#they could of easily just put these two things on the top right corner but instead they wanna fuck up my experience

[thee-problem-child]

TUMBLR IS GONNA PISS ME CLEAN TF OFF

why are we changing the layout and putting the most useless shit on the taskbar? first, tumblr live and now tumblr mart, please be so fucking fr. who’s coming up with these stupid layout decisions?!

@staff @support @changes @wip @humans

y’all are gonna end up like instagram and get deleted. keep playing with me.

capitalism got y’all brains running on pure shit

[daycourtofficial]

I’m Still Bejeweled

Summary: based on this ask - Azriel’s been busy lately with his work, unable to delegate. You’ve had enough and decide to try to get his attention by going out to Rita’s with Mor and Nesta.

You knew what you signed up for when you started seeing Azriel. You knew at times it would be difficult due to his trauma and his job - which is why it surprised you easy it is to love him.

The past few weeks he has been flooded with work. Azriel is very good at his job, but his biggest flaw is his inability to delegate. You know most of his work right now could easily be delegated to the spies he trains himself, however that doesn’t make it easier for him to actually pass the task off to someone else.

You’re tired of asking him to take a day off, to see him more than at night when he comes to bed. You want to spend time with him outside of your bed, so you and Nesta decided to do something about it.

You were getting dressed, Azriel’s attention never straying from the papers at his desk as you do so. You contemplate the merits of this plan as you put your hair up to show off your neck and shoulders.

You’re wearing a dress Azriel bought you with the intention of taking it off of you. Pitch black, thin straps holding it up on your shoulders, a hemline that barely covers your behind, a triangular cutout across the top to peak at your breasts.

It was a dress that drove him wild - and he wouldn’t even look at you. Putting on your earrings and necklace, you take one final look and head out. Azriel’s attention be damned - you looked hot and you were going to have fun with Nesta and Mor no matter what.

Azriel didn’t look up until you had walked out the door of your room, his shadows urging him to look the whole time you were in the room.

Pretty, pretty, pretty.

Their whispers resounded in his ears, practically begging him to look up. He had gotten used to it over the years he had known you - his shadows thought you were the prettiest thing in the world, constantly annoyed when they couldn’t just look at you all day.

He glanced up in time to see your backside walking out and the realization of what dress you were wearing made him stand up, causing his knees to hit the desk.

He slides out from under the desk, abandoning his report in search of you. He remembered you saying something about Mor - dinner? Dancing?

He can’t recall, but he’s only ever seen you wear that dress to Rita’s, using it to keep him by your side all night. “You’ll have to spend the whole night by my side keeping others males away from me,” you had told him once.

He bats the memory away as he follows your scent through the house, attempting to intercept you before you left. Surely you weren’t leaving dressed like that without him.

Unfortunately Cassian decided to turn the corner at the exact moment Azriel was, causing the two to collide.

“Whoa where’s the fire?” Cassian asks, mocking his brother’s hurried steps. Cassian peers behind himself, at where you had just passed him a moment ago, and chuckles. Azriels growls in response, his instincts dialing up the further away from him you get. Cassian shakes his head and laughs at his brother, thumping his hands on his shoulders as he moves to pass him. “Ah, women. Wonderful creatures.”

Cassian walks away as Azriel continues following your scent. He knows you’re playing some kind of game, teasing him like a cat with a mouse, he just can’t figure out what the game is. He thinks back to your most recent discussions, only to come up a bit blank. His feet move down the steps of the house depositing him to the streets of Velaris, where your scent has mixed with Mor and Nesta’s. He keeps following you, thinking about your last conversation. You had asked him to take the day off, he had declined, keeping focus on the task he was doing.

He stops dead in his tracks, a pedestrian running into him at the abruptness of his stop. Oh Gods, he thinks, I didn’t even look at her. That conversation was days ago, surely he’s spoken to you since? Showed you love and affection?

His mind comes up empty, the days passing by him in a blur of papers and strategizing. When was the last time he kissed you? Held you? Talked to you?

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the Sidra as he picks up his pace again. Azriel has figured out what game you’re playing - you want him to grovel.

For you? Anything. He’d crawl to you if it’s what it took.

The sounds of Rita’s flood your senses as you dance with Mor and Nesta. You know Azriel isn’t purposely ignoring you, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. You decide to let go, enjoy the night, the music, the dancing.

The three of you take the dance floor, getting lost in the sounds, letting go of the stress the week brought. You don’t really even register the male dancing with you until you open your eyes and meet a green gaze.

He smiles at you, reaching out to put his hands on your waist when a larger make intercepts you, pushing the offering male out of the way.

“I believe I have first dance with the lady,” he says to you. The other male throws his hands up in shock, but quickly leaves at seeing the face of the male who took you.

“What’s a beautiful creature like you doing here?”

You turn to look at him, his hungry gaze taking in every inch of your dress. You smirk, staring into the hazel eyes you adore. Azriel has relaxed a bit now that you’re in his arms, a place where he doesn’t have to worry about fighting off other males.

“I was hoping I’d find a male who wants to actually spend time with me. My boyfriend won’t stop working and hardly makes time for me these days.”

You pout a little at him as he comes closer, swaying with the music a little. “He sounds like a fool, letting you come here alone, not paying you any heed.”

You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol warming your stomach as it went down. “He certainly is a fool. I’m much more interesting than silly reports he has to write.”

He smiles as he looks to the floor. “Can I dance with you?”

You tip your glass up to your mouth, finishing off your drink. “After you buy me another drink.”

He leads you to the bar, ordering what you had just finished off. The bartender hands it to you, and you ask him, “what brings you here?”

He smiles down at you, his hand going around your waist, “I had a feeling I’d find my future wife here tonight.”

You look around the bar, pointing over to the corner where Nesta stands. “Is that her? She looks delightful.”

Azriel follows your finger as Nesta gives him a scowl for 1) his earlier treatment of you and 2) for interrupting girl’s night. He laughs, offering her a two finger salute. She offers one finger in response.

“I am not a strong enough male for her.”

“I don’t think such a male exists.”

You face each other, leaning against the bar.

“What does she think of your inattentive boyfriend?”

You peak over at Nesta, who has moved back to dancing on the floor with Mor. “she thinks he’s usually better than this.”

“Oh?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“She likes him a lot, just thinks his priorities weren’t in the right place for the past few weeks.”

He smiles, a hand caressing your waist. “So she likes the two of you together?”

You look into his face, meeting his gaze again. “Oh yeah. Just the other night she got drunk and went on and on to me about how much she liked us.”

His thumb starts grazing across your hip.

“She told me how she loves the way he looks at me.”

“And how does he look at you?”

You smile up at him, “supposedly like I’m the sun and the stars, like the lone light out on the open ocean.”

He smirks, “quite impressive to have him ensnared to you like that.”

Your eyes dance with the light of Rita’s, “I’m a great lay.”

He throws his head back and laughs, squeezing your hips. “Is that it? You seem like much more than that.”

Your hands connect with his hips, “and what do I seem like?”

His eyes have that look that only happens when he’s looking at you, the first of his undivided attention in so long causing you to buzz more than the alcohol could.

“Like what’s the point in doing things if you aren’t there? Like maybe life could be so much more than I ever imagined because of you. Like burdens aren’t so heavy if you’re holding my hand. Like I’ve never really taken a full breath before. You feel like a warm hearth and I’ve spent my entire life afraid of fire, but you taught me it can do more than burn.”

He reaches a hand out, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.

“At least, that’s what you seem like.”

Tears line your eyes at his words. The two of you have been together for years at this point, so his devotion is no secret. He was a man of few words, but he opened up to you more and more as time goes on. He whispers sweet words to you all the time, but never in such a public place.

He holds your face in his hands, so softly, as if he could shatter you.

“I would crawl home to you.”

You can’t take it anymore - this game, Rita’s, the hands on your hips. You surge forward, pulling his hips to you and your lips meet his. You pour everything into the kiss, pour everything into him. The neglect you’ve felt, the love you feel for him, how badly you want things to be okay.

The kiss starts off slow and hungry, his lips soft against your own. As it continues, it becomes more ravenous and harsh, and by the time you come up for air he’s winnowed the two of you home.

Your shared bedroom is dark and cold, but your body heat quickly warms the room. Azriel puts a hand on your jaw as he kisses down your neck, soft, delicate kisses.

“I’m sorry,” he says, a kiss between each word. “I neglected you.”

He pulls his head up to look at you. “Sometimes I’m still that little boy, unable to use his hands, feeling I need to prove myself to have a spot somewhere.”

He sighs, his grip tightening on you to remind himself that you’re here.

“Sometimes I just… feel like I have to keep proving myself to my family and that’s why I overwork myself.”

You touch his jaw, a movement he leans into. “You never have to prove yourself to me. And I promise - no one will find you unworthy if you delegate and take days off.”

He smiles into your hand. “And if they do - they’ll have to deal with me.”

He laughs fondly, “my attack dog girlfriend.”

You balk at his clear teasing. “I’ll have you know I’m quite scary and strong. In your absence these weeks I’ve been training with Cassian.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “and have you beaten Cassian in a fight?”

“No,” you sigh, “but once I was able to pants him, pushed him over and ran away.”

He throws his head back laughing, “well let’s hope any naysayers will be wearing pants for this altercation.”

You capture his laugh in a kiss, knowing that you’ve made progress with him. It will take time for him to learn how to delegate, but you feel confident he’ll get there.

[in-my-feels-probably]

slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?

Slytherin Boys as Dads

Request: slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?

Hi! So sorry for the wait, this one took me a while for some reason. I was kinda vague with these, but hopefully you like them. Thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: mentions of bad home lives, insecurity, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Theodore Nott:

deathly afraid of being anything like his own family or father. he’d be a little apprehensive about having kids in the first place, but he’d eventually be more open to the idea once you promised to be there every step of the way and take things slow. 

the proudest dad ever. the type of dad to clap and cheer once they use the bathroom on their own for the first time. he literally wouldn’t care (within reason) how good they’re doing at a sport or in school, he’s just proud that they’re putting in effort.

he’s got a short temper. i think he’d get a little snappy, and then immediately regret it once the tears started or they got angry and snapped back. he’d put on a brave face in the moment, but he’d for sure cry about it later to you.

he has such a way with words, and he’s so imaginative. they’d ask him kid shit that makes no sense, and he’s just deadpan answering them without hesitation. and it would be like that even when the kids were grown and moving out of the house. he just knows the right thing to say.

wouldn’t want a lot of kids. he’s too easily overwhelmed, and although he’s got the love to go around, he just can’t stomach the idea of being responsible for that many lives. one or two is enough for him, and he’d love them with all of his heart.

Every milestone your little girl met had Theo in shambles. No matter how big or small, he treated every single one of them like she had cured cancer or won an Olympic gold medal. When she started growing more independent and wanting to do things on her own, it wasn’t any different.

Theo came into your room after saying goodnight to your daughter, tears welling in his eyes. 

You stumbled out of bed to approach him, holding him steady by his shoulders when he wavered. “What happened? Are you alright, love?”

“She made her own bed,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “She didn’t want me to tuck her in. She said she wanted to try doing it on her own this time. And she did it so well.”

You could feel your heart warm, wrapping your arms around Theo’s shoulders. You gently rocked him back and forth, running your hand through his hair. He pulled back, quickly wiping under his eyes.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish smile on his face. “She’s just so smart.”

“Don’t be sorry, love. Just wait till she gets to Hogwarts. She’ll be top of her class, just like her Dad was.”

Your words sent him spiraling again, his cheeks paling. You chuckled, bringing your hand up to hook a finger under his chin, turning him to look at you. You spoke gently, giving him a warm smile.

“But that’s not for a long time. We’ve still got years with her before she does something substantial for us to fawn over her for. Let’s not worry about it yet.”

Theo groaned, shaking his head. “I’m always worried.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his middle. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the faint thump of his heart.

“Did you ever see this coming for us?” He mumbled, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Back at Hogwarts, I can remember wanting a life with you. But this isn’t what I was picturing. I used to not even want kids—Merlin, how could I have not wanted kids?”

You shrugged, closing your eyes and breathing him in. “I always knew you would be a good Dad. I pictured some sort of family with you.”

Before Theo could respond, your little girl came around the corner into your room, immediately running for Theo’s leg. She wrapped herself around him, playfully hanging from his pant leg.

“What are you doing out of bed, silly girl?” You asked, bending down to scoop her up.

“I have a question,” she babbled, absentmindedly reaching her hand up to squeeze your nose.

You laughed, passing her over to Theo. “Ask your Dad. I’m sure he’s got an answer.”

She wrapped her arm around Theo’s neck, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Theo looked down at her adoringly, patiently waiting for her to ask her question. 

“Why can’t I see my eyes? I can see your eyes and Mum’s eyes, but not mine. Why?”

You had to stifle a giggle, turning your face so your little girl wouldn’t see you laughing. But when you looked back up, Theo was just smiling down at her, like it was the most normal thing she had said to him all day. 

“I’ll tell you, and then it’s off to bed with you, darling,” he explained, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “You see with your eyes—through your eyes. That’s why you can’t normally see them themselves. But technically, you can see your eyes. Do you want me to show you, pretty girl?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding excitedly. Theo grinned, chuckling as he looked over at you. He nodded towards the bathroom where the mirror was, shifting your little girl on his hip. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said to you, before whisking your daughter off to the bathroom.

They giggled together all the way down the hall.

—

Lorenzo Berkshire:

the sweetest most dedicated man in the early stages. he would NEVER let you do more work than him. you’re not climbing up high, you’re not lifting something heavy, you’re not doing anything that keeps you on your feet. he’s BOLTING to beat you to it.

would give no fucks about gender. i think he’d absolutely adore having a little girl, but a boy is just as good. because he’d get to raise him up into a man the both of you are proud of.

gets overwhelmed easily for sure. would absolutely stress about not doing enough or upsetting the kids, and you’d have to remind him that he’s an incredible dad, and how he’s only human. making mistakes is gonna happen, there’s nothing you can do but keep going and try your best.

100% going all out for any sport/extracurricular they get involved in. he’s their number one fan.

probably the gentler parent. he’d try his best to be stern with them, but he just doesn’t have it in him to upset them. tears would literally break his heart, so you’d probably have to take on the more serious role.

You had two kids with Enzo, a girl and a boy. They adored their father—as they should. He was sweet and loving and hardly ever said no. But that was the problem…he hardly ever said no. 

And it got the best of him today.

The kids came bursting through the door, running into the kitchen with Enzo hot on their heels. He was carrying bags from the new toy store in Diagon Alley, a distressed look on his face as your children ran up to you to show you their new toys. You gave them a tight smile, faking enthusiasm.

“Very cool! How about we help Dad take them to your rooms, yeah? You need to eat before you play with them.”

“No,” your little boy whined, trying to dig in the bags Enzo was struggling to carry. “I wanna play now!”

Enzo let out a sigh, his voice strained. “Listen to your Mother—”

“We wanna play!” Your little girl screamed, her little cheeks flushing.

She turned around to root through the bags with her brother, when one ripped and the toys clambered to the floor. They scattered, and Enzo finally reached his limit. 

“That’s it!” He shouted, hoisting the bags up to set them on the countertop where they couldn’t reach. “That’s enough. You’re going to eat your dinner, and you’re never allowed to yell at your Mother again! Do you both hear me?”

Your kids stopped in their tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes. He might as well have slapped them—that was how they were looking up at him. Like he had hurt them worse than he ever had before. They were being dramatic, of course. You had scolded them far worse than that in their lives. But Enzo was never one to yell. He hardly ever raised the voice around the kids, it hurt him too much to do it. You looked up from their faces to Enzo’s.

And the look on his face was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry,” Enzo stuttered out, unable to say anything else.

You could tell he felt terrible. His eyes were glazed over, and his hands were shaking at his side. You quickly scooped the toys off the floor, shoving them back into their bags. You bent down to speak to your children, grabbing each of their hands.

“Alright…everyone breathe. You two, I’m going to take you to your rooms. I expect you to be ready for dinner in ten minutes. And if you behave—and you apologize to your Dad and I for not listening to what we asked you to do—we’ll let you open up a few toys and play with them later. Your Dad was very nice to get you all of these things, and you both need to act like it.”

Your little ones looked up at the both of you, batting their eyes. You could feel your anger slip away as they watched you, their little cute faces scrunching up. 

It wasn’t fair—they were too adorable to be mad at.

“We’re sorry, Mum,” your little girl said.

Your boy nodded. “Yeah, we’re sorry Dad. We didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know, my loves,” you smiled, squeezing their hands. “Neither did Dad. It’s alright…everyone is just a little tired. Thank you for saying you’re sorry. Keep that attitude up, and your Dad and I will be happy to play with you after dinner.”

Your children giggled and ran off to their rooms with bright smiles on their faces, like nothing had happened at all. 

Your husband, however, was steel reeling. As soon as they were out of the room, you turned to him. His face was full of regret, his eyes sad. You frowned, opening your arms.

“Come here, sweet boy,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You did so good. You’re okay.”

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he choked out into your shoulder, holding you tight.

You just shook your head, shushing him. “You had every right to. I love them to death, but they can be brats—and they know their Dad loves them too much to tell them no. You saw them, Enzo. They’ve already gotten over it. Don’t beat yourself up over this, love.”

Enzo sniffled into your shoulder. You held him tighter, gently rocking him back and forth as he leaned into you. It was quiet while you looked over his shoulder to the bags still on the counter, toys spilling out of the top of them.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re such a good Dad. They’re gonna be glued to you for weeks after they open all of those.”

“I’m sorry you had to take the lead. I should be better at this by now. I just can’t handle it when they look at me like that.”

You heard a clattering, and looked over to see your kids in the next room, politely sitting at the table. They were giggling to themselves, on their best exaggerated behavior so that they could earn back time with their toys. It was adorable, and it brought a smile to your face. You looked up to see Enzo smiling as well, despite his anxiousness.

“How do they look now?” You asked, reaching for his hand. “Because to me, it looks like they’re on their best behavior so they can play with their lovely toys that their even lovelier Dad got for them. It looks to me like they want to play with their Dad so bad, that they endured—Merlin forbid—washing their hands and setting the table just to do it.”

Enzo chuckled, squeezing your hand. “It does look like that, doesn’t it? Well, let’s not keep them waiting, darling. We have bags full of toys and two lovely children waiting for us.”

—

Mattheo Riddle:

girl dad girl dad girl dad

absolutely gonna have a meltdown raising little girls because it means he’s gotta start kicking some little shit’s ass for hurting one of his daughters. you’d seriously have to hold him back once they start showing interest in dating, because he’s not ready for them to be that grown up.

absolutely an affectionate parent. hugs and kisses before bed, he didn’t make the rules he just enforces them. he’d want his kids to feel like there was never a point in their life where they were too old for a cuddle.

deathly afraid of fucking them up. he’d rely on you in the early stages to help him along, but he’d really get the hang of it fast. later on in their lives he’d wonder what he was even so worried about.

would absolutely adore you after you give him kids. he would never whine about being stuck with diaper duty or homework because you already did so much giving him his girls. it’s only fair that he takes care of them—including you.

During Christmas break, your girls came home giggling. It took you days to get them to finally tell you what was going on, and you made them swear not to tell their Dad what happened. They had both met someone they liked over the term and had asked you to help them owl them.

“As a woman, I’m thrilled,” you explained, speaking in a hushed whisper in the kitchen. “And I want to hear all about it. But as your Mother, I’m begging you not to tell your Dad. Do you remember what First Year was like and you two came home talking about all the cute boys at school?”

Your eldest groaned in her chair, looking at her sister. “We’re silent till summer, got it?”

“Got it.”

—

You woke up the next morning to shouting coming from the kitchen. You rushed out of bed to find your two eldest sitting at the table, their heads in their hands. Mattheo was standing across from them, your youngest in his arms innocently looking up at him.

Your eldest looked up once you walked in. “Help. I’m begging you.”

“Mattheo,” you scolded, giving him a stern look. “They’re our girls—they’re smart, and they’re ready for this. You should be happy they came to one of us first.”

“But they’re my little girls,” he whined, shutting his mouth when your eldest piped in. 

“We’re not little, Dad. Not anymore.”

You watched his face fall, his chest tightening. You gently took your youngest from his arms, passing her to her sisters. You motioned to the living room, nodding your head. 

“Go sit down for a bit, girls. We’ll be right out, yeah?”

They nodded, filing out together. You could hear them whispering as they sat on the couch, giggling. You turned back to Mattheo, gently guiding him backwards until he fell into a seat. He looked up at you with a pout, heaving out a sigh. 

You smiled down at him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Do you remember when we met at Hogwarts? We were so lucky that I was smart enough for the both of us. Who knows what kind of trouble we could have gotten into if I let you lead.”

“We got into enough trouble,” he murmured, his tone sour.

You rolled your eyes, reaching down to grip his hands. You leaned forward, your knees knocking with his. 

“Listen to me. Our girls are smart—they’ve got their Mother’s intuition, thank Merlin for that. And one day, they’re gonna grow up. But that’s a far day from today. They’re not getting married, love. It’s just a crush. They want to send an owl.”

You squeezed his hands, nodding for him to turn his head to look out into the living room. He turned to see your girls all sitting on the couch together, the youngest in the eldest’s lap. Your older girls were making faces and sounds, trying to get the little one to laugh. She was looking up at her sisters with wide eyes and a bright smile, breathy chuckles pulled from her chest. You smiled, turning back to Mattheo. 

You hooked your finger under his jaw, turning him back to face you. “They’re still your little girls, Matty…they’ll always be your little girls. But we have to help them grow into women. And they need their Dad to help them do that.”

Mattheo sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.

“You’re my best girl, you know that?” He murmured into your stomach.

A warm feeling spread through your chest as you smiled. Your daughters interrupted you before you could speak, the middle one shielding hers and the youngest’s eyes. 

“Ew! Stop being gross, Dad!”

Mattheo chuckled, leaning back to look up at you. He glanced over at his daughters, absentmindedly reaching for one of your hands. He interlaced your fingers together, letting out a—this time, content—sigh.

“You’re right. It is going to be a far day.”

—

Regulus Black:

i feel like regulus would be a very chill parent.

i don’t think he particularly likes children, but he would love his own. he’d adore them when they were all little and cute.

he definitely would be really good at disciplining them. he never has to raise his voice or get physical, he just gives them a look and calmly explains to them what he expects, and they’re content to listen to him. it’s so different than how he was raised, and he would promise you that he’d do better with them than his parents did with him.

he’d be really afraid of hurting them like his parents did. you’d have to assure him every time he felt like he was doing a bad job with them.

when they’re older, they’re totally momma’s boys and girls. when they’re children they couldn’t get enough of him, but as they get older they’d start leaning towards you. he wouldn’t even mind the favoritism, because you’re his favorite too, of course his kids would be smart like their dad.

You and Regulus had a little boy and a little girl together, the boy a few years older than the girl. Sometimes your little boy would play a little rough with her, not understanding that he was too big to be getting that excited with her. 

You’d catch them in the yard, him chasing her around while she dawdled and squealed. You watched through the window, calling Regulus over to come watch. Regulus smiled as he came from your bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he peered out the window. But your little girl tripped after a while, and your boy was quick to tumble after her, laughing as he fell. He was still giggling when he sat back up, but she sat up with tears streaming down her face.

You quickly rushed out the back door, panic settling in your chest. “What did I tell you about playing rough with your sister? She’s too little, darling!”

You tried your best to remain calm, but you just couldn’t do it. Regulus, however, was as calm as ever. He followed you out the door, walking over to scoop up your daughter. He sat down in the grass with her, cradling her in his lap.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked her, gently shushing her. “You’re alright, it’s okay. Just breathe.”

While you were too busy calming yourself down, you failed to pick up on the shock on your little boy’s face. He was wide eyed, taking rapid breaths. Once your girl was calm, Regulus held his arm out for your boy.

“It’s alright. Everyone is fine. We just have to be careful, yeah? Can you remember that?”

Your boy nodded, and Regulus gave him a grateful smile, pulling him in for a hug. You watched in awe, finally pulling yourself together. You took a breath, sitting down in the grass next to your kids. Your little girl was quick to switch to your lap, wrapping her arms around your waist. You hugged her tight to you, smoothing your hand over her hair.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you said, reaching your free hand for your boy’s. “You just scared me. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Regulus nodded, giving you a smile before grinning down at his kids. “Lots of excitement this morning, huh? Barely nine in the morning and we’ve already given your poor mum a heart attack. I vote we spend the rest of the morning inside, yeah?”

Your kids nodded, standing up and running inside like nothing had happened. Regulus stood after, offering his hands to you before pulling you up and into his chest. You pressed your cheek into him as you hugged him, letting out a breath.

“You’re a good dad.”

Regulus smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re a good mum, darling. The best.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope you liked these! Thank you again for the request, I really enjoyed writing this :)

[leonw4nter]

Hold Me, Hold Me, I'm Your Bunny

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader AU

“It’s cold, rookie. Go put on a jacket,” Marvin tells Leon.

His superior isn’t wrong; the night had turned out to be a bit more chilly than Leon had anticipated, which prompted him not to bring a jacket or coat– not that this bothered him; he didn’t get cold easily and acted as a walking heater to anyone who wanted to feel a little warm and fuzzy.

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you,” he responds with a tired smile.

Ever the gentleman that he is, a gloved hand flies up to cover his mouth as he yawns, a small puff of steam billowing out of his mouth. As much as he loves his job, there’s no place he’d rather be than at home with his girl, cuddling and joining the rest of the world in dreamland but alas here he is– duty calls. Calloused fingers threaded through strands the color of wheat, slightly causing his usually neat hair to appear slightly fluffy. He turns his head, summer sky blues trained in the vast darkness to look out for any threat that he could quell. He does this for about an hour or two– or four… or five. He lost count, distracted by the biting cold that slowly started to settle in his bones. Pink settled in Leon’s cheeks and the tips of his ears, adding color like watercolor to a blank canvas; goosebumps rose on his arms and on the back of his neck, jaw clenching to keep his teeth from chattering. He did his best to look as if the cold wasn’t causing him some discomfort, only rubbing his hands together for warmth every now and then. 2:45 AM, his black sports watch reads. “She’s probably asleep by now,” he fondly thinks as the corners of his lips curl skyward. “At least she’s warm and cozy,” he wistfully adds, the feeling of his body craving sleep growing even stronger with each passing moment.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

7:35 AM, he finally gets to head home after a long and cold night; he feels odd, a lot more susceptible to getting cold. The patrol car’s air conditioning felt several degrees colder, even if neither he nor Marvin changed the temperature and he felt a lot tired. After shifts like that, he always felt tired but this kind of exhaustion is different; it’s like his body weighed a lot more and he felt a headache slowly crawl up on him. He blamed these odd sensations on not drinking enough water, gaze falling on the thermos his girlfriend bought him as a reminder to hydrate often. He takes the bottle and drinks from it, dampening his dry throat only for his throat to feel a lot weirder and the water making him feel slightly nauseous. Marvin picks up on Leon’s sudden paleness, a frown placed on his chapped lips.

“Rookie, you alright? You don’t look like your usual self right now,” Marvin observes. Stopping at a red light he takes the opportunity to look at Leon, the rookie leaning against the corner near the door and shivering, rubbing his hands together to  try and stay warm.

“Yeah. Just… a little cold… and tired,” Leon responds, flashing him a tiny smile, an attempt to downplay what he thinks is a fever going on. Regret on not bringing a coat or jacket sets in, knowing his error will cause his girl to worry for him on top of all the workload she already has.

“You sure, kid? You don’t look too good right now,” Marvin adds.

“Promise, L.T. It’s just been a long night,” Leon reassures.

They finally arrive at the station, Leon’s head spinning slightly since he got carsick from the overwhelming sensations in the car ride back to the precinct to gather his things before clocking out only to groan when he realizes he has to use a car to get back home as well. Grabbing his backpack, he waves the officers bye and heads out. Even with the sun’s rays not fully beaming down on the slowly waking world, he squints his eyes and closes them for a bit, finding it too bright. With a tired sigh and a silent prayer that he doesn’t collapse from exhaustion on the way home, he walks over to the side of the road and waits for a cab to come and pick him up whilst also fighting the urge to hunch over at the sidewalk and hurl.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

He finally reaches home, resisting the urge to doze off on the floor within minutes of unlocking the front door. With a groan, he hobbles over to the medicine cabinet and takes some Advil before heading up the stairs. He forces himself to take a quick shower to cool himself off before grabbing some plaid pajama bottoms and a worn out gray sweater from the police academy. He draws the curtains, slides into bed and huddles under the sheets before turning his body to face your side of the bed, inching his face nearer to your pillow and inhaling the scent of your coconut shampoo. Just before he decides to take a nap, he takes his phone and sends you a message saying that he’s home. Even with the curtains already drawn he still finds the day too bright for his delicate eyes so he pulls the duvet over his head, closing his eyes and eventually falling asleep.

You get home to a dark and silent apartment, the lack of Leon anywhere throwing you off. Closing the door, you drop your bag off at the couch before heading upstairs to the bedroom. “Honey?,” You call out. At first you don’t get a response but you do hear a low groan coming from the bedroom. You finally reach the door and push it open to be met with the faint warm glow of your bedside lamp and your boyfriend huddled nicely in the sheets. He shoots you a small grin but you know something is up with him with the way he doesn’t get up and practically lunge at you for a hug.

“Sick,” he quietly says, readjusting his position again and pats your spot beside him. You walk over to the side of the bed and place the back of your hand against his forehead to feel for his temperature. You leave his side for a few minutes, only to come back with a thermometer. After double checking his temperature, you finally confirm that he has a fever. “How’d you get sick?,” you ask him as you pat his fluffy hair. “Stood out in the cold from 10 PM to 7 AM, no jacket,” he sheepishly says. His response earns a small frown from you, going off into a lecture about how he should’ve brought something to keep him warm because the temperatures are a lot more extreme these days to which he nodded and mumbled an “mhm”. You place a small kiss on his forehead, telling him that you’ll make dinner for the both of you before getting in bed to cuddle with him. He nods and smiles, probably the brightest smile he could muster for today before turning over and dozing off again.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Dinner’s ready,” you softly say in a sing-song voice as you bring in rice porridge on a tray, along with a bowl of cut-up fruit, and a glass of water. You set the tray down before helping Leon sit up, propping the pillows up on his back so he’d be cozy. You drag a chair beside him, waiting for him to take the bowl and start eating but he doesn’t.

“Why aren’t you eating yet?,” you ask.

“Can you feed me? Please?,” he asks as he shoots you the most kicked puppy dog eyes ever. He takes his hands together in prayer position, mumbling please and saying something along the lines of letting the patient have complete rest.

“God, you’re so cringe,” you scoff but you still decide to grab the bowl and give him spoons full of the porridge. Your boyfriend can be a bit silly sometimes but it’s why you love him. He takes a large bite, a pleased hum coming from him as he swallows down the food. “Taste good?,” you ask which he responds to with a smile and a thumbs-up. While Leon’s still got some porridge in his mouth, you take the time to contact his superior about Leon’s sick leave for two to three days.

“Umm, hi. I’m Y/N, Leon’s girlfriend and I called because he’s going to be on sick leave for two to three days, he came down with a fever so I hope you’d understand,” you say to the phone.

Leon simply looks at you with a slight look of surprise in his eyes; he already mentally noted that he’d call up Marvin later on after his dinner but turns out his thoughtful girlfriend had beat him to it. Looking up from his bowl, he keeps his gaze on you as you converse with Marvin, his heart thumping in his chest whenever you smile. The call went on for a few minutes before it finally ended, walking back to Leon’s side only to see his bowl finished.

“Your boss sounded a little surprised to hear that you’ve got a girlfriend,” you shyly say with a giddy grin. Leon laughs softly, running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, I don’t talk about you a lot at work– not- not because I don’t love you or a-anything, no– it’s, well, you know–,” he stammers which causes you to smile sweetly with your eyes squinting slightly and he swears he just fell in love all over again.

“I don’t have um– l-lots of y’know– friends at the station– there’s only Marvin,” he finally finishes. He realizes he sounds a lot like his pre-girlfriend self from when he first decided to ask you out on a date, back when eye contact with you and a simple graze of your fingers got his system undergoing a factory reset (not that things have changed: he’s still having factory resets from when you touch him).

“Well, I should stop by at work when you get back and I dunno– maybe get you lunch and kiss you in front of everyone,” you joke as you take his hand and place a kiss.

“God I need to get well soon,” he responds. He looks a lot less miserable now but still very much feverish.

“Hey I meant that as a joke–,” you say.

“Nuh-uh,” he says as he waves his pointer finger in front of you. “You need to keep your word or else I’ll be sad.”

“Fine, fine but only because I love you,”

“I love you more.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Soon, it’s time for bed and you get into the sheets with him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the nook of his neck.

“Baby you’re going to get sick too if you’re too close to me,” he softly says as he pats your hair.

“That’s not so bad if you get to take care of me,” you softly respond with a smile before placing a tender kiss on his neck. He shifts his position so now he’s the smaller spoon and you get to hold him like a stuffed animal. A pleased sigh could be heard under his breath as one hand strokes his back and gives him a soft pat while the other strokes his hair. “It’s not so bad being sick,” he happily thinks to himself– not that you don’t take care of him, of course you do, but the experience of being taken care of when he’s unable to care for himself brings a comfortable feeling of assurance that you’ll be right by him when things get rough; you’ll be there for him as a ray of sunlight on a cloudy day, an umbrella underneath the pouring rain, and a warm drink on a chilly night.

With your care and constant reminder to take pills and drink water, he managed to get better after two days and is clear to get back to work (bringing along a coat with him, of course; you’d flip if he got sick due to being out in the cold again). The brightness of his eyes have returned and he’s back to being the golden retriever, greeting everyone a ‘good morning’ before settling his things down at his desk and working on papers that piled up while he was gone. Stretching his fingers and grabbing a pen from a cup in his desk he takes a sheet and starts signing and going through reports whilst sipping his coffee, very much in a good mood. Marvin decided to let him work on reports first and not start patrolling around since he just got back from a fever and deemed it best that he shouldn’t move around just yet. After working for several hours straight he finally finishes his workload, just needing to file these reports away– the only task left before Marvin hands him a new set. Stretching his lower back and rolling his shoulders, he grabs his coat and wallet to head out and grab lunch.

“Officer Kennedy please report to the front desk,” the intercom blares. With a slightly frustrated sigh, he mentally prepares himself that he might have to skip out on lunch as he heads to where he’s needed.

“Good noon, ma’am– Baby!” he happily exclaims. His entire face brightens up and he beams brightly, running over to you and pulling you in for a tight hug as he rocks you from side to side. After a bone-crushing hug, he pulls away but he keeps his hands on your waist.

“It’s so good to see you. What are you doing here?,” he asks. His blue eyes were like waters, his gaze pulling you under and deeper into the spell he cast on you.

“Lunch. Kept my promise from days ago just like you wanted.”

“So… I’ll finally get that kiss in front of others?”

“Maybe. If you want–”

“I do want it so… come here.” Leon says with a cocky smirk as he pulls you in for a tender kiss.

NOTE - If this is a little bad then I'm really sorry because this fic has been marinating in my docs for 2 weeks now and I kinda lost the idea mid-write so... yeah (I also finished this fic during math class because the question I got for an activity is so damn DIFFICULT-- KILLING MYSELF I HATE MATH I HATE THIS SHIT SO BAD FUCK MATH). Anyways, I'll try to write for RE4R!Leon soon-- I just love RE2R!Leon a lil tew much hihi ;) The title is taken from a lyric in a song called "Puppy Princess". I'll be busy in the next coming weeks so I won't be posting a lot. I'm going to try and make my fics look a lot more cute soon so ermm yeah that's it!! I hope you really liked it :) (also I ordered Leon photocards saur... the horrors are endless but I stay silly)

The dividers (lace and ribbon respectively) are from @plutism and @baefleurs , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 2)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: life on the run is not for the weak. you're reminded of this once you run into someone you haven't seen in a while

warnings: a lot of angst (there'll be fluff and smut soon i swear i just feel like writing angst right now lmao), HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries, this is so against canon its insane

word count: 2.2k

notes: ok so i changed my mind, miguel and the reader arent gonna make up just yet🤭. trust me when they do it'll be worth it lmao. im gonna need everyone to suspend their belief for the next chapters cause im kind of just making up the plot to beyond the spider-verse at this point for this silly little fic so just go with it

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

God, this was very quickly turning out to be a very bad decision. The movies made being on the run seem a lot easier than this. What they had failed to include was how easily it was to get ambushed by Spider-Society members while hopping between the dimensions looking for Miles. Your little group basically had to hop through a bunch of different dimensions within a week and look for him there, then leave before HQ managed to track you guys down. You’re not sure how much time has passed since you left. Maybe a few weeks. Maybe a few months. The passage of time was pretty weird when you were constantly hopping through the fabric of space and time. All you knew is that your eyes had naturally dulled out the neon orange light that shined from the portals you were constantly jumping through. Luckily, none of your team had been caught yet. There had been a few close calls, but only two of those led to severe injuries, one of them being Gwen, and the other time being you.

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

You and your team had been ambushed due to a malfunction with the portal opening. Each of you were put with your own variant to fight. Just to your luck, you were confronted by Jess. She looked awful to be honest. Stressed. She was probably put on finding you and your team while Miguel endlessly searched for Miles. This little wild goose chase had tired her out. Part of you felt bad. But that was very quickly overcome by the feeling of betrayal growing in your chest. You had a feeling she felt a similar way. “Please don’t make me do this. Just let me take you home,” she said weakly. Home. That’s right. That's basically what HQ had been to you before. You hadn’t been back to your Earth in five years, ever since Miguel caught you on the top of that building. Jessica was your first friend there. She had shown you the ropes to everything, been there for you during your lowest moments, and guided you to your highest ones. And now you had to repay her by sending her back to Miguel in a bloody pulp. You hated that this is how things had to go. But such was life for someone like you. “I have no home anymore,” you said at her monotonically before charging at her with your fists first. She’s quick to react, using one of her webs to swing away. It’s clear she doesn’t want to hurt you, each of her movements swift to defend herself, but never going on the offensive side. She could easily take you down if she wanted to. She had been doing this longer than you had and was more skilled than you too. She was going easy on you, desperately trying to show you she didn’t want to fight. But you didn’t care. You had put too much on the line to start to give up now.

The others had taken down their foes long before you had finished with Jess. You could see Gwen running up to you out of the corner of your eye, Ben tied up in a web behind her. You webbed her to the floor before she could get closer to the struggle you and Jess were currently in. You gave Gwen a quick, reassuring nod that she returned before running off to find the others. Once Gwen was out of sight, you quickly attached a web to Jess’ face, and pulled it down into your knee, knocking her glasses off her face and shattering on the floor. With her off her balance, you took the opportunity to try to knock her out. You slammed your fists into her face, one after the other, releasing all of the stress that had accumulated in your body over the past couple of months into her cheeks. You couldn’t see the damage you were doing, blinded by rage and betrayal and your fists blocking out her face. The only thing you could see was the blood splattering off of her face onto yours. You felt a voice in the back of your head begging you to stop. You desperately wanted to, but you had lost control of your body. Jess wasn’t the real person you wanted to hurt here, you already knew who that was. But she was the closest thing you could get to him right now. And if you were being honest with yourself, she wasn’t completely innocent to you either.

In her last desperate attempt to save herself, Jess shoved her forearm in the way of your balled up knuckles, grabbed a piece of shattered glass from her broken frames, and shoved it deep into your chest. Your reign of fury on her face suddenly stopped as pain quickly snapped through your body. You quickly fell to your knees, partially out of shock, and looked down to see the blood spilling out of your chest. As Jess dropped to her knees as well, you could finally get a gauge of the damage you’ve done. You couldn’t tell if the blood loss was making you see things, but her nose looked almost crooked, a dark cut slicing through the middle of it and blood pouring out of both nostrils. Both of her eyes were swollen, not entirely shut but on their way there. You looked down at your hands, the skin on your knuckles broken off and bleeding through the fabric of your suit, blending in with its natural red. They were trembling with a mixture of faded anger and new guilt. I never wanted to hurt her, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, as if it was going to make any difference. Maybe if you thought it hard enough, it would erase your actions. You suddenly flinched when you felt Jessica’s hand cupping your face. You looked up at her, mouth agape. Her soft thumb brushed your face as she stared lovingly at your face. So she did know. That made you feel a little less stupid when you broke down in front of her then and there. You just felt awful. Jess was your friend. Your best friend probably. And look at what you’ve done to her. You couldn’t understand how she managed to still be so soft with you, despite how much you’ve just mutilated her face. 

It was ever harder for you to understand how quickly she enveloped you as soon as she saw the tears begin to streak her face. You didn’t deserve this. You should run away. You need to run away. You’re currently bleeding out, and you’re just sitting here, sobbing into the crook of her neck. She’s probably just stalling for time and holding you here until help comes for her. But the longer you sat here the longer you realized…this was just her. It was only Jess here. No help was coming. Jess just wanted to hold you again one last time before letting you run away again. Once you pulled away from her, she wiped away your tears. “Don’t let me catch you,” she whispered into your ear. It was a reminder to you that while she was still holding onto her beliefs, that didn’t mean she ever stopped caring for you. She helped to push you up off of the ground, her hands now covered in your blood. You began to walk away out of  the dark alley to look for the others. Before leaving entirely, you turned around to look at Jess, still laying there. “I’ll find you once this is all over. So don’t you dare die on me, okay?” you shouted at her. She gave a simple nod in return, watching as you stumbled out of alley way. While you made the ultimate decision to let her live that day, you still had anger boiling up in your body. Somebody had to pay for all of this. All of this chaos that was about to unleash itself onto the multiverse. And you know exactly who did. And you didn’t intend to show him the same mercy you showed Jess. No. This was a job you intended to finish. 

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

Thankfully, your chest laceration healed up quicker than expected, allowing you and your teammates to get back on track. Images of your encounter with Jess replayed through your mind for the next couple of weeks. The only other person you told about the details of your brutalization of Jess was Peter B., knowing he would understand with all the hard decisions he’s had to make himself. Gwen and Hobie had also noticed that you were acting a little bit off, but you avoided the subject every time they would bring it up. 

Suddenly though, it was happening. The moment you and your team had anticipated for the past couple of weeks. You were awoken by the bright glow of three orange portals opening up, three Spider-Men in each. Your team sprang awake and began to make a run for it. It was no use though, as one by one, each member of your team was separated by a different group of variants, until it was just you, Gwen, and Peter running. While you were running, you felt a hand yank at the hair on the back of your head. You quickly turned around and found Ben Reilly as the culprit. You didn’t hesitate to jump into the air and kick his face, pushing him off of you and onto the floor. As the three of you kept running, your attention was suddenly caught by something else. “Keep your hands off her! That one’s mine!” you heard the familiar voice call out to Ben. A chill went down your spine, as the three of you stopped dead in your tracks. You did it. You finally managed to lure the bat out of his cave. Before you could turn around and find the face that belonged to that deep, alluring voice, you were caught off guard as you felt a body dive into your stomach at full speed, knocking all of the air out of you lungs. The pure force of the dive pushed you and the figure into the brick wall of an abandoned building, crashing into the structure. 

Vision and hearing fuzzy from the impact, you heard Gwen scream out your name and begin to start running to you, before her and Peter B. get swept up by their own variants to take care of. Your head throbs in pain as you look around the building, feeling a huge weight on your chest. You look down at the rest of your body to find what’s weighing you down so much. And it’s him. Miguel’s massive body laying on top of you, his head dug into your stomach and arms wrapped around your waist from the dive. You were partially in shock. First of all, from the fact that your first interaction with him in months is him attempting to kill you (although it’d be a lie to say you weren’t thinking similar things). Second, you were still reeling from the blow. And third, the most shocking of all, was that this was arousing you in some way. Despite how much anger you were feeling towards him right now, you still managed to get butterflies in your stomach from how much of him was on top of you right now. He basically enveloped all of the lower half of your body. 

Shame and anger filled your body fast as you tried to push him off of you, any attempts in vain though due to how massive he was. He helped you though when he began to stand up, allowing you to get yourself up and dive through his legs as an escape. Just as you made your attempt to run out of the hole in the wall, away from a fight you know you couldn’t win, Miguel’s giant hand wrapped around your forearm. He pulled your body back to face him and slammed his massive fist into your face. Blood spurted out of your nose purely from the impact and you were nearly knocked onto the floor. You grabbed your nose in reaction and looked up at him towering over you, unable to make out his expression from his mask. “You must’ve been thinking about this encounter for a while. Have you been thinking about me, Miggy?” you quipped at him. Usually you spoke playfully with him whenever you were in a good mood with him, but this time it was your one desperate attempt to push down any feelings that would get in the way of you doing what needed to be done. “Don’t feel so flattered cariño. Whatever happens here isn’t personal,” he said in that deep, flirty tone you always found so sexy. But right now all it did was piss you off even more. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better,” you said, dropping the slight smirk you had on your face. Taking action right away, you charged right at him, ready to do it right this time. You just wished he had his mask off so you could look him dead straight in his crimson eyes as you killed him.

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

NEXT CHAPTER

a/n: i had night shift by lucy dacus on loop while writing the fight with jessica....thats all ill say on the matter. also sorry miguel's barely in this chapter i need to set up plot and shit. ALSO I JUST WANNA PREFACE, MY FIC TAKES PLACE A COUPLE OF MONTHS AFTER ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SO JESS HAD ALREADY GIVEN BIRTH. I SWEAR Y/N DID NOT JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF A PREGNANT LADY💀💀💀

taglist: @sunfairyy @ladespedidas @jenniferdixon05207 @chalametet @khaleesihavilliard @sparklyphantom @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @trying-2bcool @deputy-videogamer @chatoicboy @cookielovesbook-akie @impettywhenyouare @unnamedgayperson @sin4tra @twentysomethingwereyote @cherrymanhuas @sagejin @isaidoop @hysteriaabsd @autismsupermusicalassassin @persimmoned-fig @dcsuperheros @amodernarrietty @konniebon @barbi-e7 @venus1224idkpleaze @almondlocust @babybella777 @urmomcomsiimiamour @96jnie @cryptidwlw69 @mirrorball-6 @whosace16 @wolfiepirate @gobblegluckgluckgod @keenzinemugstudent @bitchotine @leopandabearsblog @blumin8 @malynn @mearss @yu-rylee @myhomethesea @ashjbu @skcj24 @joanne-uwu @y2ksitgirl @inosukesweirdwife @a-simp-20 @shibble @euphoricfics @hwanunjin

[lazyjellyfish300]

Love Across Dimensions spicy part 2

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader s/o

Gif credits to @miguelo-hara

Part 1 , Long Distance NSFW blurb

Synopsis: You're from a different dimension than him. You didn't ask to fall in love with the protector of the multiverse, and it sure as hell isn't easy being in a long distance relationship with him. This whole thing is you two being needy ASF for each other. 😏🔥 Outline/headcanon ish format. Word count: 2.3k

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(PHONE SEX, MASTURBATING, CONSENSUAL VOYEURISM, FINGERING, P IN V, SPANKING, HICKEYS, DADDY KINK, USE OF SEX TOYS(VIBRATOR)LITTLE DEGRADATION,ORAL F RECEIVING, SLIGHT YANDERE IN ONE STATEMENT TOWARDS THE END, RELATIONSHIP DIFFICULTY.

---------

(red is you, black is him)

Are you finally gonna let me talk?

I don't know. Are you finally going to keep the promises you make to me? 

Stop it. You know when I get an alert that means I need to go, babe. I didn't break it because I wanted to. 

I'm just so sick of this, Miguel. You always feel like you have to save everything and everyone. You don't need to be the hero all the time. You have Jess, Peter, Ben..lots of people who are perfectly capable of handling things for you while you're gone. 

I have a job to do, it's as simple as that. 

And you also have someone right here who loves you and instead of us finally seeing each other after 3 months apart for my birthday, which, by the way was supposed to be an entire weekend but I compromised and canceled the Airbnb & settled for just seeing you for a couple hours and dinner at home and instead, I'm once again up all goddamn night waiting for you and worried about whether my boyfriend is going to actually be alive the next fucking day. 

Let me make it up to you. 

That's what you said last time. 

I mean it this time. 

Anyway it's 4 am and I need to be up in literally an hour. Goodnight. 

Baby...wait. 

*Click* 

You hang up and throw your phone on the edge of your bed and sink back under the covers, shuddering as you let your tears of frustration soak your pillowcase. 

You doze off for several moments and jolt awake when you hear that familiar zapping sound of an orange portal. 

Miguel walks through, eyes a fiery Vermillion fuming under a furrowed brow. "Don't hang up on me again." 

You're secretly floating on the inside but you sit up, crossing your arms, holding your ground. He's not going to get off so easily this time. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Not happy to see me?" His brow raises. 

"No." You scoff, but the corners of your mouth start to give you away. 

"Don't be like that..." Miguel croons, honey lacing his tone. He knew he could crack you easier than a chestnut. 

"I'm not in the..... mood." Your voice gets quiet at the last word and your chest heaves when his suit deactivates, leaving him bare in front of you. 

"Don't look away from me." He says quietly, taking your face in his hands, slipping under the covers with you, gasping at the feeling of his warm thigh touching your hip. 

"I have work this morning..." You start to protest. 

"Mmm? Well you can't work a full shift on only an hour of sleep." Miguel says, peppering your cheeks with kisses. 

His minty breath and slight musk coming off his skin is completely throwing you off guard. 

"I...mph...I started my period, today, actually...." Your face relaxes and you finally let out a soft moan of surrender as Miguel reclines you back, focusing on the outline of his broad shoulders rippling as he lays himself carefully on top of you. 

He pauses for a moment, then the corner of his mouth twitches. "Do you have a clean towel?" 

Needless to say, Miguel got his red wings that night. 

- Sometimes he keeps a pair of your panties, putting it in his luggage before he leaves. He used to just rip them off you with his talons. But, one time after you two had sex, you used the bathroom and walked back in on him pressing the lace thong to his nose.

 You smirked, "Why not just take it with you? And, you won't have to replace another pair."

He loved the idea and started doing it from then on. Saving his wallet and your sanity. 

-The "I've missed you" sex is something else. When he can only visit for a few hours it's desperate, rough fucking. The kind of sex where as he's tearing your clothes off, he's telling you,

"Don't have very long baby, sorry if I'm a little rough....." He nips your bottom lip with his teeth tweaking the buds of your breasts in his fingers.

"¿Te parece bien?" (Is that okay with you?)

Fuck yes it is. 

The kind where it feels like this fuck session is going to be his last, the way he's moaning, taking the Lord's name in vain over and over while simultaneously praising Him for the soft gift of your body underneath him. 

The kind where you're bent over the arm of your couch, taking his cock all at once, over, and over, a battering ram against your cervix. Your eyes are watering, begging for a time out, so he'll pause and relieve your pussy from behind with his tongue, the globes of your ass nearly suffocating his face as he buries himself in between them, starting with your clit and pussy at the bottom then moving on up to eating your ass, slipping a finger into the tight ring of muscle making you groan. 

Then, his pretty, glistening face will come back up, his chest pressing into your back with a hand around your throat for support, letting you have a taste of yourself off his lips. They're puffy, wet and sloppy as he glides his cock back into you, slipping into you much easier now. 

"Got you nice and wet this time, hmm cariño?" he lays a sharp smack on your ass in praise, the smacking sounds of skin and your high pitched moans piercing the room once more. 

- It's soft, sensual, passionate fucks when his visits are longer. The kind of sex with rounds. Start at 10 pm, end at 5 am kind.  The, "let's see how many surfaces in this hotel room we can christen with me fucking you on top of it" kind.

The kind of sex that has you zoned out your entire college lecture because the flashbacks just pop up, making you clench your thighs. The kind where he's balls deep in your soaked pussy, and it's still not close enough. The kind where you two swear the sweat from your bodies is making you melt into the other's skin. The kind where he says "I love you" with every thrust of his cock.

When he's fucking you like this he's worshipping your body, particularly focusing on your breasts and tummy at first because when he reaches your pussy, he'll be there for hours. He starts by taking your tits and pushing them up gently, holding their weight, admiring how pretty they look in his hands.

Some time later he'll sit you up in Lotus. The angle his cock is going into you in this position is so good, you're sighing and fighting to keep your eyes open but he'll take your chin in his fingers,  kiss you, and lean back a little, making sure you get a good view of his wet cock sliding in and out. Watching him fuck you is a requirement. 

"No, baby, abre los ojos....recuerdas? (Open your eyes, you remember?)

You nod dumbly. 

"Good fucking girl..." while he watches you with a smirk on his stupidly handsome face. 

-But there's nothing like a good finger fuck from him. 

"You're so beautiful..." he whispers while looking down at you, his pretty lips wrapping around your nipple again,  his large pad of his tongue doing laps around your areola as he eases two fingers into your pussy with a tight squeeze. You arch your back and press the back of your head into your mattress, eyes shut tight. He begins to move his fingers in an agonizing rhythm while looking at you with his head cocked to the side. 

"Does that feel good, baby?" He whispers. 

"Nghhh....." you whine a little bit, struggling to adjust to the girth of his thick fingers. 

Miguel eases his fingers a bit, curling them a little slower, pressing upwards softly, then brushing them gently down in a circular pattern against the walls of your pussy, coaxing the soul out of your body in a relaxed, steady pump. 

"That better...?" He asks gently. 

You nod. "Yes, baby...." 

Then he hits the sweet spot. 

"Oh.......baby.....right there..." 

"Right here, sweetheart?" 

Fuck, he hits it perfectly. 

"Yes baby......oh baby, please, please don't stop..." 

"Oh...." Miguel whispers, eyes melting as he keeps his fingers in your favorite spot.

"I won't..." he kissed your forehead.

"Am I making you feel good, sweet girl?" 

"Yes, Daddy you are..." 

"Fffuck...what was that, baby?" Miguel chuckles and smirks as he keeps finger fucking you.  

"Yes, Daddy...." Your eyes roll back, and your breathing speeds up. He's fucking you too good at this point.  

Miguel's cock is painfully hard now. 

"Hmmm....one more time for me, mami." 

"Yes, Daddy..." 

Miguel bites his lip, leaning even closer to you, adding his thumb to your clit and swirling it, making you whine even more. 

"Just for that, daddy's gonna make you cum."

-Hickeys only where he can see. You love looking at them when you're alone while he's gone. 

"One more, baby, just one more...." He teases playfully, locking his lips around your sore ass cheek, several red purplish marks already left behind. You whine a little and bury your head in the pillow, trying to take your mind off the aching suction. 

"Babyyyy...," you whine.

"Mmm, mmm, be patient, baby, almost done." He kneads the flesh of your ass with his hands. 

"M' sore...." you exhale, but starting to enjoy the way he's massaging your ass. 

He ignores you, focused on branding your ass with his spit. 

"M'hungryyy...." you whine, adding a dash of sweetness that you know he always gives in to. 

"I'll buy you lunch baby, just a few more minutes..." He mumbles, still occupied with your ass. 

You pout but let him have his way this time. 

-You two have a consensual agreement to voyeurism whenever you shower, or masturbate, he'll sometimes watch you via his surveillance screens at work. It's almost always a bad time for him though, being the workaholic he is. But once in a while he'll cave. 

Miguel grumbles and activates his mask, loading the coordinates in his watch when, out of the corner of his eye, he sees you undressing in your bathroom in the small, minimized window he keeps open for you in the bottom corner of the screen on his watch.

"Really, right now?" He whispers, exasperated. 

But then the water turns on and he sees you move the detachable shower head up and down the front of your body, starting with the top of your lead, then watering your tits.  The droplets kiss your body and soak it, leaving it shiny and wet. Miguel's getting hard now. 

You place a hand on the steamy glass door and open your legs, letting the stream hit you in that spot you love so much.

5 minutes is all I need. 

"Ben. Change of plans, need you on Earth-67. Goblin's at it again. I'll be right behind you."

"Wait, what..." 

Miguel doesn't answer as he's already briskly walking away for a quiet place to enjoy the show. 

-Phone sex always starts off a little awkward but it's always shamelessly filthy as you two lay in your separate locations, letting each other hear the other one fuck themselves. (red is you, black is him)

"How long have we been talking by now, anyway?" 

"No clue." 

.......

So, did I tell you Jazmin's engaged? I'm supposed to be a bridesmaid. I need to get my dress next month and I'm kind of nervous. 

.......

Hello?

....

Baaabe?

Hm? 

You distracted or what? 

I am technically working, you know. 

Hah. Of course you are. 

I thought you were only calling me for one reason. 

Which was?

Don't play dumb, cariño. 

No, really, what? 

Very funny. 

What? 

Just shut up and start moaning or something, idk.

Oh my God! 

What, phone sex is too much for you now? 

No, but now you just ruined the mood. 

Not my problem. 

That's too bad, I had a whole outfit planned and everything. 

Care to share what this 'outfit' looks like? 

No way. I'm still mad at you. 

You're not mad when I'm eating you out like the last supper. 

Stop! 

C'mon now baby...

Uh uh. 

*Exhales* Cariño...

Fuck. You...

Baby...

*Grumbles* 

 Mi amor, mi vida, mi alma....

*Speechless*

My goddess...

*Getting weak* 

My sexy little wife...

*Deep breath*

Mrs. O'Hara...

*quietly* Mrs. O'Hara....

Mmmmmm...does that excite you, hermosa?

yes baby....what are you thinking about right now?

I'm stroking my cock, wishing I was fucking that pretty pussy....

Miguellll.....

Shhhhh...baby.....not so loud...

Baby pleaseee...

Keep making those sounds for me baby. Tell me that I'm all yours. 

You're mine...

Keep going....

You're all mine baby. I don't want anyone else but you....

Ffuck, that's right baby. Are you touching yourself? 

Yes baby, I am... 

Good girl....God you're so fucking sexy. 

Oh....

Do you have your vibrator on? 

Yes baby I do...

Good...put it on that clit for me. 

Oh....oh my fucking God.... 

Yeah....like the way I'm spoiling your pussy, hmm? 

Yes Daddy, I love it..... I love it so much.....

Call me that again...

Daddy....

That's right baby...such a filthy girl. 

Yeah....

So fuckin naughty.. 

Yes Daddy I am... 

Fffuck.....you're all mine right baby? 

Yes Daddy...

You belong to me? 

Yes Daddy I'm all yours....

Fffuck that's right baby...you're all fucking mine. Gonna fucking kill anybody that takes you away from me..

I love you so fucking much....

I fucking love you baby...God you drive me so fuckin insane...

Miguel.....Baby, I wanna cum.... 

Cum for me princesa...wanna hear you whine while I make you cum all over my cock....

Oh God....

Tell me you're close baby? 

I'm close, baby....

God I wanna fucking ruin you...

Ruin me baby...

I'm gonna fuckin ruin you....pound you....fuck you so fucking hard....

Mmmmm yeah? 

Gonna fucking shove this cock down your pretty throat....let you swallow my cum...

Oh baby I want you so fucking bad...

How much baby?

So fucking much baby, you're all I think about...I cum just thinking about you....

Cum for me right now.

Ohhhhhhh....

*Panting* 

Baby....

Was that good for you baby? 

Yes baby....it was fucking amazing...

Good... because we're doing it again. 

-------

😇

[kunikuma]

hey, be more careful-- !

covering the edge of the table with his hand

relationship | gamer!kuni x gn!reader synopsis | Your boyfriend Kuni cares a lot about you, but words don’t come easily to him. Luckily, he shows his care through a different method. content | fluff cw | none a/n | i accidentally posted this mid edit and i yelled very loud. also the concept of covering the edges/corners of tables to prevent your s/o from bumpin’ their heads? sold, im so sold, give me a grumbly soft kuni.

“Oh, could you hand me the screwdriver again?”

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏

Your boyfriend sighs as he crawls over to you on the carpeted floor, rolling your desired tool near your thigh. “Why’d you hand it back to me if you were just going to ask for it again literally 3 minutes later?” He grunts, sliding back onto his chair behind you. 

Kunikuzushi had been keeping you company as you were upgrading your PC, idly spinning and swinging his feet. He wouldn’t say it, but he was craving your attention. Unfortunately, you were not able to give it at the moment.

“Well, it’s not like I’m trying to annoy you…” You trail off, barely paying attention as you tightened the screw to secure your GPU to the case. “…I just,” twist, twist, twist, “Hm… I just lost my train of thought.” You admitted with a laugh, humming under the desk. While he wasn’t getting much attention, Kuni had a great view of your kneeling position. And he knew how to serenely accept blessings.

‎‏‏‎ ‎Twist. Twist. Pause. Untwist.

‎ ‎He gave you an incredulous look.

“Are you seriously struggling to tighten a simple screw?” His jab fell on deaf ears as you pursed your lips.

“Righty tighty, lefty loosey.” He grumbles, blowing his bangs away from his eyes. Kunikuzushi was not really enjoying the lack of attention right now… with you so caught up with upgrading, he was forced to just watch. No one was forcing him though. “You’re so bad at this-”

“I’m not! I just overtightened a little. Lay off, bud. Stop backseat gaming.” You muttered, placing your hands on your knees to hoist yourself into a standing position. The sound of Kuni rising from his seat echoed behind you as he darts forward a little.

“Oof-” you gasped, your hand flying to the top of your head after you bumped your head on something… not as hard or as sharp as the end of your table. For a wooden table, that felt a little… squishy? …bony?

“...be more careful.” Your indigo-haired boyfriend murmurs, his hand gently resting on your head for a quick second before he settles back into his chair. When you turn, you notice he was rubbing the top of his right hand, as if giving it a small massage. A tiny bit of redness blooms on his right hand. He gives you a blank stare and you reciprocate with an owlish gaze.

“Was… was that your hand? Did I hit your hand?”

“…yeah?” He squints, the upward swing in his tone hinted at his bewilderment about why you were even confused.

You gasped dramatically, covering your mouth with your hand. “Kuni! That is so cute,” you immediately gush, watching him huff in his chair. He rolled his eyes as he rests his hands on his armrests. You politely refrain from commenting on his white-knuckled grip.

“It’s called being a good person-“

“Arguably, you are sometimes not one of those-“

“-and I sort of just… did it without really thinking about it.” He finishes, completely ignoring your insulting interjection. With stars in your eyes, you stared at him, your mouth agape. To the gamer in his chair, you looked like a fish out of water.

‘A mildly cute fish.’ He muses.

However, the tense silence between the two of you was getting to him as he wiggles in his seat. Your teasing stare edged him to elaborate even further. Eventually, his stubborn resolve crumbles. It was weakened when you were involved, anyways.

“I-I always put my hand on the edges of things if I think your clumsy ass is going to slam into it.” He grumbles, spinning his chair away from you.

Kunikuzushi absolutely did not need you to tease him about this. This was his little well-kept secret, at least until you actually bumped your head. He just wasn’t prepped for the conversation afterwards. The conversation that was happening right now.

You grinned as you stood from your spot on the floor, taking extra care this time to avoid bumping your head.

He felt your hands flop onto the shoulders of his chair and slowly slide onto his frame. Your head pops from the left side of him and he huffs and cranes his head to the right so you couldn’t see his flushed expression. His long bangs provided ample cover, preventing either of you from making eye contact.

You peck him on his cheek and the indigo-haired man hisses softly, languidly swatting at your hands but not pulling them off of him. Oh, this guy would never pull away from your touch. But to admit that would kill him.‎ ‎

“Thank you for always watching out for me, Kuni. That is very sweet of you.”

“Don’t mention it. Like actually don’t ever mention it again.”

From that day forward, you’d pay more attention to his delicate hand curling around the corners and edges of furniture. You’d never comment on it, but you’d flash him a coy, knowing grin and he’d bashfully roll his eyes in response.

[marthawrites]

Hey Martha, I have a request. I'll keep it short.

Aemond, mirror and "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

I LOVE this prompt! I hope it tickles your fancy!

After The Study Session

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Can be read as a one shot but reads best as part 2 to After The Closing Shift

Word count: 4k+

About: Through the chaos of college and work, yours and Aemond's friendship continues to shift in a new direction. Jason can't seem to accept he's lost you. You and Aemond take matters into your hands to make sure he knows it.

Includes: Plot with lots of porn featuring Aemond and reader being cheeky, mirror kink, vaginal fingering, Aemond being possessive, phone kink, exhibitionism, mild degradation, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! You all loved the phone so much in After The Closing Shift I had to bring it back bigger and better! This is filthy. I hope you enjoy it. Mwah!

-

The days following what happened after that closing shift were a blur. On top of studying for finals, you picked up a few extra shifts at the restaurant to help pay for your car’s repairs. It wasn’t even that old! But it seemed as soon as one thing started acting up, a hydra effect followed and three more things went wrong. A weird rattle, some obscene squeaking, and a smell that definitely wasn’t normal. And, as if to make matters worse, it turned out the tires were in need of replacement. Great. Just great! 

Aemond picked you up a couple more times from work, too. While things never escalated as quickly as the first time, innocence still flew out the window once inside the privacy of his black Mercedes. 

Things were different between you two, now. Not in any bad way. Just, different. After the stormy car sex he indeed took you back to his place for the night. Still heated and bold, he joined you and fucked you again against the shower wall. Hot water washed away the mess of sex in a haze of humidity. 

Aemond still lived at home, and the Targaryen estate was lavish enough that he had his own wing: bedroom, bathroom, and study. Helaena was off at college, and Aegon was off doing whatever he did during the middle of the night, so you two didn’t have to worry about untimely sibling interruption. 

As promised, he gave you one of his t-shirts to sleep in. Soft, worn, and cozy; you joined him in his bed and sleep had come quickly.

Over the span of the next two weeks that was, unknowingly, the last moment of peace.

-

Finals were right around the corner. You and Aemond had different majors, but electives granted some overlap. You both had the same ancient civilization class and second year sign language. His major was for library science with the goal of becoming either a library director or archivist – perhaps both, if he could swing it right. 

Aemond had a wicked sharp mind and he happily led study sessions for your shared classes in the university's library. You never knew him to be easily distracted. With how things were different between you now, however… On more than one occasion his hand slipped down the front of your bottoms, or bunched them down around your thighs, while he covered your mouth as he brought you to peak on his fingers. If both his hands were otherwise occupied, you buried your face in his neck to silence your pleasure. He always made sure to reserve tucked away tables.

It was incredibly distracting. 

Yet, still, an even larger distraction clouded your mind. Jason Lannister.

Despite your repeated assurance that you were done with Jason, he persisted. Relentlessly. The fact he overheard you riding Aemond to and through orgasm seemed to matter little. Later, when things finally calmed down from the passionate storm, curiosity made you check your calls: Jason, incoming, over three minutes. He heard everything. You wondered how much of the hushed dirty talk he overheard. ("Listen, okay, I deserved that after all the shit I've put you through," he had said during one of your later arguments.)

Anytime you were with your best friend you made sure to have your phone either on silent or vibrate. 

-

Tonight, vibrate mode.

You and Aemond finished a marathon study session in his wing and were praising all the God's that you were done. It was Friday night, you actually had the night off, and one of the obscure streaming apps just dropped a new anthology series in the same vein as Love Death + Robots. DoorDash dropped dinner off so you didn't even have to get dressed to go out. Nope. Tonight it was you, Aemond, a new show, your favorite food, and some much earned relaxation. 

Sometime during the second episode, Aemond, as he liked to do, used your lap as a pillow and you idly ran your fingers through his hair. You tucked your phone beneath the opposite thigh he rested on. It'd been relatively quiet all afternoon and evening, but now it buzzed with two missed calls. "Do you need to get that, bunny?" He asked, peering up at you from the cushion of your thighs.

"Uhm… no, probably not. It can go to voicemail," you answered with more nerves than you intended.

It was enough to pique Aemond's attention. He looked at you suspiciously. "Who is it?"

"It doesn't matter. Whoa! Look! I think this guy is gonna be offered on that stone slab we saw earlier. He's being led to it by those forest freaks!" You prayed distraction would work. This episode was extremely interesting and Aemond hardly blinked until your phone started going off.

He didn't buy it. "Is it still Jason?"

Half a dozen emotions played across your face all at once before you flinched, shrugged, and answered, "yes?"

Aemond's expression, somehow, remained neutral. Though, you saw restrained emotion in the fine muscles of his face; irritation. "Still? Please tell me you're not thinking about getting back with him."

"No! No no no no. I really meant it when I said I'm done. He just keeps trying, ya know? Ugh. No matter how many times I tell him to stop he keeps coming back!" You groaned, frustrated. "And are you kidding, Aems? I haven't been able to think about him or anyone else since the storm in your car…,” you said with pinkened cheeks. “And all the times in the library?” You admitted further, cheeks much more red.

Any trace of anger shifted into pure mischief. “Mm... I was hoping you’d say that.”

“I mean it,” you replied. As engrossed in the episode as you had been, it no longer held your attention while Aemond looked at you like that. “I feel like we’ve hardly got a break since the storm. With work, prepping for finals, homework… and that fucking essay! Agh I swear it’s gonna haunt my dreams for the next week.”

“Hm…,” he hummed, eye sly. “You did very well on it. If I were your professor I’d give you a perfect score. Maybe a couple extra points if you wore these leggings into class when you turned it in.” As he spoke he rolled onto his belly with one arm folded beneath him for support. The fingers of the other played across one of your thighs in annunciation. He eyed his motion appreciatively before turning his gaze back up to you. On the tv someone was definitely screaming, and there was definitely chanting with one of the creepiest film scores you’d heard. Yet, neither of you paid the climax of the episode any mind.

“Aemond…,” his name left your mouth in a whisper. “You can’t look at me like that and expect me to be normal about it.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be normal about it.”

Your belly flipped and flopped; anticipation and excitement made your breath shudder. This side of your best friend was straight up sinful. The more you two stole these moments away together, the more you wondered how you were able to live without them. And, even moreso, how you were able to stay with Jason when this was right here all along. Two years of on-again off-again happiness, turmoil, and every emotion between. It all seemed such a waste, now, knowing you could have spent those two years with Aemond; not only as best friends, but as his. “You’re such an asshole…,” you said a little too endearingly. 

He grinned. Playful.

Reaching, you touched over the left side of his face. He had such a lovely face. Angled, sharp, sleek. As much as he’d roll his eye anytime you mentioned it, he truly looked like a marble statue of ancient antiquity. You traced over the lower portion of his scar that marred from cheek to forehead, mindful to not bother the patch he wore to cover his damaged eye. A terrible childhood accident left it completely dead; colorless, like that of a blind man. Instead of removing it for a prosthetic, he kept it and covered it with an eyepatch. You’d seen him many times without it but it was habitual for him to keep it on. Because, unfortunately, even after all these years, it still made him self-conscious. 

He leaned into your touch. "Mm… tell me again how you can't think of anyone else." Turning his head he kissed the inside of your hand, eye an impish sliver of brilliant blue.

"No one else," you answered. "Only you."

"Such a good girl. My good, sweet girl."

At the same time, Aemond leaned up, and you leaned down, mouths colliding in a searing kiss. His lips were soft and warm, yet somehow yours were softer and warmer against his. He stood and urged you up, too, guiding you from the couch to his bed. There, he gently pushed you back onto it. The thread count was higher than anything you owned and it smelled a little like clean laundry and a little like him. With him atop you – your kiss growing heavier and needier by the second – and one of his hands roaming over you, your core ached.

How easily he made you need him.

"You should have told me Jason hasn't been leaving you alone," he said, squinting down at you with a small dark grin. One of his hands wrapped around both of your wrists as he held them above your head. "I could have made him stop by now." He leaned down to kiss you again, taking the time to nip at your bottom lip and kiss along your jaw; slowly, and with meaning.

"Can we stop talking about him?" Your question edged on a whimper when he bit at your neck and gently sucked the skin between his teeth. “I literally don’t give a shit about him and he just won’t stop calling and texting. I thought he might have caught on to the hint by now…” Beneath him, your thighs spilled open enough to accommodate his trim hips. Your knees pushed into his slender waist as you pulled him closer into you. Even his fucking sweats were softer than anything you owned – Targaryens and their insane money. His arousal strained against the material. Your own concealed excitement radiated between your thighs. It was impossible to tell who was hotter – him, or you – when he ground himself against your cunt through your leggings.

He groaned softly by your ear at the sensation, nipping your lobe. “Next time he calls, I’m answering it.” 

Heat flooded to your core as goosebumps erupted upon your entire body. In your mind you saw your call log. Incoming, Jason, three minutes. Aemond told you he hung up but he never did. Now, he meant to do it again. Deliberately. With the full intention of telling Jason Lannister to fuck off one more time. Young, and hot blooded, and full to the brim with testosterone, he’d make his point clear.

Aemond’s bunny. 

Releasing your wrists from his hold, he leaned up and you did too, watching as he moved across the room. He walked to where your phone lay on the floor and picked it up, putting it in his pocket. You both knew Jason would be calling again soon. Despite the breakup being his fault, he was having a hard time accepting it. Dumbass. A pretty, handsome, smooth-talking dumbass. If his heart was filled with the old-money gold of his family’s name, he’d be a proper himbo. But, alas, it definitely was not.

Wearing a new smirk, now, Aemond held his hand out to you. A wave of butterflies filled your belly as you stood from his bed and walked over to him. Immediately he discarded his shirt before pulling yours off, too. Stepping behind you, he unclasped your bra with a quick flick of his fingers and pushed you in the opposite direction; a line of clothing in your wake. The wall to the side of his closet was lined with mirrors, and that’s the direction he led you. An idea sprung to mind and a second wave of butterflies filled your belly. “Aems, what’re you…?”

“Shh…,” he interrupted, running one hand up your exposed belly, up between your bare breasts, until his fingers delicately wrapped around your neck. Your bodies pressed together and he made the softest, most delicious noise behind you as his rigid cock pressed against the small of your back. He held your phone in his free hand, and with a swipe of his thumb the camera clicked on. “A little secret, a little surprise… what do you think, bunny?” He asked low by your ear.

Through the mirror you watched him watch you; his single eye keen on the subtlety of your growing arousal. He loomed above you, the difference of your height on full display through the mirror’s face. Your neck fit so perfectly in his grasp. You nodded, breathless and dreamy, and as soon as you said “okay” you heard the quiet click of your camera's shutter.

“Good girl…,” he purred, taking photo after photo of differing angles and poses. “Let’s see what Lannister has to say about these, hm? God, we should have done this a long time ago.”

You ached with need. Never before had you taken photos like this with someone else. You had no idea it would be such a turn on. “I know, but we’ve been so busy,” you managed to croak out, the connection between your mouth and brain already beginning to shut off.

“I’m never too busy for you.” He slipped your phone back into his pocket. Using both hands, now, he traced down the slope of your sides until he met the band of your bottoms. He began tugging them down. The natural shimmy of your hips unintentionally (or perhaps wholly intentionally) ground your backside against his hardness. He groaned somewhere deep in his throat, chuckling, as he looked at you through the mirror. “Such a little tease.” He snapped a few more photos before working your underwear down. Once you were out of them he pocketed them greedily.

You reached around and grabbed his cock through his sweats, squeezing and working your hand over it. The choked sound he made had you giggling behind a bitten lip. “Aems, please. Fuck… you’re so hard. I need to have you inside me again.”

It took everything he had to push your hands away. “Not yet, baby girl. I wanna play with your pretty pussy for a little bit first. Make you all whiney and squirmy.”

As if you weren’t already whiney and squirmy enough.

He kicked your feet apart to spread your legs more. “Watch,” he said. Angling your bodies, he stood so you could both see his hand move between your thighs. He dragged his fingers up through your folds, testing your wetness, and rubbed the slick around your already swollen clit. “You’re so fucking wet already. I bet you could take three fingers right now without even working up to it.” Without wasting another moment he slipped one long slender digit into your body. You both gasped. He swirled it around and your pussy squelched with the movement. 

A blush crept into your cheeks at the realization of just how wet you were, and he laughed darkly, lowly, behind you. He added a second. All of those beautiful nerve endings along your walls sang with his touch. When he brushed against that roughened spongy spot inside of you, one of your hands flew to the mirror to brace yourself upon your arm. “Holy shit…! Right there, fuck! Please– don’t stop.”

He didn’t. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else,” he said as he stayed there, right there, fingering you until your pretty eyes were rolled up behind your eyelids. He feathered your clit with his thumb, his forearm flexing with the intensity of his motions. If he looked down he could see what he was doing. If he looked in the mirror he could see what he was doing. And same for you, too – all with his cock still pressed into your back. He had ruined you for anyone else. Ever since the storm in his car, no one else even drifted through your thoughts.

“Oh my god, yes…!” You tensed against him, muscles shaking with the exertion of your building orgasm. The combination of his soft, low, praising voice by your ear, and the unrelenting force of his wrist, had you cresting in the next instant. Bliss washed over you in a lovely wave of brilliance and warmth. You melted back into him, the tightened walls of your body easing and relaxing around his fingers. 

“Can you give me one more?” He asked, grinning at you when you turned your face to meet his.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, Aems, I can.”

He worked you up again. A little easier this time, however, so he wouldn’t completely overstimulate your senses before he could bury himself inside of you. You were so good and he only wanted to make you feel good. Amidst the finger fucking – you were grinding back against his hand, head tilted back and moaning so prettily – your phone began ringing its vibrating pattern. “I told you earlier I was gonna answer it and I meant it,” he crooned at you, showing you the screen with Jason’s name on it. He clicked the speakerphone on.

“Why the fuck would you send those to me? I’ve been trying to call you for–”

“ –and yet here you are, calling again. Seriously, Lannister, how many times does she have to tell you she’s done before you get it through your head?” Aemond asked, holding the phone in front of both of you so the speaker would catch any noise, large and small alike. “We’re a little busy. Tell him what you told me earlier, baby. He needs to hear it,” he said as he shoved a third finger into you.

You cried out, already nearly blissed out, gasping as he rammed you with the full force of three digits. “Oh my fucking god, yes, Aemond, yes yes yes,” you panted, totally and completely uncaring of how scandalous the scenario was. Despite the filth of it (or perhaps in spite of the filth), you loved it. “Fuck off, Jason. Stop calling me and leave me alone,” you said through a building orgasm. “Aemond’s ruined me for anyone else. Especially you. You cheating piece–,” before you could finish, climax ripped through your body for a second time and any words you were prepared to say were drowned by sounds of release. 

Between your peak, and Aemond’s rumbling praises, Jason ended the call. 

After catching your breath, you laughed. You couldn’t stop yourself. “Can’t believe that just happened!”

Aemond nuzzled into your neck and pulled you back to his bed where he fell atop it with you. “That should shut him up,” he said with way too much satisfaction; not at all regretting anything.

You looked up at him, bold and daring and mischievous. “I don’t think it will… I think he needs one more good solid reminder. To make sure he really knows he’s lost me.”

“What’re you thinking, bunny?”

You tugged his sweats down with zero hesitation. You tugged his briefs down with even less hesitation. His cock slapped up against his pelvis and you clenched around nothing at the sight of it, at the memory of riding him until you were silly with pleasure. You needed to feel him again. Needed to have his cum dripping from you again. He was the perfect size to stretch your body in the most delicious ways, and as much as you loved his fingers and mouth on you, you craved for more. “Let’s call him again. No speaker phone this time though. Let’s video call him,” your said with bright eyes; excited at the perversion of it.

“You naughty little thing,” Aemond growled down at you, his own eye mirroring yours. You were already facing the mirrored wall, and he flipped you onto your belly and propped your ass up. “Keep those knees under you and keep that ass up. Fuck, baby, you’re so sexy like this.” 

You gladly followed his instructions and wiggled your hips in anticipation. “C’mon Aemond, ruin me,” you teased, looking at him from over your shoulder. He didn’t need to be told twice. He lined up with your dripping cunt and sunk into you with enough force to push the air out of your lungs. 

Lean, sharp hips slammed against the soft flesh of your upturned asscheeks. “Taking me so well, baby girl. Fuck. Your pussy is so pretty stretched around me like this," he said, big hands spreading your ass apart so he could watch himself stroke in and out of you. Each time he pulled out, his cock glistened with your arousal. It sent his balls aching.

You, somehow, managed to call Jason and he actually answered. When he picked up you saw he was assumedly alone in his bedroom. "Hello? Oh Jesus Christ, you guys. Seriously?"

You had the back camera on and pointed at the mirror so Jason was able to see everything through the reflection. Your face was partially covered from the phone, and Aemond kept his attention downcast to where he thrust into you, the sound of skin on skin slapping through the phone's speakers. "Wanted you to see, Jason," you said through moans, pressing further against Aemond. "Didn't know if you believed the last call. I wanted you to see."

Behind you, Aemond picked up his pace and pressure, slamming into you with renewed vigor. "Just know how well I'm treating her now. And she's getting her pussy ate. Perhaps we'll call and show you that one of these times, too. I always knew you were worthless. Yet you still had the audacity to cheat on her. Fucking scumbag."

Still, Aemond fucked you harder. He wasn't holding back and neither were you. He pulled you up harshly, one arm wrapping around the front of your shoulders while the hand of the other gripped onto one of your hips, squeezing as he held you in place. The angle of the camera gave a new view; your bouncing tits almost as distracting as Aemond ramming in and out of you. There were entire categories on porn sites dedicated to stuff like this, and here Jason was getting it for free.

You didn't know or care about his feelings or reaction. All you cared about was how fucking good Aemond felt inside you.

"I get it. Piss off, both of you," Jason said before he hung up.

Your ex's words barely registered in your brain as Aemond chased his high, pushing you higher and higher all the while. A third orgasm rippled through you with an intensity that had you weightless. Perfectly numb, and light, and satisfied to your bones. He wasn't far behind; your flexing walls sent his cock twitching and unloading his spend against the deepest part of your body. As he pulled out, slowly and carefully and hesitantly, his cum dribbled from your cunt. 

"My perfect girl," he rumbled; emptied and sated. "Was that too much?" He asked as he leaned back on his bed with you, scooping you against him in post-climax bliss. 

You rested your head on the space below his shoulder, fingertips trailing languidly over the patch of hair at the center of his chest. You hummed. Musing. "No, I don't think so," you finally said. "I think it's exactly what he needed and deserved." Tilting your head, you kissed the underside of his jaw. "I'm all yours, Aems."

"All mine." 

Comfortable silence followed. You listened to the steady drum of his heart; fingertips tracing from the hair on his chest to the fine hair below his navel, and all back again. Looking up at him, you said, “I think we should start telling people we’re together.”

“Let’s. I don’t think it’ll be much of a surprise to everyone, bunny,” he said, shifting to look down at you, too. “I can’t wait to see Lannister’s face next time we see him.”

You tried your best to not giggle. “Think he’ll tell others about it?”

“I don't give a shit. Long as he and everyone else know you're mine."

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @bloodwyrmcaraxes @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @vhagar-burns-for-him @aemondsgirlfriend @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96

[nickfowlerrr]

fawn

pairing: dark!stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. kidnapping. noncon/dubcon. only bucky x reader smut. pet names. if i’m missing something important pls lmk!

words: 6.3k

notes: this is what i wrote when my power went out on christmas lmao. if this does well and people like it i’d definitely consider a part two with more stucky smut - just let me know if you guys like this and would read a continuation. 🖤thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

One click. No flame. Another click. Still nothing. Huffing, you readjust your hold of the lighter. The smell of Christmas already permeating the air, the aroma from the opened but still unlit candle bringing you the slightest bit of ease.

It was cold already and now with the heater out, it was biting. Regrettably your blankets were still sitting in your washer, and with the lack of power, they’d be there until it came back on and you could get them in the dryer.

You made to ignite the lighter again and it finally gave you a flame. Once you had your candle lit, you eased back down onto the couch. The sun was setting and the chill from outside was already seeping into your apartment. Pulling your knee highs back up, you sighed, taking in the darkness that would soon swallow you completely.

So much for finishing that stupid puzzle. You couldn’t see anything. The rattling of the balcony door pulled you out of the silence and had the pit that was already growing in your stomach grow deeper.

Voices from outside, coming from the hallway distracted you from the unpleasant shaking of the door. It was the wind, you knew that, but with each moment, it grew darker and darker and the unexpected noise was unsettling to say the least.

You were alone. And the solitude was welcome, mostly. That underlying, gnawing feeling of loneliness that was somehow always there, no matter how hard you tried to shake it, was starting to get the better of you. Momentarily. Always passing eventually. Or, more accurately, always shoved back down eventually.

The darker it got, you somehow found yourself settling further and further into it. As if it was welcoming you back. The silence, the flicker of the candle, the scent of pine and vanilla softly filling the room. This was okay. This was nice, even.

You felt yourself beginning to doze off, but the cold worked to keep you awake.

It wouldn’t be too long before they got it back on. An hour, tops. Then you could dry your blankets, maybe get a few more pieces of the puzzle put together before you slunk back into bed. A very merry christmas, indeed.

Sun was completely set now, no shadows coming in from the windows. No more watching the swaying of the trees outside. Just flickers of the candle flame dancing along the wall.

Then you heard it again. The rattling. If you had your tv on, or music playing, you were sure you wouldn’t have heard a thing. But in the silence, even a quiet disturbance was audible. Then there was that feeling again. That pit in your stomach. Something’s not right, it called.

Paranoia. That’s all it was.

Intuition, your mind argued.

It was Christmas night, most people were still gone for the holiday weekend, your building near desolate. Who would it be? When do crimes even happen here? It was ridiculous to worry. It’s the wind. Of course it’s the wind.

The creaking that sounded next, though. That wasn’t as easily explained. You froze, just listening. To ensure you heard what you thought you did. Was someone on the balcony? How would that even be possible? You waited. And waited. No more noise. But something was telling you not to let it go. You stayed seated, curled up into the corner of the couch, just staring at the door. You couldn’t see it clearly, the flame not strong enough to illuminate that far from its place on the coffee table. But you could see enough. Enough that as you watched, you suddenly saw the handle move, as if someone outside was opening it.

You always wondered how you’d react in situations like this. Flight or fight, what would you do?

Neither, apparently.

Because you didn’t move. You were like a deer in headlights.

Right, freeze response. You’d forgotten about that possibility. There was another, too, actually. What was that one called? You couldn’t remember.

F..it starts with an f…

The whole while you were trying to think, your eyes were trained on the door. You just watched. Watched as the figure cloaked in darkness let themselves into your apartment. Did they know you were here? Would they care? You weren’t even sure you were breathing as you stayed as still as possible. Maybe the darkness would conceal you. This stranger would take whatever they wanted, and you just prayed the lights would stay out until they were gone. Just be still. Be silent. Not that you could move or make a sound if you’d wanted to. It was like you were paralyzed by fear. The figure didn’t seem to notice you, not even looking in your direction.

The candle. The candle was lit. Was this person oblivious? It was a dead give away that someone was home. The intruder stayed quiet, didn’t seem interested in anything as he walked from the balcony door, across the living room to the front door.

Without thinking, your body was moving of its own accord. You rushed quietly behind them, into the hallway, still encompassed in the dark. You felt your way to your room as fast as you could without running into any walls or making sound.

Your front door opened, and you were confused now. Were they leaving? What was the point of breaking in in the first place?

“Took you long enough.”

The voice of a man, husky and gruff sounded from the front room.

“Shut up,” another man spoke, irritation clear in his voice. “Lock the door.”

Your brain stopped working for a moment. Two voices? Why were there two voices? Why were these men here? Do they know you’re here? What do you do now? Run? Hide? Where was your phone?

Dead. Right. It had died right before the power went out, you’d put it to charge but obviously that wasn’t happening at the moment.

A flash of light hit the hallway as the men walked past back into the living room. You didn’t want to move. Your room was so close, but you didn’t want to risk making a sound and bringing any attention to yourself. So you stayed frozen.

“How is breaking and entering into a crappy apartment supposed to be a christmas gift?” one of the men asked.

“It’s what’s in the apartament that’s the gift,”

“What’s in the apartament?”

“I should’ve worded that better,” the second man corrected. “Not what, but who.”

Three seconds behind. You were running on a delay now. Who?

You.

Three seconds.

Two sets of footsteps down the hallway.

One beam of light shining right at you.

Frozen. For a moment. No noise escaping you. The light too bright, blinding you as you winced. You still couldn’t see them. Not clearly. But they were tall. Bulked. You wouldn’t be able to get away from them if you tried. Funny how that thought came to you just a few seconds after you did.

Arms wrapped around your middle, and you were suddenly being pressed against one of the men as he held you, your back to him, keeping you tight against his chest. Still no sound leaving you. Just breathing, heavy breaths coming progressively quicker.

“Ah ah, princess,” he tutted in your ear as you stared wide-eyed into the darkness before you.

You fell asleep. That’s what happened. This was a dream. Just a bad dream, and you’d wake up any second now. That was the only explanation. Because this wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“Don’t cry, dove,” he soothed. “Not gonna hurt you, just wanted to introduce you to a pal of mine.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears as they began welling in your eyes. He was speaking as if you knew each other. Like he knew you, intimately. The tone of his voice, the apparent affection. It was decidedly unnerving.

Your name fell off his tongue as if he’d spoken it a million times before, sending a chill through you as a small whimper finally managed to escape you. The flashlight was now shining on the man you were made to face. Dark hair, stubble on his jaw, piercing blue eyes cutting straight through you. You’d consider him pretty if this was a meeting under different circumstances. There was a look of contemplation on his face as he considered you. His gaze flicked from you to the man still holding you, a question clear in his eyes. Question.. or maybe an accusation.

“This is Bucky,” the man introduced. “I think you two are gonna get along real well,” he sounded almost excited. There was a tense moment of silence after he spoke, your eyes seemed glued to Bucky, your lip wobbling as you stood stock still against the stranger behind you. A painful squeeze of his arms around your waist, and you could feel his strength in his movements. You were sure he could break a rib, crush you easily if he wanted to. His hand gave your waist a squeeze as if he was waiting for you to do something.

“You’re normally so polite, princess. Use your manners. Say hello,” he instructed harshly. Normally so polite. Do you know this man? You started racking your brain for suspects, obviously someone you knew, someone you’d met.. Then suddenly your cheek stung, and you were brought back to the situation. He just slapped you? You blinked at Bucky, seeing him again as you refocused on reality.

“Hello,” you uttered weakly, breathily. You barely heard yourself.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth slightly agape as if he wanted to say something. He didn’t. His eyes shifted back to his friend instead.

“This is your idea of a Christmas present?”

“I’m telling you, Buck, you’re gonna love her. She’s the sweetest thing, you’ll see,” he insisted, you could practically hear him smiling as he spoke of you like you weren’t even there. “She’s exactly what we’ve been looking for. She’s perfect.”

It was like your brain just couldn’t quite compute what you were hearing. You couldn’t make sense of it. All your thoughts were still trying to guess who this man holding you was. The maintenance man who came over last week for the leak? No, his voice was way deeper and he was stoutly. The guy at the grocery store who stopped you on your way to your car just to tell you how pretty he thought you were? He wasn’t nearly as built as this man was, you could feel his solid chest against your back, his biceps around you were muscular, nothing like the guy from the store. Was it the bookstore? The place you went to get your oil change? Hell, the drive thru worker from last night? You had no idea. You couldn’t place the voice anywhere.

“We’ll see about that,” Bucky groused. “Let her go, Steve, she’s not gonna run. Are you, sweetheart?” he directed at you.

Frozen. You opened your mouth ever so slightly to speak, but no words fell out. You blinked once. Twice. Finally you managed to shake your head, it was almost imperceptible, but he accepted it. Steve’s arms fell from around you as Bucky took a step closer. You didn’t move, didn’t even think to. Not even as the power kicking back on served as a distraction for half a second. You stayed where you were, only wincing again at the lights coming on. You could see him better now. He was dressed in all black, the darkness of his clothing and hair only made his eyes that much more striking.

“You got a pretty face,” he said appreciatively, his lip twitching upward slightly. You didn’t know why you couldn’t look away, your eyes locked on him.

There was a loud bang, you jumped at the crashing sound, turning to watch Steve as he proceeded to trash your living room. As your eyes landed on him, it took you a moment to put it together. Steven. So you did know him, albeit vaguely. Every Wednesday, without fail, you’d somehow arrive at the coffee shop you frequented at the same time he would. He’d always hold the door for you. You never really spoke, but he seemed so nice. Chivalrous.

What was he doing? What was happening? Why?

Your television hit the floor as you gaped at the sight.

“What?” you breathed out, confused.

“Sorry, gotta make it look like there was a struggle. Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing,” Steve assured you.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” you started babbling. “What’s- why are you - what do you want? Why are you here? What’s happening, I don’t - I”

Gloved hands were on your arms as you began sputtering, turning you to face Bucky once again. His hand found your cheek, cupping your face gently as he looked you in the eye.

“Nothing you need to worry about, doll. We don’t wanna hurt you. So you’re gonna be good and listen to every word we tell you, won’t you?”

You kept staring at him, bloodshot doe eyes meeting his sharp, icy blue ones. You didn’t respond, but you allowed him to nod your head for you as you maintained eye contact.

“Good girl,” he smirked. “We’re gonna let Steve do what he needs to do and you’re gonna show me where your room is,” he instructed, turning you to face the hallway.

You walked without thinking, just doing as he told you. You didn’t want to make matters worse.

Flipping the light on, you entered the room. Bucky followed close behind you and moved further in even as you stopped right past the door.

“You got any preferences for clothes?” he asked as he looked in your closet. “We have some stuff, but I’m not sure they’ll fit you,” he said, looking you up and down. “Yeah,” he continued, agreeing with himself, “doubt it.”

You were just standing there like an idiot as he rifled through your belongings. You don’t know how much time passed before he got your attention again. He whistled as he held up a piece of lingerie from your drawer. He turned and held it up in front of you.

“I can see it,” he simpered. “You buy this for someone special, doll? Or maybe someone special bought it for you?” he prodded.

You simply shook your head, looking down now trying to avoid his lecherous gaze. He didn’t force you to speak, and you got the feeling he liked the fact you didn’t. Liked that you were being so obedient for him already. He shoved the lingerie into the duffle bag he’d found in your closet which he had already filled with a bunch of random clothes.

“I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to swing back around here,” Steve said casually as he entered the room. “If there’s anything important you want to bring, I’d grab it now, princess,” he told you.

“Where am I going?” you asked cautiously.

“You’re coming with us. We have our place all set up and ready for you. You won’t have to worry about a thing,”

“Time’s ticking, sweetheart. You heard Stevie, you want to bring something specific, go get it.”

You couldn’t think. They were taking you somewhere. They were packing your things. Steven , Steve, said you were perfect, but perfect for what? You then started to fret over leaving something behind. What if you really never came back here, what if all your things were just gone once you left with them. What do you grab, what should you take with you? That was easier to focus on.

You walked slowly over to your bed and grabbed your throw blanket, it was a security blanket, really. You never slept well without it. You watched as Steve walked into your bathroom with his phone out, he was taking pictures of your toiletries and beauty items. He must have felt your eyes on him because he looked back at you, smiling when he met your gaze. “We’ll get you new stuff, you don’t have to worry about bringing any of this.”

“This is going a lot smoother than it normally does,” Bucky said skeptically as he watched you give nearly no reaction.

“I told you, Buck. She’s perfect,” Steve repeated, smirking now as he turned back to continue making note of your things. “That’s what happens when we’re patient and wait for the right one instead of just trying to make random girls work,” he said, seeming to try and point a finger at his partner.

“She’s not putting up even a little bit of a fight,” Bucky mused aloud as he approached you, ignoring Steve and eyeing you darkly. “Why is that, doll?” he asked.

A few more steps and he was directly in front of you, eyes bearing into your own.

“Oh,” he breathed, a wry smile creeping on his lips. “I see it now,” his hands were on your face, holding you as he stared deeply into your bleary eyes, “you’re terrified, aren’t you?”

A broken whimper broke past your lips as you began to tremble slightly. Things were catching up now. The gravity of your situation, the insanity and brazen entitlement of these men in your home, speaking of you like you weren’t able to hear them, talking about taking you with them, how ‘perfect’ you were, the realization of it all, everything compounding, slamming into one another, sending you reeling.

It felt like only fifteen seconds had passed since you watched the balcony door open. How did all of this happen so quickly? It was like you weren’t even there. Just watching everything from an outsider's perspective. Passive. You were so passive.

You just wanted them to leave. You didn’t want to fight them, what point was there in that. You didn’t want to try and run, again, what would be the point? It was clear you weren’t getting away from them and they weren’t planning on leaving you. The only thing you could do was...nothing. Just let them do as they wanted, and try not to make things worse for yourself. Don’t provoke them or put yourself in more danger. They said they didn’t want to hurt you. All you had to do was listen. Just listen, you repeated over and over in your head.

The pressure of Bucky’s hands on your face increased slightly, the material of his gloves rough against your skin as he wiped at the stray tears that had started to fall again. All you could do was nod. He was right. You weren’t doing a thing to stop them because you were scared. You were utterly terrified.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. You’re doing perfect, listening real well, doing what we tell you,” he praised. “You know, Stevie, this just might be the best gift you’ve ever given me,” he called to his partner while he continued staring, his eyes taking in every detail of your face, lingering on your pouty lips.

You were a present. Not a person. At least not to them.

“Let’s see just how obedient you can be,” he said, his voice lower, darker. He was even closer now, you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he was nearly right up against you. Your chest was heaving from your stuttering breaths. Dread setting in the pit of your stomach as his touch left your cheeks and instead drifted down your body.

“Not here, Bucky.” Steve’s harsh words had Bucky’s hands halting in their exploration.

He sucked his teeth before taking a step back and turning to face Steve.

“You can wait another two hours,” Steve griped before turning his attention to you, softening slightly. “That’s all you want to bring, princess?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

The question left your mouth before you even registered it as a thought. You saw Steve’s jaw clench as he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at your question. If you had to worry about stoking someone’s ire, it was clearly Steve’s. He worked to calm himself, taking a breath before he responded to you.

“I guess we haven’t really explained what’s happening here, have we?

See, Buck and I, we’ve been looking for a pretty little dove like you for a long time, now. But they were just never right. We gave up for a bit, decided the right girl would come along when she was ready. And then I walked right into you one morning. You remember it, don’t you? You were walking into the coffee shop as I was coming out. I wasn’t really paying attention, it was completely my fault, but you were so sweet.. Caring, understanding. Those are rare traits nowadays, ya know. I’m not sure exactly what it was about you that struck me, but I just knew..

I knew you were the one for us. Kept an eye on you for a while, I wanted to learn more about you, get to know you better. And turns out you’re as sweet as I thought you were. Lonely as us, too. We’re the perfect fit. I could see just how much you needed someone.

The number of times I’ve had to watch you cry all alone from the outside looking in, it was like torture,” he confessed as his hands were suddenly on your face, wiping at your tears. You hadn’t even registered him getting closer, didn’t notice him brushing past Bucky to take the spot he had been in, in front of you. “But you won’t ever have to do that again. You won’t be alone anymore, not with us. It’s a win-win situation, princess. You get to get out of this shithole, leave all the stress behind you, no more responsibilities - aside from taking care of us. But we’ll be taking care of you, too. I know this might seem scary, sudden, but it’s for the best, I promise. For all three of us,” he finished, looking back at Bucky who’s eyes were still set on you.

When Steve finally backed away from you, granting you some space, Bucky was quick to return to your side. He was intent on you, not wanting you to get very far from him, though you were hardly moving.

After Steve trashed the rest of your apartment, Bucky had the thrown together bag of clothes slung on his shoulder, ushering you in front of him to trail behind Steve.

When you’d made it downstairs to the parking lot of your complex, you were led to a sleek, blacked out fully tinted SUV. Steve went to the driver’s side and Bucky opened the back door for you. He helped you in and then climbed in right next to you. You heard Steve scoff as he looked back at him, but he didn’t say anything as he started the car and drove out of the lot.

You stared ahead blankly as the car made its way through and out of town, you were aware of the men talking back and forth, but the conversation didn’t include you - at least not that you heard. You were sure Steve would make it clear if he was expecting an answer from you, the way he had earlier, so you let yourself zone out.

What had you done wrong?

How did you find yourself in this position? It was Christmas. You were alone and vulnerable. How long had Steve been watching you? How long had you been a target and you hadn’t even realized?

Fuck, you were so stupid. Stupid, pathetic, and pitiful.

You didn’t even try to get out of this, just went along with them.

The feeling of a gloved hand settling on your leg brought you back to reality for the moment, looking down just as Bucky squeezed your thigh.

“If I had let me in on your plans, I could’ve gotten some stuff ready for her,” he spoke to Steve as his hand idly toyed with the top of your knee highs.

“What we have already will be fine for now. Besides, I didn’t wanna spoil the surprise.”

There was a beat as Bucky fiddled with your stockings, contemplating as he brushed his gloved fingers over your exposed skin.

“What’s our ETA?” he asked Steve.

“Another hour.”

He nodded, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “More than enough time,” Bucky responds smoothly, pulling you onto his lap just the same as you yipped in surprise.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters.

“Don’t be jealous Stevie, you’ll get your turn, too. She’s my present isn’t she? You got your gift earlier, why can’t I have mine now?”

“She’s ours,” he nearly growled in response.

“Guess that means you still owe me one, then,” he taunted back while his hands found your ass, groping you through the material of your shorts while you stayed as still as possible on his lap, though the lull of the car driving down the interstate didn’t make that an easy task. You eventually grabbed onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright as Steve passed yet another car, the speed threatening to send you into the door if not falling forward on top of Bucky.

Your unintentional wiggling had Bucky groaning and you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

“You make a mess back there, you’re cleaning it,” Steve warned.

All you could focus on, despite your every attempt not to, was the feeling of Bucky’s hands on you as you were forced onto his lap. Grabbing at your ass, running under your shirt, up and down your back, along your waist, gripping your wide hips as he began rocking you atop him. His bulge was rubbing against you with every move and though you tried to fight it, a stirring.. a tingling sensation in your core began to overshadow your fear and disgust.

Your hands were holding tightly onto him, one hand on firm muscle, the other seeming to cling to something more solid. It was an arm, but not one made from flesh and bone.

Bucky’s hands still on your hips suddenly forced you to sit fully down on him. You could feel his strength in the movement, you didn’t consider for a second trying to stop his hands as they slid down into the back of your bottoms, knowing it wouldn’t stop him. He grabbed your ass, his eyes hungry as he stared at you. He swiftly moved his hands up your back and pulled the hem of your top up and off of you in a flash.

You felt exposed and more scared than you’d been earlier, but deep down you had to have known this was coming. Of course it was.

He grabbed your breasts through your thin bra, kneading them in his still gloved hands. He took a second to finally rid himself of them and when you saw the metal of his left hand, you couldn’t help the audible breath you took as he brought it directly to your throat, squeezing enough to have you shiver but not to interfere with your breathing. He smirked as you subtly sank into him further with the show of dominance before he let his hand wander down and around your back to unclasp your bra.

Pulling the bra off of you easily, he pushed you back so you were up against the passenger’s seat as he ogled your chest. His hands wandered from your throat down to the waistband of your shorts, squeezing you, tickling you, playing with your breasts and teasing your nipples before he pulled you closer again, his head falling to your chest as he took one into his mouth. You worked hard to stifle the moan that threatened to escape when he suckled at you. His touch was all consuming and overpowering. The warmth of his mouth on your breasts, the way he held you to him, keeping your hips rocking against his as he groaned against your skin.

You were completely defenseless and had no plans of trying to fight back, no plans at all to try and stop it from happening. What good would it do? You’d let him have his way, do whatever it was he wanted to do and just get it over with.

He pulled off of you just as Steve sped around another car, you fell forward into Bucky, not bothering to right yourself, just letting your body rest against his, your head on his chest now. His hands found the waistband of your bottoms again and he worked to get them down your thick legs, not an easy task in the position he had you in. He barely managed to get them past your ass before he unceremoniously lifted you nearly over his shoulder and over the seat so you were leaning over him as he tugged them the rest of the way down. You were only then vaguely aware of your lack of shoes, briefly you wondered how you didn’t notice that when you first left your apartment. Your thong sliding down your calves, over the knee highs he left on you, had you refocusing on what was currently going on. You heard his zipper and felt him messing with his pants and it was only another second or two before you were pulled right back down onto Bucky’s lap, a mix between a gasp and a moan escaping you and a hiss escaping Bucky as his firm, hard cock pulsed against your bare pussy.

“Sit,” Bucky ordered firmly. You inched down only a bit more, earning a slap to your ass before he spoke again, “Sit. Down,” he growled.

You obeyed without another word, sitting fully on his exposed lap, the zipper of his pants rubbing against your skin as you did.

“Good puppy,” he praised darkly as he grabbed your face, pulling you to him and forcing eye contact. “I don’t like repeating myself, sweetheart. We’ve only just met, so I’ll give you a free pass this time. And I know you won’t do it again, will you, doll?”

“No,” you ekked out breathily, feeling the tears renew in your eyes. You shuddered as he kissed your temple before reaching between you and grabbing his cock, pumping himself once before he had you lift up for him, placing himself at your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck, the only thing keeping you steady as the shame of your arousal consumed you.

“Pussy’s all nice and wet for me, already, huh?” he teased.

You had nowhere else to go so buried your face in his neck, trying desperately to hide from the humiliation. His hands were on your hips and he didn’t give you any warning before he pulled you down, fully seating you on his dick, the air rushed from your lungs at the shock and stretch you were entirely unprepared for. He groaned deeply, a heady, “fuck”, tumbling from his lips as he held you there a second while you whimpered and cried.

“Son of a bitch, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled before gripping your hips tighter, surely leaving bruises. You didn’t do anything, couldn’t move if you’d wanted to. You were gripping onto him like your life depended on it and somewhere deep down you were scared it just might.

Ten seconds passed and he just kept you there, sitting pretty on his cock while you cried into his neck. His grip lightened on your hips and he moved one hand to rub your back, clearly his attempt to ease you.

“Relax,” he soothed, “just take it. Take my cock like the good puppy I know you are,” he said, punctuating his sentence by thrusting up into you, making you cry out in response.

He was too thick. It hurt. Sure there was an underlying pleasure that was making its way to the surface the longer he stayed still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, but it was still uncomfortable. And being naked and exposed to the chill air in the car only made you more frigid. Even the heat coming off of Bucky wasn’t helping. You were covered in goosebumps and you had tear streaks still running down your face. You were a mess, a whimpering pathetic mess. Nothing more than a frightened little puppy, just like he knew you’d be.

A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his thumb was suddenly on your clit, rubbing in tight circles as you moaned weakly before laxing against him even further, inadvertently taking more of his cock inside you.

“Just like that,” he praised, giving you another few seconds to adjust to him. “Want you to bounce on my cock, you think you can handle that, doll?”

You shook your head, still hiding your face in his neck, not wanting to see the way he was looking at you.

He laughed darkly at your response before reframing your hips with his hands, “That’s alright, puppy. We’ll try again when your little pussy’s used to me. It’ll take some training, but you’ll get it eventually. I don’t have a problem doing it myself right now,”

All you could do was cry as he held your hips down on him, fucking up into you relentlessly, the material of his pants scratching at your delicate skin and his hold on you leaving marks you were sure you’d see in the morning. Your tits were bouncing as you bit your lip, groaning at the sensations shooting through you while Bucky cursed and growled, moans leaving him with every thrust into you.

“Please,” you cried, “please, please, please,”

“Fucking hell, Bucky, don’t break her before we even get her home,” Steve interjected sharply between your cries.

“You can’t feel the way she’s gripping me, she fucking loves it,” he panted, slapping your ass as he continued fucking you.

“Hurts,” you mewled desperately, hoping he’d take pity on you and at the very least slow down.

“Poor pup,” he patronized, keeping his pace as you clung to him.

“Buck,” Steve snarled from the front of the car.

Bucky grunted but soon slowed his movements, and began moving you up and down on his cock by your hips, lifting you and having you sit right back down, the new motion stimulating your clit with every tilt of your hips.

You walls clenched down on him as he slapped your ass again, groaning and growling as he kept you riding him.

His movements were slower, but he had you taking him deeper than before. “Fuck yes,” he moaned lowly, throwing his head back as he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut as he groaned. His grip tightened on your hips as he felt you getting closer.

“You wanna come, sweetheart?” he teased, only getting a whine from you in response. He chuckled again, “You don’t have to deny it, doll. I know it feels good for you, too. I can feel your cunt tryin’ milk my cock. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you exactly what you need, baby,”

His thumb found your clit again, playing you expertly as you writhed on his cock, unbidden moans falling from you as you felt a coil tightening in your lower belly.

“I’m gonna give it to you, you’re gonna take fuckin all of it. But you’re gonna come on my cock first,”

That coil wound tighter, and tighter, and tighter with each swipe of his thumb in tandem with his thrusts until you couldn’t hold it or fight it any longer and it finally snapped. A white hot heat running through your body as you cried out, holding onto Bucky as you came undone. The feeling of his warm cum hitting your walls as he finished inside of you registered too late, not that you could’ve done anything to stop him anyway. The post orgasmic haze quickly faded with the reminder of reality.

You slumped into him again as you began sobbing. His arms held your naked body against his fully clothed one as he relaxed, leaning back into the seat while a hand rubbed your back and you wore yourself out with the tears that fell.

“No tears, puppy. You did such a good job,” he cooed, only making you cry harder despite how exhausted you were.

He was right, you did a good job for him. Didn’t fight, didn’t try to stop it. Just let him have you, however he wanted. You were a coward. Terrified of being hurt, you let him hurt you. You could hate yourself for your lack of self preservation, but when you really thought about it, this was your self preservation. They could easily hurt you worse. They could kill you if they wanted and you’d never stand a chance. You didn’t want to live like this, but you didn’t want to die, either. You weren’t sure yet, but the latter certainly seemed like the worse option.

Just be good and don’t give them a reason to hurt you. That’s all you had to do. That’s all you could do.

Bucky kept you on him, stuffed full of his cock and cum while he held you against him.

You whimpered when you felt his cock get hard again inside of you but he didn’t move you, just kept you sitting on him - keeping him warm.

“We’re not that far,” Steve spoke, waking you as your eyes threatened to close while you laid against Bucky, thoroughly exhausted.

“Good, she’s about to pass out on me already,”

“‘S’alright, dove,” Steve said to you, “You can sleep til we get home and we’ll bring you inside. You’re gonna need your rest. Our night’s just getting started. We’ve got a lot of celebrating to do now that you’re finally home.”

You couldn’t help it as your tears fell once again, and Bucky rubbed your back.

“You’re gonna love it, doll,” he reassured you. “And if you thought that was good you have no idea how much better it is when it’s all three of us. We’ll have you seeing stars, baby,” he simpered.

“Tomorrow we’ll get everything else sorted, but for tonight, we’ll just get you comfortable. The only thing you’ll be crying for by the end of the night is more.”

[writingworlds]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

Pairing(s): Carlos Sainz x reader

Summary: Who knew that a club would lead you to the most attractive guy you've seen and to possibly what was the worst decision made.

Warning(s): unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v sex, fingering, drinking? 18+, MINORS DNI

◇──◆──◇──◆ ◇──◆──◇──◆ ◇──◆──◇──◆ ◇──◆──◇──◆

It started with hungry brown eyes attaching themselves to the curves of your body.

The club was packed with people at this time of night, the hazy red lighting casting sensual halos over everyone. Carlos thought it was rather fitting, strange though, almost as if the club sensed the Ferrari drivers in its midst, wanting to celebrate their 1-2.

Charles slung one arm over Carlos’ shoulder and passed him a cocktail. “The bartender said this was the best one.”

Carlos nodded his head in thanks, barely acknowledging Charles. His teammate raised a brow and followed his line of sight.

“I see something has your attention…or rather someone.” Charles laughed. He was right. Carlos’ eyes were locked onto a particular person in the centre of the dance floor. Your hair hung loose around your face, cheeks flushed red from drinking. But your hair was not what Carlos was focused on, instead his eyes were glued to your dress, if you could call it that. The top of the dress was nothing more than two pieces of fabric tied together with a string and the bottom barely reached the top of your thighs. It left nothing to the imagination and Carlos couldn’t help but stare at you as you shook your ass on the dance floor.

“Y/N,” your friend tapped your arm. “We have a devil at ten o’clock.” That’s what you two called them. Devils. Any man who looked like they could cause trouble, and this man definitely could. It started out as a joke long ago and the nickname just stuck.

You only spared him one glance from the corner of your eye. His eyes were a rich brown colour and even in the dim light you could see how closely he was watching you. But perhaps the most striking thing about his was the stubble that covered his entire jawline, your stomach churning at the sight of it.

“Well then, I suppose that means we have put on a show,” you smirked. You pushed your way through the crowd and made it up to the dj, whispering in his ear a song request. He nodded in conformation and the moment the last song faded from the speakers yours started playing.

Your hips swayed to the beat of the song, every moment causing Carlos to grip his glass tighter. Your own eyes flitted over to his and a small grin spread across your face at the clenched jaw of the man.

Carlos could not bear it any longer, he strode over to you on the dance floor, determination echoed in every step. His hungry brown eyes continued to bore into yours as he moved closer, the pulsating music slowly enveloping you in a sensual rhythm.

His large hands attached themselves to your hips sending an electrifying jolt through your body. You spun around to face him, the red strobe lights flickering across the two of you as his touch began to say things words couldn’t capture. The magnetic pull between you continued to increase with every twirl and sway.

Carlos attached your lips to the shell of your ear, his voice dark and raspy. “Why don’t we get out of here, my hotel is not too far away.”

You nodded instantly, energy thrumming through your veins. “I would love to.”

For the entirety of the taxi ride Carlos’ hand played with the hem of your dress, hands trailing dangerously closer towards the place where you wanted him the most.

Before you knew it you had arrived at his place of residence, even his touch couldn’t distract you from how stunning the place was. He had said hotel, but you weren’t expecting this.

The lobby was a symphony of marble floors, cascading chandeliers, and plush velvet furniture. A small waterfall cascaded down in the background and you could easily picture the bustling place the hotel would become in the morning.

The room Carlos had was no different in its excellence though you didn’t get to admire it for too long as the moment the door shut behind the two of you Carlos picked you up and pushed you towards the wall.

His kisses were hot and heavy against your skin, no doubt they were sure to leave a bruise. Waves of pleasure rushed through your body as he continued to trail kisses down your neck. No one, no one had made you feel this weak in the knees before, especially from just a few kisses.

Your mouth met his in feverish hunger, chest heaving as you nodded towards the bed. “Please.”

Carlos obliged to your plea and carried you over towards the king sized bed. The mattress dipped under the combined weight of the two of you and you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his chest pressed up against yours.

“Off, I want this off.” The dark red button down looked absolutely exquisite on him but it was nothing compared to the sight below. A mouth watering set of abs greeted your eyes and you slowly ran your fingers across the dips of his skin, relishing how his body trembled at your touch.

It wasn’t fair for only him to have his top off so you slowly guided his hand towards the zipper of your dress. The navy fabric was tossed to the side in an instant and Carlos’ breath audible hitched at the sight of your body.

“You have gorgeous breasts,” he murmured, nipping at your right nipple.

Your back arced in pleasure, his touch was divine against your skin. Every moment of his tongue against your body dragged a long moan out of you.

“Oh fuck.” You murmured. Your thighs clenched together and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool at the center.

Carlos followed the movement of your legs with his and he dropped a hand down to your core. Your slick costed his fingers and he hadn’t done anything other than cup you.

“Shit you are wet.” Carlos smirked. He took great delight in knowing how much he turned you on. After gently traces circles around your clit he slipped a finger in, curling it, trying to find that one particular spot.

Another moan fell from your lips and the familiar coil began to tighten in your belly. “Keep going, please, don’t stop.”

Carlos pumped his fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching tightly around them. “That’s it. Good girl. Now cum for me.”

Stars appeared in your vision, giant waves of pleasure overtaking your body and sweeping you out to sea. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open and were met with Carlos’ flushed face.

His dick was hard, almost uncomfortable so, and it was clearly straining against his pants. You raised a shaky hand, undid the zipper of his jeans and pulled them down.

He was big, with a large vein running along the underside of his dick. The tip was flushed and angry red, clearly begging for attention.

Carlos let out a guttural groan the moment your hand wrapped around his length. You gave him a few experimental pumps before falling into a nice rhythm.

His mouth covered yours once again in a searing kiss and the words that tumbled out of it were down right filthy. “I don’t just want your hand wrapped around my cock pretty girl, I want that pussy.”

Your walls fluttered at his words and using the hand that was still wrapped around his length you guided him towards your entrance. With how wet you were no lube was needed and the only sound that filled the room was skin slapping against skin.

It didn’t take long for him to cum and collapse in an exhausted pile on top of you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Let me get a cloth to clean you up.”

Carlos took great time in wiping the cloth along your body, making sure he wasn’t being too rough with it. After he was done the two of you fell back into the back, a tangled mess of limbs.

And it ended with rumpled sheets and a half empty bed.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 36: The End **

I am glad you are here with me, here at the end of all things, Sam. Frodo Baggins - The Return of the King

Series Master List

Epilogue Warnings have their own post - Word count: 17.5k (I saved the longest for last 😊)

Having electricity wasn’t a new thing to you both, the QZ’s had electricity, albeit black outs where common. But electricity in Jackson, in a community where everyone worked towards a common goal of making things better, it was like a return to a more normal life. Supplies were still scarce, daily hunting trips a necessity, but suddenly you could cook food, freeze it, preserve it and lay away stores for the winter. A large cold storage had already been built and as the summer drew to an end and the trees started to shift in color, it was being filled with the harvest of the community garden and the berries collected in the wild during hunting trips. And all the projects picked up speed when power tools could be maintained and used. Although Frankie cursed the raw blisters on his hands after he and a few other of the strongest men had worked at felling trees by hand, fuel was still a rarity so axes had to be used for that.

But it was also the simple act of coming home and the house, yours and Frankie’s house, being lit up by lamps, the warmth hitting you as you opened the door and the smell of cooking drifted out along with music, actual vinyl record music.

You poke your head around the corner, into the living room, and find Frankie hunched over, holding on to Jack’s chubby hands, as the baby’s unsteady legs wobble with each step.

“C’mon, Jack, look at you go!” Frankie smiles, “You’ll be walking in no time, gordito!”

Jack gurgled, grinning widely, proudly showing his two tiny teeth, the sources of many sleepless nights lately. Frankie looks up as you step into the room, turning Jack around to face you.

“C’mon, Jackie, walk to your mamá, show her how good you are,” he gives you a wide grin, “He’s been standing up all afternoon, holding onto the couch.”

“You’re growing so fast, Jack,” you smile, crouching down as he wobbles towards you, holding onto Frankie’s hands. The baby stumbles into your chest and grabs onto your hair as you pick him up, holding him tight and kissing his chubby cheek. Being Jack’s mamá had become second nature, the little boy inserting himself into your life just as easily as Frankie and you had settled in Jackson.

You’d worried briefly over how Frankie would fare with sleepless nights, his nightmares and troubled sleep hadn’t gone away. But it was as if his body clicked into another gear, remembering sleepless nights with his own daughter. He’d be wide awake as soon as Jack whimpered, out of the bed and picking him up before you’d barely opened your eyes. Half asleep you’d listen as Frankie padded around the room across the hall, soothing Jack, singing endless renditions of Arroz con Leche until even you knew it by heart. On the nights when Jack just wouldn’t settle, Frankie would take him downstairs, heat up some baby food, usually berries with some sweet honey, and wander through the house with Jack in his arms until he fell asleep again. And then he’d tuck Jack back in and you’d briefly wake up as he slipped under the covers, reaching out and curling himself around you. You’d grumble as his cold skin met your bed warm body but he’d just bury his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as your hair tickled his nose. It would put you right back to sleep, his body slowly warming up, his arms around you and his hand in yours as you felt his hot breath over your neck.

It was the most domestic it had ever felt since the outbreak, sometimes you woke up forgetting it had even happened. You’d blink your eyes open to sunlight filtering in through the curtains, a soft pillow under you, Frankie’s arm around you and clean sheets and blankets on top. If Frankie had snuck up and left the bed before you woke up, you’d smell breakfast from downstairs, frying eggs, warm bread, even jam. The crackle of the fireplace would drift up to you as you pulled your robe on and walked on bare feet down the stairs. You’d stop at the entrance to the kitchen, just like you did when you came home, and just take in the sight of Frankie, your husband, making breakfast for Jack, your son, like it was the most normal thing to do and the outbreak had never happened. It made your heart warm and you could watch the scene for hours. But it also made you realize how much you had to lose, now more than ever, and it scared you. You knew both you and Frankie would fight tooth and nail to protect this life that Jackson offered its small, but growing, population, because this was worth fighting for, more than just fighting for Frankie and yourself.

…

The first time Pat took you and Frankie up to the radio tower it was a beautiful morning. You’d left baby Jack with Maria before heading out. The first snow had fallen over Jackson and the surrounding mountains overnight and the weather had turned properly cold. It had taken longer than planned to get out to the radio tower, many things needed to be prepared before the winter in order for the community to survive. With the electricity up and running, alot projects took priority. Houses were mended and isolated, two women with medical training needed help setting up a small clinic, the stable had to be completed and isolated. On top of that were the necessary and constant patrols and guard shifts almost everyone had to participate in as well as going hunting with Pat.

But now, finally, you were on your way up to the radio tower to see if the radio could be made to work. If not, Pat thought it would be good to have a safe house on one of the patrol routes where patrols could seek shelter if they needed too. With you was another Jackson resident, an older man called Eugene. He was a former electrical engineer and to be honest, you thought your participation on this mission might be pointless, if Eugene couldn’t fix the radio, you didn’t think you’d be able to either.

The entire radio tower compound had at some point been surrounded by a chain link fence with barbed wire on top. It looked in pretty bad disrepair by now and was pulled down in places.

“It’d be good if we could get that fixed,” Pat says, looking at the fence, “get a gate in place and make this place a bit more secure.”

“Yeah,” Frankie nodded, “we still have plenty of fence and barbed wire down in the Jackson HomeDepot, pretty sure we could build a gate too.”

You were on Winston together with Frankie for this ride. You were slowly learning to be a better rider and had been practicing whenever you had time, but you preferred riding with Frankie when you had to go outside Jackson. You felt safe sitting in front of him, he had one steady arm around your waist, the other holding the reins. Now you feel him move his hips and nudge Winston onwards, through the main gates and into the small yard in front of the entrance.

“Has anyone been into the radio tower recently?” Frankie asks, looking at the door that’s hanging off its frame and half open.

“No, not since we first came up here,” Pat says as he swings himself off his horse after stopping by the fence, “We’re going to need to clear it out carefully.”

Frankie keeps an eye on the door as Eugene gets off his horse but makes no move to let you get off, “Was the door always open?” he asks, pulling the rifle from its holster and Pat turns around, furrowing his forehead as he looks at the door.

“We had to break it open when we first came up here, but I’m sure we closed it when we left.”

You can feel Frankie tense up behind you as Pat carefully approaches the door, gun raised. He bends and picks up a brick from the ground and tosses it in through the door. A shriek cuts through the air, making the horses skittish, and then the tell tale sound of a clicker.

“Fuck…” Frankie breathes behind you and Pat hastily retreats and swings himself up on his horse. You’ve got your gun raised too now and when the door slams open, the clicker is hit with several rounds, two shots exploding through its head, making it drop on the ground.

All four of you sit in silence, waiting to hear if something else stirs on the inside. After a few minutes Pat gets off his horse again and approaches the door, you can’t help but wonder if he’s really brave or really stupid, but he nudges the dead clicker out of the way and shines his torch into the darkness.

Behind you, you feel Frankie press a kiss to the side of your neck, “Stay here, cariño,” he whispers before he slides off and quietly walks up behind Pat, joined by Eugene, who’s also gotten off his horse again.

“If I remember correctly, there’s a light switch just inside here,” Pat says, and feels around just inside the door. It clicks and the room fills with light and nothing stirs. Frankie waves you towards him and you tie up Winston and join them.

“Eugene, no offense,” Pat says, “but you’re the oldest and least nimble here, could you stay and watch our backs?”

“No offense taken,” Eugene chuckles and takes up post at the door, looking out at the horses and the front yard while Frankie, you and Pat move towards the inner door. It’s a wide double door and it’s undisturbed.

“We did close this one too, hopefully nothing else got in,” Pat says in a low voice as he reaches for it. It opens without issue and nothing moves on the other side. Silently and carefully the three of you go through the building, clearing out rooms and gathering any supplies you come across until you reach the main radio room on the second floor.

“This seems to be the way we left it too,” Pat says and you walk over to the radio. It’s not a military radio but it’s different from the one you worked on in Boston but it doesn’t take you and Frankie long to start it up. The electricity cables from the Jackson Dam run up here too and the console hums to life, but when you flip the switches to receive or broadcast, all you hear is silence, not even static.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you say, “but if you could check all the wires Frankie, and I’ll check that equipment does what it should.”

“Sure, cariño,” Frankie says and while Pat scans the top floor for any supplies, you and Frankie work through the radio.

“I’m gonna go get Eugene,” you finally sigh, on your back underneath the console, “I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong if all the wires are connected and all the equipment works, something else is up.”

“Ok, I’m just gonna double check the connection from the outside, up on the radio tower,” Frankie says as he gives you a hand up from the floor. You jog down the stairs and back towards the front door. Perplexed, you stop by it and look around, Eugene isn’t there but you can’t see any other footsteps in the snow so you turn and look into the building, his snow covered footprints are moving off towards one of the rooms you cleared coming in.

“Eugene?” you call, walking towards the back. You’ve cleared this area so you’re not too worried, but there’s always a risk of the crumbling building deciding to collapse a floor or a ceiling on any explorer. There’s a door you haven’t seen before, half open at the back of a hallway and you carefully poke your head through it. You can see a set of stairs going down and a flashlight moving around in the dark.

“Eugene, you ok?” you call and to your relief you hear Eugene’s voice come back up to you.

“Yeah, yeah, just checking this basement, the door was locked but I got through it. It’s pretty empty down here though.”

“Ok, just come up when you can, we need you to check the radio,” you call back down to him.

“Right, I'll be there in a jiffy.”

You hear it as you turn, the fast, uneven scrambling of feet behind you making your adrenaline spike. The infected runner bolts through the open front door and immediately sees you, launching itself at you with a shriek. Your hand goes for your gun and… you grasp at nothing, panic shoots through you as you realize it’s on the table upstairs where you left it before you crawled under the table.

“Frankie!” you scream as the infected runs down the hallway and you back up, through the basement door, barely slamming it shut in time. But the broken lock won’t let the door close and the runner's hands are scratching through the opening, pushing it back. With a cry you stumble back as it throws itself against the door and get it open. You lose your balance and tumble down the stairs, a sharp pain shoots through your head as you slam down against the first landing. You fight to keep your eyes open, a haze overtaking you, but the infected screeches and runs down the stairs. It’s on top of you in an instance and you just manage to get your arms up, avoiding its snapping mouth as black dots dance around your vision. As you slip under you hear Frankie roar your name.

Frankie hears you scream, the desperation in your voice cuts through his heart like ice and he almost falls off the ladder as he slides down, dropping everything to get to you. He hears the infected shriek and he roars your name, taking the stairs three steps at a time. He sees the runner shove the door open as he reaches the first floor and hears your scream as you tumble backwards and the loud crack as you hit something on your way down.

He slams through the door and almost falls down the stairs as he tackles the infected, “Get off her,” he roars, wrenching it to the side and shoving his gun point blank to its head, pulling the trigger. The ragged body drops immediately but Frankie doesn’t even register, he’s turned to you, hands roaming over your still body, searching every inch of skin he can reach.

“Did she get bit?” he hears Pat pant from behind but he can’t respond, he’s pulling off your shirt, trying to lift you up without jostling your limp body.

“C’mon cariño, please, please, don’t do this to me, not like this, not like this,” his voice breaks and he grabs your cheek in his hand, the other around your back, carefully sitting you up, cradling you in his arms.

“Put that away, she’s not fucking bit!” he snaps at Pat as he sees the man come around the side, aiming his gun at you. Pat lowers it, your eyes are still closed.

“Please, hermosa, mi vida, I’m here, please don’t leave me,” he caresses your cheek, lightly tapping it to make you wake up, “Don’t go, I can’t…” he whispers, “I can’t lose you,” he bites back the panic that threatens to rise up. “Please, you know I need you more than you need me, that’s how it’s always been. I’m a fucking mess without you, I can’t keep my shit together without you, I need you with me, always, cariño. Fuck, please, just wake up!” He’s rambling as fear fills his chest, making breathing hard. In desperation he gives your shoulder a little shake and suddenly your eyes blink open, with a groan you squeeze them shut again against the bright light of Eugene’s flashlight.

“Frankie…” you mumble and he shushes you.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, don’t worry, I’ve got you hermosa, I’ve got you, just don’t scare me like that again.

One of his hands is still feeling as much of your body as he can, lifting your arms and hands, inspecting them while Pat waits, his eyes searching your skin too.

“Cariño, I need to open your shirt,” Frankie says, leaning closer to your ear, “I’m sorry, I have to make sure you…” he trails off, his jaw tightening as he exhales through his nose, “I have to check you for bites,” he grits out, looking into your eyes as you carefully open them again.

“Ok,” you breath out, your voice small and scared and Frankie cups your cheek.

“It’s ok cariño, I won’t let you be alone if that happens, I won't leave you.” Gently he unbuttons your flannel shirt, pushing it off you while trying to not hurt your head, a large bump is already forming at the back. His hands roam across your bare skin, breathing a deep sigh of relief as he finds nothing. Cupping both cheeks with his hands he presses his lips hard against yours, kissing you deeply before pulling back again.

“You’re fine, nothing on you,” he says, releasing your cheek to push a strand of hair behind your ear, “let me check that bump on your head though.”

“The dog will have to check her when we get back, Frankie, you know that,” Pat says, putting his gun back in his holster and Frankie nods while gently probing your head.

“I know, but she’s fine, you can see for yourself.”

Pat takes Eugene upstairs to the radio and Frankie carefully makes you stand up on unsteady legs. You pull your shirt back on and button it as you tell him what happens, Frankie curses Eugene for leaving his post under his breath.

“What the fuck was he gonna do in the basement anyway?” he growls, putting his arm around your waist and leading you back upstairs. On the way past the front door, he stops and closes it, dragging a heavy desk in front of it, “Should’ve just fucking done that from the beginning,” he grumbles.

When you get back upstairs, Frankie insists on you sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall, while he helps Eugene with the radio. It doesn’t take the old man long to figure out what’s wrong, quickly replacing some sort of mechanism in the back and tweaking it. When Frankie flicks the switch, statics fills the room.

“Let me hail Sean back in Boston,” you say, pushing yourself up from the floor, making Frankie rush over to hook his arm around your waist. You want to tell him to not fuss, but you’re still woozy and your head hurts so you gratefully accept his support.

After a bit of experimentation you find Sean’s frequency, praying he’s still working the radio, that FEDRA hasn’t shut it down, and hail him. After you say ‘Over’ the airwaves go silent and you wait, everyone in the room holding their breath.

“Boston QZ here,” Sean’s distinct voice comes through tinny and shrill but it’s definitely him and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Sean!” you cry out, “It’s so good to hear your voice!”

“What…is…is that really you?” Sean sounds amazed and relieved on the other end. “I thought you were dead, and your Frankie too, you just disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth! Where are you?”

“It’s a long story Sean, and I can’t tell you where we are, in case you know who is listening. But we’re safe, we’re fine, both of us.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, and how’s Frankie, is he doing well?”

“I’m here Sean,” Frankie leans forward and grins into the microphone, “I’m doing good, really great.”

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that, my dear boy! The last time I saw you, I’m sorry, but you didn’t look well,” You can hear Sean’s smile through the speakers and you give Frankie’s hand a little squeeze.

“I know, Sean, but it’s all good now. And we’ve met some good people here too, so we’re doing good.”

“Listen, Sean,” you say, before Sean can say something else about Frankie’s health, “Can you pass a message to Will and Benny? Let them know we’re alive and well and that we want to schedule a time to talk to them on the radio?”

“Absolutely, of course! I’ll leave the radio station early and go past their place before the curfew tonight.” Sean replies and you hear him scrabble around for something in the background before he comes back on, “I’ll have to leave straight away, it’s almost five thirty here, and the curfew is still at six pm.”

“Thank you, Sean, you’re the best,” you say, “Be careful, and give them hugs from us!”

“I won’t even reach up to give them hugs,” Sean chuckles, “but I’ll try. I’ll radio at two pm tomorrow, does that work for you?”

“We’ll be here, Sean,” Frankie says, “talk soon, over and out.”

“Over and out.”

…

You feel giddy on the way back to Jackson, despite the dull throb in your head. The feeling lasts right until Pat stops you just outside the Jackson gates.

“Sorry, I need to get Maria and the dog, you know the rules,” he says and you just nod to him and he disappears inside the gate. Frankie helps you out of the saddle, gently setting you down on your feet.

“It’ll be fine, cariño, he just has to be cautious,” he says, running his hand over your cheek before he wraps it around your shoulders, holding you close.

It doesn’t take long for Pat to return with Maria, she’s got a worried look on her face but stops a few feet from you.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I really hope you’re not infected but you know the drill,” she kneels to release the dog and looks up at Frankie. “I’m sorry, Frankie, but I need you to step away from here, and I’ll let the dog sniff you too, just to be safe.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, letting his hand fall from your shoulder as he steps back.

You hold your breath as the German Shepherd approaches, you blacked out, you don’t know you didn’t get bit but Frankie insists you’re fine, but what if he missed something? The dog sniffs your legs and jumps up, bumping its snout into your belly with a happy wag of its tail and you exhale deeply. Maria whistles and directs the dog towards Frankie and he trots over, Frankie reaches down and holds out his hand, the dog takes one sniff and then lifts his head and licks Frankie’s face, its long tongue lapping across his nose.

“Jeez, Scout,” Frankie chuckles, holding the dog off with his hands, “you’re not meant to eat me if I’m not infected, you know.”

“Thank god you’re both fine, I nearly had a heart attack when Pat told me what happened, I’m going to have to have a talk with Eugene about abandoning his post,” Maria shakes her head and clips the leash back on Scout’s collar. “But I heard the radio works and you got in touch with someone in Boston?”

“Yeah, Sean, who I used to work with on the radio there,” you reply as the four of you start walking back through the gates, Winston trailing behind Frankie who’s got his arm back around your waist, making sure you’re still steady on your feet. “And actually, we wanted to talk to you and Pat about that, about Boston, but in private first I think.”

“Ok,” Maria looks curious but nods, “I’ll put Scout back in his kennel and you can meet me at my house when you’ve stabled Winston.”

“Cariño, I need to check your head too,” Frankie says, lightly running his hand over your hair, “we’ll meet you there Maria, as soon as I’m sure she didn’t get a concussion.”

Maria nods again and Frankie leads you over to the stable along with Winston. You feel ok though, a bit battered and you know you’ll have bruises all over your back soon, but you let Frankie check you after he hands Winston over to Ned.

“Just follow my finger with your eyes, cariño,” he instructs and you do as he says. He lets his finger trail back and forth in front of your eyes until you sigh and wave it away.

“Frankie, I’m fine but if you keep waving that finger I really will get nauseous.”

“I’m just making sure,” he says, “you scared the shit out of me, I hear the crack when you hit the floor you know.”

“I feel fine, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left my gun behind, that was a rookie mistake,” you say as Frankie gently cups your cheeks with his hands.

“You should’ve had it on you, but Eugene really shouldn’t have left the front door unguarded, we were lucky it was just one runner.” he tilts his head forward so that he can rest his forehead against yours. “Fuck…I hate when things like that happen to you, it’s like I a get a glimpse of what like would be without you and I don’t think I could fucking cope.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask in a small voice, “That you wouldn’t leave me if it did happen?”

“If you’d been infected?” he asks, “I wouldn’t leave you, I could never leave you, especially like that,” his thumbs stroke across your cheeks, he’s trying to keep his voice and eyes calm but you see the anguish in his face as he touches upon that thought. It fills you to, the very idea of Frankie being infected, of seeing the mycelium under his skin, losing him to that, it makes you shiver and he tightens his hold on you.

“Would you kill me? If I asked you to?” you whisper and you see his jaw tighten.

“If you wanted me too,” he says after a long pause, “I would, but I think…I might…” he shakes his head, he doesn’t want to say it, not even think it, but he knows he’d be hard pressed to not turn the gun on himself afterwards if it came to that.

“You can’t, Frankie,” you say, reaching up and tangling your fingers in the curls around his neck, “we can’t. Not while Jack needs us.” You pull back a little and look at him, his hands still around your face. “You have to promise me, that if the worst happens, you stay, for him. Don’t leave him.”

Frankie’s face flashes with pain and you feel it too, the idea of trying to go on without him, in this world, is just so very hard, but for the first time you feel responsible for someone else apart from Frankie and yourself.

“I don’t want to live without you, Frankie, not ever. But if I have to, for Jack, I’ll have figure out how to. And you need to do the same.”

He nods, it’s the smallest of gestures, but he’s looking at you and you see the intention in his eyes and you bring him close again, forehead to forehead.

“I promise, cariño,” he whispers, “I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it out too. But I’m not letting that happen, I’m keeping you and Jack safe.”

“You can’t promise that, Frankie,” you whisper back, coming back to the same objection as always.

“Just fucking watch me,” he growls, but he’s smiling, challenging you to contradict him in his conviction.

It’s only a little bit later that you make your way over to Maria’s house, the plan for what you’re going to ask her ready. She calls for you to come on in when Frankie raps his knuckles on the front door.

Pat is already in the living room, on the couch with a cup of herbal tea in his hand, the only warm drink the community is able to produce, yet at least.

“How’s the head?” he asks as you sit down.

“Not too bad, there’s an egg sized lump on the back of my head that’s throbbing, but nurse Frankie says no concussion.

Pat chuckles as Frankie rolls his eyes at you, “Good to hear, you gave us one hell of a scare there, sorry if I was a bit rough with you afterwards.”

“There’s no need, Pat, it is what it is,” you shrug, trying to feign a casual response you don’t feel.

“I made some tea for you two too, thought you might need some warming up,” Maria says as she comes into the living room, “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Frankie accepts the tea from Maria and clears his throat, “We wanted to ask you if we can invite four friends of ours, to Jackson, if they can make it from Boston.”

Maria has raised her eyebrows in question, you know how protective she is, how protective you all are, of the community, who you let in, and how crucial it is to keep the circle of people who know about it small.

“Before the outbreak, as you know, I was in Delta Force,” Frankie says, rubbing his thumb over the tea mug, “two of my best friends from those days, Will and Benny Miller, are still in Boston with their girlfriends. Will and Benny are two of the best people I know, my brothers, and very competent soldiers. For selfish reasons we’d both like to have them here, but I also think they’d be a great asset to Jackson.”

Maria nods slowly and looks over at Pat who’s rubbing his hand over his chin, “Frankie, I’ve only known you for a few months, but I trust you with my life when we’re out on patrol, and if they’re anything like you, and you vouch for them, I’d be more than happy to welcome them here.”

Pat’s glowing review of Frankie’s character makes pride swell in your chest and you see Frankie’s ears turn pink at the praise.

“Thanks, man, I…I don’t know what to say,” Frankie stutters, failing to hide his grin, “I…We’ve just really tried to do our best for the community, and I know Will and Ben would do the same. And their girlfriends are great people too, Diana, Will’s partner, is a nurse and Eve was training under her, it’d be great to have them here too.”

“It’s a long and dangerous journey, you two know that very well,” Maria says, “but if they’re willing to risk it, and as Pat says, you vouch for them, I don’t see why not. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to have another two ex-soldiers to deter any raiders.”

“We’re hoping to talk to them tomorrow at two pm, Boston time,” you say, “Sean was going to try to set it up for us.”

“Ok, but make sure you don’t tell them exactly where Jackson is, in case FEDRA listens in. Guide them to the radio tower, we’ll do patrols there regularly,” Maria says and Frankie can’t help but chuckle.

“Trust me, if we tell them to go to the radio tower, they’ll find Jackson the same afternoon, Benny will smell the food and Will’s going to read the map and figure out exactly where we are in under a minute.”

…

Pat and Ned come up to the radio tower with you and Frankie the next day. The front door had been properly secured before you left yesterday but you still carefully clear the building before heading up to the radio.

You start it up and find the right frequency, hailing Sean as Pat’s old wind up watch hits noon. Wyoming is still two hours behind the east coast, time zones strangely still being a thing, at least over the radio.

But it’s not Sean’s voice that comes back at you over the radio.

“Fuck you both for taking off like that,” Benny roars over the air waves, filling the small room in the radio tower, making Pat raise his eye brows and look at Frankie with alarm.

“We thought you were fucking dead! And not a word, not even fucking note, first Pope and then you two just disappear, what the fuck was that about? And now you just suddenly fucking turn up out of nowhere and you’re safe and you’re somewhere out west and I don’t know fucking what? Fish! You are so dead the next time I see you!”

“Benny, shut the fuck up for a second and let them respond,” Will’s voice comes through, interrupting Benny’s angry tirade, “Ironhead, over.”

The radio goes silent as someone on the other end lets go of the broadcast switch and you press yours down to reply, not quite sure what to say after Benny’s outburst. Sure, it was probably justified, but it wasn’t exactly the way you thought your first communication with them would go. Pat is looking very surprised and a little bit hesitant next to Frankie.

Frankie leans forward over your shoulder and puts his hand over yours on the switch, “Catfish here. Good to hear your voices, and I guess we had that coming Benny. We owe you guys an explanation.”

He pauses, his hand still on the switch as he collects his thoughts, “I had to leave, you guys know why, and she made me see that it was the only way. We didn’t want to leave without saying anything but…we couldn’t let you risk everything too. I know you both would’ve come anyway, even if I told you not to, so we had to leave without saying anything. But I’m sorry, really, Benny, I’m really sorry we didn’t say anything. Over.” He takes his hand off yours and you let the switch flip back up into the receiving position.

“Are you good now, Fish? Over.” Will’s voice comes over the radio almost instantly and Frankie hits reply.

“Yeah, I’m good now, been good for a while. But I’ll tell you all about it later, because we’ve found something really good here and we want you to come out too, if you can. It’s a long journey, but it’ll be worth it. I don’t wanna say too much in case FEDRA or someone else is listening in, but remember that job we did in Iraq? And the name of that fucking C.O. that kept calling Pope and me spics? There’s a place in Wyoming that matches, that’s where we are, come find us there. Over.” Frankie lets go of the switch.

“You’re in Wyoming? How the fuck did you end up there?” Benny’s voice is incredulous and he still sounds a bit pissed off but Will interrupts him.

“So you want us to travel halfway across the country but you can’t tell us why?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I know it’s dodgy as fuck, but I know you trust me, it’s good, it’ll be worth it, we’ve got something really good going here. And you know the names right?”

“Yeah, sure, I still have a fucking five inch scar from that job and I know exactly what asshole you mean,” Will responds.

“Will,” you lean forward, “it’s a dangerous journey, we know that. But if you can get a car, you’ll find abandoned cars almost the whole way so that you can fill up on gas as you go, that’s what we did. Only thing is, the last two days, once we got to Wyoming, there were no more cars so we had to walk the rest of the way.”

“But why the fuck did you go as far as Wyoming?” Benny asks again and you can’t help but smile, you can see his face in front of you, his forehead bunched up as he tries to wrap his head around it.

“We didn’t plan it,” Frankie says, “we were just trying to get away from populated areas as much as possible. And then…something happened in Nebraska, and we had to head further west.”

“Yeah, be careful of people, we ran into some really nasty types in Nebraska, just about got away,” you fill in.

“But you’re saying it’ll be worth the journey, if we make it out to you guys?” Will asks and Frankie nods as he flicks the switch.

“Yeah, absolutely, I’m sorry I can’t say more over the radio, but yeah, one hundred percent worth it.”

“Well, anything is better than fucking Boston QZ at the moment,” Benny grumbles as Will flicks the switch again. “FEDRA has turned it into a fascist state, it’s even worse than when you left.”

“Fish, we’ll talk to Diana and Eve and let you know, but…I mean, I trust you with my life, you’re my brother,” Will says, “If you say it’s worth risking our lives for, then I believe you.”

“Ok, can you be back on the air at the same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Will says, “We’ll talk to you tomorrow. Over and out.”

The radio goes silent and you sit back, you can hardly believe you just talked to Will and Benny again. You just hope they want to come, and that they make it. Frankie wraps his arms around you from behind and gives you a big hug, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“So fucking great to talk to them again,” he grins, “I hope they want to come but I hope we did the right thing to ask them, it’s a long journey.”

You nod as you go through the motions of switching off the radio, you hope so too and a little ball of anxiety is settling in your stomach.

…

That ball grows as you don’t hear from them the next day. Not even Sean is on the radio and you can’t get in touch with Boston at all. You fiddle with the dials, trying everything Sean’s taught you, but there’s nothing, just statics. Frankie stands behind your shoulder, looking anxious. It was always a risk, contacting them inside the QZ, if FEDRA listened in they might’ve tried getting to Will and Benny straight away.

“Fuck, I really hope we didn’t put them in danger just by contacting them,” you say with a sigh, looking up at Frankie, he’s rubbing his hand over his jaw, deep in thought.

“I don’t know, cariño, I really hope not. I guess all we can do is come by here every day at noon and see if we get a response.”

You and Frankie take the patrol route that goes past the radio tower every day and make sure to be there at noon. The first couple of weeks you remain hopeful, maybe something broke, maybe there’s a curfew preventing anyone from getting to the radio, life is so unpredictable now, you know this. But as the weeks turn into a month, and then two, and the radio remains silent, both you and Frankie start losing hope. It’s like the Boston radio station has ceased to exist and all you can do is wait. And hope.

It’s not until you’re deep into winter that you come back to the radio station on one of your patrol routes, Frankie and you don’t even go on that patrol regularly anymore, and you find a message from one of the other Jackson residents.

Message from Sean in Boston: FEDRA shut down radio. W & B left approx. three months ago. Hope they have arrived. Will send new messages when possible.

“Three months ago?” you say, looking at Frankie, “they should be here by now if they managed to drive.”

“They should be here even if they walked the whole way,” Frankie says, his eyebrows knitted together in a worried frown, “something must’ve happened.”

You feel the lump in your stomach, anxious nerves twisting your insides, and Frankie sees the look in your eyes and pulls you into his arms.

“Don’t give up hope yet, cariño,” he mumbles into your hair, “you know that if there’s anyone that can do that journey, it’s Will and Benny.”

“I almost wish we hadn’t told them,” you say into his chest, “I’m scared we’ll never hear from them again and never know what happened.”

He caresses your hair, trailing his fingers along the back of your neck, “You know, Benny will say it’s payback for what we did when we left without saying anything, I can just see his smirk as he says it, ‘Fuckin’ payback Fish!’ “

You smile through your tears, looking up at Frankie who’s doing his best to imitate Ben’s smug grin.

“There you go,” he smiles back at you, wiping your cheek clean, “don’t grieve for them yet, there’s still plenty of hope.”

…

Winter in Boston is a piece of cake compared to winter in Wyoming, as you find out, especially this close to the Rockies. The snow covers everything both inside and outside of Jackson in a thick layer. Almost every morning Frankie shovels the snow off your front porch and clears the path to the street. Then he shovels the section of the street the two of you are assigned to, everyone helping out to keep Jackson passable as the winter continues. Patrols become increasingly difficult, the snow becomes too deep even for the horses to pass through and the only upside is that if the Jackson guards can’t patrol, then no one else can either, all of Wyoming is snowed in.

But there’s plenty to do in the town and you go back to working in the kitchen, bringing Jack with you most days. He’s the only baby in the community and to say he’s spoiled rotten would be an understatement. He’s walking now, waddling around as fast as his chubby legs will carry him, but when he’s in the kitchen he spends most of his time on the hip of one of the residents who work there with you, happily watching everything that goes on around him.

Frankie takes Jack some days but he’s often outside, helping to build or fix things, slowly putting Jackson together into a working town. The stable has been joined by two chicken coops, the old medical clinic has been cleaned out and repaired as much as possible, there’s even a communal ‘shop’ of sorts where any useful clothes and shoes are stored and organized. An election has been held and Maria is now head of the community board, Jackson is slowly turning into a proper town.

As the weeks pass, the winter deepens and Maria and the board decide that it’s time for the town to have its very first holiday celebration. To be honest, no one is completely sure what day it is anymore. You lost track back in Denny’s cabin when you were trying to keep Frankie alive. In the QZ some people had made calendars to track the days but more often than not they disagreed on exactly what day it was. FEDRA in Boston claimed they had an exact calendar, but Will, who’d spent most of his life tracking everything, said it was incorrect by twenty six days, almost a month off, and you trusted Will. But in Boston, even to Will, it didn’t really matter what date it was, you were too busy just surviving.

So as the days are still growing shorter, a day is picked, a Saturday in two weeks, for the first Jackson Holiday Season celebration. The community hall is decorated with evergreens and the big room smells of juniper and pine every time you come inside. A thread bare red blanket has been cut into strips and turned into bows that are now nestled in the evergreen branches. And it seems every red item that can be found in Jackson has been brought to the hall to decorate tables, windows and every available surface.

As the day draws nearer Frankie becomes more and more secretive about what he’s up to, giving you sly grins whenever you ask where he’s off to as he tries to sneak out the door. You know he’s planning something, but you can’t figure out what. But his absence from the house gives you time to work on your own gifts for him.

There’s not much in the way of available holiday gifts though. Although Jack’s turns out to be pretty easy, the toy shop in the non-enclosed part of Jackson has an array of toys left on its shelves, not much use to anyone in the apocalypse. Frankie and you go over there one afternoon on a patrol route and pick out a colorful set of wood blocks and, of course, a toy helicopter, still in its box.

“You’ll have to explain what a helicopter is,” you say to Frankie as you watch him carefully scan the shelves to find the biggest and, in Frankie’s professional opinion, best helicopter model.

“Yeah, kinda weird knowing he’s gonna grow up never seeing a helicopter or airplane actually fly,” he replies, discarding yet another helicopter, “This model is alright, but the Viper really is better, even if most people thought the Apache Guardian was the best one. I always preferred the Viper, better maneuverability at low altitudes.”

“I think he’ll like this one,” you say, pointing to a bright red and yellow helicopter, clearly from a children's tv-show. Frankie glances at it and shakes his head immediately.

“No, I’m not giving our son a fake helicopter, he’s getting a real one.” He goes back to scanning the shelves, crouching down and moving the boxes aside. “Maybe they have some more out back,” he mutters, discarding yet another perfectly fine looking military helicopter.

“Well, when you find a ‘real’ helicopter in here, let me know. I’m going to see if I can find some crayons and drawing books for him,” you can’t help teasing him as you turn away and head towards the craft section.

You have to stop yourself from filling your bag to the brim with crayons, drawing books, beads, paint, brushes and other crafting materials, but you still stuff it pretty full. Just as you close it Frankie finally comes over, two boxes in his hands.

“I found a Viper out back, last one they had,” he says with a grin, showing you a military helicopter that, to you, looks identical to the one he discarded, “but I also got him this really cool rescue services helicopter, they use it for water bombing, it’s a S-64 Skycrane, it can hold up to three thousand gallons of water! In the army we call it the CH-54 Tarhe, but the Skycrane is the civilian name. It’s a twin engine, heavy lifting helicopter, one of the best in the world. You really need a pilot and a co-pilot to fly it but I had special training and could fly it solo in an emergency. But the really cool thing is that it could lift up to forty two thousand pounds and still do a hundred and nine knots! Isn’t that awesome, cariño?”

You’ve walked out of the shop and turned back down towards the Jackson gate while Frankie enthusiastically gushes about the toy helicopters still in his hands and when he pauses for your opinion, you just nod and smile at him. Most of what he said has just floated through your head, but Frankie tirade of facts reminds you of the first time he took you up flying, how he’d rattled off technical facts about the helicopter you were about to fly in and then apologized for boring you with all the details. As you wave to the guards and the gate slides open to let you in, you bump his shoulder with yours.

“That’s pretty cool, Frankie. Jack’s going to be very impressed too.”

“I can’t wait to show him on Christmas morning,” Frankie grins, smiling lovingly down at the two helicopters in his hands.

…

The night before what Jackson has communally decided is Christmas, or whatever holiday you want to celebrate, Frankie turns up at the door with a Christmas tree and you can’t believe your eyes. It’s not huge, a modest one, but he’s somehow found a foot for it, and now it’s standing in the living room and Jack’s eyes have never been bigger as he gazes at it. He’s almost one and you’re set on making his first Christmas as magical as possible.

“Pat, Ned and I found loads of decorations at HomeDepot, even the lights work,” Frankie says, showing you the box. “We’ve got enough decorations there to fill all of Jackson I think, I even got candy canes!”.

“You’ve got everything here,” you can’t help but giggle as you look into the box of decorations he’s dragged in after the tree, “baubles, tinsel, streamers, this is going to look amazing.” You haven’t wanted to celebrate anything for years, but now you’re filled with an urge to make the tree, and the house, look perfect for your first family Christmas. You’ve already made a wreath for the front door out of evergreen and colorful scraps of fabric but now you can add more decorations to the house. As Frankie organizes the tree decorations, you go through the house, placing tinsel and baubles wherever you can find a suitable spot.

“Should we decorate the tree now or wait until Jack’s asleep?” Frankie asks you as you come back into the living room, “My mom would always do it while we slept and then it’d be all perfect and ready on Christmas morning.”

“He’s too small for that, and I wanna sit in front of the fire with you tonight and look at our tree,” you reply, sliding your arm around his waist and giving him a squeeze.

“Anything for you, cariño,” Frankie says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

…

Christmas Day morning you wake up as Frankie slips from the bed and you mumble after him. He comes back and tucks you back in, placing a feather soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Go back to sleep, cariño, I won’t be long.”

You doze off, the light in the room still dim and there’s no noise from Jack’s room, it must be early.

Frankie gently places a tray on the bedside table a little bit later and runs his hand over your shoulder, making you blink awake.

“Merry Christmas, hermosa,” he whispers, before he disappears again and you slowly open your eyes, confused. But then you hear Jack’s gurgling as Frankie comes back in with the baby in his arms and you wake up properly.

“First family Christmas for baby Jack,” Frankie smiles and gives you the little boy after you’ve scooted yourself up to lean against the headboard.

“First family Christmas,” you smile back, snuggling a still sleepy Jack close while Frankie picks up the tray and sets it down on the bed before crawling back in next to you. On it are two steaming mugs and you can’t believe your nose.

“Is that hot chocolate, Frankie?!” you ask, eyes wide and he nods, giving you a big grin.

“Pat and I found a big bag of cocoa powder a while back, we’ve been keeping it a secret for Christmas, he’s making brownies for everyone tonight.”

“Oh my god, I can’t wait…” you sigh, accepting the mug as Frankie passes it to you, keeping it out of reach from Jack’s grabby hands.

“Don’t worry, gordito, I’ve made you some too,” Frankie chuckles, giving Jack a sippy cup. The baby’s face transforms as he tastes the sweet drink, tilting the cup back so fast you have to grab it to stop him from drowning himself in the drink.

“I hope there’s plenty of cocoa powder because we may have found Jack’s new favorite thing,” you laugh. Frankie scoots closer and puts his arm behind your back, pulling you into his side and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Frankie, your present is under the tree,” you say and you can feel him chuckle under you.

“So that’s what you did when you snuck downstairs in the middle of the night,” he laughs, “I was wondering what you were up to.”

“No, that was Santa Claus,” you say with a serious face, “you must’ve heard of him coming down the chimney.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Frankie chuckles again, “Santa Claus.” He puts his mug down and tilts your head up towards him, brushing his nose against your cheek, running it along the bridge of your nose until his lips find yours and he nudges them apart with his tongue. He tastes of chocolate and honey and himself as he deepens the kiss. Jack coos happily on your lap, you can feel him tugging at the t-shirt you’ve slept in while Frankie’s warm body wraps around you and Jack. He pulls back a little, leaving your lips, and smiles down at you, and then Jack, his eyes warm and soft, crinkling at the corners.

“Merry Christmas,” he says in a low voice, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the peace of the moment and you reach up and cup his cheek, running your thumb over his scruffy beard, stroking the small patch that never fills in and you kiss him again.

The rest of the morning, after breakfast has been cleared away, is spent in the living room. The fire is going, warming the house and keeping the blistering cold Wyoming winter at bay, and the Jackson board has given everyone leave to light the Christmas lights as the dam is running like clockwork, producing much more electricity than the small community needs.

Jack happily tears into the bright paper around his presents, banging the wooden blocks against each other with glee as Frankie shows him how the helicopter flies. Frankie’s wearing your presents to him, your very first knitting projects, a woolly hat that turned out much better than you anticipated, and a pair of pretty knobbly socks that Frankie swears are the comfiest socks ever, but you’re pretty sure he only says that to make you happy.

Your own present from Frankie is already neatly placed in the book shelf next to the window, a wide selection of best selling books from the Jackson Bookshop. You hadn’t even known there was a bookshop but Frankie had lugged back over twenty heavy books, and promised to take you there to get more books when you wanted.

“I also have another present, but you’ll get that one tonight,” he smiles, giving you a mischievous wink that doesn’t fail to get you a little bit turned on. You’ve almost lost count of the years you’ve been with him now, but he still knows exactly what look to give you to make heat shoot through your body, making your thighs clench together.

As darkness falls over Jackson, almost everyone heads for the community hall. There’d been a draw and a few unlucky people were on guard duty, but they’ve been giving generous hampers of the best food and extra days off from guard duty as compensation. But you’re still very happy that neither your or Frankie’s names got pulled for duty tonight. Instead you’d wrapped Jack in warm clothes and walked down to the community hall that’s blazing with light and warmth. Now you’re leaning back in your chair, Jack on Frankie’s lap, full of food you didn’t think you’d ever eat again. Turkey and cranberries, roast potatoes, even Pat’s brownies, it had all been delicious and you think it may have been the best Christmas dinner you’ve ever had. Jack had happily tried everything that had been placed in front of him, except the brussel sprouts, but you couldn’t blame him for that. The brownie had been his favorite, smeared across most of his face to the delight of the whole Jackson community. It was as if Jack’s presence, still the only child in town, gave even more of a holiday feel to the celebration and he’d been passed around almost every lap during the evening before slumping in Frankie’s now, almost asleep.

“Do you want me to take him now, Frankie?” Maria asks as she comes over and you look up surprised but Frankie just smiles.

“That’d be great, I think it should be ready now,” he gives Jack a peck on the top of his fuzzy head and carefully hands him over to Maria, “We’ll come pick him up tomorrow morning, but not too early.”

“Don’t worry about it, take all the time you want,” Maria says and winks as Frankie stands, holding out his hand to you.

“Mi amor, time for your Christmas present,” he smiles and you take his hand.

“I want to ask where we’re going but I’m guessing you won’t tell me?” you ask and Frankie chuckles, waving goodbye to Maria and leading you out of the community center.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist.

You walk through the quiet town, in the opposite direction from your own house and you’re thoroughly confused when Frankie leads you down a street no one lives on yet and to a house right at the end of the cul-de-sac. He pushes the gate open but instead of going up onto the porch, he leads you round the back, pushing open another gate in a tall fence, and stepping into the backyard.

You see it immediately, a large wooden hot tub, filled to the brim with steaming water, heated by a wood fired heater next to it. A big pile of firewood is next to it and by the way the snow is flattened you guess Frankie’s been here during the evening to feed the fire and heat up the water.

“Seriously?” you smile, turning to look at Frankie who’s grinning next to you, “A hot tub?”

“Yep, we knew it was here but with fire wood needed to heat the houses it was never put to use. Now that the dam is running so well, we can afford to waste a bit of wood on heating it. So, Merry Christmas, cariño.”

He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans his head on your shoulder, the cold tip of his nose finding the warm skin of your neck and you reach up, cupping the back of his head.

“Merry Christmas, Frankie, this is amazing…” you sigh, “And I guess Maria is in on this too, that’s why she took Jack?”

“She’s babysitting him tonight for us, so we have all the time that we want,” Frankie mumbles, his lips already wandering across your neck, pushing hair out of the way and reaching that spot just under your ear that he loves to nuzzle into, to nip at just a little, because he knows how you react when he does.

“C’mon, we’re skinny dipping,” he smiles into your neck, reaching for the zipper on your winter coat and sliding it down, “strip fast and get in, I’ll be right there.”

He gives your neck a final little nip, making you hum quietly under your breath, before he steps away and goes to retrieve something up on the back porch. There’s a bench next to the hot tub and you quickly take off your jacket and peel off the rest of your clothes. As you get to your bra and panties you quickly glance around and realize that the backyard has total privacy, even from the neighboring houses, so you strip down and climb into the tub. Frankie comes back just as you step into the water, the short stay in the frigid air has made you shiver and you moan as you slip into the hot water.

“Frankie, this feels amazing,” you sigh as Frankie places a couple of towels on the heater to keep them warm, and places two glasses and a bottle on the edge of the hot tub.

“You look very cozy there, cariño,” he smiles as he starts stripping down too. You can’t help but lean on the edge of the hot tub and watch him as he pulls his shirt off, followed by his pants. He’s well into his forties now but he’s still maintained his wide, muscular shoulders and broad chest that tapers down into a narrow waist and hips over strong thighs. The only thing betraying his age and the slightly softer lifestyle of Jackson is his soft little belly and more gray hairs in his patchy beard.

“Enjoying the view?” he chuckles as he spots you shamelessly scanning his body.

“Always, ever since our first date,” you smile, scooting to the side as he steps in. Your mouth waters as you take in his half hard cock hanging stiff between his legs, despite the cold air.

Frankie sinks down into the water with a groan, the warmth seeping into his muscles and bones and with a thump he drops his head back against the edge of the hot tub and closes his eyes, letting a long breath escape him. You move closer to him again, pulling his arm around your shoulders as you sink into his side.

“Hmm…” he tilts his head towards yours, his hand coming up to hold your chin, moving it so that he can reach your lips, “you taste like Christmas, cariño.”

It makes you smile into his mouth, letting your tongue slip into his, tasting him, the burn of the whiskey he had before you left.

“What’s in the bottle, Frankie?” you ask, mumbling against him and now it’s his turn to smile.

“Something to make you lose your inhibitions and have sex in a hot tub in the middle of a Wyoming winter,” he chuckles.

“Sounds exactly like what we need,” you smile back at him and he pulls away far enough to grab the glasses and the bottle. The bottle is barely half full but it’s more than enough for a finger in each glass and when Frankie hands one to you, you smell the rich bourbon.

“This is the real stuff? Not Eugene’s moonshine?” you ask, your eyebrows raised but Frankie just grins and clinks his glass against yours.

“Merry Christmas, hermosa,” he takes a sip, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief over the brim.

“Francisco Morales,” you say, trying to sound stern, and failing, “where did you get this?” You take a sip and groan. You were never a big whiskey drinker before the outbreak, and not even during the first few years of it. But while in Boston, when creature comforts became fewer and further between, real whiskey was one of the few things that could sometimes be traded for, the one indulgence that could make you all relax enough to forget the real world for a while. As the years passed it became harder to find the good stuff, mostly it was moonshine disguised as whiskey. But this was real bourbon, Jack Daniels, and not the cheap stuff.

Frankie takes another sip and leans forward, “I pulled a few strings, I am the hero of Jackson Dam after all,” he chuckles before he makes you open your mouth to his tongue again. The whiskey flavor is mellow this time, mingling with his own taste and you forget your question, moaning as he licks into your mouth. He takes the glass from you, placing it on the edge without letting his mouth leave yours and then his hands grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. The cold air hits your shoulders but Frankie sinks down further, water sloshing around you, and as he moves his lips from your mouth, trailing down your neck, you forget about the frigid temperature. His hands are pulling you down against his hard length as he sucks a mark into your smooth skin, making you whimper under him.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” he mumbles, his lips brushing down over your chest as he lifts you out of the water, watching the cold air make your nipples tighten before he wraps a hand around your breast, the warmth from his palm making you shudder, “Gonna make you come on my fingers right here, fuck you on my lap, then I’ll take you home, get you warmed up in front of the fire before I take care of you for the rest of the night, anything you want, hermosa, I’ll do to you.”

His words make you shiver more than the air, sending spasms down your spine, and Frankie moves you off his lap, setting you down next to him, the warm water coming up to your neck again.

“You can come inside me tonight, Frankie,” you say as his strong hands grip your legs, and you feel his response, his fingers digging into your soft flesh and he presses his mouth to yours, taking a long kiss, tongues slipping over each other, before he pulls back a little.

“Open your legs for me,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear now, as he pulls you into his side, his hand slipping up the inside of your thigh. You don’t need his words to spread open for him, but he knows you like to hear him ask for it, so he lets his breath skate across the damp skin while he tells you what to do. Hooking his leg over yours, he squeezes the soft flesh of your leg as he props you open for his hand to slip further up. You’re protesting at his slow pace, he’s just teasing you as he strokes the butter soft skin right at the top of your thigh, grazing against your core as he moves his hand to the other side. He chuckles into your ear as your hips buck, chasing his hand and he lets his other arm slip down to your hip, grabbing it tight and holding you still as he moves his hand up again.

“So impatient tonight, cariño,” he smiles before his teeth nip at your neck, his scruff tickling your skin as he moves further down. His hand is still kneading the plush flesh, pushing you open more as he slides his hand back up. When his fingertips catch at your entrance and drags upwards, you whimper, turning your head and chasing his lips with your mouth. He lets you kiss him, opening his mouth to your tongue as his fingers slide through your folds.

The slow drag makes you want to clench your thighs together but his leg is keeping them in place, keeping you open for his drawn out exploration.

“Frankie…” you moan against his lips, breathing heavily against him as he brushes around your clit yet again, “please…more…”

You can feel him smile against you as your pleading voice turns into a whine when he slowly pushes the tip of his finger inside you, only the one, much too little for what you need, and you keen in protest, grabbing his shoulder and trying to push your hips towards him.

“Sshh…hermosa, just stay still, I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispers, his voice low and promising, “gonna let you feel my fingers so deep inside this wet little pussy, just be patient…” the last words he mumbles into your ear as he leaves your lips, his hot breath making you shiver. His finger slips out and slips back in, pumping slowly as he lets his thumb touch your clit feather light, but even under those small touches, your breath catches, head thrown back against the edge of the hot tub.

Frankie’s teeth grazes your throat, just under your ear, not hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to make you shiver again and he slides his finger out, even the hot water feels cool against his skin after the heat of your pussy. When he adds a second finger and slides in, he’s rewarded by a loud moan as you turn your heads towards him again, desperately seeking him. He swallows down your noises, drowning in your pants as he starts curling his fingers back, dragging across a spot he knows makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you gasp. His thumb finds your clit again and now he lets his rough pad, made soft and wrinkled by the warm water, rub across the swollen pearl, circling, flicking, teasing until your gasps are replaced by panted whimpers into his mouth.

“Frankie…” you moan, “Frankiefrankiefrankie…”

Your cries send shock waves into his hard cock, resting heavily in the water between his spread thighs, one of his legs still hooked over yours. He feels your hand slide down over his front, wrapping around the solid length, and it’s his turn to gasp, your thumb finding the slit and caressing over it.

“Make me come, Frankie, I-I want you to fuck me h-here,” you pant, shaking under the way his fingers plunge in and out of your tight heat, “I want your cock inside me now, I don’t want to w-wait…oh fuck…”

He’s slipped out and added a third finger, pressing them deep inside you, moving his body to push you against the wall of the hot tub, your hand still gripping his hard, aching cock. His tongue invades your mouth, both of you moaning under the onslaught of pleasure rippling through your nerves. You’re further along, Frankie’s thumb teasing your clit in ever tightening circles while his fingers curl back. But it’s Frankie who breaks first, as his cock easily slips through your tight grip under the water, he curses in Spanish, pulling away from you.

“C’mere,” he growls and you gasp as his fingers slip out of you. He grabs your arms, turning you around easily and placing you on his lap, pushing your legs wide, hooking them over his knees, as you lean back against his chest. You feel the tip of his rigid cock at your entrance as he pulls you down, the slick heat of your core and the water making him slide in deep in one firm thrust. The impact, the way he hits a spot deep inside, makes you throw your head back, against his shoulder, and cry out his name. Frankie sees your hot breath steam into the cold air, mixing with the steam from the hot tub as you moan again. One hand on your hip to pull you down, he lets the other find your aching clit, teasing it with his fingers as he thrusts up into you. His cock his aching, every movement from you transplanting into every nerve ending along it, shooting up through his spine, his balls, his fucking finger tips, he swears he can feel you clenching tight around him even in his ear lobes.

His mouth is right next to your ear and he’s mumbling, slamming his hips up as much as the position lets him, “Such a tight fucking pussy, couldn’t wait another second, bebita, your hand…” he groans as another spams ripples through your body, he can feel how close you are, grinding your hips down against him with every thrust up, “fuck…you feel so fucking good,” he moans, “let me feel you come around my cock, just let me feel it, I’m so fu-fucking c-c-lose…”

You can feel his fingers dig into your hip, his mouth against your ear, his rough fingers caressing rough circles around your clit, building pressure.

“Frankie…” you whimper, your voice tight and strained, “I’m…”

Your orgasm hits you without warning, snapping every muscle in your body, Frankie feels you go rigid under his grip as you cry out his name again, it catches in your throat as he continues to grind up in to you, his fingers rubbing fast circles, pushing you forward, prolonging every waves that washes through you until you go limp. With a sob you slump back against him and he grabs your hips, pushing himself deep, once, twice, with a cry he thrusts in a third time and feels himself explode, pumping deep inside as your slowing spasms milk him dry.

You feel yourself relax in his arms, his grip tight, heart thrumming under your back as he pushes his face against the crook of your neck. You look up towards the night sky, trying to focus your eyes again, as every muscle in your body tingles with pleasure, coming down. Tendrils of steam are rising from the tub, your breath mingling with his, low pants and sloshing water the only sounds around you. You shiver as you realize most of your chest is out of the water, you’re still sitting on Frankie’s lap, but he notices and lifts you up, your body almost weightless in the water.

“C’mere, don’t get cold,” he mumbles, his voice soft and mellow, and he tucks you in under his arm, pulling you close into his side, kissing your cheek with his warm lips.

“Even before the outbreak, this would’ve been an absolutely perfect Christmas gift, Frankie,” you hum, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he draws another deep breath, his shoulders dropping, relaxing.

“Yeah, I would’ve gotten one of these for the house,” he says, lifting his hand and caressing the top of your head, his fingers trailing through your hair for a few minutes as you both let the warmth of the water soak through your muscles, relaxing you enough to slip even further down.

“I haven’t thought about life before the outbreak in a long time,” he mumbles after a while, a darker tone to his voice, “or where we would be if it hadn’t happened.”

“We’d still be together, Frankie, I know that. In our house, getting old, soaking in a hot tub.”

You see him give a small smile but his mind has turned to someone else.

“She’d be turning seventeen this spring…I wonder what she would look like,” Frankie’s fingers twitch in your hair as he tilts his head towards you, you feel the shift in his mood as clearly as if you were looking at his face.

“You know she’d be beautiful, Frankie, but more importantly, she’d be an incredible young woman with you as her dad,” you take his hand and stroke your thumb over the knuckles, a small soothing movement.

“It’s so unfair…I could've protected her, if only she’d been with me when the outbreak happened, I would’ve kept her safe,” he shifts so that he can turn himself more towards you, slipping down and leaning his head against your shoulder, his arm circling your waist to pull you even closer, “and none of all the shit I put you through would’ve happened, I would’ve been able to stay away from it with both of you alive.”

“You had to go through something no one should have to face, Frankie, you know I don’t blame you for any of it,” you whisper, letting your lips brush over his damp curls and you hear him let out a shaky breath.

“My first sponsor, back before Lucía was born, used to say that men like him and me need a focus in our lives, someone to protect or something to live for, to keep us straight. It might not be the best way, but it is what it is. And he told me I should let Lucía be my focus, and it worked.”

Frankie draws a deep breath and shrugs, “She was the reason, even before she was born, that I got clean. When I met you,” his hand wraps around yours under the water, “I knew that I didn’t need to put that burden on you, I could just be yours, be the man you deserve, and not let you deal with all my shit. She was going to keep my focus even if she didn’t even know it,” Frankie stops, and you hear the sob he tries to swallow back and you wrap your arms tighter around him as he digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer, pressing his face to your neck.

“When she…” he murmurs, and you can feel him shake his head, “I can’t…say it…”

“You don’t have to, Frankie, I know what you mean,” you press your lips against his head and he draws a deep breath, swallowing down another sob.

“After, at the cabin, I had to shift my focus to you…you were the only reason I didn’t walk into the lake. But I don’t want you to have to be the reason I stay clean, I should be able to do it anyway, it’s not your burden.”

“You know I’d do it all again, Frankie, I will happily help you carry your burden, as long as I get to have you alive and well with me, that’s all I ever want,” you sink down, cupping his face between your hands, finding his eyes with yours before you press your lips to his, “You’re my everything, Frankie,” you mumble, pulling back a little and looking at his tear filled eyes again, “You’re always my everything, you’re always going to be the most important person in my life, I’ll do whatever it takes, always,” you kiss him again, harder this time, pressing your love into him and you feel him wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Cariño,” he mumbles against your lips, “cariño, hermosa, eres todo para mí.” he brings his hands up to your face, his nose nudging yours as he kisses you again, “Siempre, siempre.”

He pulls you in, his mouth finding yours, soft lips pressed close, as he pulls you onto his lap again, “Always, I’m always yours.”

…

Winter seems to drag on forever, with no end in sight. You wish you had a weather channel on the useless tv that’s stored away in the garage. You’d love for a weatherman to explain to you why it’s mid-April and it’s still snowing, a thick layer on the ground.

“It’s the mountains, cariño,” Frankie explains for the fifth time as you grumble at the snow on yet another cold morning. “We’re so high up, even though we’re on the same latitude as Boston. And Boston has a coastal climate, Jackson has a continental climate, but we’re in a valley so I think, probably-”

“Frankie, I love you, but I don’t need another encyclopedic entry on why Jackson winters are so fucking long,” you sigh, shutting him up with a kiss that makes him grin at you as he tries to grab your butt.

“Fine, snow bad, sunshine good,” he chuckles, taking Jack from you. Jack’s grown a lot over the winter and totters around the house, forcing you to baby proof every low surface to prevent him from grabbing at anything within reach.

You long for warmer weather, for mild days where you can let Jack go outside without four layers of clothing, to be able to sit on the porch swing with Frankie and just rock back and forth. And, thankfully, it doesn’t take much longer for your wish to come true. It’s like someone flicked a switch. Freezing nights are replaced with mild spring showers, the snow melts, turning all the unpaved streets to mud, only to dry up as the sun returns a few days later. Suddenly the white world has turned dirty yellow and gray, and then bright green breaks through. It’s like an Arctic spring, over in a week, the mountain’s are still snow capped but the meadows are coated in fresh green grass and a riot of spring flowers.

Daffodils shoot up through the sparse grass in your backyard, the originally neat rows have multiplied over the years and taken over the lawn. You realize that whoever lived here before the outbreak must’ve planted them and now they spread their bright yellow shine all over what is now your garden. You pick bunches and decorate the house, fill every container you have with them, give more to Maria and Pat, even Ned and the horses get bunches for the stable, and still you have daffodils all over your lawn.

With spring all of Jackson is busy preparing for the new season, the first two green houses have been built over the winter, glass from dilapidated houses used to create two impressive structures. Now they’re filled with neat rows of planters and almost everyone takes turns tending them, overseen by a young man called Alwin, a self taught gardener with very green thumbs.

You still work in the kitchen though, food is always needed for the growing community and together with Alwin, you and the other kitchen manager have made plans for what plants to cultivate for maximum harvest.

You leave the community center and the kitchen behind one afternoon when spring has almost moved into early summer, Jack wobbling next to you. He loves to run but his legs aren’t really stable enough so you keep your hands ready to catch him as you follow his unsteady gait towards the stable. Frankie has been working on putting up an extension to the storage building, three foals had been born this spring and next winter more feed would be needed to keep all the horses well fed.

Frankie spots you and Jack as he jumps down from the hay loft, “Hey Jack, look at you go!” he calls to the grinning boy, and Jack speeds up, trying to run to Frankie.

“Da! Da!” he gurgles excitedly as you stop him from toppling over.

“Yeah, that’s your Da,” you laugh as Jack sets off again, tilting at a precarious angle. ‘Da’ could mean dad but also ‘horse’, ‘there’, ‘food’ or any number of things that might catch Jack’s eyes. But right now there’s no mistaking who he means as Frankie catches him and sweeps him up over his head in a big swing. Jack shrieks with laughter and Frankie spins him around an extra time before setting him on his hip, one arm securely around the boy’s back, as the other catches your waist, pulling you in so that he can kiss you as you put your hand behind his neck.

“You’re early,” he mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip and demanding another kiss, before he pulls back to look at you. His sweaty curls are unruly and flopping around his ears and forehead, his cap nowhere to be seen, and the spring sunshine has given him a tan, the tip of his nose slightly pink, and you have to give it a peck.

“We were done with planning and dinner is already sorted, so I thought we’d come surprise you,” you smile at him, “You really need a haircut, remind me tonight and I’ll give you a trim.”

“Sure, and I think Jack needs a trim too, either that or a hair tie,” Jack’s blonde curls are blowing in the wind and threatening to fall into his eyes but they are so cute that you’ve been putting off cutting them. Just like with Frankie’s curls, they were irresistible for wrapping around your fingers as you caress his soft head while he falls asleep.

“How’s the new building going?” you ask and Frankie turns to point up towards the roof.

“We just finish-”

You suddenly hear running footsteps from the main street and Josie, one of the people on guard duty today, comes rushing into the stable yard. You feel Frankie stiffen next to you, cutting himself off and instinctively reaching for his rifle that’s leaned against the stable wall.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Josie pants, taking a deep breath and wiping her forehead, “You need to come quick, there’s people at the gate!”

“Are we under attack?” Frankie lets go of you and grabs the rifle but Josie shakes her head.

“No, but people,” she says, “asking for you! Come on!” She turns and starts heading back the way she came and you glance over at Frankie, hope suddenly burning in your chest and you see that he’s had the same thought. With Jack still on his arm you both hurry after Josie.

By the time you get to the gate it’s already open and you see a patrol returning, horses, men and women, coming through.

And then you both see them at the same time, two tall blonde men on horseback, and your heart leaps. Will spots you and his face splits into a wide grin, throwing his leg over the horse and jumping down.

“Fish!!” Benny yells, startling everyone around him, but he’s ignorant of it, throwing himself off his horse, sprinting towards you both. You laugh as you see Eve throw her hands in the air at being left on the horse as Benny takes off, behind him you see Will help Diana off her horse.

Benny stops short a few feet in front of Frankie, looking from him to Jack and back again, Jack’s big blue eyes are staring at Benny.

“Fish, I swore I’d fu-..” he bites his tongue, looking at Jack, “I swore I’d smack you, when we found you, but you’re holding a baby,” Benny blinks at Jack, looks over at you, and back at Frankie, “You have a baby?!”

“Come here, dumbass,” Frankie laughs, stepping over to Benny and giving him a one armed hug, “So fucking good seeing you, we were starting to get worried.”

Will grins as he reaches you and picks you up in a bear hug that makes you giggle, wrapping your arms around his thick neck.

“Fuck, I missed you Will, missed you so much,” you smile, willing yourself to not start crying as he puts you back on your feet.

“Missed you too,” he grins and takes a step towards Frankie, smacking him on his shoulder, getting his attention away from Benny, who lets go of him. The two men hug, you see Frankie blink his eyes rapidly, clapping Will on the back, but then Benny grabs you, picking you up just as high as Will and shaking you back and forth in his iron grip.

“So fucking good to see you!” he laughs, squeezing you tight enough to make you tap his shoulder.

“Missed you too Benny, but jeez, let me breathe please,” you laugh, your feet a clear foot off the ground.

“Come one, give her a break,” Diana chuckles, and you find yourself being hugged by both women, your tears starting to drip, you don’t think you’ve felt this happy in a long time and Benny wraps his long arms around the three of you.

“Great place you’ve got her, but did you have to move to the other side of the fucking country?” he says, grinning down at you as you wipe at your eyes.

Will and Frankie join you and Will tucks his arm around your waist next to Diana as you all stand in a tight little group, grinning at each other, not quite believing that you’re all here.

“So who’s this little guy?” Benny asks, putting his finger out for Jack to grab.

“Long story,” Frankie says, “but we met his mother on the way here, she was dying unfortunately, so we took care of him. She told us her brother was out in Wyoming with a group of people, that’s how we met these guys,” he gestures at the patrol dispersing around them.

“And now he’s ours,” you smile down at the grinning baby, “His name’s Jack, named after his uncle, but unfortunately he died before we found him, so we felt kinda responsible for little baby Jack.”

“He’s adorable,” Diana says, smiling at Jack and getting a toothy grin back, “And being parents suits you,” she says, “you guys look happy.”

“Yeah, you do, happy and healthy,” Will says, looking at Frankie who dips his eyes to his boots, reaching out and taking hold of your hand before he looks back up.

“We are…I am, really happy, and healthy,” he smiles, glancing over at you, “I’ll tell you all about it later, but yeah, I’m doing really good, better than ever I think.”

“Good to hear, man,” Benny says with a grin, clapping Frankie on the shoulder.

Maria approaches the group with a smile, looking at the newcomers.

“I take it these are your friends from Boston?” she says, holding out her hand and introducing herself to them all.

“I’m going to guess you’ve had a pretty long and rough journey so I’ll let these two take care of you tonight,” she nods at Frankie and you with a smile, “I can imagine you have a lot of catching up to do too. I’ve assigned all of you to the house across the street from the Morales’ for now, but there’s another empty house if you’d rather live separately with your partners.”

“Thank you very much, “ Will says, “We really appreciate it, thanks for letting us come here, taking us in like this.”

“Oh, we’ll make you work for it, don’t worry,” Maria grins, giving you all a wave before she walks off.

“C’mon,” Frankie says, “Let us show you your house and then we’ll sort dinner at our house.”

“I cannot believe you have a fucking house, Fish,” Benny grins as the six of you, and baby Jack, set off down the street.

“Yeah, I’m getting used to it now but it was weird the first few months,” Frankie says, “and then we got electricity, we managed to fix the dam last year, and it started feeling like normal life again.”

“You’ve got hot water?” Eve asks, you can hear the hope in her voice and it makes you laugh, you remember the feeling of the first hot shower you had once the electricity was working again.

“We do indeed,” you say, smiling at her as she bounces on the balls of her feet, “and lots of it.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to drown myself in a hot shower….” she sighs and Benny hooks his arm around her shoulders.

“You n’ me both, babe,” he grins, “together and-”

“And maybe we really should look into that other house Maria mentioned,” Will interrupts, as you and Diana laugh, “I am not sharing a house with my baby bro again.”

“Don’t worry,” you smile, “I’ll ask Maria which one it is tomorrow. There are still plenty of empty houses around Jackson.”

“This is us,” Frankie says, as you all arrive on your street, and he points to the dark green house that’s now yours, “And you guys are in this one, for as long as you want.” He points across the street to a pale yellow wooden house with a porch similar to the one that wraps around your house.

“Nice, very nice, you guys!” Benny is already pulling Eve by the hand towards the yellow house and you all follow them inside. It’s sparsely decorated but clean, most of what the previous owner left behind is still here.

“There should be clean towels and sheets upstairs and I’ll get you soap and shampoo from the community center,” Frankie says, showing them all around as you get the fire going in the living room and turn on the heating.

“It’ll take a while for the water to heat up but the rooms should start getting warm straight away,” you say to Will as he wanders into the living room again. You stand up and put the fire guard in front of the fireplace and he comes over and puts his arm around your shoulder with a smile.

“It’s really good to see you two again,” he says, looking down at you, “seeing Frankie doing so well, he looks like a new man.”

“Will, I’m really sorry we took off without saying anything to any of you, especially right after Santi…”

“I know, I get it,” he interrupts, “If you’d come to me and told me what you planned, I would’ve stopped you, or probably gone with you. I know you did the only thing you could to save Frankie, he needed to get away from Boston, from Joel, he wasn’t strong enough to withstand it.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to leave Diana behind, or bring her on a really risky venture,” you take his arm and lead him to the couch in front of the fireplace and you both sit down, “I know how loyal you and Benny are to Frankie, but I…I couldn’t risk your lives, or Diana and Eve’s, for Frankie’s problems.”

“Yeah…” Will sighs, “I understand, I would’ve done the same, if Benny had those problems, I’d do anything, but I wouldn’t want anyone else to risk their lives.” He nods, looking over at the fire that’s spreading warmth across the room, “He’s lucky to have you, what you did…” he looks over at you again and gives you a crooked smile, “you’ve saved his life more times than he even knows.”

“I know,” Frankie says and you both look up, he’s standing at the doorway, looking at you with a warm smile. “I know I owe her everything, even from before the outbreak, she was always way more than what someone like me deserves.” He comes over and sinks down onto the couch next to you and pulls you in under his arm, “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“Good, I’m glad you know it, or I would’ve had to let Benny knock some sense into you,” Will grins

“I keep telling you, you deserve a lot more than what you think, Frankie,” you say, leaning into him. His soft brown eyes look down at you and there’s a hint that maybe he’s starting to believe you, after all these years as he smiles. You can’t resist, even though Will is sitting right next to you, you reach up and press your lips to his, and you can feel him nip at your bottom lip. Will clears his throat, but chuckles as he shifts in his seat.

“Keep that shit in your own house, please.”

“Yeah, you’ve got an entire house to yourselves, please keep that out of my house,” Benny snorts as he walks into the room, baby Jack snuggled on his hip.

“I see you’ve made a friend,” you laugh as Jack happily tugs at Benny’s long hair.

“Yeah, he’s a cool little bean,” Benny grins as he carefully unfurls Jack's chubby little fingers, “and with a killer grip, ouch, little man, give me a break!”

“He used to tug at Frankie’s beard all the time,” you say, “he had to keep it short or Jack would rip all of it out.”

“And I know, I didn’t have much to start with,” Frankie says, “I’m just saying it before any of you point it out.”

His remark makes you all laugh and Jack happily joins in.

“I think the water is hot enough now, so I’m jumping in the shower,” Diana says from the doorway, “and there’s shampoo and soap and everything up stairs too.”

“I’ll come with you, honey,” Will says and pushes himself off the couch.

“We’ll let you guys get cleaned up, settle in,” Frankie looks over at you as Benny hands you Jack, “we’ll get dinner sorted so just come over whenever you’re ready, you know where we are.”

…

You glance out through your kitchen window as you chop some fresh buckram for the chicken, you can see Benny through the window of the other house, pulling a hoodie over his t-shirt as he talks to Eve. It feels surreal, but also like the most natural thing in the world, to have them here, in a normal world, finally. To have your best friends, and Frankie’s best friends, living across the street, cooking dinner for them, looking forward to a long evening of catching up.

Behind you Frankie comes into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, the tip of his nose pressed against your neck.

“Jack’s asleep, out like a light,” he murmurs, “too much excitement I think.”

“We should hire Benny as a nanny,” you smile, “they were great together.”

“Yeah, Benny was always great with kids, probably because he’s a big kid himself,” Frankie chuckles, “I’ll go let them in,” he says as you see the four of them leave their house, Eve gives you both a big wave as they spot you in the kitchen window.

You hear them tumble into the house, Benny is telling some story about deer and even though your back is against them you can sense Will’s exasperated eye roll at his brother.

You put the tray in the oven and clean your hands, grab the whiskey bottle Frankie has left on the kitchen table and follow the noise into the living room.

“So tell us, what took you so long to get here?” Frankie asks, pulling glasses from a cabinet, “and what happened to the radio, all we heard was that FEDRA shut it down.”

“FEDRA was listening in, like we suspected,” Will says, “They came in the next morning before Sean even got there and took everything, equipment, notes, spare parts, left nothing.” Will takes a glass of whiskey from Frankie and groans as he sips it.

“Good stuff, Fish…” he takes another sip, “And we had to run, we got a tip off from Sean’s grandkid that they were coming for us, were gonna take us for planning on leaving the QZ. We grabbed our bags and got out, didn’t plan anything, wasn’t time.”

“Shit,” Frankie mutters, “surprised you even got out of Boston like that.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy,” Will shakes his head, “we got caught just outside the wall, had to take down a couple of FEDRA soldiers and Benny was grazed by a bullet.”

“It was nothing,” Benny scoffs, “I’ve had much worse, and on the bright side, we got their guns and ammo, made things easier down the line.”

“Yeah, we ran into a bunch of raiders who tried to ambush us,” Will continues, “took them out and stole their truck, a FEDRA truck they must’ve stolen from a patrol. We made it pretty far in that but winter hit early in Nebraska, the roads were impassable and we couldn’t continue. So we decided to stay at an isolated farm we found, way off the main highway. It was untouched, full of supplies, the luckiest fucking find of my life, it saved us,” Will shakes his head, looking over at Diana, “it got pretty rough for a while there, before we found it.”

Diana nods, taking his hand in hers, “I don’t think we’d be here if Will hadn’t scouted ahead and found it. Eve and I were starving, didn’t have clothes for the cold, but Will got us through it, saved us.”

“Ironhead lived up to his nickname,” Benny grins, but he’s looking at his brother with a rare softness, “I was starting to give up on us just as he came back, middle of a fucking blizzard, barely any shelter, couldn’t light a fire in all the snow, we were all freezing. Di’s right, if Will hadn’t found that farm, we wouldn’t have made it.”

“Alright, tell us how you got here, Fish,” Will shrugs, changing the subject and taking a deeper sip of the whiskey.

Frankie gives Will a shrug in return, “It was rough, but we got here easier than you I think. We took that car we had stashed, and got pretty far in it. But we…I…” he looks over at you and you put your arm around his waist, giving him a small hug, “I had to stop, the withdrawals got too bad…she had to take care of me while I got it out of my system. After that we got half way through Nebraska, where we found Jack and his mom, and then almost all the way before we ran out of gas. Walked for two days before Maria and Pat found us.”

“I know I yelled at you over the radio,” Benny says, looking serious, “but I’m glad you guys left, even the way you did it, and I’m really fucking glad you got through it. I just wish you’d fucking told us how bad it got before it got that bad.”

Frankie nods, looking at the toes of his boots as he usually does, but then he draws a deep breath and lifts his eyes and meets Benny’s gaze, “Yeah, I should’ve told you all, right from the start, I knew you guys would have my back, but I was too ashamed, just too ashamed of admitting how bad it got,” he looks over at you, you’ve still got your arm around him and meets your eyes with a steady look, “I was afraid she’d think I was too much work, how fucked up I was, and finally give up on me,” Frankie leans forwards and presses his forehead against yours, “but now I know she’ll never give up on me.”

You smile and cup his cheek, letting your thumb stroke his scruffy beard, “Never Frankie.”

Frankie gives you a small smile before he sits up straight again and his eyes go dark, losing some of the softness they just had.

“One of us is missing,” he says, glancing around the room, “and it’s my fault. Pope should be here now too, but I failed him, I fucked up and he had to pay for it.” Frankie’s voice wavers before he draws a deep breath, you can see how he digs his fingernails into the palm of his hand. “I think about him every day, how much I miss him, h-how good it would be to have him here.”

His voice breaks and you can feel tears filling up your eyes as you reach out and take his hand, unfurling his tight fist, smoothing it out under your fingertips.

“You know Pope would be proud of you for how far you’ve come,” Will says, “you were always his brother, and because of it, he was always the hardest on you when you fell back into it. But now, Frankie…he’d be so happy and proud of you, with your wife, and baby Jack.”

Benny suddenly stands up, pulling Eve with him, raising his glass.

“We need to make toast, to Pope,” he says, looking around at all of you as you get to your feet. Frankie puts his arm around your shoulders as you lean into him, your arm around his waist, holding him tight.

“We should all say something to him,” Benny raises his glass higher, “we never got a chance to send him off back in Boston, but now we’re all here, together again, and safe, we should say something.”

“Go first then Benny,” Will says, motioning to his brother and Benny looks into the distance, gathering his thoughts before he begins.

“Pope, you could be the most annoying fucker ever, but the best wingman I’ve ever had, from the first day we met back in basic, to the very last. I miss you man, but I’ll see you again.” Benny fights to keep his voice steady and draws a deep breath before he looks over at Will.

He rubs his hand over his face before he slowly nods, “Santiago, you drove me fucking insane with your crazy plans, but somehow you always knew what you were doing and I learned to trust you and your instinct, it never failed us. My greatest failure is letting you down at the end, I hope we meet again so you can tell me how we should’ve gotten you out in time. I miss you brother,” Will looks up at the ceiling, raising his glass and you all do the same.

Frankie draws a deep breath, he doesn’t know how he’ll keep his shit together for this, but he needs to do it, with everyone here, it feels like Pope is listening.

“Hermano,” he begins, looking up at a vague spot on the wall, gathering his thoughts, before he feels tears well up in his eyes and he has to draw a deep breath, “hermano…I fucking miss you, miss you so fucking much. And…I…I have so many things I wish I’d done differently…but I did what you said the last time we talked. I got past it, with her help, and I did it for you, and for her. You said we’re family and I really wish Jack could meet his tio Santi. But I know you have a job to do, wherever you are, and I know you’re looking out for her until I’m there to see her again,” Frankie pauses, drawing a deep breath, his eyes overflowing as he looks down at his toes, “Tell her, her dad loves her. Te quiero, hermano.”

He raises his glass, taking your hand in his, holding it tight, and the others do the same, “For Santiago Garcia, the best brother anyone of us could ask for, for lost friends, for family, and for a better life.”

“For Santiago,” echoes around the room and you sip the sharp whiskey, letting it burn on the way down. You feel Frankie’s eyes on you and as you meet his eyes he leans closer, his lips finding yours, pressing warm and soft against your mouth.

“For family,” he whispers.

Epilogue

So here we are, at the end. As in most stories, the story continues, but outside the frame. There is an epilogue coming too, but this is where the story ends. I am pretty emotional about writing the very end of this, it's been with me since April and I never thought then that it would grow so much in scope, in length. I love these two fools so much and I love how much in love they are, how through it all it's what keeps the two of them together and fighting for the other one. It's very hard to say good bye to them and I'll miss them so much! But I think I'll have to update the intro to this story to help any new readers tackle it! I think I'm close to hitting 300k words… Thank you everyone for all your comments, your reblogs, your love, your encouragement and support! It's a cliche, but I never could've kept going if you all hadn't kept cheering me on, saying so many lovely things about the story and making me want to keep sharing the ideas in my head. Love you all!

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

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request: Chapter 2

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ (minors DNI) | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2.4k

fic summary: Hot Construction Guy is the bane of your existence - he seems to only pop up at the worst possible moment for you, every time you see him.  There’s no way there could be something more there.

Right?

chapter tags/warnings: banter, my mediocre attempt at describing construction equipment (lol), mention of bra a/n: yes this is based on the time there was construction where I work and I, like reader, discovered what this thing was for the first time.

Chapter 2

Friday, September 6 Second week of the semester

Two days later, you’d almost forgotten the parking garage incident. (That was not remotely true — you’d complained about it and Hot Construction Guy so much that Beth had declared the topic officially banned. Until you saw him again and you had “new material”, anyway. Not likely, you’d scoffed.)

You’d restocked your office deodorant, stashed a few back-up t-shirts, and you were generally feeling more amiable towards the world as you sat down to catch up on some grading for your freshman seminar course after your office hours on Friday afternoon. You’d carefully arranged your coffee, laptop, and notepad on your desk, and were just about to open up the first student’s assignment when it started.

BAM

The loud sound reverberated so loudly through the halls of your building that you actually saw your cup of pens vibrate a few millimeters to the right on your desk. 

BAM

You blinked. You swore you saw dust shiver up from the surface of your bookshelves and dance in the air with the force of the sound.

BAM

BAM

Your framed diploma rattled on the wall behind you and one of your plants vibrated threateningly towards the edge of the windowsill along the same wall. You caught it and put it on the floor. 

BAM

You groaned. There was no way you’d be able to work through this. The pens on your desk had started to roll around, for fuck’s sake, and you’d just watched one of your books do a little jump towards the edge of your desk. What could possibly make that much noise? You stood up and moved to your door, poking your head into the hallway. Your neighbors on either side, Jillian and Greg, were doing the same. You all silently raised your eyebrows at each other and then shrugged in unison. Clearly they didn’t know what it was, either. 

BAM

You ventured out, heading towards the source of the sound. You heard the two of them start to chat about their shared course behind you as they followed more slowly. You weren’t the only ones heading curiously towards the lobby of the building, which was just at the end of your hall of offices. As you turned the corner and looked through the large front windows of the building, you realized the sound wasn’t coming from inside at all, despite its volume and power. It wasn’t even something on the steps up to the building. It was coming from the south side of the quad — your building sat on the west side, on the same corner, not far away at all — in the construction zone for the new library. They’d started building it last semester and weren’t anywhere close to finished with it yet. 

BAM

BAM

The machine that was making all the noise was easily 20 or 30 feet tall, maybe more. As it came into view, you realized it was some sort of ludicrously enormous industrial hammer… thing? Whatever it was, it was dropping a massive weight from the top of its little… chute, straight down towards the ground, apparently hammering in what looked like spikes? Beams? You shook your head and crossed your arms. You weren’t usually at such a loss for words, even in your own head. Jillian and Greg arrived and stepped up next to you and you all stood almost pressed against the glass of the windows to watch. 

BAM

“Anyone get an email about any construction?” Jillian squinted at the hammer thing. 

“Nope,” Greg huffed. “But really, do we ever?”

“Good point,” you agreed. “This is like, a whole new level of noise, though.” They both nodded. 

BAM

“They were supposed to start at 5,” a new voice added from behind you. It was Claire, the chair of your department. “They just told me about it yesterday, but it wasn’t supposed to be during regular hours.” She frowned, and then sighed. “It’s only lunchtime.”

“Should we ask them about it?” Greg spoke up to suggest it, but you knew there was no chance of him actually doing it himself. The man could dodge confrontation like it was a sport and he was the reigning world champ in the weight-class of mild, unassuming academics. You met Jillian’s eyes and knew they were thinking the same thing. You smirked but turned before Greg could see it. 

You replied, “I’ll go. I need to know if I should bother to stay here and try to grade or just head home.” Your Friday classes were over before lunch, and they all knew it. (Greg was jealous, but he’d never admit it. Too confrontational.) Claire nodded, gesturing you forward. 

“Be right back.”

BAM

As you opened the door, you realized that, against all odds, it was actually possible for the noise to get even louder. It felt like it was rattling your brain down into your spine, drowning out the sounds around you as you walked on a short diagonal path to the library construction site. The quad was criss-crossed with seemingly random paved paths that followed the natural walking paths formed in the grass, and this diagonal one led you straight from the steps of your building to the center of the site. Before you could even get to the other sidewalk, though, a man in the typical construction outfit — plus safety goggles and some sort of headphones — noticed you and walked over to intercept.

BAM

“Sorry, ma’am, can’t come this way right now. You’ll have to use the other paths.” You were already opening your mouth to ask about the noise when his voice hit you and you realized just who he was under all of the protective equipment. You reacted before you could stop yourself.

“You! Again!” You belatedly realized you were pointing at him like this was some sort of dramatic reveal in a murder mystery. You had no idea when your arm had even raised. You dropped it quickly and stuffed your hand in your pocket.

BAM

He stopped short, and considered you before removing his headphones. “Looks like.” His voice was loud, shouting over the banging noise that was rattling your eardrums from this close. You rolled your eyes, but told yourself to take a deep breath. “Let’s move this back to the other path,” he continued. He started to herd you in that direction, keeping himself between you and the construction site as you moved backwards. 

“No, I was going to… Look, we were told this noise wouldn’t start up until the end of the day.” You tried not to say it like an accusation — you’d already accused this random stranger of enough weird stuff this week — but it probably came out that way anyway. He nodded, eyebrows furrowed.

“Had a change in schedule. Some issues with deliveries and the work plan for the next few days.” You waited a beat, but he didn’t say anything else. No other information seemed to be forthcoming.

BAM

“That’s it? How long is it going to go on?” You knew you sounded annoyed, but really? He shook his head. “Maybe a few more hours? Hard to say.” Hours? You thought it, and apparently couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. 

“Hours?! Are you serious?” He nodded. “It’s the middle of the day!” He shrugged. “That’s it?” He nodded again, starting to herd you back again, but you cut him off. “No, seriously, that’s it? There are classes right now, and—” He sighed, and looked over his shoulder towards the construction site, where the hammer thingy was still banging away. 

BAM

“I’m sorry, darlin’, there’s nothing I can do about it.” He did at least look sorry, as he removed his protective glasses. Up close you saw that his brow was furrowed in concern and he tried to gesture for you to back up again. You suddenly realized you were bothering some guy on the crew with something he probably had no control over, while he was just concerned for your safety. You sighed. “No, I know, sorry. Look, can you tell your boss or whoever to at least let us know next time?” 

For some reason this request amused him, and his smirk in response annoyed you. “What?” Your tone had become snappish again and you were ready for this conversation to be over.

“Nothing. I’ll be sure to let him know.” He smirked around this reply like it was the funniest thing he’d heard all day, but you didn’t have the patience to try to find out why. 

BAM 

BAM 

“Ok! Ok. Just— fine. I’ll let everyone know. Thank you.” You needed to get out of there before you took out your frustration on this random contractor guy. Again. (Hot Construction Guy, Beth’s voice said in your head.) You turned on your heel and started to head back in the building. For a second it seemed like he might have wanted to reach a hand out to catch your arm, but he didn’t, and you had no idea why you even thought he might’ve.

BAM

At the top of the stairs into the building, you turned, and saw that he had drifted closer to stand right at the bottom, trailing after you. You found yourself in the same position you’d been in the other day and you almost tripped in surprise before steadying yourself with the railing. “What’s that godawful thing called anyway?” His mouth stretched into a grin. You watched smile lines crinkle around his eyes and tried to get a grip on yourself.

“A pile driver.”

“You’re kidding.” The name distracted you from admiring him, at least. He snorted and shook his head at your incredulous tone. “There’s actually a real thing called a pile driver? I thought it was just a euphemism.” You could see he was trying to tamp down on his grin but failing.

He shrugged. “Nope, that’s the real thing.” He gestured behind himself with one hand. You rolled your eyes and turned towards the door. 

“Of course it is. Ok. Bye.”

BAM

The pile driver (you snorted to yourself) helpfully punctuated your exit from the conversation as you entered your building again. A larger crowd had gathered by that point, and they all groaned in unison when you announced the hours of noise still ahead of you. 

You headed back to your office as the crowd split off into grumbling, agitated smaller groups, ready to pack your stuff and go home. To your great displeasure, Trevor the Brit Lit Prick fell into step with you. You held off from rolling your eyes by sheer force of will.

“Didn’t you tell him we needed less noise?” Trevor’s sneering, haughty tone immediately pressed every single of one of your buttons, just like it always did. What a prick. “I can’t help but notice that the sound is still happening.” You took a deep breath.

“Trevor, they said there was a scheduling issue.”

He tutted. Actually fucking tutted at you, like some kind of old-timey schoolteacher in a movie. “You should have informed him that this is unacceptable.”

“Well, Trevor, you’re welcome to give it a try yourself.” Before you could say anything stupid to the man currently overseeing the committee that decided approval for all new courses, you added, tone as even as you could manage, “he said there was nothing he could do.” 

With that, you opened the door to your office, sang a cheerful, “bye, Trevor!” and closed it in his face. Perhaps with a little more force than was really necessary, but Trevor really was a prick.

As you closed the door, though, the pile driver sent another BAM echoing through the building, and the combination of the noise and your door shutting at the same time visibly shook the walls of your office. You watched as your framed photo with your niece, Ellie, vibrated right off the wall. 

The glass in the frame shattered all over the floor. 

The frustrated noise you let out in response was, at least, drowned out by the next BAM. Small mercies.

…

you (1:14 PM): guess who I just saw again

bestie (1:21 PM): HCG?? 👀

you (1:22 PM): this time with a fucking pile driver

bestie (1:25 PM): … is that euphemism

you (1:26 PM): sadly no there’s actually a fucking pile driver at the construction site for the library. it’s making more noise that I imagined any piece of equipment could ever make and I was nominated to go check it out (1:26 PM): and guess who was standing there, ready to direct me away from it

bestie (1:27 PM): and???

you (1:27 PM): and nothing! (1:28 PM): he couldn’t do anything and smirked at me when I told him to tell his boss to schedule better next time. like an asshole. AND he called me ‘darlin’ again

bestie (1:29 PM): was he really being an asshole or are you just embarrassed about flashing him still

you (1:31 PM): ok rude (1:31 PM): and it was just my bra

bestie (1:31 PM): so it’s the second one then

you (1:32 PM): RUDE (1:32 PM): who’s side are you ON here beth

bestie (1:33 PM): the side that gets you to give HCG your number next time (1:33 PM): since he clearly works on campus and he’s around all the time (1:34 PM): and he’s “exactly your type”

you (1:35 PM): 🙄 (1:36 PM): I doubt he’s into me I’m just some annoying professor who yelled at him for no reason (1:36 PM): twice (1:38 PM): I ran into trevor after too

bestie (1:38 PM): ugh (1:38 PM): that prick

you (1:39 PM): he tutted at me (1:39 PM): like an actual tutting noise

bestie (1:40 PM): how is he always such a prick

you (1:42 PM): pretty sure he was born with it

…

you (3:08 PM): [video of pile driver operating, loud BAMs clearly audible]

Ellie (3:17 PM): whoa (3:17 PM): wtf is that

you (3:19 PM): a pile driver, apparently

Ellie (3:21 PM): what!! 💀 (3:21 PM): no fucking way

you (3:22 PM): way. it’s so loud it knocked our picture off my office wall

Ellie (3:23 PM): 👿 is it broken

you (3:24 PM): yeah ugh there was glass everywhere (3:24 PM): I have to get a new frame

Ellie (3:26 PM): 👿 you better fix it

you (3:27 PM): 🙄 I will you little gremlin

...

a/n: I'm trying a new thing with the texting to make it easier to read. let me know what you think? see you next Friday for chapter 3! prev | next

tag list: @jupiter-soups (let me know if you want to be in the tag list)

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 6

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Well,” said Danny.  “That sucked a lot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Daniel.”

“It’s just… What even was the plan there?” he asked the ceiling over the couch.  “What were they doing?  Did they think I wouldn’t notice if they just switched out while I was sleeping?  Were they going to run the entirety of their council through while trying to distract me with stuff?  Why did they even want to do that instead of just picking two of them?”

“I believe they wished to escape any specific, personal responsibility for you,” said Clockwork.  

“Typical,” said Danny.  “Are any of these people going to not lie to me?”

“I could not say.  May I offer you some lunch?”

“Yeah.”  Danny rolled off the couch.  “What’ve you got?”

“Grilled cheese and soup,” said Clockwork.  “I also have apples.”

“That sounds good.  I’m, um, I’m not going back out right away.  I can wait until morning, right?”

“As I said, you can wait here for as long as you want.”

Danny nodded.  “It’s just… I don’t know, it’s just occurred to me that I don’t really know what else is here.  Like, I’ve been in this room, and the kitchen, and my bedroom and bathroom, but not anywhere else here.  If there is anywhere else.  Did you decorate this place?”

Clockwork sighed.  “I asked a friend for help,” he admitted.  “They have an interesting sense of humor.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Danny, nodding.  

“I don’t suppose you would like a tour after lunch?”  There was a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.  

“Yeah, that sounds like it’d be nice.”

.

There actually wasn’t that much to the little house beyond what Danny had already seen.  There was a little workshop, a formal dining room (currently set up for tea), another bathroom, and a small bedroom that looked as if it had never been slept in.  

“Do you need to sleep?” asked Danny.  

“Only once in a great while.  I will not need to do so for quite some time.”

“What do you do in the workshop?”

“I have an interest in repairing clocks.  The workshop is there to give me something to do while you are away.”

“That makes sense,” said Danny, trying to muffle a yawn that slipped out with his words.  

“You’ve had a trying day.  Why don’t you take a nap?  I will wake you for dinner.”

“Is that really alright?” asked Danny.  “I feel bad, leaving you just sort of stuck here by yourself.”

Clockwork shrugged.  “It is no imposition on me.  You could also avail yourself of one of the books in the library, or one of the ones you brought back from Jasmine’s.”

“Didn’t I leave those there?”

“They were presented to you as yours.  As such, they now are.  Of course, you also retain the things the Observants gifted you.”

“Including the video games?” asked Danny.  

“Including those, yes.”

“Huh.  I’m not secretly an Observant, am I?  I know you said my appearance was changed, but I don’t think I could handle going from this to being an Observant.”

“I cannot tell you that, Daniel.”

“Right.  The rules.  Bleh.  Bet the Observants made them to give themselves an advantage.  They even put themselves on top of the list!  Losers.”

Clockwork patted Danny’s shoulder.  “That they did.”

Danny nodded, then started yawning again.  He blinked hard and looked around the little workshop.  “Maybe I could just watch you or something?  I need an actual break from thinking after Jazz and the Observants.”

Clockwork nodded.  “As you would.”

.

Dinner, naturally, was great.  Breakfast was good, too, but Danny felt as if he wasn’t fully appreciating it on account of the massive weight of having to choose the next person to spend who-knows-how-long with while having nothing more than a single, mostly empty, piece of paper to learn about them.  

“What if they all suck?” asked Danny.  

“I thought you liked Jasmine,” said Clockwork as he handed over a cheese omelet with sausages.

“I liked her, but she was lying to me.  I don’t like that.”

“A reasonable enough objection.  However, a lack of honesty can be surmounted more easily than a lack of trust.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” complained Danny.  

“For example, I am being less than honest with you by refusing to tell you certain things, but you still trust me more than the Observants.”

“Not telling me stuff is different than lying to me.”

“And yet, the English language does include the phrase ‘lie of omission.’”

“It's still different.”

“And you also trust Jasmine more than the Observants.”

“That's true,” said Danny.  ��But that's also partially because she sucks so much at lying.  Maybe it's just that young people are bad at lying.  But I feel like I'm better at lying, and I'm younger than Jazz, right?  Otherwise she couldn't adopt me.”

“That is the generally accepted way of things.”

“Hm,” said Danny.  “Maybe I'll do something closer to the middle.  But not exactly the middle!  That's what they'd want me to do.”

“I suspect the Observants expected you to simply go from the top of the list and be dazzled by their apparent wealth.”

“Yeah, probably.  Still, it’s kind of funny to joke about.  Like the brain thing with Jazz.  But if I’m going to basically pick who I’m going with based on zero information, I might as well have the funniest reason possible for who I pick.  Like, maybe I should pick this guy with a really weird name.

“Weird how?”  

“He's got a bunch of them.  Vladimir ‘Vlad’ Masters-Plasmius, Ceo Mastersoft, Ceo Vladco, Ceo– Wait, these are his job titles, aren't they?”  He squinted at the page.  “Who does this?

“Vlad Masters-Plasmius, presumably.  But I believe that among his titles you have missed the name of the second person under that entry.”

“Really?”  He ran his finger down the list.  “Huh, yeah, this last one is separated out by a semicolon, I didn’t notice that.  The Dairy King.  Is that like the restaurant?”

“You will have to ask them when you see them,” said Clockwork.  

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I guess so.  It’d make these interests make more sense.  You’d have to be pretty business savvy to run all those restaurants.”

“You don’t think the person who listed all their CEO titles is business savvy or interested in business?”

“Not if he lists it like that.  That’s definitely overcompensating.  Like, it’s way too, uh, what’s the world.”  He whirled his fork in the air.  “Boastful.  People who have real skills don’t need to brag that much.”

“People from any level of skill may find occasion to brag.”

“Well, yeah, but not that much.  Right?  Vlad’s probably the football guy.”

“Again, you will have to find out when you join them.  Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”  Danny picked up his plate and put it in the sink.

“And you want to visit Vladimir and the Dairy King?”

“Yeah.  The others sound more normal, so I’ll save them for later.  Better to get all the really strange ones out of the way, right?”

“That is, again, your own choice.”

“I knew you’d say that,” he said.  He spread out his arms.  “Take me away, then.”

The portal whirled into being around him and deposited him in a green and gold atrium.  It had a passing similarity to the Observant’s foyer, but was more colorful.  It also had more football in it.  Like, literally it had more football in it, in the form of several footballs in glass cases.

Maybe ‘Plasmius’ or ‘Masters’ or some other part of this guy’s name had something to do with football.  At least a football Obsession would be… well… it would be something. 

Yeah.  

“Daniel!” said a tall, silver-haired man, spreading his arms in welcome.  He wore a slick suit.  “It’s so good to see you.  I am Vlad Masters-Plasmius, your godfather.”

“Oh, hi,” said Danny.  He looked around.  “Isn’t there supposed to be another one of you?  The Dairy King?”

“Ah, yes,” said Vlad, looking to the side.  “My grandfather.  He will certainly join us shortly.  Normally, it would just be me here, but I must confess that I am not what you would call a great cook.  I can avoid poisoning myself, but my grandfather is much better, and he’s agreed to help.”

“That’s nice of him,” said Danny, deciding to close the rest of the distance between himself and Vlad.  “So, is the football stuff yours or his?”

“Mine.  I’m something of a fan of the Packers.”  

“That’s Green Bay’s team, right?” asked Danny, trying to bring a fuzzy memory into focus. 

“It is!  Are you interested in football?”

Danny shrugged.  “I’ve not seen any games that I remember.”

“Something we’ll have to remedy.  I have my favorite games recorded, and a theater to watch them in.  It isn’t the same as seeing them live, but it will give you an idea of their flavor.”  He patted Danny’s shoulder and guided him towards a staircase.  “Come, now, I have much to show you.  I’m sure you’re wondering how I came to be so wealthy.”

“Not really,” said Danny.  “The last place I was at was bigger.”

“Pardon.”

“Also, you’re like the CEO of a dozen companies, and your grandfather is the Dairy King.  Like the restaurant.  You probably inherited a bunch, then went to school for business or something and made investments.”

“Ah, I see.  I didn’t realize you were… so aware of the normal progression of such things.”

“What I’m really interested in is how you know me, seeing as I’m a ghost and you’re human.  You said you’re my godfather.  So… How did that happen?  Did you know me when I was alive?  Did you know my actual parents?”

“When you were alive?” asked Vlad with raised eyebrows.  “My dear boy, did no one tell you?  You are alive.  You’re a half ghost, just like me.”

“People did tell me, I’m just not sure that I–  Wait, you, too?”

“Indeed.  You and I are the only ones to die in… that specific way.”  He stopped walking and looked away from Danny.  “Forgive me.  It is difficult for me to speak of it, even now.”  He shook himself and continued on, down the hall.  “As for your parents, well…  They are no longer with us, I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  “I guess that makes some sense, with this trial thing and all.”  In the abstract, though, it was better than them being abusive or something.  In the abstract.  “Did I have any other, um, family?  Other than you?”

“You have two sisters.  One older, one younger.  Rather fiery, both of them.  But the younger has her own arrangements, and the elder is old enough, and human enough, that this process isn’t necessary for her.”

“Is the older one named Jazz?”

“You’ve met her already?  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that she would try to get custody of you.  She is very protective of you, but it is often at her own detriment.”

“What do you mean?” asked Danny, a little offended.  

“She isn’t ready for the responsibility,” said Vlad.  “Oh, I suspect she would happily and willingly take you on, and she is better than certain… other options, but she doesn’t have the life - or death - experience to do so without a great deal of personal sacrifice.  Meanwhile, I am well established in both worlds.  She need not sacrifice what remains of her own childhood.  Ah, and here is your room.”

Vlad opened the door, showing Danny a room that bore a striking resemblance to his room in Jazz’s house.  It was bigger, and it had a computer and a shelf of video games next to the shelf of rocket models, and the space theme wasn’t quite as pronounced or as detailed, but it was there.  

Vlad probably did know him, then.  And Danny hadn’t detected any lies.  On the other hand, he probably was just better at lying, all things considered.  A CEO would have to be.  

He’d withhold judgment until he’d met the Dairy King.  But for now… this didn’t seem too bad.   

“If you would like, you can stay here and familiarize yourself with your lodgings, we can take a tour, or we can go ahead to my training room.  I’ve made it large enough to maneuver comfortably in and accomplish some sparring, among other things.  Perhaps we can explore your abilities, or… considering your prior comments… show you how to take your human form?”

Danny felt himself start to levitate slightly in excitement.  “You can do that?  Really?”

“I can at least give you some pointers.  I’m the only one who knows how it feels to transform from human to ghost.  So, can I assume that is your choice?”

“Yeah!” said Danny.  “If that’s really something I can do, I want to know how to do it.”  Also, this was a nice change from telling him nothing (Clockwork), lying to him (Jazz), or being the Observants (the Observants).  

“Very well,” said Vlad, turning back into the hallway.  “I keep my paranormal endeavors below ground.  I entertain here quite frequently, and it wouldn’t do for random humans to come across some of the things I keep in my lab.”

Danny stilled.  “Lab?” he asked.  

“Yes, before I was a businessman, I was a man of science, and being as unique as we are, the only way to know anything about our own bodies and abilities is to discover it for ourselves.”

“Right,” said Danny, walking quickly to catch up, “that makes sense.  But, um, your training room is in the lab?”

“They’re connected, for ease of measurement.  The better to know exactly how strong our ectoblasts are, or how many wavelengths of light we are invisible to.”

Danny nodded.  Again, that made sense.  However…

“Is there a way to get there without going through the lab?”

“I don’t–” started Vlad, giving Danny a confused look.  “No, I’m afraid not.  In the past we might have phased through the walls, but the rules of this trial render them quite impenetrable.  Why do you ask?”

“I just…”  Danny shrugged.  “Jazz said I died in a lab accident.  And even without that…”

Vlad frowned.  “I assure you, my lab has the best safety precautions money can buy and my ingenuity can produce.  However, as I said, we do not have to begin with testing our powers.  Could I perhaps interest you in a documentary on the greatest football team of all time?”

“I…”  Danny really did want to learn how to transform.  On the other hand…  Maybe it was stupid, and maybe he’d been half joking about mad science labs the whole time he was with Jazz, but…  “Yeah, we can watch a documentary.”

“Excellent.  My theater is just this way.  Do you like popcorn?”

[unknown-lab]

What is Love?

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Cheating

Have you ever once in your life, regardless if you're single or in a relationship, wondered... What love is? How do you get it? What should you do to maintain the love you're having for another person? Throughout my experience, there's one thing for sure.

Love is something that fades easily, only when you're with the wrong person.

The night of our 5th Anniversary.

Food? Done. Table? Well-prepared. Candles? All up. Dress? Gorgeous. Lights? Perfect. Everything, every single detail was not left out. Time was tick-tocking as I was admiring what I had done for the past 5 hours. For him, for us. The only flaw I'm having right now is the empty spot in front of me. It should be occupied 1 hour ago.

I waited

And waited

And waited...

Ah... It's 10 pm now. The candles are all out. The room darkened, and there were only 2 dim lights on top of me. He's a busy man, I guess he'd forgotten about this already. Alright then, there's no sign of his return, I might as well start cleaning up. Although I haven't touched anything on the table, I don't feel hungry. Maybe because I don't have the every to be hungry now.

Front door opens

I was already done with the cleaning. I turned to him, and our eyes met. He looks tired too. I don't want to stress him out further, so I just gave him a smile and turned away, walking toward our bed. It's like he could read my mind, he didn't say anything, he just went into the bathroom and took a shower.

He lies down next to me, both of us turning to the opposite side. He's still next to me, and he smells nice. The scent is different from the shampoo we have in our bathroom. I wonder where did he get it from. I was deep in thought until he broke the silence.

"Sign the papers tomorrow."

Hmm? What papers? Never mind, I'll just ask him tomorrow. I don't know why, I feel more tired than usual tonight.

Oh.

Wow.

This escalated... rather quickly... Dazai. Well, I did expect this to happen sooner or later. I was reading through the divorce papers, making nothing is missed out. Everything right now was peaceful. No quarrels, no fights, just two grown adults doing what adults should be doing.

"I was with her last night. I had been by her side for about half a year, and we're planning to make that official. Hopefully, you would understand." He broke the silence, once again. There weren't any expectations heard from his monotone voice. It's like this is just a procedure to him.

Obviously, I kept quiet. I didn't raise my head to look at him, just the files. They are the only thing I have now. I signed the papers and passed them to him. I went to pack my belongings, making sure to bring everything I had with me. While he's just there, sitting on the couch texting her.

Everything is now at the doorstep, ready to go. For the first time in so long, he showed kindness. He put my luggage into the boot. For a split second, seeing him in his suit made my heart skip a beat. How long has he not worn that? It was the one I bought for him on our 1st anniversary. And I know for sure, it's his favourite.

"You can go now, I'll deal with the papers myself. Nothing will go wrong." This is more of an assurance to himself than to me.

"Did you know what day was yesterday?" I looked at him, unfiltered words just came out of my mouth.

"Yeah. It was our 5th Anniversary." He said nonchalantly.

Out of all the things I've thought of, this was the last of all that I could possibly expect. I was expecting a no, regardless he was lying or not. The fact that he knew everything, he knew I was waiting for him, he knew he had to come back, he knew it was our anniversary. This is the trigger that is preparing to fire.

"Then why were you absent?"

"She said wanted me to stay with her."

I could imagine the girl in her sweet voice, holding his hand or hugging him tightly. Begging him to stay with her, just to ruin our moment.

Bravo. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes, slowly rolling down my cheek. Through the blurry vision, I saw a young man in his favourite suit, running towards me. He hugged me and said:

"It's alright, I'd do anything if it's for you."

[steddiealltheway]

(IMPORTANT NOTE: this was supposed to be ABSOLUTE CRACK for Ruth’s birthday ((happy birthday @kurtkankle)) but this Heartstopper x Steddie Stranger Things crossover turned out to be surprisingly wholesome at the end. SO if you want to completely ignore the crack, replace Dart with Mews and… maybe it’s better. And Ruth… you’re the only person who could get me to post this instead of keeping it in my drafts.)

Charlie goes to Nick’s house, thinking only of his strong rugby arms. Instead, he’s greeted at the door by a pet that isn’t Nellie.

“Nick. What the fuck is this?” Charlie asks, bewildered at the creature weaving it’s way through nick’s legs.

Nick smiles and picks the creature up. “This is my cousin’s pet, Dart. I’m taking care of him for the next week.”

As if the creature knows that Nick is talking about him, it unhinges its multiple jaws and screeches.

Charlie stares at it for a few moments before deciding that maybe he can go without Nick for the next week. But then he sees someone come into view over Nick’s shoulder.

“I’m Steve,” the hottest American man Charlie has ever seen says, sticking his hand out toward him.

“H-hi,” Charlie responds taking his hand back and shaking it.

“I hear you’re Nick’s closest rugby lad,” Steve says with a big, clueless smile.

Charlie laughs nervously. “Yep, that’s who I am.”

Nick stares at him awkwardly and invites him inside. Charlie takes one glance at Dart and hopes he doesn’t bite his face off. Luckily, he keeps to himself and follows Steve into the living room as Charlie and Nick got to Nick’s room.

They “study” for about an hour before the door slowly creaks open, and in comes Dart excitedly. But then Steve follows him quickly, bashfully looking up at Nick and Charlie who haven’t had time to untangle themselves from each other.

Steve looks between the two and smiles softly. “You two remind me of me and my good friend Eddie.”

Charlie and Nick glance at each other and silently debate asking Steve more. Nick is the first to speak up, “Steve, are you and Eddie… dating?”

Steve scoffs. “No, we’re just really good pals.”

“Who… kiss sometimes?” Charlie asks, confused.

Steve nods with a big smile on his face.

Nick sits up and crosses his arms. “Is this… an American thing?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, no. This is a me and Eddie thing.”

Charlie nods and leans over to Nick whispering, “And how do you know him, again?”

“He’s practically my cousin’s older brother. He’s staying here while Dustin stays with the rest of his friends.”

Charlie nods, still confused about the situation, before returning his gaze to Steve. “Steve… do you… think about kissing him often?”

“All the time. It’s my ‘Roman Empire’ as Dustin says.”

Nick and Charlie exchange another look before Nick squeezes Charlie’s shoulder and says, “I got this.”

Charlie watches as Nick carefully approaches Steve and puts a gentle hand on his back, leading him down the hall and prompting, “So, tell me more about your friend Eddie.”

Charlie sits back and glances to his right where Dart is curled up on the floor next to Nellie, wondering if this tops the most confusing moment of his life, ranking even above getting Nick Nelson as a boyfriend.

A few minutes later, he wanders down the stairs, easily picking up on the conversation.

“I’m… in love with Eddie?”

Nick is quick to say, “I’m not saying you are, I’m just telling you it’s okay to like both men and women. But maybe you are in love with him.”

There’s a brief silence before Steve says, “I think I am.”

Charlie peaks around the corner where Nick is sitting at the dining room table across from Steve, with a small smile on his face. “I know it can be confusing, but think on it over the next week. And I’ll be here if you have any questions.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “God, I miss him.”

“I can’t imagine going a week without seeing Charlie.”

Charlie’s heart skips a beat at the comment, and he wonders if he should stop intruding on this moment.

“So you two are… going out?” Steve asks carefully.

“Yeah, we are,” Nick answers with a proud smile.

Steve smiles back, a look of contentment settling over his face as if realizing if Nick and Charlie could do it, so could he.

Charlie steps on a creaky part of Nick’s house, and the two glance up at him. Nick holds him arm out invitingly and Charlie is quick to join him in the offered embrace.

Steve runs his hands over his face and laughs, “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before. Robin has been giving me looks for weeks, and I haven’t been able to read them. She kept telling me she couldn’t tell me what it was about until I realized it for myself. It all makes sense now.”

“And Robin is…?” Charlie asks.

Steve smiles brightly and is quick to ramble about his best friend, and Charlie shares stories about Tao in return.

Eventually, Steve’s phone starts buzzing, and he’s quick to excuse himself, cheeks turning red as Eddie Instagram handle lights up his phone.

As he walks away, Nick and Charlie glance at each other again and smile gently. Nick laughs, “Do you think that’s how people saw us when we were first getting together?”

Charlie smiles. “I think we may have been much worse.”

“Or much better honestly.”

Down the hall, they hear Steve argue, “Yes, I know you don’t have an international phone plan. I’ll pay for your bill. Yes it’s important! No, it’s not the kids. No it’s- Eddie. Eddie, I’m in love with you!” There’s a pause and a heavy sigh before Steve continues, “You are not buying a plane ticket to London when you can afford an international phone call. This is not a debate!”

Nick squeezes his arms around Charlie and whispers, “Yeah, we were definitely better.”

“Why are they like this?” Charlie laughs.

Nick laughs in response as they continue listening to the disastrous conversation, glad that they helped someone else have their similar happy ending.

[talkfastromance4]

I have had more thoughts about Sugar and Jake and I was wondering… what would Sugar do/feel like if Jake was deployed? In my mind she sleeps in his bed every night because she misses him, and that’s how he finds her when he comes home. What are your thoughts?

I love this so much I wrote a oneshot for it! Title is inspired by Leon Bridges “coming home”

Wanna hold you close—Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 3.1k

warnings: pure fluff and more than likely navy inaccuracies but this is ficland and anything goes

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

It’s been a good day. You were able to get off work early and so did Jake so he came and picked you up then took you to the coffeeshop you both love. Once you got home, it was a little after three and you changed into comfy clothes then settled on the couch to watch a movie. You quickly fell asleep, head in Jake’s lap and his fingers in your hair. 

When you woke up just as the credits were rolling, Jake suggested going to The Lark, the restaurant he invited you to when the arrangement was first brought up. The two of you changed again, you put on a pretty pink dress and Jake wore an olive green ensemble that really brought out his eyes. 

It was a wonderful way to end the day but once dessert arrived, Jake’s brows furrowed.

“What’s wrong? Is your dessert not good?” you ask peering over at his plate. He had ordered a lemon meringue bar drizzled with raspberry and blueberry sauce. Upon your inspection, he hadn’t even taken a bite.

“No,” he shakes his head, twirling his fork in his fingers. “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay,” you feel a weight in your stomach. The spoonful of creme brulee is shaking slightly in the spoon. “Tell me.”

You start thinking he wants to end things, that you aren’t really what he wants and that this whole thing is a big mistake. His eyes are still downcast, a frown on his face as he stares at the prongs of his fork rotate over the red and blue drizzle. 

“I got called for a mission,” he says slowly. 

“Oh…” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Well, it’s only a few days right?” you pop the sweet custard into your mouth.

“No, Sugar,” he sighs, setting his fork on his plate. His green eyes finally meet yours, they’re still sad. “It’s longer.”

“How much longer?”

“Forty-five days.”

The weight in your stomach plummets. The longest he’s ever been gone is a week, and you were fine then because you weren’t living with him yet and you were so busy with work and Betty. But now, now that you’ve gotten closer and comfortable and more familiar with each other…now his job really sets in. 

You knew he would be deployed eventually, while he’s a Top Gun instructor, he’s still an active duty pilot. Your throat turns dry and your mind starts to race of any and all possibilities. As if knowing what your mind is doing, Jake’s hand covers yours that’s holding the spoon and works your fingers open. The spoon clatters to the table.

You were gripping the spoon so tight your nails were digging into your palm and Jake peeled your fingers apart so he could trace over the four crescent shapes indented into your palm.

“Sugar, look at me,” he says softly but you can’t find the will to do so. 

“Can we go?”

***

You remain silent in your thoughts on the drive home, Jake’s hand placed in its usual spot on your knee, his thumb stroking circles on your thigh. Once you’re home, you’re the first to get out and Jake follows you all the way to the wine room that’s just off the kitchen. His hands are in his pockets watching you go to the corner that holds your favorite wine.

In the kitchen, you’re struggling with the wine opener but Jake takes it easily from you and opens the wine for you. You lift it up and walk towards the back door, Jake following after he grabs two glasses. You flicked the string of lights on and fell onto the couch, taking a deep drink of the wine. 

“Okay, no glasses,” Jake sighs and sits next to you, watching you. “Okay that’s enough for now, y/n.”

Some wine dribbles down your chin, but Jake is quick to swipe it away with his thumb. 

“Are you mad?” Jake asks, suddenly feeling helpless. He’s never seen you act this way before. 

“No,” you tumble your fingers with his so you’re holding his hand. You trace the circumference of his Navy ring. “When do you leave?”

“Two days.”

Your head snaps up.

“So soon?”

“That’s the Navy, Sugar,” he nods, scooting closer to you on the couch. He cups your cheek.

“What are you…what do you have to do?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why is it so long?”

“Can’t tell you that either,” he smiles sadly and you sigh. 

“Is it dangerous?”

“That’s always a possibility,” he licks his lips as he nods. 

“You’ll come home, right?”

“Trust me, leaving you is the hardest thing ever. I’m already counting down the days and I haven’t even left yet.”

Those words make your eyes sting and you quickly press into him, Jake’s arm wrapping around your back. You have to remind yourself that he’s not leaving you for someone else. He’s leaving for his job and it has nothing to do with you. 

For the next two days, you ask him all the questions you have and he answers as best he can. He reminds you that you can use the credit card he gave you for anything you need and that payments are already set up for Betty. Texting and calling won’t be easy but emails will work best and he promises he’ll respond when he can. 

Jake has no problem saying yes to you except when you ask if you can be there when he leaves and he says no. 

“You don’t want me there?”

“If you’re there, Sugar, I won’t get on the damned plane,” he pulls you into his chest. He kisses the top of your head. “I’d be kicked out for insubordination of not listening to my Commander.”

You’re giggling then but you know he’s telling the truth. You lift your head so your chin is resting on his chest as you gaze up at him. 

“I wouldn’t let you go either,” you admit and he bends down to give you a sweet kiss. 

***

The first day you felt his vacancy immediately, even though you woke up as he came into your room to say goodbye. He was in his service khakis and had a large duffel bag over his shoulder. He whispered your name softly then whispered sweet words and reminders before kissing you so sweetly you had no clue how he was able to pull away. 

“I’ll be coming home to you, Sugar, I promise,” he whispered. 

You held onto his hand as long as you could, watching him back out of your room. He told you to get some more sleep, blew you a kiss, stared at you for ten more seconds before leaving. It wasn’t until you heard the front door shut that you started to cry. 

You researched about Navy Fighter Pilots but only found articles or blogs from retired members that recounted the good ole’ days of their time in the service. They were great reads but not what you needed. You found a blog of wives, girlfriends, and other partners but theirs were mainly about how their children missed the one who was gone and what stores had the best deals.

By day nine you kept glancing at his open doorway in his room. You’ve only been in there once, when he gave you the tour of the house. You were aching to go in there but wanted to respect his privacy. 

You emailed him each day but still had no response back. Some of the articles said no news is good news but you were feeling the opposite. If something happened to him you wouldn’t know because you’re not family. You contemplated reaching out to his sisters, Annie and Nora but you haven’t met them so you thought that’d be weird. 

By day twelve you’re getting antsy from not hearing from Jake and you’re tossing and turning in your bed as wind howls against your windows. You haven’t been sleeping all that well since Jake left and you grab your phone to use the flashlight and you head towards his room. 

You flick on his lights just as lightning flashes beneath the blinds of his windows. His bed is clean and pristine and you see a piece of paper on the nightstand nearest the door. You recognize Jake’s handwriting immediately and begin to read:

In case you get cold and want a fire, the remote for the fireplace is on the coffee table by the couch. Feel free to use it as much as you’d like. See you soon, Sugar. Thinking of your smile as I fly through the skies. X Jake

That makes you smile and you shuffle over to the couch finding the remote exactly where the note indicated. It’s easy enough to figure out. When the fire ignites, you turn it to the medium setting, warmth emitting from it immediately. You grab the large knitted blanket from the couch and plop down, the cushions are comfy as a bed. You watch the flames flicker and dance and then you’re fast asleep.

By day twenty-two you’ve been sleeping on Jake’s couch every night and that’s when you finally get an e-mail from him. He apologizes for taking so long. The internet is pretty spotty on the carrier and it’s hot as hell, he says he’s never not sweating. He said he’s bunking with Rooster and it reminds him of their first years during flight school, Rooster always talks to him at night. 

He doesn’t mind so much now because Rooster asks questions about you and Jake is all too willing to talk about you. He ends the e-mail by reminding you the forty-five days are halfway up and he can’t wait to come home and see you. He also includes a photo of him and the squad on the carrier. It’s a little blurry but he’s in his real flight suit with his aviators on, his hair blowing in the wind. 

You printed it out and placed it against the stack of aviation books on the coffee table so it was the first thing you’d see.

Day thirty-seven had you rethinking your sleeping arrangement. During a very real dream, you rolled onto the floor and smacked your head on the coffee table. You saw several stars before you sat up and decided to move to the bed. You’re not sure which side he slept on so you chose the left side. His cologne and aftershave washed over you, his pillow plush and smelling more like him as you laid down. 

You made sure to put Jake’s picture against the lamp so you could see him.

It was the best sleep you’ve had since he left so you decided to sleep there until he got home. You’d make sure to wash the sheets so he’d be none the wiser. Sometimes, to help you fall asleep, you’d play The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face and you’d dream of him.

Reynolds assured you that Jake is very good at what he does and that he will come home without a hair out of place. You appreciated his assurance but you missed talking with Jake and eating with him in the kitchen or finding him in the pool when you’d come home from work. 

Day forty-five came and went and you were a worried mess. 

What could that mean? Was he hurt? Did they get stuck in bad weather? Do Navy Pilots get layovers?

All the thinking and worrying gave you a migraine so you called in sick and slept  with the fire on. The sheets were cool on your neck and head, the bump from the coffee table pulsated in pain every time you moved. 

***

As soon as the debriefing was done at the hangar, Jake bolted out of there so fast to his truck. His windshield wipers were on the highest setting as he raced home to you. He was irritated he had to stay for an extra three days because that was an extra three days away from you. 

Because he was still on duty, he couldn’t call or text or e-mail you until they were back at the main hangar. He’d thought of you everyday and kept a photo of you tucked away in his pocket and cockpit when he was flying. He took it while you were out for brunch and you found a small patch of flowers. You knelt down to pick them and Jake took his phone out so he could capture the moment.

He called your name and when you looked up, he snapped a photo. Embarrassed, you held up your hand laughing as he tried to get a clear shot of your face. It was his favorite photo. He gazed at it when he woke up, tuning out Rooster’s monotone snores.

When he was flying and things got dicey in the sky, he’d look at your smiling face and find it within him to persevere and give the enemy pilots hell. You filled him with adrenaline and a purpose so when three extra days went by he was antsy. 

He wanted to call you and let you know that he’s on his way home–on his way to you–but the numbers on his truck’s screen reminded him it was too late. You’re probably sleeping and he didn’t want to wake you in a panic, even though he was sure you’ve been panicking the last seventy-two hours. 

When he finally pulled into the garage and ran inside without his duffel bag. He took the stairs two at a time then noticed your door was open. Usually you sleep with it closed so that concerns him. He was even more concerned when he didn’t find you in your bed. 

Panicking, he ran downstairs but didn’t find you in the living room so he ran back upstairs. His door was opened wider than he usually keeps it so he went to investigate. Seeing you curled up in his sheets and comforter hit him with such want and a deep rooted care for you that he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. 

The fire was on and old re-runs of Friends was on his tv. He approaches you quietly, kneeling on his side of the bed (you were hugging his pillow tightly) when he notices the picture he sent you leaning against the lamp. That filled him with more glee. 

“Sugar,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers on your forehead and into your hair. “Hey…Sugar.”

You groan and shift, mumbling his name. 

“Sugar, I’m home,” he says a little louder, fingers still in your hair. 

“Am I dreamin’?” you mumble again into his pillow. 

“No, baby, I’m right here. Open your eyes,” he chuckles and your eyes flash open. 

“Jake!” you launch yourself at him and he has to brace himself so he doesn’t fall back on his knees. You breathe in his hair, his shampoo is different but you smell his aftershave, a little bit of sweat and his cologne and you feel comforted.

“I’m sorry I’m late, Sugar,” he kisses your shoulder. “Had a little difficulty getting home.”

“I was so worried, I didn’t know if I should contact someone or who I would even–”

“I made sure you’d be notified, but you don’t have to worry about that now. I’m home.”

“You’re home,” you repeat weakly. You fall back into his bed, pulling Jake with you. He hovers over you, one arm squashed beneath your back and the other caressing your face.

“And you’re in my bed,” he smiles.

“I–I couldn’t sleep. I found your note and I was sleeping on your couch with the fire on but then I fell and hit my head on the table so I tried your bed and it smells like you and is so comfy but you’re home now so I’ll leave–”

He silences you with a kiss that turns from sweet to passionate in seconds. You move further back to the center of the bed, yanking Jake with you. You hear his shoes fall to the floor, lips still connected as he lays over you. 

“Don’t want you to leave,” he mumbles on your lips. “Stay here with me.”

“Okay,” you whisper tugging his comforter over him. His body heat fills your space quickly, the weight of him on top of you feels so nice. He gives you another deep kiss, the arm moving from beneath your back to your waist. 

“Is this my Navy shirt?” he asks staring down at the shirt you’re wearing. 

“Um..yeah. I saw it folded on your bathroom sink when I used the bathroom one night and I like when you wear it so I…borrowed it. Is that okay?”

“Seeing you in my bed and in my shirt…it’s more than okay, Sugar,” he grins. “Better than I’d dreamed it would be. How long have you been sleeping in here?”

“Since you e-mailed me the first time…” you admit sheepishly. You’re tracing your finger over the chain of his dog tags that spilled out of his shirt when he clambered onto his bed. “If that’s weird–”

He’s kissing you again, this time rolling over so you’re laying on his chest. His hands are gripping your waist as you adjust yourself over him, his fingers tickling you in the process and you’re giggling. 

“What?” he asks, adjusting his head on his pillow.

“You’re interrupting me a lot,” you laugh. 

“I’d apologize but I wouldn’t mean it. I missed you so much, Sugar. Finding  you in my bed and my shirt is the best homecoming I’ve ever had.”

You bite your lip, his sweet words heat up your cheeks. Being in this position gives you the opportunity to touch his face, he has a bit of a beard on his cheeks. A little sunburn on his nose and forehead. 

“Do you want to watch a movie or have a midnight snack?”

“No, just wanna hold you close.”

You’re half draped over him, his arm holding you against him and your hands joined on his stomach. You’re playing with each other’s fingers, staring at each other in the dim glow of his fireplace. When your eyes start to get heavy you blink them open quickly to stay awake. 

“Go to sleep, I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promises with a kiss to your head. 

“Welcome home, Jake,” you whisper then close your eyes. 

You’re safe and warm tucked against him, the sound of his heart lulling you to sleep, his thumb rubbing your hand and the soft hum of him singing your song sends you off into dreamland.