that I’d never be sane again.  You are mine, he growls as he attaches his mouth to her dripping cunt and she swears he must have three tongues as she trashes around, pleasure too intense for her to withstand. Tightening the grip on her thighs, he stands up where she’s powerless to get away as he fucks his tongue into her pussy repeatedly all the while groaning at how good she tastes. Back arched, arms shaking as she tries to hold herself up, she screams she’s going to come but her doesn’t stop.  Drinking her cum like a man dying of thirst, trying to suck the rest out of her body. Her arms give out as he pulls her up and wraps his arms around her back so she doesn’t fall. She’s straddling his face in mid air, grabbing his hair not sure whether to push him away or pull him closer, he softly bites her clit. “You don’t deserve to touch me right now, touch your tits. Touch my hair again I’ll suck this pussy until you pass out” he growls as tears start running down her face.  “Fuck, Hobi” she screams as she cums again , dripping down his chin and the look in his eyes he looks crazed, “Hobi….fu….ho….plea….” as he stares in her eyes while she squirts all over his face, never breaking eye contact and never letting go. “Months I’ve had to wait for this pussy. Driven mad by my need for you…I just needed a little while to get these urges under control…. But then the love of my life, my reason for breathing, for surviving the service wants to leave me, not because she doesn’t love me. But because she thinks I don’t want her. Don’t find her attractive. Don’t rub myself raw at the thought of her.” 

It wouldn't let me post more...idk