#I was always gonna do another one or two of these

[damiansgoodgirll]

please,, please,, please,, rhea being all cuddly then soft sex… its a need

this request just melted my heart ♥️

rhea ripley x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

‼️soft rhea, soft sex, a lot of feels and fluff‼️

needing me

“you’re so cuddly today” you whispered amused against her soft skin.

currently laying down on the bed, on your favorite position - your head between her head and shoulder, your leg over her thick ones, hands intertwined together while she was whispering softly to you.

“i’m always cuddly” she mumbled, pretending to be annoyed by you, making you laugh.

“not as much as you are today, maybe it’s the christmas spirit” you looked up to her, challenging her look.

“please, i can’t wait for christmas season to be over…” she huffed.

“oh right, i forgot you are the grinch…” she laughed as you pretended to be annoyed “but i’m glad you’re home now, we can spend some time together, watch a lot of movies…”

“cuddle and spend days in bed” she winked down at you.

“just to cuddle?” teasing her back.

“oh so you’ve been needing me, uh?” she whispered and in a swift move she was pinning you underneath her warm body “i think i can solve that…”

“rhea…you’re tickling me” you said laughing the moment you felt her cold hands grazing underneath your t-shirt.

she watched you big loving eyes “i can solve that too…just trust me” she whispered before pressing a soft kiss upon your lips. her cold hands moved against your skin, making you shiver “let me help you with this one…” she whispered, referring to the oversized ‘mami’ t-shirt you bought for her on etsy but that somehow, you always ended up wearing.

raising your arms just to give her better access, in a swift move the shirt was laying down on the floor.

“no bra, uh? do you wanna be on the naughty list this year?” she joked, making you laugh “you’re so pretty baby, i can’t believe we have this week just for us…” she whispered.

thinking of how hard it was for you two to find a moment to stay together. with her being on raw and you being drafted on smackdown, you always ended up having a day and a half to spend together so you never failed to cherish sweet moments like that one.

“i know…” you met her soft smile. she tried so many times to get you on raw so you two could be together and travel together but hunter said no multiple times, saying that your feud with tiffany was attracting attention and definitely attracting more fans and he didn’t want to ruin your big moment like that.

then rhea herself offered to be drafted on smackdown but again, hunter said no.

you fought hard for what you had and no matter how little less time you had to spend together, you both always made sure it was worth it.

“hey…what is your mind thinking?” she asked, shoving some hair behind your ear.

“nothing…i just, i wish we could be together all days, moments like this get me nostalgic” you chuckled, making her laugh.

“i know…it’ll get better after mania, i promise you” rhea smirked, clearly knowing something you didn’t know. but before you could ask questions, she pressed another sweet kiss upon your lips “no questions…let me enjoy my time off with my girlfriend”.

“okay…” you whispered, letting her kiss you from your lips to your neck and down your chest. releasing a soft breath, you felt her warm tongue gently kissing above your breast, long enough to tease you “rhea…”.

“patience, i’m gonna give you exactly what you need, just hold on a little for me, okay?” and you knew you couldn’t say no when she asked so nicely. so you stayed there, feeling rhea torturing your breast before she decided to tease your nipples too.

a soft moan escaped your lips, making rhea chuckle “sensitive, aren’t we?”

“not my fault you didn’t touch me in a week…” you decided to be bratty a little bit, making rhea stop her movement and make her look up at you.

“is that so?” she asked, clearly amused.

“yes…” you whispered.

“then, let me fix my mistake baby…” - you loved this sweet side of rhea. in other occasions she would have punished you or edged you until you couldn’t take it anymore but not this time. instead she took her sweet time in undressing you properly. removing your pants first and then the white lacy panties you had underneath “you’re gonna kill me one day…how did i get so lucky with you?” but before you could answer, her thumb was already teasing between your folds.

letting a quite pornographic sound out from your lips, you felt rhea laughing at your reaction.

“yes, you’ve been needing me…” she whispered, feeling how wet you already were.

“i need you, please” you said, rhea already knew that.

she softly teased your clit with her thumb, making small circles around it. her eyes were fixed on your face, studying your expression “what do you want baby, fingers or my tongue?” - it was rare that she let you decide what you wanted but she knew how down you’ve been feeling these past weeks where you had little to no time to spend together and she didn’t want to upset you.

“you, i want you rhea…” she chucked at your impatience.

while her thumb kept moving around your clit, she asked you the question again.

“you. the strap, please…” you opened your eyes up to her, as if you were begging.

“i don’t wanna hurt you…i need you to get you ready first” she couldn’t wait to be inside of you, she couldn’t wait to feel your chest pressed against hers but she wanted to take things slow.

“i’m ready, i promise you…can’t you feel how wet i am? please, i need you” her touch was intoxicating for you and she knew there was no chance of fighting with you. so she gave in, completely.

releasing her hand from your clit, she moved to the closet to get the strap - the purple one you gave her for her birthday, the one she has been using on you when she wanted to wreck you and leave you a panting mess.

slowly walking towards the bed, she stopped just to undress herself and adjust the harness over her hips. never leaving your eyes, she watched carefully at all the little movements your face was making. from how you bit your lips to how you closed your eyes just to take a deep breath.

everything she did looked hot for you and having her standing naked in front of you was making your head spinning.

when she was done, she crawled back on the bed on top of you “you ready princess?” she teased, definitely already knowing the answer.

“yes please…i need you” you couldn’t wait any longer or else you were going to explode.

she slowly dragged the strap up and down your folds, collecting your juices as she teased your clit with the tip of it. squeezing your eyes, you felt your body was on fire.

“don’t stop please…” you looked up at her with begging eyes.

in other occasions she would have done the opposite of what you asked. she would have teased you until you couldn’t take it anymore but not tonight. tonight she was ready to give you all you asked and more.

“i’m sliding in baby, take a deep breath for me” she warned you. knowing that the purple strap always worked magic on you, making you feel so full and stretched out. it was the one she used to destroy you but tonight rhea wanted to try something different.

you relaxed against her skin and when you felt the strap resting between your walls, you let out a shaky breath. suddenly feeling so warm and full. rhea still had to move, giving you time to adjust.

“you can move, please” and she did as you told her.

but this time, she kept her pace slow. the tip of the strap brushing over your sweet spot, making you shiver and moan every time. her chest pressed against yours. feeling her hard nipples against your was making your head dizzy.

she gently pinned your hands above your head with one of her strong hands while the other one held your chin between her fingers.

lowering her head down just to meet your lips in a soft kiss “i could kiss you all night long” she whispered against your lips, making you smile into the kiss.

sweet love making with rhea taking care of you in the sweetest way possible.

with each thrust you felt like you were close and rhea felt it too from how you tried to close your legs around her.

“you coming baby?” she whispered, leaving a tender kiss against your collarbone.

“uh uh…” you moaned, too lost in the pleasure to speak.

the feeling of the strap hitting your spot and rhea’s lips all over your neck were enough to make you crumble under her skin.

closing your eyes and letting your mouth fall open, you moaned her name as you came. the friction of the strap against her clit and the feeling of your body responding too good to her touch were enough to make her cum too.

she gently released your hands and in a quick but steady move she grabbed you by the hips and made you sit on her strap as she came, making you feel all of the strap length inside of you.

your hands quickly went to her back - maybe leaving a scratch or two as you still were riding out your first orgasm.

“oh fuck baby…you feel too fucking good…” she moaned as she hid her face in the crook of your neck, her teeth grazing over your skin.

it took you a moment to come down from your high. your eyes were still closed but your breath came back to normal while rhea was now kissing the skin she bit before.

“shit…” you whispered, opening your eyes only to be met with a loving rhea.

“you good baby?” her hand quickly moved some of the hair that got stuck on your face.

you nodded “i am…i’m perfectly fine…i just wanna cuddle” you mumbled, not wanting to sound too weak but rhea watched you with sweet eyes before helping you remove yourself from her waist.

slowly, you removed yourself from the strap she was still wearing.

“we did a mess…” you looked down at the purple strap that was now covered in your juices.

rhea chuckled, taking the harness off from herself and throwing it somewhere in the room “i’ll do the cleaning later, now i want to lay down with you…”

you couldn’t help the big smile that formed on your face when rhea said those words.

laying down on the bed, you let your head rest on her shoulder again as her hands went to move on your back, gently massaging your soft skin.

“i wish we could stay like this forever…” you whispered.

“i know…but hey, let’s focus on the time we can spend together now okay? everything is going to be okay, just trust me…” she said, trying to ease your mood just a little bit.

you nodded, closing your eyes and letting rhea’s touch lullaby you to sleep.

rhea smiled looking down at you, thinking how lucky she was to have found a partner like you.

if only you knew that she was going to propose on christmas day…

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

My Favorite Thing

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Your comfort item gets lost on a hunt, and the boys try to help you

“Stop the car!”

Dean slammed on the breaks, turning the Impala to the side of the road before whipping around in his seat to see what was wrong.

“What happened? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Willow!” You exclaimed. “We have to go back to the motel!”

“Jeez, kid.” Dean let out a huge sigh of relief. “I thought you were dying or something. Don’t scare me like that!”

“We have to go back, it’s an emergency!”

“Kid, your little toy thing is not an emergency,” Dean said.

“Are you sure you didn’t just leave it in your other bag?” Sam asked.

“Yes I’m sure, I always put it right here, and it’s gone!”

“It can’t be at the motel,” Dean argued. “I remember you had it right before we went after that vamp. You must’ve lost it on the hunt.”

“Well then we have to go find it. Please, Dean,” you begged.

Dean sighed, swinging the Impala into a u-turn. “Let’s see if we can find it.”

…

Two hours later, and still no luck.

“Kiddo, we’ve gotta get going,” Dean spoke up reluctantly. “There’s a case in the next state over and we really should try to get there before dark—“

“We can’t just give up!” You cried.

“We looked everywhere honey,” Sam cut in. “There’s nothing else we can do. Maybe we can find you another—“

“No, no you can’t just find another one!” You yelled. “You don’t get it, you don’t even care!” You were racing away from the boys before either of them had a chance to respond.

“What was that?” Dean demanded.

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “But she was headed toward the Impala. Let’s go.”

…

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean’s greeting did nothing to pull you out from the way you’d cocooned yourself in the Impala’s backseat.

Sam eased the door open and slid in next to you, patting your knee that was curled up against your chest.

“N/N, talk to us. You ok?”

“Dad gave it to me.” Your voice came out in a high-pitched whimper. “And I lost it.”

“Oh kid…” Dean climbed into the front of the Impala, reaching over the back of the seat and tilting your chin up. “Dad would understand, ok? It’s ok.”

“No it’s not!” You sniffled. “You have the Impala, and Sam has dad’s journal…I don’t have anything of his. I wanted to at least keep something he gave me.”

Dean suddenly slipped out of the Impala, but you didn’t have time to notice it because Sam spoke up.

“Honey, it’s not about the stuff he left behind. He taught you so much that you’re gonna carry with you, and you don’t need a toy to remember that.”

“I…I guess,” you sniffled. “But I wanted it.”

“Commere…” Sam pulled you into his arms, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find it. I know that meant a lot to you.”

“Here it is—“ Dean’s voice caught your attention as he returned, holding a bundle that he’d retrieved from the trunk. “I think dad would want you to have this.” Dean pressed the fabric into your hands, and you held it up to reveal John Winchester’s favorite jacket.

“It’s never gonna fit,” you argued dubiously.

“Who cares?” Dean shrugged. “I heard jackets six sizes too big are the trend now.”

You giggled through your tears as you slipped your arms through the massive sleeves. The sleeves hung down several inches past your fingers, but you didn’t seem to mind as you hugged the fabric around you.

“Thanks, Dean,” you said.

Dean grinned.

“Any time, kid.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810

[shrimpybbq]

thinking of how maybe high school gf probably pushed herself too hard after emmy was born because she kind of reverted back to when charlie was a baby and how she had no help and also taking care of rafe on her own. and rafe obviously doesn’t like that

this is similar to the last ask i answered, but she definitely did - especially as rafe was so busy with work and trying to rebuild the reputation of cameron development. she tried to do everything by herself, always doing her best to manage a bubbly and adventurous charlie with a brand new baby that couldn’t be left alone. she was constantly telling rafe,

“No it’s ok, you need to rest.”

“You have a big meeting tomorrow with the investors, don’t worry about this. I can take care of it.”

rafe was also off the drugs by that time, but when she noticed him start to drink more and more she began to do her best to help him. it didn’t really work, but he did promise her he would set a limit on his drinking. rafe didn’t realise how stressed and overwhelmed she was until he came home from a meeting one day, only to see her sobbing on the bed as she cradled emmy in her arms, the small baby crying non-stop.

“Hey, hey - baby! What’s going on? Are you ok?” he asked, watching her almost not even register his words.

“She won’t stop crying, Rafe! I’ve fed her, and I’ve changed her, and I sang to her and wore her and she just won’t stop and Charlie wants to play in the garden and I need to get your suit ready for tomorrow and the-“

rafe froze as he watched his wife cry, finally realising just how much she had been doing, and that maybe - despite her claims, she wasn’t coping. he felt awful and couldn’t believe he had been too blind to notice her struggling.

“Hey, give her to me, ok? Go take a nice bath, with all those salts and fragrances you like. I’m gonna look after the kids and get everything done,” rafe had commanded.

“No, but-”

“No, baby. You need to relax. You deserve it,” he continued, grabbing emmy from her arms as she looked up at him pitifully, “and ‘m sorry. I should’ve seen that you weren’t ok. I’m gonna do better and be here more often, m’kay? I’m not gonna be like my dad.”

rafe had practically dragged her into the bathroom and closed the door before walking down to the kitchen with his daughter. she had stopped crying after a few moments in her father’s arms (go figure),

“Hey, you’re not being very nice to your mother, you know that?”

rafe had carried out all the tasks he knew were on her list for the evening and even ordered take out for dinner that night, not wanting her to do any more work. he grinned as she wandered down the stairs after an hour, noticing her calmer demeanour,

“Feeling better, baby?”

she gave him a low hum in agreement and he had smiled once more, reaching down to kiss her. his hands ran over her hair, smoothing down the wet strands and admiring his wife.

“I meant what I said. You’re not doing this alone, and if I ever make you feel that way again, tell me. I gotta take care of you - you’re my wife. We’re partners in this shit.”

rafe and high school gf shared a smile and another kiss before turning to the gurgling baby girl in her high chair, her chubby cheeks now smushed full of food. she was the perfect mix of the two of them, and as the couple admired their baby girl, they shared a warm embrace.

[mattsnight]

Bsf!chris taking shy!readers virginity ! ✧₊⁺

My first language is not english!

“y’know i can help with that ache, right?” Chris mumbles against your skin, his hands trailing slow figures on your side. You’re a virgin and you’ve always hated it. It’s stupid you can’t seem to find the right guy to give your virginity to. Chris knew about your situation and tried helping you with taking you to parties to meet new people, but none of it helped. That’s why he took matters into his own hands.

“What?” You say, your face turning a light shade of pink within seconds. “You heard me,” he starts, now looking up at you. “I could…” his hand moves to your face to cup your cheek. “help you.”

A small gulp is left from your mouth as he speaks. “Like you… want to touch me?” You say under your breath. Chris smiles and nods. He was so patient with you every time you two talked about things like this. “I’ll be gentle and slow.”

You nod, sitting up to fix your posture. Chris also sits up and moves his hands to the edge of your shirt, pulling at it. “Can i take this off?” You wouldn’t say no to that. “Yes,”

He takes it off before throwing it to the floor. For a moment he takes in how beautiful you look with your red lace bra. He’s almost floating in the air. “Shitttt… may i?” He asks, pointing at it. You nod almost immediately. He chuckles, unclasping the bra. You suddenly feel a big wave of nervousness wash over you. Did you really want this right now? Was this a good idea? You push the thoughts aside as you look into Chris’ gorgeous love-filled eyes. He leaves slow kisses down your neck, to your chest before stopping. “You still comfortable?”

“Yes..” you breathe out. Chris smirks before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, tracing laps around it with his tongue. Your hand moves into his hair while the other is trying to grab something. Chris moves to your other nipple. “C-chris.. that feels really good.”

“Yeah? You lovin’ the feeling?”

“Mhhhhmm…”

After a short while he pulls back, moving in between your legs. “You ever touched yourself, hm?” He asks, knowing the answer. You blush again, feeling embarrassed. “Maybe..” you mumble. “Maybe? Give me a real answer, doll.” He will not shut up until you give him the truth. “Yes..”

That’s what he needed to hear. “Then you know how it feels right? Only this time it will be better.” His hands move to your shorts to pull them off, looking into your eyes for permission first. As you nod he doesn’t hesitate. He takes off your shorts, throwing them to the floor where your shirt is, revealing your matching red panties.

“Fuck, got the whole set on tonight..” he moves his hands the inside of your thighs, taking in the view again. Then, he pulls down your panties. You immediately try to cover yourself up as you start to feel really exposed, but chris immediately spreads your legs again. “Nah, don’t be embarrassed, ‘kay? Just gonna help you get that ache gone.”

And with that he runs a finger down your slit, surprised how wet you are. “Fuck.. you’re so gorgeous, ma.” He says, teasingly moving his finger against your entrance. A small whine escapes your lips as you start to feel more and more desperate. “Chris please…” your voice cracks, failing itself. “Please what?” He asks teasingly. “I need your fingers…” you lay your head back against your pillow. “Where do you want them?”

“Everywhere… please chris.”

That motivated Chris. He pushes one finger inside of you, feeling your tightness. His movements are slow at first, but grow faster as you keep adjusting. “You’re so tight..” chris groans, looking at how his fingers disappear inside of you. It was terrible how hard he got from this.

He adds another finger, spreading them inside of you. “Takin’ my fingers so well, baby. Keep taking deep breaths, yeah?” He says, moving his other hand around your stomach as a sign of comfort. “Feels… so good.” You moan out. Chris’ ego almost busts through the roof, but keeps calm.

His thumb moves to your clit, slowly rubbing it at first before speeding up. He keeps doing this routine for a while, making you feel extremely good. “Chris.. i- do i cum now?” You ask, unsure if you’re close, since it’s a new feeling. “Yeah, just let it all go f’me.. you’re doin’ s’good, pretty.” He praises, speeding up his movements. “Just like thaattttt.” You cum hard, your pussy clenching around his fingers. “Chris! Fuck!” Your hand moves to his, squeezing tightly. Shit, it felt so good.

Chris stops his movements, but doesn’t pull his fingers out. He watches you come down from your high. “I think i’ve never made someone cum that hard.” He chuckles, before slowly taking his fingers out of you. A wave of uncomfortableness washes over you as he pulls his fingers out. “Shit, i should’ve warned you it could hurt.” He says, rubbing your thighs.

“N-no it’s okay. Can we just… go further?” You ask, your voice full with desperation. Chris’ eyes shoot up at you. “What? You sure? It’s like.. quite a level higher.”

“Im sure, please.”

Chris nods, standing up. He takes off his shirt, then his belt and then his pants. His gaze is focused on your face, trying to see if you’re uncomfortable in any way, but there’s nothing bad, just desperation. He takes out his dick. “You ready?” He asks, only focussed on your pleasure. “Yeah, yeah- just go slow.”

He places himself at your entrance before slowly pushing it, but not too far. You wince at the stretch. Chris stops his movements, letting you adjust to the first bit. “We’re takin’ it slow.. deep breaths.”

Then, he pushes in further. He’s almost fully in as he sees tears swell in your eyes. “Hey- hey, look at me.” He says, grabbing your hand. “Does it hurt too much? We can stop.” You shake your head. “I just need.. to adjust.” You say, wiping away the tears.

As a few minutes fly by, you start to feel better. “You- you can move.” Chris nods, slowly moving his hips. “Just tell me if it’s too much, yeah?” He says, moving his hands to your waist to get a better angle. His movements start to speed up, making you moan and cry out. “Fuck”

“Takin’ me like a good girl, ma.. c’mon don’t hold back.” His balls are now slapping against your ass with each thrust. “Chris- chris- chris.. i’m gonna cum.” You warn as that familiar feeling comes closer. “Yeah? Cum for me.”

With that, you cum hard all over him again. Once again feeling that incredible feeling. “Ugnnhh…” you manage to get out. Chris’ head falls back as he also lets go. “Shit.. oh fuck”

“That was so fucking good.”

///

[taegularities]

colour me in: photograph (teaser) | jjk (m)

Summary: With both your and Jungkook's careers seemingly peaking, the future feels promising and bright. Yet, amidst the glowing hope, one single phone call dims the light in the rooms of your shared home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: [redacted spoiler that shall drop with the chapter], tears, sadness/grief, doubts, tender moments, talk of jk's future and his art, support, jk's dad, surprises, (talk of) a break up oop, mention of children (i guess that's a warning lol), explicit sexual content: let-out-some-steam-sex, dom!jk, big dick!jk, he's actually insane. more details shall be added on drop day; the ending.. <3 ➳ word count: around 760 for the teaser; 25-30k for the chapter ➳ a/n: get ready, it's gonna hurt for a whiiile now :') as always, come n talk to me about this 🤍 ➳ listen to: holo by leehi | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

“You do know that we’re supposed to meet up with them in like,” you drop your eyes to your wrist, pulling back the sweater to unveil your watch, “forty minutes, right?”

“And you think they’ll complain about some extra time alone?”

You deliver a blank stare, not a single blink as you watch him shrug a shoulder. He sports a smirk that you would’ve clenched your jaw to months ago, but today, even if you won’t admit it right this second, it amuses you.

He laughs when you stand there unmoving, like a stick figure silently reprimanding a lethargic boyfriend. You hate to break, but when the contagious chuckle infects you, too, you feel a light wave of relief and serotonin ripple through you violently.

Jungkook hasn’t left vacation mode just yet; while the work for the gallery is still ongoing and he diligent, you catch him slouching ever so often, doodling away at times. You’ll confess, the grey outside is tiring; different from the sunnier countryside you left behind.

There’s a sort of post-bliss blues that even you can hardly shake off.

“You can’t deny that, can you?” he utters amidst his melodious laugh, and you roll your eyes, taking two big steps towards him — much like two days ago.

“I don’t have to deny it to still teach you the importance of punctuality, right? Get up,” you say, smacking his hip — and he uses the opportunity to lift his arm from under his head, reaching for you, but… failing. “Uh-uh. Enough with your tricks. Get up.”

Last night still wasn’t enough — is it ever? You’re not surprised; neither by his thirst nor by your own inner, involuntary reactions. But no time. It’s rude to let people wait.

And you know exactly what Jimin would say — tease — if the two of you arrived at the double lunch date with him and Yoongi too late again.

Jungkook’s voice turns half into a yawn, half into a sigh, tired when he responds, “Yes, ma’am.”

This should do.

But since everything good comes in three, and just for good measure, you add another laser-glance, shooting at him in warning to lift his ass and meet you ready once you are, too. A playfully sigh breathed, you amble to the bathroom, make up awaiting on the sink from when you put it there this morning.

This shouldn’t take long; you’re opting for the minimalistic approach today.

As the hues colour your lips and fill your lashes, you hum a random melody you can’t quite identify. It’s quiet in the apartment until it isn’t — and when Jungkook’s voice chimes, your hand halts mid-mascara-stroke, assuming he’s calling for you.

He’s not; you understand this much when he greets the person on the other end in his liveliest tone at first, volume decreasing as the conversation continues. He’s soon hushed enough for you to not really make out proper words anymore. Hums here and there — Jungkook doesn’t seem to say much at all.

Perhaps it’s Yoongi, or Tae, telling a story. Narrating recent occurrences, the joys and pains that emerged and shrivelled on the vacation that you weren’t part of anymore.

You don’t ask just yet, decide not to disturb.

You finish up whatever is left of your routine, setting the make up and ruffling through your hair, adding volume. When the talk he’s indulging in still remains when you deem yourself ready, you let out a breather and step back into the bedroom.

Still in the same clothes and with the untamed hair as his crown, Jungkook’s gaze is lowered, fingers barely curled into the sheets. He’s sat up now; you see his Adam’s apple bob when you walk in. Instinctively and immediately, you blurt, “Now what did I tell you just a moment ago—”

But the jest dries in your throat and then fades, as dead as Jungkook’s eyes when he looks up at you. Or maybe… maybe they’re not dead.

More so — in disbelief. As if he hasn’t really fathomed what he’s just heard, mind sprinting in circles, attempting to understand.

His chest isn’t moving as it should, and just in general, his body emits inner trouble. Distress. When he lifts his pupils and shifts them towards you, it looks as if he’s hoping that your presence could reverse reality, as if you’re pulling him out of the inevitable quicksand.

But you can’t. You get it; see it right away.

Because the watery gaze and the gap between his lips, this expression, are new to you, no matter how many of his aches you’ve mended. And you guess it has something to do with what his conversation partner just said.

Something that certainly wasn’t part of today’s agenda at all.

the way i even had to change the banner bc it'd be such a spoiler lmaoooo but yeah anyways, what do we think? y'all's thought always help immensely, and life has been so busy that writing took a backseat – getting back into it is hard. but you guys offer so many theories as well as love and always motivate me, so come and let's talk <3

[munsonsmixtapes]

hey is it possible for you to write rockstar eddie on a tour for two days and the reader has been touch starved and when he gets back readers really happy and they have um yk but it’s totally ok if you don’t feel comfortable doing this love you work btwww your so talented 💖💖💖

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it)

It's been months since you've seen Eddie. Since he's been on tour and you've been working, you've haven't had any time to go to one of his shows that was close by or even talk on the phone.

And not seeing him for such a long period of time has led to you being touch starved. You haven't been able to stop thinking about having his hands on you the second you reunite. He's due to be home any minute and you can't wait to see him, to feel his hands on you, to hold him in your arms.

Eddie's been counting down the minutes from the second he woke up. He's constantly been checking his watch since he knows the exact time he's supposed to be home. He just wants to be with his girl and every second that passes that he can't hold you in his arms is another minute he'll spend checking the time.

You hear the front door open and Eddie steps through it, pushing his suitcase aside as he opens his arms wide for you. You jump into them and wrap your legs around his waist as you bury your face into his neck. Eddie holds you tight, one of his hands moving up and down your back as the other holds onto you.

You pull away and stare at him, those pretty, brown eyes that you always love to look into, that hair you love to run your fingers through, to grab onto when he-

"I missed you, baby," he whispers as he leans close, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

"I missed you too," you mumble against his lips. "So much." You don't even have to tell him that but he loves to hear the words, the loving way you say them.

He kisses you again, this time slotting his lips between yours. It's slow and sweet at first but before you know it, Eddie's tongue is in your mouth and he's setting you on the counter, slotting himself between your legs.

"Need your touch. Need your cock," you tell him. "Wanna feel you."

His hands travel down your sweatpants, pushing them down your legs then tossing them somewhere behind him, followed by your panties. Once they're discarded, he removes his own, precum already leaking from his cock that he slides into you as he spreads your legs wide.

"So tight, baby," he groans as he pushes inside you, his hands digging into your hips as he does so. "Didn't take care of yourself while I was gone?" The question is genuine, not mocking like it may seem.

"I couldn't," you tell him between labored breaths as you buck your hips against his. "It just made me think of you and then I got sad."

"You missed me," he says knowingly. "But I bet you missed my cock even more." Eddie slides all of himself inside you and you moan loudly, bucking your hips again, clenching around him as you do so.

"Fuck," you whine as your back arches. "Touch me," you beg. "Please."

He pumps even harder, your moans getting even louder. His hand reaches up your shirt and cups your breast, giving it a squeeze as his lips find yours in a hot kiss, his tongue taking no time to slide into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth as his thumb moves to your nipple, massaging it. His other hand continues to dig into your hip, pulling you even closer and your legs wrap around his waist, your ankles locking at his back.

His pumps continue and you already feel spent having not done this in months. But it's the best you've felt in so long so you don't dare tell him to stop even though you're close to throwing in the towel.

"See?" He asks as he looks down at where the two of you are connected, his his other hand moving to massage your other nipple. "We've still got it. I'm gonna fuck you on every single surface of this apartment until you can't walk. And then I'm going to carry you to bed where we're going to sleep until the afternoon and them I'm gonna do it all again to show you just how much I missed you."

"Yes, please," you moan as he picks you up, his hands grabbing your ass as he carries you to the couch, setting you down on it before lying on top of you, pumping his cock in and out, in and out as you beg for more, scratching up and down his back in response to how good he's making you feel.

"Just like that," you whine, bucking your hips against his again and again, your nails digging into his back, leaving crescent shapes anywhere you can. You're close, you can feel it.

Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you have the best orgasm of your life, Eddie encouraging you as you do, and once you've come down, you push him so he's the one with his back against the couch, fully intent of riding him until he has an orgasm of his own.

And Eddie fulfills his promise of fucking you on every piece of furniture in the apartment, making you come over and over and he does carry you to bed afterwards where he puts you in one of his t-shirts before pulling you to his chest where you fall asleep soundly, knowing that you have your man back in your arms.

[cassiewritessalot]

thinkin’ bout you ༉‧₊˚.

jj maybank x fem!reader

୨ৎ summary: reader moved away from obx when they were 15 as her dad got offered a better job, in michigan. jj and reader have always had a crush on one another, but what will jj think when he sees her back in obx after 4 years?

୨ৎ warnings: none? lmk if i missed anything!

୨ৎ cassie’s notes: hii!! as requested, here is ‘thinkin’ bout you’, hope u love this one, more coming soon i pinky promise! with love always, cassieeee <3.

7 years old..

y/n walks down the hallway with her sofia the first backup on her back and her hair in two pigtails, trying not bump into any of the older kids. as she approaches her class, she sees her teacher talking to a boy she’s never seen at her school before.

“Don’t worry jj, everyone will want to be your friend, it’s okay.” y/n overhears the teacher whispering to jj before deciding to put her stuff down in class and take her seat.

the bell rings, indicating it’s time for their lessons to start, and y/n’s teacher walks in holding the new boys hand.

“Everyone, i’d like you all to meet jj, let’s all help him feel welcomed!” the teacher exclaimed excitedly and jj had a nervous look on his face, y/n unknowingly had a smile on her face as she observed the boys looks.

“Jj, you may take a seat next to y/n.” the teacher points to y/n’s desk as she raises her hand to help jj locate her better. he walks over and takes a seat next to the girl, feeling his nerves ease up a little.

“hi! i’m y/n l/n,” the girl turns her body slightly to face jj and puts out her hand, waiting for him to shake it.

“i’m jj, jj maybank.” the blond boy greets back and grasps the girls hand, smiling for the first time that day.

11 years old..

“jj slow down!” y/n shouts excitedly as she and jj rush down to the beach, surf boards in their hand. jj decided that today would be the day he teaches y/n how to surf, as he is the best surfer y/n knows.

“hurry up! the waves are just the right size to surf!” the boy exclaims with a wide grin on his face, the two shortly arrive near the shoreline and swim out past the shallow water and jj helps the girl swiftly get onto her board.

“okay, see you got it, now just watch me.” he mumbles, and began to swim out deeper, leaving the girl alone shortly as he catches a wave. he balances effortlessly on his board with his arms wide out, his face glowing with concentration and excitement. the girl clapping her hands together and cheering for the boy, matching his look of excitement.

he then swims back to y/n on his board.

“that was amazing jay!” the girl continues to clap her hands together and praise him.

“thank you y/n/n.” the boy smiled at his best friend.

the rest of the afternoon was filled with laughter, cheers and stolen glances. the two stayed in the water until the sun began to say goodbye and their parents forced them to come home. the two youngsters falling asleep with smiles on their faces.

15 years old..

“jj! c’mon don’t do this!” y/n exclaims with tears coating her eyes. she thought bringing jj to the beach, their favourite place, to break the news would help but unfortunately it didn’t.

“you don’t do this! y/n you’ve been my best friend for 9 freaking years, bro! how do you expect me to be okay with this?” the blond boy raises his voice at her, making her look away from him while shaking her head and rather towards the waves crashing against one another.

“it’s not like we’re never gonna see each other ever again jj! it’s just 4 years.” y/n begins to try and reason with the boy.

“yeah because 4 years isn’t a long time at all,” the boy rolls his blue eyes as he looks at the girl.

“do you really you think i want to leave you jj? because i don’t! but what am i supposed to do?” y/n attempts to reason with jj for the second time.

“y’know what? forget it y/n, you should probably go finish packing your bags.” jj says in a stern voice and then gets up, leaving the girl his heart yearned for.

“jj get back here, don’t walk away from me!” the girl stands up and runs towards where jj is and grabs his wrist, stopping him from walking away.

“please, just wait for me.” the girl pleads with tears slowly running down her face, the blond boy gently wipes the tears away with his thumb but does not say anything. instead, he walks away, leaving her behind, in the sand with more tears threatening to make their escape from her eyes.

she watches jj’s figure disappear, once he’s completely out of her sight, she turns her body to face the ocean, watching the waves hit one another as more tears roll down her face.

the day y/n leaves..

she places the last bag of her items into the car and close the trunk. she had already received farewells from most of her friends like kiara, pope, and john b, even sarah cameron. the kook princess. as she walks away from the car she thinks about jj and their last encounter which was just a few nights ago.

she contemplated with herself multiple times since that evening, asking herself if she wants to see the boy one last time before she leaves, but then again remembering how upset he was. she decided that seeing him in person wouldn’t be the best choice, so as her father shouts at her to get into the car, she pulls out her phone and sends the boy a text.

jayj

jay

wait for me, please.

seen

after seeing the boy left her on seen, she got into the car. she didn’t look back, she refused to look back, but little did she know, jj was sprinting towards her house after seeing the message. he felt bad about the way the conversation went a few nights ago and wanted to make up for it. unfortunately, just as he arrived at her house, he saw the car leaving. he didn’t try to stop it, he knew he’d always wait for her.

4 years later- 19 years old..

y/n kept in touch with almost everyone she was friends with back in obx, everyone except for her jj. she would have weekly video calls with the pogues, finding out all the drama through the grapevine. whenever she asked about jj, it would be the same answer.

“he isn’t here.”

jj knew about the weekly video calls and refused to be in the same room where the call was happening. he couldn’t bare to listen to her voice and know she wouldn’t be in that same room.

he missed her terribly. he missed surfing together on the beach, and watching the stars after. he missed having her in his arms. he missed going on boat rides with her on the HMS pogue. he missed her smile, the way her eyes lit up whenever she saw him. he missed his girl.

she missed her boy. she missed the way his blond hair would flow in the wind as they raced down towards the beach together. she missed how his eyes lit up as he gazed at the ocean. she missed his presence, and the way his arms felt around her.

the week before y/n came back to obx, she only told kiara, sarah and cleo, cleo being the newest addition to the group and y/n couldn’t wait to meet her.

the four girls decided that sarah would make up an excuse, leave the chatue and pick y/n at the airport and then bring her back to the chatue and surprise the group. they all knew it would be risky because of jj, but they were all excited none the less.

the day y/n landed in obx, it was late in the afternoon, she waited patiently for sarah at the airport, sarah’s excuse being that she’s going to go buy some more beer. as sarah arrived at the airport, she alerted y/n. once the two girls found each other, they found themselves in a bone crushing hug. tears coated both of the girls eyes before they made their way back into the vehicle and caught up with one another.

once they arrived back at the chatue, the sun was beginning to set, casting an orange-pink hue in the sky. the pogues were gathered in the backyard, in the hot tub or just lounging around. sarah and y/n quietly walked into the backyard, excitement filling both their bodies.

jj and john b’s back was facing y/n and sarah as the two boys sat in the hot tub, cleo and kiara were standing outside the hot tub as they waited for the other 2 girls arrival and pope was facing jj and john b.

pope was the first to notice that y/n was back, he suddenly got quiet and had a shocked look on his face. jj didn’t notice as he reached to get another beer, however john b and turned around and saw the girl aswell.

they both immediately got out of the hot tub and ran towards the girl who beamed with a smile on her face as she ran towards them aswell, throwing herself into their open arms.

jj noticed the absence of his best friends and turned around to look for where they are. he stopped in his tracks as he saw john b and pope pulling away from the girl he hadn’t seen in 4 years, his eyes going wide. kiara and cleo then pulling her into another bone crushing hug, excitement seething through all of them.

jj slowly stood up from his spot and got out of the hot tub and made his way over towards the group, a look of shock still planted onto his face. as the two girls pulled away from y/n, she locks eyes with jj. the rest of the pogues worried about how the next few minutes will go.

y/n slowly takes a step forward. “hey jayj,” she spoke, her voice barely just above a whisper. jj didn’t say anything, instead, the boy pulled her into a hug. a hug they both needed but never knew they did.

as his arms go around her waist and hers around his neck, tears rolled down the girls face as she was finally in her favourite boy’s arms again. the two hugged in silence as the surrounding pogues watched them with a smile on their faces, happy to see two like how they used to be.

“i missed you.. so damn much y/n/n.” jj mumbles lowly against her ear.

“i missed you more jay, you have no idea..” the girl said, her face burrowed in the blond boy’s chest.

jj finally realised that his girl was back, she was back in his arms, just where was made to be. he then pulls away from the hug with a smile plastered to his face, making the girl smile almost identically to his.

“you’re back.” he said as he swipes his thumb against her cheek, her hand going up to grab it.

“yeah i am..” she says with a smile, her face glowing. the two finally got a good look at each other and realise just how much more attractive they’d become over the 4 years of not seeing each other.

“you guys know we’re still here right?” john b asks making the group burst into laughter.

the rest of the night was filled with lots, and lots of catching up, laughter and beers. the group spent the entire night outside, talking about anything and everything. as time went by, the night went by, most of the pogues went inside the chatue to get some sleep. however, jj and y/n decided to take a walk alone, to their favourite place.

by the time the two got to the beach the sun was slowly beginning to rise, casting a light blue sky as they sat down in the sand together. the two didn’t say anything for a while, they just watched the horizon, until jj spoke softly.

“i waited, by the way, 4 years.” he doesn’t look at the girl, but she turns her head to look at him.

“i know you did, thank you.” the girl spoke, matching the softness he spoke with.

the boy finally turns his head to look at the girl his heart yearned for. when their eyes met, they both start leaning in. as their lips brush against one another, y/n’s arms find themselves around jj’s neck once again and his place themselves on her waist, keeping her in place.

after several minutes of kissing, they both pull away for air.

“i’ve wanted to do that with you since we were 13 y/n.” jj says with his eyes closed as his forehead rests against y/n’s, whose eyes are also closed.

“well now you can’t do it anytime jay.” the girl says as she removes an arm from jj’s neck and finds his hand, interlacing their fingers together.

they pull away from each other, a look of love in both of their eyes, before bursting into giggles. their laughter soon dies down as they gaze at the ocean, the waves are calm, soothing almost.

“i love you.” the girl says after a moment of silence, jj looks down at the sand then back up at her, a gentle smile on his face.

“i love you more, mama.” jj says as he leans forward and places a kiss on her forehead. the girl then rests her head upon his shoulder as they watch the sunrise and waves.

the end..

[toxycodone]

mouthwashing characters when you’re depressed

ship. tulpar crew x reader cw. sfw + fluff/comfort

an. s/o to @xyfanficarchive for the Daisuke ideas!!!! my muse…

Curly

Oh he gets it. Full understands what you’re going through. (You can’t tell me he isn’t on some sort of anxiety/depression meds or at least got a potential diagnosis).

Curly most likely predicted that a depressive episode was coming. Whatever your key “tell” is: whether you start pulling back, issues sleeping, more nonchalant, appetite changes, it starts setting off bells in his head and he’s prepping.

He doesn’t wanna outright ask “are you depressed?” (He doesn’t know how to approach the subject at first really). So he just acts/reacts accordingly. He makes meals, helps you shower/bathe (he’s not gonna force you every day but if you go 2 or more days without it he’s putting you in there himself).

He even does little things like making sure you wash your face at least once a day and brush your teeth too.

Honestly, he does enjoy taking care of you. I think this is how he’d show he loves you for real. Even when you’re at your lowest you’re worth caring for. (It also distracts from his own issues buuuuut. That’s another story.)

My only qualm is I think he has that “toxic positivity” mindset unknowingly. He’s always like “it’s gonna get better! you need to drink more water/take vitamins/work out!” (these are just things he’s constantly telling himself tbh).

But Curly isn’t stupid. Like he will quickly pick up that’s not working for you and not what you need to hear and shift into a “shut up and help out” mindset. He moves from self help mode to just being there for you. I really have this mental image of him just hugging you on the couch and talking about his day. Sneaking in a few kisses or just giving compliments. But also if you’re not into that he just rubs your back while you bedrot. You’re quiet but enjoying time together and you know he’s there for you.

Jimmy

Been there, done that.

Okay, but seriously. He’s not to pressed at first. He’s basically living between bouts of depression, general neutrality, and mania. So this just seems like an inevitable “phase” you gotta go through.

But this is what makes him the most realistic when dealing with this. Jimmy isn’t gonna baby you or anything. He’s just like “it be like that” forreal. And unlike curly he’s not gonna rebuttal with reasons why life is great and why you shouldn’t be sad, he’s gonna agree. You say life is shit? Yeah, Jimmy 100% agrees. You two commiserate and it’s actually really cathartic because for once someone doesn’t make you feel crazy for being so down when there’s “so much to live for”.

He self medicates when he’s depressed. You’re getting offered pills or alcohol or a blunt or something. Whether you take it is up to you.

I can say Jimmy, for once, would stay sober. If he’s in a good enough mental state he’ll take one for the team and trip sit you or whatever so you can get that nice dopamine rush in peace.

Jimmy thinks it’s insane that he’s doing this, but when you’re depressed, and like really depressed—going through one of those terrible phases he’s been through before, he genuinely feels sympathetic. And it prompts him to do things he never thought. By that I mean doing your laundry, cooking what he can, making the bed. He doesn’t really get why, but he wants to do this and only for you. He really is angry about the fact no one has done this for him when he was in the same boat, but the thought of you having to suffer like he did? Just no. He’s gonna pitch in. He just has to.

But again, he’s best for commiserating. You two bitch heavily about how much the world sucks over way too many beers on his back porch. Probably throw rocks or smash junk while absolutely hammered, too. Then the next morning you’re hungover as shit and spend the day recovering before it’s back to “it is what it is.” Like yeah, it sucks and you feel like shit, but at least you have each other in your corners. If one of you is still kicking, it’s only fair the other is too.

Anya

Like Curly, she knew this was coming a mile away. Anya is not stupid. She’s spent so much time with her nose in psychology books that she gets tipped off insanely fast.

Unlike Curly though, she wants to address the problem. Anya starts gently at first with a simple “are you okay?” It opens the floor for you to be honest. And if you aren’t willing to talk about it or if you mask it with an “I’m fine!” She just. Frowns. Anya does not believe it, but she’s not gonna force you.

Until you start with more textbook symptoms. Then she’s like “I think you might be having a depressive episode.” She’s not letting you dance around it by then. You two are facing this head on.

and the good thing is that you guys talk about it. Like actually talk. Anya listens, lets you say your peace. Nods in understanding and shows you she’s actively taking her time to understand you. Then instead of giving her two cents, she asks you what you want her to do. Anya wants to know how she can help you in the moment and in the long run.

And she does it! Whatever she’s able to, she’s gonna do it. Anya is a really reliable partner and just truly solid. It can be anything from sharing a shower, ordering takeout and chilling on the couch, or even if you just need her to be in the same room but leave you the fuck alone—she’s there for you.

She’s definitely recommending tips from psychology books too. Journaling, eating spicy foods, getting a little exercise if possible—you guys go down a laundry list to help kick this episode in the butt.

And then when the time comes, you two have a good conversation about therapy/medication. (Don’t worry she won’t offer to be your therapist and encourages you to see a neutral third party you can be honest with)

Daisuke

Okay…Daisuke is a bit of a mixed bag. I think he’s been sad, but not truly depressed.

He doesn’t catch the warning signs, so at first when it hits, Daisuke just thinks you’re in a bit of a funk. It’s okay! He’s been through this before. And he’s happy to help you out of it!

Daisuke takes you to the arcade, thrifting, maybe on a little shopping spree…but when that doesn’t work (or when he can’t even encourage you to do it in the first place), Dai hits a wall.

He’s confused. And worried. Really worried about you. This depends on you as a person and whether it makes you feel better or worse, but I think it’s very visible how your depressive episodes affect him. Until he really understands what it is and what it means, Daisuke’s really fretting when this happens.

And so…he voices that concern. “I just noticed that you seem sad. Like, really sad. And I don’t know what to do!” So!! He asks!! What can he do to help you? Or do you even want his help?

And whatever your answer is, he does it. He’ll give you reminders that he loves you, takes care of you, even binges shitty tv shows over even more terrible for you junk food. As long as he can just keep showing he’s there for you and that you’re worth it. That he loves you even when you’re at your lowest…that’s what matters the most.

And just being the goof he is, he’s gonna do things to make you smile. Dancing around the kitchen, showing you his playlist of funny TikToks, cracking some stupid jokes he may or may not have stolen from Twitter. Any time he can crack even a hint of a smile he’s fist pumping and celebrating.

And then…he is probably going to recommend therapy. (He has an awesome adhd therapist he’s working w so. He’s singing the praises for it to you.)

Swansea

Oddly enough I really see him similar to Jimmy. Swansea’s so realistic he’s just like “you’re depressed? Yeah life sucks, so what? You keep going.”

But he’s smart enough to not be like “just get off your ass”. He takes pity on you, whether he likes it or not. Seeing you out of your element does make him upset.

He’s a comiserater, but he’s always going to counter with like “but we keep going anyways.” And if you’re like “but why?” He’s like “why not?”

Like yeah, shit isn’t always good, so you settle for mediocrity. Because the mundane can actually be really nice. Swansea’s a simple pleasures man—good coffee, good food, good times spent relaxing either alone or with the ones you love. That’s what makes it all worth it.

Swansea’s like “you can have your little moments where it all seems like shit, but eventually you gotta face the music and go back to reality.”

He’s a very grounding presence, though. I’ll give him that. He’s also 100% going to cook for you. And you can tell he cares because he has difficulty leaving you alone. He hopes that you seeing him doing stuff. Persisting. That it’ll give you some hope.

and when you start getting more back to normal, showing interest again in your usual hobbies or responsibilities—you can see a weight visibly lift off his shoulders.

[starmocha]

‘tis the damn season and deck them goddamned halls [Sylus/Reader ★ 1800 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Onychinus’ base gets a festive makeover. Day 01 — to: my true love (Sylus/Reader) Day 02 — do you want to build a snowman? (it doesn't have to be a snowman) (Zayne/Reader) Day 03 — in a gingerbread house built for two (Rafayel/Reader) Day 04 — you shine like the stars, you light up my heart (Xavier/Reader) A/N: I did not mean to skip this many days. I had an iron deficiency that left me physically weak and unable to focus for days. But I’m backkk now. Gonna try to churn out a few stories to catch up with the schedule. 😭😭😭 I had this idea planned since the beginning of this series, but the other day, the Sylus RP blog @sylus-qin and I ended doing a mistletoe plot too. Completely different from this, but I still wanted to give a shoutout <3 Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia 【 request to be added 】

Throughout Linkon City, citizens were getting ready for the merry season. Garlands and festive lights were strung high in the city square, and holiday music blared from stores seemingly nonstop.

The moment you stepped into the N109 Zone, however, you noticed the drastic change. It wasn’t that the citizens of the N109 Zone didn’t celebrate Christmas, but the atmosphere felt much more subdued in comparison to the lively Linkon City. You saw a few decorations here and there. Shops (the reputable ones at least) were doing Christmas-themed sales, and you heard some Christmas songs every now and then.

In spite of all that, though, there was one place in the N109 Zone that did feel completely devoid of all signs of the approaching holiday.

Onychinus’ base.

“It’s so dark and dreary here.”

“It’s always dark and dreary here.”

“Don’t you want to make it festive?”

“Not particularly.”

“…”

“But if a certain kitten wants to ‘deck the halls,’ then by all means, go ahead.”

“You could’ve just said yes.”

“Do you want my card?”

“Yes.”

Armed with Sylus’ highly-valued black card and two of his trusted henchmen, Operation: Turn Onychinus’ base into a holly jolly wonderland was underway!

Since Luke and Kieran both refused to take off their masks, you reluctantly decided to do your shopping around the N109 Zone and made a few online orders for whatever other decorations you decided you needed.

Within a few days, shopping bags and packages full of garlands, lights, ornaments, and random knickknacks were strewn in the parlor just waiting for your creative touch. You beamed proudly, already humming happily Deck the Halls as you lay everything out neatly. A sudden shadow overcast you, the imposing presence looming behind you had you looking up curiously and meeting the amused smirk of Onychinus’ feared leader.

“Sweetie, I gave you my card.”

“…yeah?”

“…did you even buy anything?”

“What do you mean?! I bought a ton!”

“But you’ve only spent $1,000.”

“…don’t you have a gun you need to go bid on or something?”

After shooing Sylus away, you gotten to work decorating every single room, all of the halls, and not leaving a single crevice free from your festive vision. You worked nonstop for hours, commandeering whichever unfortunate Onychinus henchmen who passed by you, and roping them into your Yuletide operation.

“A little higher…higher…higher…too high—”

“Miss Hunter,” Kieran interrupted you from atop his ladder. You couldn’t see his face, but from his tone alone, you surmised he was rolling his eyes at you, about exasperated with the hours of you barking out orders to the twins.

“This was where we had the garland ten minutes ago,” Luke finished his brother’s thought, his tone much more explicit.

“Oh,” you said sheepishly, squinting, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” both twins answered.

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Maybe a little lower—”

They both ignored you and proceeded to hang the garland as is. You huffed in annoyance, but before you could get another word out, you noticed Mephisto perching nearby on a console table. You glared.

“Sylus!”

Mephisto squawked in shock and started flapping his wings, flying away as you chased after the mechanical crow.

“Mephie! I know you were spying on me for Sylus!” you yelled after the bird as you dashed down the hallway, “Get back here, you snoop!”

Luke and Kieran stared at one another, sighing.

Suddenly, Luke piped up, “Actually, maybe Miss Hunter is right and this could be low—"

He watched his brother climbed down his ladder and walked away. Luke grumbled, “So…am I supposed to finish decorating the hallway by myself now?”

“Caw! Caw! Caw-caw!”

“Don’t you ‘caw-caw’ at me, you traitor!” you screamed as you stumbled into Sylus’ study just as Mephisto landed on the young Onychinus leader’s shoulder. He looked up at you, his brow quirking up in question as you continued to argue with the mechanical crow. He sighed as his once quiet study was now filled with the argumentative squawking from both you and Mephisto.

“Sweetie, is everything okay?” he asked patronizingly, interrupting both you and the mechanical crow. He didn’t even attempt to hide his amusement when you turned to glare at him, clearly unpleased with his condescending tone.

“You were spying on me!”

“I was not,” he answered, mildly offended by the accusation. “I’ve been in my study all afternoon.”

“You had Mephisto spying on me!”

“Mephisto is free to roam as he pleased,” Sylus answered calmly, though you still had suspicions. Sylus sighed and motioned for the mechanical crow to leave. Mephisto appeared upset, but he did hop off Sylus’ shoulder and flew out of the room without complaint. You glared at the open door, only turning around when Sylus called your name.

“I’ve already seen your progress earlier,” Sylus said, “Is there a particular reason you suddenly don’t want me to know about your little project?”

Your shoulders slumped, feeling a little embarrassed now, as if you were a child being reprimanded for throwing a temper tantrum. “I wanted it to be a surprise,” you admitted, and Sylus smiled. “I wanted to see your reaction once everything was done.”

Sylus stood up from his desk and made his way over to you. You kept your sight lowered, too embarrassed to look him in the eye now after your silly little hissy fit.

“Look at me,” Sylus said firmly.

You hesitated.

“Sweetie, I said look at me,” Sylus repeated, his tone sharper, making you flinched before you slowly looked up, surprised to see his gentle smile.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “I’m already touched that you wanted to do this,” he said, “And I already know I love everything that you’ve done so far, so why are you fretting so much? It is just a holiday.”

“Can’t you at least be a little surprised or…” You furrowed your brows.

He shook his head, laughing to himself at your frustrated expression. “Are you upset now that I am not overtly excited?”

“Well, no,” you admitted quietly, “I can’t really see you jumping for joy or gushing or…”

Sylus watched in amusement as you continued to mumble to yourself. “Have you decorated the tree yet?”

“Hm?” You looked up, surprised when Sylus questioned you. Slowly, you shook your head, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

“Then, why don’t we do this next part together?”

“…you actually want to decorate something?”

“No,” he answered, taking your hand in his, “But I do enjoy spending time with you. I don’t particularly care about the activity itself.”

You started to smile again. “Okay,” you said at last, “I was saving the tree for last, but…I want to decorate it with you as well.”

“Couldn’t we—ah!” You startled, frightened as you suddenly felt the ground disappeared and you were floating several feet high with only the tendrils of the red and black mist Sylus controlled supporting you. You gripped tightly the star topper in your hands. “Sylus—we could’ve used a ladder!”

He shrugged dismissively, and casually made a motion with his hand. You suddenly found yourself floating near the top of the Christmas tree, your feet dangling a little, unused to this weightless feeling of being suspended in the air for so long. After half an hour of decorating the tree with lights and an assortment of different ornaments, the only thing that was left was the topper for the tree. You carefully placed the star topper, smiling when it appeared to be aligned straight and perfectly.

Your joy was brief as without warning and within seconds, you suddenly found yourself descending rapidly, your cries stopping only once you found yourself cradled in Sylus’ strong arms, and his haughty face was peering down at you in amusement at your reddened cheeks.

You feebly glared at him. “You—!”

He chuckled. “The tree looks nice, sweetie,” he complimented you with sincerity, and your expression softened, though you were still mildly upset, feeling your heart still racing from the earlier adrenaline you had experienced at his mercy.

“Next time, you can put the topper on the tree,” you half-grumbled. Sylus agreed affably to your words.

In that moment, you noticed Mephisto had flown into the room, though Sylus himself seemed unsurprised by the mechanical bird’s presence. You blinked in confusion, noticing Mephisto was circling above you two, carrying a particular bundle of foliage in his beak.

“Why is Mephisto carrying parsley in his beak?”

“Parsle—what is wrong with your head?”

Sylus lowered his face down closer to yours. He smirked when he saw your smile, quickly catching on that you were messing with him just seconds earlier. He settled you back down to your feet, but he didn’t allow much space between you two. His face inched closer to yours and his thumb brushed over your lips, amused when he noticed you trembling from just the light touch. “Teasing me, are you?”

“I mean…just a little bit,” you said, feeling a growing dread upon seeing Sylus’ smile and sensing his imposing aura that almost wanted to engulf you. You nervously swallowed, wondering what was going on in his head.

“Should a kitten be so naughty this close to Christmas?” Sylus questioned you with a smirk, continuing, “What if good ol’ St. Nick puts you on his naughty list at the last minute?”

You pouted when he squeezed your face. You gripped his arm with both hands, grumbling, “What about you? Aren’t you expecting a lifetime supply of coals?”

“Indeed,” Sylus agreed to your annoyance. He loosened his grip on your face, his touch gentler now as he guided your lips closer to his. His voice was low, soft and only audible to you, “There is one festive tradition I wouldn’t mind practicing.”

“Which is…” There was a growing knot in your stomach, already suspecting that you knew what he had meant. With Mephisto’s sudden presence after Sylus’ earlier suggestion to decorate the Christmas tree together, you couldn’t help but wondered if all of this had been some elaborate ploy of his that you had gullably let yourself be manipulated into. You hesitantly voiced your thought aloud, the knot in your belly twisting tighter at his amused laugh and sudden confession.

“I confess,” he husked, taking your lips greedily for himself. You gasped against his kisses, surrendering yourself to him almost immediately. Lost to Sylus’ relentless kisses, you didn’t even notice when Mephisto landed on the mantle, the mistletoe still in his beak as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. Almost embarrassed, the mechanical crow looked away, his head tucked into his wing, as you and Sylus continued to kiss next to the newly decorated and brightly lit Christmas tree, its warm glow seeming to welcome the approaching holiday with wonderous joy.

[raayllum]

Arc 3 Predictions Electric Boogaloo

Because there's certain stuff that makes a Lot more sense now even as we're left with more questions, so let's talk about it.

Aaravos and the Cosmic Order / Claudia

So Aaravos wanted to take down the elves and dragons. Now the archdragons are all gone circa S7, which means he can hit the ground running upon his return in seven years. This means that the next target can fully be the Cosmic Council outright, and more recontextualization about how creating Eternal Night would make them suffer (though I don't think he'll repeat plans).

I could see him giving instructions / ideas to Claudia through dreams or visions, and she's armed with her amulet in the meantime and will maybe track down a replacement staff since she doesn't have one anymore. (Or she'll want to steal it back from Callum since it was a product of both her 'fathers'.) Other antagonists such as Finnegrin (maybe) and Kim'Dael (more definitely) will likely be interwoven.

That said, I think there'll be plenty of conflict already for our protagonists to deal with even before any of our old foes show up again.

Aanya + the Fire Ruby Project / Ezran & Zym

With the arrows temporarily able to dispose of Aaravos (even if I mandate he let himself get chained down in 7x07 in order to manipulate Ezran) and his imminent return, Ez and Aanya have an incentive to keep going with Project Ruby Fire. However, we also know thanks to interviews that Aanya has an adoptive brother, and from Tales of Xadia that:

The city is more fortified of late, as there are rumours of internal treason. The farmers worry that young Queen Aanya isn’t old enough or wise enough to protect what’s been built over the centuries.

So what I'm thinking is that adoptive brother Grark may pull a Karim and work on the project behind his sister's back or stage a coup. This could also put Ezran at odds with Zym, as Project Ruby Fire was designed specifically to be good at defeating dragons and to be so destructive that the mere threat of them would be enough (but, of course like the Mage Wars, someone's gonna use it). Having deeper, more politically / personally driven conflicts between Ezran and Zym (he had conflict with one brother, and now another) is also possible now that Zym can speak, and I think they'll take full advantage of it.

Ez and Zym together have always represented Hope the most (3x06), as Ezran found the egg, they're the two young princes turned kings, and are spearheading things forward.

So what happens if/when they start to crack? This could also provide a contrast to Janai and Amaya, as their new nieces/nephews through Miyana and Karim could provide a conflict. Even though the kids themselves will be too young and Miyana convinced to walk a different path, that doesn't mean they won't be used or treated as symbols by somebody else to sow more conflict.

Evrkynd and Elarion

The choice to establish a new city to show the growing unity between elves and dragons makes sense, but it made me wonder why do it now and not as an end-of-arc 3 idea. Then I considered that perhaps it's to set up Everkynd as an Elarion parallel: a glistening, shining city, where after it fell the land was divided and more chaos ensued.

Only Evrkynd will emerge and stand the test of time, of course, with the connection between the two halves being maintained and strengthened. But still, a thought I'll probably have something more eloquent for later.

Callum, Corruption, and the Cube (+ Rayla)

Was thinking over 6x06's "the darkness and corruption will overwhelm you" in addition to the choice in S6 to establish that Callum's father died of a chronic illness / the consistent comparison to dark magic as a plague/infection/sickness (2x08, 5x01, 5x03, 5x04, 5x09, etc). The options I'd considered for how the corruption would manifest post usage usually fell into two camps: instantaneous and complete, or gradual and ongoing. I'd thought the second one would be interesting for a mid-season dark magic use, speculating it'd be like the shadowmonsters in taking a few days or longer for something to take.

I certainly didn't think it'd be a process over Years, but given the seven year timeskip...

I'm picturing something like Callum still taking mushroom salves or potions regularly from Muhko (hence that inclusion for Zubeia) to stave off corruption overwhelm, and giving him parallels to Damian. This would also potentially enhance the feeling of "living on borrowed time" he and everyone, but him and Rayla in particular, are bound to feel as they know they have Limited Time before Aaravos comes back.

I'm also curious as to how openly or how much Callum will be studying dark magic, even in comparison to before ("Well, I've read a lot about it"). He has Viren-Claudia's relic staff, and the corrupted sun stone within it, so there could be interesting ideas or experiments there. The fact that Callum has the Staff and the Cube and the white streak does not bode well for him.

An additional assumption is that Callum will go to Elarion offscreen (cause that is a Long skip) but be unable to find what he's unknowingly looking for (the primal magic book?). I also don't think at this point I have to go into much more detail about CHET given that we've been here with the theory for 4 years, and pieces of evidence at the time that felt like a stretch are now being incorporated, such as:

The Cube pointing to Elarion, which was incredibly important to ancient humanity and Aaravos

Elarion poem is associated with nature (flowers of elarion) and dark-light motif

Rayla is Callum's light in the darkness and his destructive path. She was prepared to destroy him (7x09) and will likely save him in the future.

The flowers of Elarion were involved in a story where they were seen as gifts / "fair exchanges of beloved for beloved". Then Rayla, by Aaravos' own word, was described as Callum's "beloved" (7x09).

The entire conversation with Dark!Callum and the cube in the woods in 7x06 but especially "If you love her, you'll be the you that can save her" and "I have always been a part of you."

Basically: it's not over till the cube is plot relevant and all the foreshadowing / lines of dialogue surrounding it have come full circle in some manner. In Arc 3 we trust.

Misc Predictions / Ideas

that didn't belong anywhere else!

Given that we know Aanya has her older brother and Prince Kasef has a younger sibling, I think it'd be interesting if they teamed up to try and stage mutual coups or something.

Since the archdragons are gone, I'm curious what project ruby fire would be used against. Maybe just other dragons? Or invoking stuff from the past mage wars.

More info on the relic staffs and self-eating I think for sure can be expected, as well as what happened to make Kpp'Ar completely change his mind.

I'm expecting S8 to be catch up and set up much the way that S1 and S4 were.

There are river pirates between Duren and Neolandia (Tales of Xadia) so I could see Finnegrin being woven back in there, although I'd love to go back to Scumport and see any changes Elmer has made.

Kim'Dael feels like a 2 season antagonist to me, in order to reintroduce her (maybe Aaravos inverting the Moon Nexus set her free) and then to draw on her history with the Moon Fam (Bloodmoon Huntress graphic novel).

A lot more lore on the Startouch elves / I'm fairly certain Shiruakh was a star devourer dragon

Aaravos making the Cosmic Council mortal, etc etc.

Sol Regem lore and backstory

[p0ckykiss]

i'd do it all again (if it was with you) - jeon jungkook

summary -> jungkook is faced with a tough decision, and you just want the best for him.

warnings -> angst, zombie apocalypse, major character death

jungkook slams the door behind him, throwing his body weight onto the rickety wood. his chest is on fire and his breathing is erratic. he looks across to see you in a similar state in front of him and grimaces.

the two of you are sticky with blood and sweat, just barely escaping a horde of undead with their bodies unscathed. jungkook sinks down, now sitting against the door. he takes in the state you are in, both of your chests still heaving from the chase.

“y/n that was fucking insane!” jungkook exclaims, a glimmer of relief flashes in his eyes. your expression remains vacant. jungkook continues on in enthusiasm .

“we were fucking amazing, that was such a close call, holy shit,” he groans in pain, but is quickly replaced with excitement, probably from the residual adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

“jung-”

“they almost had us! It was so close, but luckily we pulled through,” he’s almost laughing at this point, voice heightening in pitch.

“listen, I-”

“and near the end? when that one almost got me? fuck and then you pulled tha-”

“I got bit.” you deadpan. jungkook falls silent, staring at you like you just grew a second head.

you lift your left arm, just above your elbow, a bite the size of a tennis ball sat disgustingly. jungkook’s body goes numb and suddenly it’s so hard to breathe. he continues to stare at the wound for what feels like an eternity, shaking his head in disbelief.

“no, no no no no no no no no no.” jungkook repeats, now standing from the door, pacing in circles in the cramped bunker. he runs his hands through his hair in panic, aggressively pulling at the roots. frankly, jungkook has no idea what to do. he knew that it was always a possibility for one of them to get bitten, but he always thought it would be him, not you, and he sure as hell didn’t think it would happen anytime soon. fuck, this couldn’t be happening. a whine from you interrupts jungkook’s thoughts.

“listen to me, gguk, you know what to do.” you say between breaths, you groan as you reach at your waist, pulling out a small handgun. your head leans back, and you blindly shove the device toward jungkook.

jungkook’s world is spinning. he feels disgusted. the adrenaline from earlier quickly clears out and is replaced with a dismal dread that eats away at his mind.

“this wasn’t supposed to happen to you, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. oh my god y/n, I’m so sorry, ohmygod.” jungkook’s words collide into one another in a jumbled mess of gibbering panic. his breaths are erratic and rushed as he sobs violently. he still hasn’t grabbed the gun from you. 

“this is my fault, gguk,I wasn’t careful. I guess you were right, I am gonna get myself killed one day,” you laugh, referring to jungkook constantly patronizing you for your recklessness on the field.

you both go silent for a moment, and all jungkook wants to do is vomit. this couldn’t be happening. you were doing so well, you could’ve lived through this. you were supposed to be happy. he laughs audibly, feeling so stupid for even thinking he’d be given the luxury. now, his whole world was laid on the metal floor of a rickety old bunker, in god knows where, with a deadly bite on your arm.

“just fucking do it, put me out of my fucking misery, jungkook.” you pause for a moment, breathing deeply before continuing.

“I don’t know how much longer I have.” jungkook legs give up on him and he collapses to the floor.

he reaches towards the metal contraption with shaky hands. jungkook’s handled guns plenty of times, loves the rush of it, but now, he’s never felt more disgusted with himself. the device felt heavy in his hands, he feels bile rising in his throat. he didn’t know if it was because it was the gun y/n never let him touch, the one you prided yourself in owning, or if it was because he was about to kill the love of his life. probably the latter.

he stands up once again, head pounding with pain. his body is sore, and he can’t feel his legs, yet he manages to stand straight. grimacing, he cocks the gun back, pointing it to you. you look up at jungkook, and smile.

“working with you,” your words cut off with a pained groan. jungkook’s lip quivers.

“…made everything worth it, all the pain,” you cough out violently, trails of blood following suit before continuing. “I’d do it all again… if it was with you.”

“keep living, for me. you have to.” you speak up one more time, choking between your words. “I love you… so much, kook.”

looking away from you, he shuts his eyes, and jungkook feels his soul tear as a deafening shot rips through the air.

[scoobydoodean]

sorry if this is old/annoying disk horse, or it's addressed later on in canon (i haven't been in the fandom long and i'm on season 6 of the show), but what do you think about john winchester being another righteous man? do you think he really was, or it was mostly just a manipulation tactic (from, if i am remembering correctly, the angels)? i remember the show saying he went through 100 years of torture and didn't break, which was a bit wild to me, but y'know what, sure. alternatively, any thoughts on the fan theory from samgirls that sam is (unintentionally) the righteous man?

feel free to ignore if this is not your thing, or if it really is just annoying disk horse to go through, but i'd love to know your thoughts.

"The righteous man" is a story familiar to the angels and the demons. The prophecy foretold about the righteous man was that he would 1) shed blood in hell, breaking the first seal, and 2) be the only one who could end the apocalypse.

The bit about John being the original righteous man and not breaking on the rack was Alastair's manipulation tactic in 4.16 "On The Head Of A Pin":

I had your pop on my rack for close to a century. [...] John Winchester. Made a good name for himself. A hundred years. After each session, I'd make him the same offer I made you. I'd put down my blade if he picked one up. [...] But he said nein each and every time. Oh, damned if I couldn't break him.

And then a little later:

ALASTAIR: You know, it was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you. DEAN: Bring what on? ALASTAIR: Oh, every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father. And finally you said, "Sign me up." Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch... That was the first seal. DEAN: You're lying. ALASTAIR: And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break. We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, right? Topple the one at the front of the line. When we win, when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this earth down, we'll owe it all to you, Dean Winchester. Believe me, son, I wouldn't lie about this. It's kind of a religious sort of thing with me.

John was never "the righteous man" meant to shed blood in hell though, so Alastair is lying at least in part (when he says it was "supposed" to be John). The concept of "the righteous man" originates with the angels/god, and Gabriel says in 5.08 that the archangels were always told it would be Dean and Sam who would be the vessels of the apocalypse who would end things, for the purpose of narrative symmetry with Michael and Lucifer.

You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other. [...] Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always.

@swordofsun makes an excellent case here that while the angels knew Dean was "the righteous man" the whole time, the demons may have believed it was John they needed for a time. However, there's also reason to suspect the demons found out rather early that John wasn't the person they needed to break (Dean is offered a crossroads deal to trade his soul for John's by 2.08) so it's unlikely John was tortured for anywhere near 100 years in Alastair-torture-chamber-time. Alastair has a motive to twist the truth. He's noticing water dripping from a pipe about to break the devil's trap, and wants Dean distracted so he doesn't have time to warn Cas and Uriel. Alastair is also an extreme sadist, and he knows that John is a sore spot and that telling Dean not just that he broke the first seal but that his father was supposed to break it but was unbreakable would cause Dean immense emotional pain. It's not only something that causes Dean to feel incredible shame and guilt, but continues the narrative of Dean inheriting burdens intended for John that he can't carry.

any thoughts on the fan theory from samgirls that sam is (unintentionally) the righteous man?

Alright. So. In the sense that Sam shoves Michael and Lucifer in The Cage thus "ending" the apocalypse it was foretold only "the righteous man" could end, I get what the argument is here. The problem is that from a practical standpoint, Sam doesn't break the first seal, so he already isn't the righteous man because of that. Additionally, Dean's arrival at Stull Cemetery is what actually allows Sam to take control over his body again. Without Dean showing up, Sam would never have taken back control of his body and the apocalypse would have happened anyway. So in a sense, the prophecy still transpires in a roundabout way through Dean breaking the first seal, then ending the apocalypse by showing up at Stull, making Lucifer angry (which destabilizes his control) while drawing Sam's consciousness to the surface so he can shove Lucifer and Michael into The Cage.

Practicalities of whether Sam fits the prophecy aside, I think the desire to frame Sam as the righteous man likely comes from a misplaced belief that the title of "righteous man" conveys actual status. The title of "righteous man" itself was a manipulative tactic intended to instill a sense of duty in Dean (that honestly worked very poorly because Dean simply isn't like Michael) and a sense of envy and inadequacy in Sam that would drive the brothers apart. The concept of "the righteous man" wasn't ever an honor or reward. It was a burden and a horror. It was a title bestowed on someone intended to be horrifically tortured, used, objectified, and forced to kill his own brother for the (alleged) "greater good". It is a huge mistake to envy that title and see it as a sign of status instead of shoving aside the curtain hiding the Wizard of Oz and recognizing that "the righteous man" and "the boy king of hell" were glorified titles for angel condoms being manipulated and used.

[local-hyena]

Allright allright, I think I'm ready now...

TF2 COMIC 7

Saying "I loved it" would be an understatement. It was PERFECT, the perfect ending we deserved. It's been seven goddamn years, I honestly didn't think this issue would ever be released. I started getting into tf2 only recently, about a year ago I think. I hope everyone who've been there from the beginning are happy.

This last issue gave us SO MANY THINGS ! A TIME SKIP WITH THE MERC'S FUTURE ! I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY ALL GOT THE "THEY GOT HOME AND BUILT FAMILIES AND REUNITE FOR CHRISTMAS" TYPE OF FUTURE THAT LITERALLY ALL FANFICS ARE ABOUT. SINGLE DAD SCOUT IS THE GREATEST CHARACTER DEVELOPPEMENT POSSIBLE.

WE ALSO GOT LITERALLY EVERYTHING WE WERE HOPING FOR. WE GOT UNMASKED SPY, WE GOT PAULING'S FIRST NAME, WE GOT SCOUT'S LAST NAME, SCOUT WITH AN UGLY HAIRCUT, WE EVEN GOT PYRO'S DOG AND MEDIC'S BABOON, TOM JONES IS BACK. ALSO HEAVY HAS A BEARD NOW, AND SOLDIER AND ZHANNA HAVE CHILDREN !!

there are of course still unanswered things. However, the fact that the Administrator forgot why she wanted revenge on Mann really adds to her character and the overall story. Also, it seems that Scout still odesn't know that Spy is his father, since he introduces himelf to Scout's children as Scout's coworker... Scout's ma is also noticably absent, I do not want to think about it too much, since Demo's mother is still alive, there is no reason she wouldn't be as well. We're gonna say that she's spending Christmas with another son, since she doesn't really take an important rôle in the comic... Also, as a Medic main, THERE WAS NO MEDIC CONTENT. LIKE, I KNOW THAT THE LAST COMIC WAS VERY MEDIC AND HEAVY FOCUSED, BUT STILL. I always need more Medic content 😭😭 glad to see that Archimedes is here also !

Also, Merasmus why are you so ripped 😂😂 he looks ugly as ever.

I am so very happy that Hale and Olivia both got fired from MannCo. They are finally happy now, with Hale going back with Mags fighting animals and going on other dangerous adventures.

There is ONE lats thing I need to point out. No, two things. First, I wonder what Valve will do now. Now that Team Fortress 2's story has come to an end. What will happen ? Is the game going to stop updating ? Or on the contrary will they go back to working on it ? Is there going to be a Team Fortress 3 ? Or is Team Fortress simply going to end on this perfect note ?

Finally, the ending. It took me a while to understand that the last dinner scene was adressing directly to us, the reader, the player. When I understood that, it hit le right in the heart. I cannot say that tf2 has been à huge part of my life. Like I said, I only got interested last year or so. I don't even oike the game itself that much, online multiplayer competitive FPSs are not my preferred genre. But the story, the characters and what the community makes (yes, the funny GMod machinimas and SFM movies. The memes and the serious stuff, both of them) made me learn to enjoy this universe. I must confess something. For some time, I played Fortnight with my brother. He made me try because I kept saying that I didn't like it, but I hadnd't poayed the game. After my first game, I said that I had some fun, in the end. So, he kinda forced le to play. For... idk, a few years. I do nlt remember the dates but I started the season with the Nomad skin as the ultimate reward, and stopped when there were hoverboards, or whatever they were. I didn't enjoy it because he insisted on being super competitive and was raging 90% of the time. So yeah, I hated every second of it and I vowed to not play competitive online multiplier games anymore. Which is why I absolutly refuse to play Overwatch and League of Legends. I wouldn't say that Team Fortress 2 reconciled me woth these type of games, but after watching all the Meet the Mercs and learning more about the story, I tried playing. I was a bit intimidated as to which class to choose, but after trying out several (and being very influenced by Meet the Medic), I found out that I had the most fun while playing Medic. I do nlt have a very good aim and I tend to die immediatly when I try to shoot at people. I also discovered that, playing an online multiplayer game doesn't have to be competitive. I have 9h30 in tf2, I play very casually. I do not get mad when I die or my team loses, because in the end, I just want to have fun in my own way. So, this ending hit me right in the heart

I... I almost want to print that last panel and hang it on my wall... I know, there's nothing stopping me, but I don't want my family to question it.

Anyways. That was tf2 comic issue 7. I cannot wait to see what the future will bring for our mercs !

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Damn that ivy fic hurt so good I need another.

How about ivy x reader but iii is in love with reader too but always thought she only loved him as an older brother but on a random friday she‘s tipsy and confessed to him that she had a huge crush on him but he never made a move but ivy did and she eventually fell in love with him?

Love in depths of silence

iii had always been a class clown. Never cared much for it. Never cared that he looked silly or unserious. He enjoyed it. Letting his bubbly personality show. It was him being his true self just… minus the deeply loving and caring side. When you had walked in with just as much sas he knew you were gonna get along just fine. And boy had he underestimated.

Crew often joked that you two should never be left alone unsupervised because if not one then the other was dancing on top of the tables or trying to prove that one could lift the leg higher than the other. There was constant laughter with you. Genuine one. One that made him giddy inside for hours as he thought back on it. But there was also a deeper part to this. One where you two would only have to look at one another to feel it. The pull. The slowly growing desire. They say that eyes never lied and in this case, they did the most talking.

When the flirting started it was hard to distinguish it from silly banter. So the push and pull started. That night in London after the fully sold-out arena happened. The thrill of it all. The buzzing in the air. The pins and needles in the fingers. The dim back room. iii’s hand in your hair as he pressed you against the wall. That kiss had it all. The longing. The desire. The love blossoming in silence. You had been the outlet and then when he had seen your big eyes looking back at him as he pulled away. He had panicked. Fully panicked he spewed something about this being a mistake as he stumbled back into the main room.

It had all shifted after that. For a handful of weeks, you two had fully ignored each other. iii knew that he had to be the one who had to take the first step. But how do you make a comeback after that? So he waited. Watched. You slowly went back to a somewhat similar banter. And after thinking of it for days he had finally bit the dust and went up to your hotel room. Palms sweating as he waited for you to answer. “Hey”, your cheeks were flushed, only a button-up jacket over your frame. “Hi, I was…”, iii frowned slightly as he let himself drink you in. “I…”, “Baby, who is that?”, that voice alone sends iii’s heart falling to his feet. “Did you need something?”, you asked softly but all iii can focus on now are the rustling sheets and the sound of footsteps. His shirtless bandmate walking from the back side of the room. “Hey, dude what’s up?”, iv says casually pulling his pants back up. iii honestly felt like laughing. No, the first reaction was to punch iv actually but he knew he had no right to so he had to back away. “Can’t seem to find my phone, thought that I maybe…”, iii was quick to shrug, “Actually maybe I do know where it could be”. And he’s turning so quickly he’s surprised he doesn’t tumble.

It was one agony-filled pretend fest after that. His only salvation was that you two didn’t seem too keen on public affection but even then fate would pull him to you. Making sure he would end up in the back room just as you were straddling iv, kissing him. Eyes falling to your interlinked fingers as you walked back to the bus. Ivy’s clothes you wore. He had a feeling that he could have had that. That it had been right there but he had fucked it.

And he had thought that he was starting to get over it. That he would move on. Make peace with it. Should have known it was a fool’s dream. The moment you stepped into the pub for that post-tour celebration. All iii could do was look at you. The lace dress. The heels. You were a vision. A fucking apparition he had been chasing for months now. One that had given him a fleeting hug before settling on iv’s lap.

“You’re quiet”, you nudged his shoulder as most of the guys had taken it upon themselves to either go dance or refill everyone’s drinks. “Just tired”, iii shrugged. You were inches apart. He could feel the warmth from your body. Smell your perfume. Then you just let out a giggle as you shook your head. “What’s so funny?”, he asked turning to you slightly. “Just… you know I had the biggest crush on you”, you mussed still shaking your head, “and I still think that you’re an ass for what you did”. iii wrapped his hand around his glass tightly, “I apologized”, “Did you?”, you asked bitterly. “I was pinning after you like an idiot and then you had pretty much called me one too”, you sighed, staring ahead. “Ever thought about the fact that maybe I had feelings for you too?”, iii bit back. “Oh, please”, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve been in love with you for months and I fucking blew it all out the window”, iii put his glass down on the table running a hand over his face. “Iii”, “Don’t give me that pity party boo shit”, he grumbled pushing out of the booth. “Don’t you fucking walk away”, you hissed following after him just his steps were a lot bigger and faster. “Iii this is your last warning”, you grunted as you both pushed into the called night. “Or what?”, he turned back harshly. You two were all up in each other’s faces at this point. “Or I will let go and you will never be able to reach me”, you whispered. “Go back inside”, iii said coldly, “your boyfriend is looking for you no doubt”. “You’re being an asshole again”, you muttered. “Just let me go”, he shook his head, stepping backwards. “Do you really want me so bad if you’re walking away for the second time?”, you muttered bitterly. “You don’t know shit about it”, iii shook his head, walking away.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - a Christmas chapter

I've been planning on getting back to these two for a while, and then I had a brain spark and poured out 10k words in two days... The story starts up a few years after the end of The Pilot and his Girl and the story will make more sense if you've read that. I hope you enjoy revisiting these two as much as I did!

Frankie Morales x F!Reader in The Last of Us Warnings: Listen, it's TLoU, expect canon levels of violence and gory details as always. Word count: 8.5k

His low, soft, whisper slips into your dream as his warm hand gently strokes your back, “Time to wake up, cariño.” 

When you don’t stir, the warmth of the bed, and his solid chest against your back, too comfortable to give up, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, moving his lips to your neck, along your jaw until he can reach your mouth and breathe softly against it. 

“C’mon, hermosa, wake up, I need to get going,” he whispers again, and you can feel the soft scratch of his mustache against your lips. 

“No…” you mumble, “it’s too early, Frankie.” 

“I know, but I have the early patrol shift and you told me to wake you up before I left.” 

He’s wrapped his arm around your waist and is pulling you against his chest, almost enveloping you under him. As he continues to press wet kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your mouth, you slowly wake up, squinting up at him as he smiles. 

“Morning, mi amor.” 

“Morning, fish sticks.” 

He chuckles at that, his grin making the corners of eyes crinkle, deeper now than when you first met him, over twenty years ago, both his patchy beard and chocolate brown hair shot through with more silver every year. But he’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, your Frankie. 

“I’ve got to go, I’m meeting Gunnar down by the stables in ten, we’ll be back in two days. We’re going to the mountain resort up by Jackson Hole, make sure it’s still in one piece after that storm.”

“Ok,” you mumble, “stay safe, come back to me.” 

“Siempre, cariño, te amo.” 

He presses another kiss to your lips as you pull your arms from under the covers and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer. 

“Love you too, Frankie.” 

Your hand shakes as you raise it to knock on Joel’s door, trembling as you step back and wait for him to open. His heavy boots thump across the floor behind the door and you see his shadow in the window pane before he opens. 

“They're not back yet, Joel,” you say before he has time to greet you, “It’s been five days and they’re not back yet.” 

“The storm delayed them, they’re probably on their way back already,” he says as he lets you through the door. Ellie is lounging on the couch in the living room, book in hand, but now she looks up at you. 

“They should’ve been back by now, even if they had to walk the horses,” you object, “I’ve got a really bad feeling about this and Will and Benny are out on patrol too and I can’t wait until they’re back.” 

“You want to go out to the resort and find him,” Joel says, leaning against the side of the couch and crossing his arms as you pace in front of the fireplace spreading warmth through the room. 

“You’re the only one I trust to do this with, Joel,” you reply, “I’m asking you to come, but I’ll go on my own if I have to.” 

“If you do that, Frankie’s gonna kill me when he gets back,” Joel says, and you know he’s only half kidding. Frankie would never let you leave Jackson alone, he’s never even been completely comfortable with you leaving on patrols without him. Years of training has made you almost as capable as the ex-Delta Force men, and you’re definitely one of the best snipers in Jackson. But despite that, Frankie never likes it when you leave Jackson, especially without him. 

“I don’t want to go alone, but I can’t just hang around here and wait for them to maybe come back, I’m leaving in an hour,” you cross your arms, mimicking Joel’s stance as you stop in front of him and give your ultimatum. 

“Hang on, when is Will and Benny due back?” He straightens up and drops his hands to his waist, challenging your determination. 

“Tomorrow evening. But I’m not waiting until then, because then we can’t go until the morning the day after and then it’s been another two days. I’ve left Jack with Eve and the kids.” 

Joel sighs and rubs a large hand over his face, glancing over his shoulder at Ellie who shrugs. 

“I’m fine on my own, I’ll eat at Tommy’s. You should go, she sounds serious about going on her own.” 

Joel sighs again and shakes his head, “Ok, fine, meet me at the stable in half an hour, I’ll get my pack together.” 

The snow is thick on the ground as you leave the Jackson gate behind. Only a few patrols have left Jackson since the storm cleared. Will and Benny set out almost immediately with a large party, heading for a nearby settlement that had requested help just before the storm hit. Another small party had headed out towards the radio tower to clear the path up to it. And now you and Joel trudge through the thick snow, your horses kicking up clouds of white as their breaths steam. 

Your nerves are frayed, it feels like they’re on the outside of your skin, chafing with every movement as you look around the snow covered landscape. The snow forces you to go slow, sparing the horses and protecting them from any hidden obstacles, your fingers drum against your thigh as you ride behind Joel. He’s got his heavy backpack on, his usual rifle in front of him and he lets his horse pick a path through the snow at its own pace. 

It takes you most of the day to get close enough to actually see the ski resort high up on the mountain side. Joel’s been telling you that you’ll probably run into Frankie and Gunnar as they make their way back. Then he tells you to keep an eye out for horse tracks heading towards Jackson, there’s a chance Frankie and Gunnar will take another route back and you might miss them. But as the miles slip by and the resort comes into view, he doesn’t repeat himself. Instead you see him double check his rifle and scan the surroundings with more vigilance and you know he’s beginning to worry. If Frankie and Gunnar were ok, you would’ve at least seen their tracks by now. You clench your fist inside your glove and bite back on the panic that’s creeping up your throat. You need a cool head now, you and Joel need a plan to approach the resort and tackle anything that you find there. 

“Hopefully they’re just snowed in,” Joel says, “it looks like the snow’s thicker up there. Let’s take that trail up,” he motions to the forest and turns his horse. There’s no visible trail between the trees, but you know there’s a narrow one that curves up around the resort and comes down to it from behind, hiding you from anyone inside the resort. You ride in silence, vigilant, as the horses make their way up the increasingly difficult hillside. Finally Joel halts his horse and dismounts. 

“Let’s walk from here and lead the horses, we’ll leave them just out of sight, just in case.” 

You don’t ask why ‘just in case’, you just nod and hold the reins with one hand, your rifle with the other. 

The back of the resort has only a small row of windows and they’ve been boarded up for years. That’s still the case as you and Joel peek out from behind the last of the thick trees. Nothing stirs and you can see no tracks as Joel motions for you to tether your horse to the same tree as his, and then you both make your way towards the back entrance. It’s locked when Joel silently presses down on the handle, and with a few quick hand gestures he leads you around the corner of the building, up on the back end of the large viewing balcony. You’re moving silently, the snow muffling your footsteps, but you’re also leaving tracks behind and while Joel’s got his focus forwards, you constantly check you back, making sure no one approaches you from behind. 

The large viewing balcony wraps around almost the whole building and a huge glass sliding door leads into a large lounge and bar area. Out of sight from anyone on the inside, Joel risks a glance over the balcony edge and quickly pulls back his head. He waves you back a few steps and you silently retreat until you’re at the locked back door. 

“Two armed guards, seven horses, one of them is Frankie’s. Gunner’s body is by the fence,” he whispers through gritted teeth, “We need to go back to Jackson and get more men.” 

“What? No, there’s no time, Joel,” you hiss, “We need to take them out and get to Frankie now.” 

“There’s at least six of them, we can’t-” Joel says but you interrupt them.

“We take the two guards out silently, then either go in through the front or we get this door open and take the rest from behind.” 

“Listen, I know you’re panicking and want to rescue Frankie now, but we need to be strategic about this, or we’re risking our own lives here,” Joel says but you’re already shaking your head, you can feel the quiet rage that always settles in your bones before a fight, it’s building up inside you. Benny called it your ‘mama bear rage’, it makes you act and move with determination as you do what’s needed and take down any threat. The adrenaline set in afterwards, making your hands tremble, but while you were aiming your rifle at infected or raiders, you never flinched. . 

“Cover me or go back to Jackson, your choice, Joel,” you say and pull your pistol, flicking the safety off. Before he can protest, you’re on your feet, quietly making your way down the stairs on the side of the balcony, down to the area in front of the main entrance. 

The two guards are facing the perimeter fence, about ten feet apart. As you approach, the snow masking your footsteps, you draw your hunting knife. The man flinches as the cold steel meets his neck but it slices him open in a heartbeat and with a gurgling sound he goes limp. The second man turns at the sound, and you quickly aim and fire. He drops, staining the snow crimson red. The gun shot is loud in the quiet mountain area, echoing for miles, and you quickly take cover to the side of the door. Joel’s caught up with you, and he takes up position on the other side. His face is thunderous as he glances at the two men, you know he’ll give you hell about this later, but you don’t care. All that matters is that you need to find Frankie and make sure he’s safe. And if he’s not…you stop your thoughts there. There’s no room for that. 

The door swings open and a man steps out, his rifle raised. Joel grabs it and swings him around, slamming him against the wall, his hunting knife deep in between the man's ribs just over his heart. A shout goes up from inside and a second man storms out, gun raised, but your rifle butt hits his temple and he drops like a rock. You don’t have time to check if he’s still alive, so you put a bullet in his head and turn back to the door. You can hear scrambling noises inside, but it seems no one else is prepared to run outside right now. 

“Get the prisoner,” someone hisses, “don’t let them get to him.” 

That’s all you need to hear, crouching low you peek around the corner for a second before you whip your head back. 

“Cover me,” you mouth at Joel, and you see him open his mouth to object just as you turn the corner, still crouched low. One man is hiding badly behind a lounge chair, and opens fire in panic as you step inside. Your first shot hits him in the chest, the second in the gut. You leave him bleeding out behind you as you crouch behind a couch and cover the way forward as Joel comes inside and advances. 

“Should be only one man left, I saw him go down that hallway,” you say in a low voice and Joel nods, taking the lead this time. You know he’s pissed at you, but he won’t let you handle this on your own. He clears every doorway before moving down the hall, and as he sweeps the second to last opening, someone from the inside takes a shot at him, the bullet splintering the wood as it hits the door frame two feet from Joel’s head. 

“Put down your gun and kick it over here and you’ll get out of this alive,” Joel calls to the man inside and is rewarded by a second shot. This one hits the opposite wall of the hallway. 

“You’re only wasting bullets, you’re outnumbered,” Joel calls again.

“Keep him in there, I’m finding Frankie,” you hiss, crouching low and zipping past the open door. Another shot rings out but it goes wide again as the man fires in panic. 

You scan the final room but it’s empty, just a small storage room, but there’s a door at the end of the hallway, a padlock keeping it locked. With the butt of your rifle, you smash the lock with two sharp hits, and wrench the door open. Stairs lead down from the doorway into a dark basement and the light switch on the wall does nothing. With a low curse you pull out your flashlight and attach it to the strap of your backpack. 

“Frankie,” you call into the darkness, your flashlight only illuminating the stairs, the rest is still pitch black. 

“Careful,” Joel warns from behind you, “no telling what’s down there if that door hasn’t been opened in some time.” 

“But where else would he be?” you ask, still shining your light into the basement, “our friend back there was heading in this direction.” 

Another shot rings out and Joel curses. 

“You ok?” you ask, glancing behind you at Joel, who nods. 

“Yeah, he just got a little bit too close for comfort that time.” 

“Just deal with him, I’m going down. If there were infected down there, they’d be attacking by now.” 

“Fuck, just...wait…” Joel hisses but you start descending, gun raised as you take slow steps down the stairs. From above three quick shots ring out and then you hear Joel quickly come down behind you. 

“You and I need to have a serious talk about tactics,” he hisses as he reaches the bottom of the stairs at the same time as you. 

“Just watch our backs, Joel,” you hiss back, scanning the empty room with your flashlight. 

The basement isn’t very big, and has been clearly used as storage since after the outbreak. Thankfully there’s no sign of cordyceps growths as you spot a door at the back. It’s got a heavy looking cross bar and you quickly step over to it, giving the door a light tap. There’s no response from the inside so you holster your gun and lift up the iron beam. Behind you, you hear Joel take a couple of steps closer and you know he’s got his gun at the ready, covering both the door and the stairs. 

The door creaks open and something stirs in the dark room as your flashlight illuminates the space. A mix of fear and relief fills your chest as you recognize the shape of the man slumped by the back wall, his arms suspended above his head, keeping him on his toes as his head hangs heavy between his shoulders. 

“Frankie,” you gasp, holstering your gun as you run over to him. Joel moves in from behind and swings his own gun and flashlight over the room. It’s empty apart from a broken chair in a corner. 

Frankie groans as you reach him, putting your hands on his chest to hold him up, taking some of the weight off his wrists. Even in the dim light you can see that they’re rubbed raw from the rope that’s twisted around them. 

“Joel, cut him loose, I can’t reach,” you call over your shoulder and Joel steps over quickly. 

“We’ve got you Frankie, stay with me, baby,” you say, gently cupping his cheek to lift his head, trying to make him look at you. He moans again and opens one eye, the other is plastered shut, swollen and bloody from a cut in his eyebrow. 

“Can you tell me where you’re hurt? Can you stand?” you ask as Joel saws through the ropes. They give and Frankie drops, only Joel’s strong arms stop him from crashing to the floor. Carefully you both lower Frankie to lie down.

“Cariño…” he mumbles, trying to reach for you, and you take his hand, gently untying his wrists and discarding the rope. 

“I’ll make sure there are no surprises,” Joel says, “Do what you can for him quickly, we need to get out of here now.” 

He leaves the room and you hear him go up the stairs again as you shrug your backpack off. 

“I’m here, Frankie, I’m here,” you say, “I’ve got you, and we’ll get you out of here. Just tell me where you’re hurt, can you walk?” 

“My leg,” he groans, grabbing his thigh, and you notice the sloppy bandage soaked through with blood, that explains Frankie’s pale complexion. “Got shot, they stopped the bleeding but it fucking hurts.” 

“I’ll clean it out properly once we’re away from here, but I need you to lean on me and walk out of here, ok?” 

He nods, closing his eyes briefly, “I knew you’d come,” he mumbles, “I kept telling you to not come but I knew you wouldn’t listen.” 

“Yeah, you know me better than that,” you grimace “but don’t pass out on me now, I need to get you on your feet, ok?” 

He nods again and seems to pull on some last vestige of energy, groaning with pain as you help him to his feet. He sways, but you hook your arm around his waist and hold him steady as he leans on you. It’s slow going, but as he limps, you get him to the stairs. Joel is standing at the top, keeping watch. As he hears you coming, he moves forward, and Frankie slowly makes his way up the stairs. The effort saps his strength halfway and he stops. 

“Wait, just need a second,” he huffs, breathing heavily as he leans on the wall. You tighten your grip on his waist and give him a small hug that he returns. 

“How long?” he asks, “I think I passed out for a while and I lost track of time in the dark.” 

“Five days since you left Jackson,” you reply, “Almost six, it took me and Joel a day to get here because of the snow.” 

Frankie nods before he takes a deep breath, “Ok, lets get up these fucking stairs.” 

It takes a few more long minutes before you’re finally at the top, Frankie grabs the door frame with white knuckles and in the last of the daylight filtering in you can see the sheen of sweat on his face. He’s pale and clammy, the blood loss and pain taking a heavy toll on him. You glance down at his leg and see fresh blood seeping through the dirty bandage. 

“Just a little bit further, then we’ll get you on a horse, Frankie,” you say, carefully brushing a strand of hair from a cut on his forehead. You can see that he’s taken a beating, bruises are blooming on his face and his bottom lip has been split, blood dried into his beard, and from the way he’s moving, he’s probably taken several punches to his body too, apart from the gunshot. 

“We’ve got a problem,” Joel calls in a low voice, just as you get to the doorway into the lounge area again, “riders returning and they’ve seen the bodies outside.” 

From beyond the still open door you can hear several voices calling out and you hurry to help Frankie to the floor behind one of the couches. 

“Give me a gun,” he hisses, and you hand him your pistol. 

“I’ve only got half a mag for it,” you say, “ and two mags for the rifle.” 

“Keep it, you’re the better shot,” he replies. He winces as he crouches and looks over the edge of the sofa. You can see that he’s white knuckling the pistol, trying to keep his hand from shaking. You glance over at Joel who looks worried, Frankie will be all but helpless if you have to put up a fight. 

Joel has taken cover behind the sofa on the right, and together the three of you are covering the front door. But there are bound to be other entrances and you’re glancing around the big room, there’s no way to know if you’ll be flanked. 

“If anyone comes through the door, you shoot first,” Joel says in a low voice to you, “Let's not waste bullets. I’ll follow up if there’s a second guy.” 

You give him a thumbs up and look over at Frankie. He’s leaning against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. Outside you can hear the men getting ready to move in, and on impulse you bend down and press your lips to Frankie’s. 

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth as you pull back, “don’t die on me.” 

“I love you too,” he mumbles, peeling his eyes open to look at you, “Just kill those fucker for me, cariño.” 

Something clatters on the floor in front of the sofa and you hear Joel yell. 

“Down! Get down!” 

Frankie grabs you, pulling you down with him and a loud explosion reverberates through the room, your chest, your eardrums, making your ears ring as you cough and gasp. Frankies hands are digging into your arms, keeping you pressed to him until you can look down and meet his wide eyes. He’s covered in white dust and so are you, the only color in his face is a fresh trail of blood from his split eyebrow and his brown eyes. 

You can’t hear anything, you’re trying to push yourself up but something heavy is keeping you in place and you’re struggling to get it off you. Frankie shifts under you but you’re still pinning him to the floor. Suddenly the pressure is lifted and you draw a deep breath, but the relief is short lived, blinding sharp pain shoots through your head and everything goes black. 

Frankie feels hands grabbing him before he sees them, the dust in his eyes making them sting and water. He blinks frantically to clear them, his ears are ringing and he needs more of his senses to work, he needs to get up and get you to safety. Someone grabs him under his arms and forcefully tugs him backwards, into the light and he can see more clearly, he blinks again and tries to get up but rough hands shove him down. He can’t fucking see where you are, he felt you move just after the explosion, but now he can’t see you. 

“Stay the fuck down,” a harsh voice snaps through the ringing in his ears, “Grab the other two, get them outside, this place looks like it’s about to collapse.” 

Frankie feels himself getting dragged backwards again, out through the door and into the frigid cold air. The person dragging him drops him on the ground and turns him over, forcing his arms behind his back, ignoring the loud groan he lets slip as the movement shoots pain through his injured leg. Zip ties are tightened around his wrists, rubbing against his already raw skin.  

“Put him against the fence,” someone orders and again he’s yanked up by his arms and hauled over to the chain link fence surrounding the property. He manages to sit up as he’s dumped on the ground again, his arms at an awkward angle behind his back. His leg is throbbing and he can feel more blood trickling down into the snow, but he’s pushing it to the back of his mind as he sees you getting dragged out from the building, two men struggling to pull Joel out after you. Your body is limp and the man has a strong grip on your upper arm, pulling you carelessly across the snow. Frankie can see blood dripping from a gash on your head and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s trying to stand up, protesting at the way you’re being handled. 

“Leave her alone, get the fuck away from her!” he yells, bracing against the fence as he pushes himself to his feet. 

“You should know better by now than to talk back,” the man sneers as he drops you to the ground and yanks your arms behind your back, using zip ties to secure them too. 

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Frankie spits, and the venom in his voice makes the man flinch as he catches a glimpse of Frankie’s face, eyes black with rage. He finds himself quickly again though and grabs you, shoving you up against the fence a few feet from Frankie, before he steps over to Frankie. He pulls his gun from his waistband and presses the muzzle against Frankie’s temple, forcing him down onto the ground again. 

“Who’s she to you then, huh? Girlfriend? Come all the way up here to rescue you?” 

Frankie bites back the insults he wants to hurl at the man, it won’t help. Through the pain in his leg, the cut on his head, and the blind panic he’s fighting to control, he tries to regain a cool head, figure out how to get you out of this. 

“C’mon, buddy, don’t go all quiet on me now,” the man taunts, “Who is she?” He glances back at you, slumped against the fence, still unconscious, and grins, “Who is she?” he asks again, backing up and now he’s got the barrel of the gun pressed against your temple. “Tell me who she is and I won’t kill her right here on the spot. We don’t need her, keeping three people alive is too much trouble, we only need one of you to talk.” 

Frankie can’t think straight, can’t collect his thoughts, all he sees is the cold metal pressed against your head. 

“She’s my wife,” he presses out, struggling to get to his feet again, but a man comes up behind him and aims a vicious kick to his knee, and he goes down again. 

“Keep her alive, I bet he’ll talk to keep her safe,” the man says, “Kill the other guy.” 

The man who’s got the gun holsters it again and looks over at Joel, he’s been ziptied too and shoved up against the fence further down. He’s glaring at the two men aiming their guns at him, “He’s awake, lets see what we can find out  from him and then kill him. We’ll stay here tonight and then follow their tracks back to wherever they came from. We’ll keep these two for now.” 

As soon as the two men leave, Frankie grits his teeth and forces himself to scoot over to where you're slumped against the fence. If he could only get the zip ties off he’d figure something out, but he needs to wake you up first, make sure you’re ok. He doesn’t like the way you're sagging, it looks like the way you're sitting is stopping you from breathing properly, he nudges you with his uninjured leg, giving you a kick. 

“Cariño, wake up,” he whispers, “c’mon, wake up.” 

He shoves you with his shoulder, trying to push you upright and he hears you cough, so he shoves you again. 

“Wake up,” he hisses sharply, “c’mon, baby, I need you to wake up.” 

He hears you groan and finally, he draws a deep breath of relief, you sit up, blinking your eyes as you clear your head. You cough again, spitting blood, there’s a cut on your lip, but it looks shallow, thankfully. 

“Frankie…what happened?” you groan, trying to sit up straighter. 

“Lean on me, cariño, stay up right,” he shifts so that he can support you as much as possible with his hands tied behind his back, “They had an explosive, dynamite I think, nearly took the fucking roof down.” 

“Where’s Joel?” you ask, your head dropping to Frankie’s shoulder as you try to look around. 

“Over there, by the fence. Cariño, I need to get out of these zip ties, do you have your knife on you?” 

You lift your head, it’s heavy and you’re not sure you can follow what Frankie is saying, as a lump on the side of your head thumps painfully. 

“I had my knife…” you mumble and you feel Frankie moving, trying to reach the sheath clipped to your belt. 

“It’s still there,” he whispers, “I need you to move so that I can grab it, I’ll cut you free first and then-”

He stops short when a roar goes up from Joel. One of the men is leaning over him and Frankie can’t see what he’s doing, but it’s making Joel howl in pain. 

“Just fucking tell us!” the man yells before Joel groans loudly and curses.

“Fuck you!” he snarls, but his voice breaks and Frankie sees him slump forward. 

“We need to be fast,” he whispers back to you. 

“Frankie, look!” you gasp, and he follows your gaze, the glint of a scope is all he catches before a shot rings out and all hell breaks loose. Two more shots ring out, two men dead in the snow, a third one clutching his shoulder and bolting for cover before another shot takes him out. Suddenly two masked men on horseback come charging in through the open gate, taking the remaining men by surprise. Horses whinny, shots ring out and the guy who dragged you out, runs towards Frankie, but the man on horseback throws himself from the saddle and is on him in a few long strides, tackling him to the ground. 

“Fucking get him!” the other man calls from his horse, and Frankie breathes a sigh of relief. The voice is unmistakably Ben Miller’s. 

Will only snarls as the man’s neck snaps under his strong hands, slumping into the snow and he doesn’t even give him a second look, just leaves the body on the ground as he rushes over to you and Frankie. 

“Fish, hey, you ok?” he asks, instinctively reaching for his first aid kit as he sees Frankie’s leg. 

“Get us untied, Will. Thank fucking God you showed up.” 

Will quickly cuts the zip ties while Benny clears the rest of the area. From the forest Tommy comes jogging, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. 

“All clear?” 

“Yeah, all clear,” Benny replies as he cuts Joel’s zip ties. 

“Thanks, man,” he says, “You guys showed up in the nick of time.” 

You’re gingerly touching your head, there’s a big lump there and Frankie takes your chin and carefully tilts your head to get a look at it. 

“It’s bleeding, but it’s not deep,” he says. “Will, clean it out and patch her up.” 

“I will, man, but right now, your legs takes prio, we need to stop this bleeding.” Will is ripping up the fabric and inspecting the wound.

“As soon as you can, we need to move,” Benny says, coming over and watching Will disinfect and wrap clean gauze around Frankie’s leg, “We’ve got spare horses, we should try to get as many of them as possible back to Jackson.” 

“We’re on it, got your backpack too, Frankie” Tommy calls from behind him. Joel’s on his feet, cradling his left arm, but helping his brother tether the horses together. 

“What happened to Gunnar?” Will asks Frankie, who shakes his head. 

“We got attacked during the storm, Gunnar was standing guard but I think they got the drop on him because of all the snow. I woke up with a gun in my face and Gunnar dead by the door.” 

“I’ll get his body,” Tommy said, “We’ll get him back to Jackson.” 

It doesn’t take Will long to finish giving Frankie’s leg a temporary fix, then he quickly cleans and closes the gash in your head. Frankie groans as Will helps him into the saddle of one of the new horses, and you stay close to him with your own horse. He’s very pale and you can tell he doesn’t really have much energy left as he sways in the saddle. 

“Will, we won’t make it back to Jackson before nightfall, what’s your plan?” you ask, knowing the older Miller brother always has two or three back-up plans. 

“The old restaurant down by Blacktails Pond, we stay there overnight.” 

“Ok, good, we need somewhere safe to rest for a few hours.” 

Will glances over at Frankie, who doesn’t seem to be aware of the conversation. The last of his reserves were used when trying to get out of the zip ties, now, in relative safety, he is slipping back into the stupor you found him in. 

Setting a steady pace, you all begin the long trek down the side of the mountain. You stay close to Frankie’s horse, eventually taking hold of its reins as Frankie slumps in the saddle.

“Will, hold up,” you call, halting the group, “Joel, take my horse, I need to ride with Frankie.” 

Joel’s been riding just in front of Frankie, now he looks back at the pale looking man who seems barely aware of his horse stopping. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open and there’s a sheen of sweat on his skin that, considering how cold it is, shouldn’t be there. 

Will gets off his horse too and gives you a hand up on Frankie’s horse. You settle in behind him, taking the reins from him as you wrap an arm around his waist and make him lean back against you. 

“I’ve got you, Frankie,” you tell him in a low voice, and he gives you a barely perceptible nod. Will’s got his hand on Frankie’s uninjured leg, and he’s looking worried. 

“Don’t let him fall asleep, keep him awake,” he says, and the concern on his face makes you scared. Will is the one who is the most experienced medic, working with his wife Diana in the Jackson clinic, if he’s worried about the state of Frankie, it’s not a good sign. You don’t say anything but meet his eyes and he knows what you’re silently asking, the fear is clear on your face. 

“We need to get to shelter fast,” he says, “Just keep him awake.” 

You nod and take a steadier hold of Frankie, finding his hand and wrapping your own around his fingers, squeezing them tight. 

“Keep holding my hand, Frankie, don’t let go,” you tell him, tucking your chin into his shoulder as you nudge the horse into a walk. 

“Never,” he mumbles, and you feel his hand squeeze yours, it’s light, but it’s something and you cling to that as Will leads the group towards the old restaurant. 

Wyoming winters days aren’t long, it’s pitch black and late by the time you get to the restaurant. The temperature has dropped and you can feel Frankie shivering under your arms. You squeeze his hand but he doesn’t respond, and you urge the horse forward. There’s enough of you to risk a fire once you’re inside the restaurant, Frankie needs to get warm, there’s no other way. 

While Benny and Will clear the restaurant and make sure it’s safe, Tommy helps Frankie off the horse and takes both Joel and Tommy holding him up to get him inside the old, dilapidated building. You bring in the horses and leave them tethered in the spacious foyer and then hurry after the men. 

This is a well used safe house for the Jackson patrols so it’s well stocked for any eventualities and the windows have been blacked out. You’ve spent several nights here, even days, when you’ve been caught by a surprise storm in the treacherous Wyoming seasons.  

You quickly begin building a fire in the big fireplace at the back of the front room. There’s always a good stack of firewood next to it but only when there’s enough of you to properly guard the place do you risk lighting it. Now you desperately need it, Frankie needs to get warm, get fluids in him to combat the blood loss, get his leg properly cleaned before it gets infected. You’re hoping it’s only the blood loss making him unresponsive, if he’s got a serious infection, you’ll need to get him back to Jackson and you’re not sure he can handle that. 

You glance over at where Joel and Tommy have put him down on a mattress on the floor near the fireplace. Honestly, you’re not sure he’d even survive the rest of the ride back to Jackson like this, but you try to shove the thought to the back of your mind. It doesn’t work though, it still sits there, making your hands shake and your eyes burn. Your vision gets blurry as you hastily light the dry logs, tossing more on as the fire roars to life. Putting up the fire guard, you grab Frankie’s mattress and slide it closer to the warmth. 

You kneel next to his head and take hold of his hand, squeezing it tightly, “Stay with me, Frankie, come on, you can’t go to sleep yet,” you urge him as you prop him up against your lap. “Benny, he needs fluids, melt plenty of snow over the fire.” 

“Sure, I’m on it,” he replies and jogs after Tommy who’s taken up the first guard shift by the entrance. 

Will kneels next to Frankie’s leg and starts unraveling the bandage, “I’ve got alcohol to clean it out but I don’t know if the bullet is still in there. I need to check and it won’t be pleasant for him,” he looks up at Joel who’s come over to the fire, “I need the two of you to keep him as still as possible while I check.”

Joel kneels next to Frankie and takes hold of his leg, keeping him steady while you hold his hand. Frankie’s breathing deeply and you can see him steeling himself, this won’t be the first time he’s had to suffer painful first aid out in the field. 

Will holds a pair of forceps in the fire for a few seconds and then douses them in alcohol before leaning down over the gunshot wound in Frankie’s thigh. 

“Ok, Fish, you know what I have to do and it’s not gonna be pleasant, just keep still for me, ok?” 

“Payback for when I pulled that shrapnel from you back in -05?” Frankie snorts weakly and Will chuckles. 

“Something like that. Ok, here goes, I’ll be as quick as possible.” 

You’re not squeamish around injuries and blood any more, but you can’t watch as Will begins to search for the bullet inside Frankie’s thigh. Instead you look down at Frankie and concentrate on letting him squeeze your hand tight. He’s grinding his teeth, biting back groans as droplets of sweat begin to form on his forehead. 

“Stay with me, Frankie,” you mumble, and he looks up at you, his fingernails digging into your palm. You keep your eyes locked on his as you see Will angle the forceps from the corner of your eye, “Just stay with me, baby,” you whisper, squeezing his hand back and he gives you a small nod, the lines deep between his eyebrows.  

“I can feel it, I’ve almost got it, Fish,” Will says, and Frankie moans loudly, just as the bullet slides out of his leg. Fresh blood flows out, but Will drops the forceps and quickly presses down with a compress. Frankie is panting hard, taking deep breaths as he curses in Spanish under his breath. 

“That’s the worst part done,” Joel says, picking up the bullet, “and it looks like the bullet is whole, no pieces left behind in you.” 

“Not the worst part I’m afraid,” Will grimaces, “I’m sorry, Fish, but I have to clean it out with alcohol. You ready?” 

“Just get it over with,” Frankie growls, tightening his grip on your hand as Will pours the liquid over the wound. He can’t stop the yell of pain that rips through him and his body trembles. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he roars, slamming his empty fist down onto the floor. You bend down and stroke his forehead, pushing back the damp curls that are plastered to his skin, squeezing his hand tight. He’s sweating bullets now and whimpering as Will wipes around the wound. 

“Almost done, baby,” you whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to his temple. He inhales deeply through his nose, holding his breath as the alcohol burns.  

Will puts down the bottle and inspects the wound, “It looks good, Fish, it doesn’t look infected. You’ve lost a lot of blood but you haven’t passed out and the bleeding has stopped. We need to get plenty of fluid in you, Benny’s melting snow so you need to keep drinking. We’ll get some food in you too and then you should get a good night’s sleep with your girl, and you’ll feel better tomorrow. We’ll see if we can ride back, or if we need to stick it out one more day.” 

Frankie nods, relaxing his grip on your hand, and you carefully flex it behind your back. You’re pretty sure he’s bruised it, but you won’t say anything. 

“Thanks, Will,” he mutters, leaning back against you, and sighing deeply, “some water would be great, I’m fucking parched.” 

“I’ve got ya, Fish,” Benny says and hands him a canteen, “And I’ve got dinner heating up, I’ll bring you a bowl when it’s done.” 

Frankie nods as he guzzles the water, gasping as he comes up for air. 

Joel gives Frankie a clap on the shoulder and goes to check on Tommy as Will cleans off the forceps and packs it away. 

“Let me check your other cuts, give them a clean” he says to Frankie, “ and then I’ll check on you too,” he looks over at you and points to your split lip that’s swollen and bruised. 

Frankie only sighs and puts down the canteen, letting Will tilt his head towards the light of the fire.  

“So what happened?” he asks as he dabs alcohol on the cut above Frankie’s eyebrow, the one that’s caused his eye to swell shut. 

“Everything looked normal when we got to the resort, nothing out of place. The gate was locked as usual,” Frankie says, “Then the storm hit and we got snowed in but we still took turns keeping watch. The plan was to leave on the third day once the storm cleared. The third night, I took the first watch, then Gunnar took over half way through the night. The next thing I know, I woke up with a gun pressed to my head.” 

“They killed Gunnar straight away?” Will asks and Frankie nods. 

“Yeah, they must’ve caught him unawares, I never heard any gunshots. They dragged me out and showed me his body, told me they’d kill me too if I didn’t tell them where we’d come from. When I didn’t tell them, they beat me up, and then shot my leg.” 

You tighten your grip on his hand, and he feels it, giving you a small smile and squeezing your hand back.

“It’s ok, cariño, you got to me in time, I knew you would.” 

“I was worried when you didn’t come back after the storm,” you say, “I made Joel come out with me because Will, Benny and Tommy had already left.” 

“Yeah, how come you guys showed up?” Frankie asks Will just as Benny drops down beside you with two steaming bowls of what looks like camp stew. 

“Drink more water and eat this,” he interrupts, shoving the bowl into Frankie’s hand. He takes it and gives Benny a grateful nod. Will moves over to you, and starts dabbing alcohol on your cuts.

“The settlement we went out to check on, they’d been attacked,” he says, “and we found a couple of survivors who said they were headed to Willard’s Rest, so we left a few guards behind and headed over there. Just as we approached, we saw a group of them ride off towards the resort. Tommy, Benny and I tracked them, the others stayed at Willard’s to take care of the rest of them.” 

“Joel and I took down six of them when we got there,” you say, “but as we were getting Frankie out, the rest of them showed up. They threw dynamite into the building and nearly took it down. It was lucky you showed up when you did.” 

“We had a bad feeling when we saw where they were heading,” Will replies, “We knew Frankie and Gunnar had gone up there before the storm.” 

“So that was the last of them, at the resort?” Frankie asks between mouthfuls of stew. 

“Hopefully,” Will says, “We’ll find out more from the rest of the patrol when we get back to Jackson,” he replies, getting to his feet, “Listen, we’ll talk more tomorrow, I need you to eat and then drink the rest of that canteen and then sleep. You’re gonna feel like shit with the blood loss for a while so get as much rest and energy as you can.” 

“Alright, Ironhead,” Frankie says, giving Will a sloppy salute that makes the tall blonde smirk and shake his head. 

“If he’s cracking jokes, he’s feeling better, take care of him, hermana,” he tells you, “make him sleep.” 

Benny follows Will and you set down your empty bowl, handing Frankie the canteen of water. He downs the rest of it and then lies back as you get your sleeping bags, thankful that Tommy thought to grab Frankie’s bag from the resort. Zipping them together you help Frankie wiggle into it as he curses at the pain from his leg. 

When he’s comfortable you curl up next to his good side and rest your head on his chest. Underneath your ear you can hear his heartbeat. It’s faster than normal, racing as his body struggles to cope with the blood loss, but at least it’s strong and steady now. Frankie puts his arm around your back and pulls you closer as you rest your hand on his waist. 

“You scared me, Frankie,” you mumble, “I almost-” 

“Sshh…” Frankie whispers, his hand caressing your back, his large palm warming you, “Don’t think about ‘the almost’, I’m here, you found me and you got me out.” 

You nod against his chest, but your mind is still racing. 

“I wish…” you begin, but trail off and Frankie moves his head to look down at you. 

“What do you wish, cariño?” he asks softly. 

You sigh, trying to control the tears that are burning your eyes, but you can’t suppress the small sob that escapes. 

Frankie immediately shifts, wincing slightly, and wraps both arms around you, one hand cupping your cheek as his thumb rubs across your skin. 

“Talk to me, hermosa,” he whispers, gently kissing at the tears that are slipping down your cheek. 

“I…I wish…I wish this whole thing was just a bad dream, that it didn’t happen,” you murmur as Frankie continues to caress your cheek. 

“The patrols are always a risk,” he says gently, “But it’s what keeps Jackson safe.” 

“I don’t mean just this, I mean all of it, the outbreak, the infection, all of it,” you say, your voice shaky as you lean into his warm hand, “I miss our life before this, it was so short, I wish we could’ve had a normal life together.” 

Tears well up faster as your mind gets stuck on the image of the house you’d signed for just before the outbreak, all the plans you had for it, the pool, a hammock, barbecue in the backyard, painting Lucia’s room, Frankie making rough sketches of the bed frame he was going to build. 

“Cariño…” Frankie whispers, hugging you closer as he kisses your forehead, “I miss all of that too, I miss Lucia every day, I miss all the memories we never got to make together, with her, and just you and me, I miss it all the time,” he leans back a little so that he can look at you, tear stained and red eyed, “But I’ve told you before, I’ll take any life with you, and if it means I have to live through the apocalypse, so be it. You and Jack are the only ones that matter. ” 

“I wish we could’ve had a proper wedding,” you mumble, closing your eyes as Frankie tucks you in closer to him, his hand finding the back of your head and lightly caressing your hair, “In our new house back in Arlington, get Will do make that pork shoulder he did at Denny’s cabin.” 

“I know, bebita,” Frankie says in a low voice, “I wish we could’ve had that too.” 

You listen to his heartbeat as he continues to stroke your hair. After a few minutes his hand goes still and you hear his breathing even out as he falls asleep. It takes you longer to get your mind to shut down, the image of Frankie strung up in the basement, head hanging heavy between his shoulders, fills your vision when you close your eyes. The fear you felt in that moment, those few seconds when you didn’t know if he was alive or not, it seems to grip your heart even though he’s safe with you now. You hate how tenuous your grip on life is now, and how used to it you’ve become. You both go on patrols regularly, and although you’re still worried when he’s gone, and you know he’s worried about you, over the years the risk of something happening seems to have diminished. Or maybe you’ve been lucky. And then this happens, and suddenly the fragility of your life with Frankie and Jack is thrown into stark relief. You came so very close to losing Frankie this time, and the fear that has simmered down during the safe years in Jackson comes back with full force. 

With a sigh you bury your head against his neck, breathing him in, as he mutters something in his sleep and tightens his hold on you. He honestly reeks of sweat and blood, but you don’t care, he’s alive and warm underneath you and that’s all that matters. You try to memorize this feeling, his smell, his heartbeat and arms around you. One day he’ll be gone, or you’ll be gone, and then you want to remember this, being safe in his arms as he sleeps peacefully next to you. 

Part 2

[measuredingold]

cause everyone knows i got a broken heart

authors note: last but not least, folio’s has been completed ! i always enjoy writing him, so if you all ever have requests for our folio here, please send them to me lol inspired by the song taken :)

jolly’s, noah’s, and nicholas’

pairing: nick folio x reader

word count: 961

cw/tw: reader is heartbroken, big unsaid feelings, folio is a sweetie, noah just wants his friends to be happy, jolly is a sore loser, fluff, open but hopeful ending, 18+ minors do not interact

"You look happier."

Noah's voice breaks you from your spell, blinking away from Nick to look at your friend.

"Hm?"

"I said you look happier." He gives you a small smile, the real one he only reserves for his friends, and leans in closer. "It's nice, I missed the happy you."

"Thanks. I did, too." You mumble out, face burning.

The last year had been hard and there were times when you didn't think you could come out of it, wholeheartedly believing you'd die of a broken heart. But those bad days slowly turned into kinda bad days, and those days slowly turned into alright days. You're not where you want to be, but the broken pieces of you that were left behind slowly started to be pieced back together, one by one.

You glance over at Nick again who caught your gaze, face softening as he sends you a wave. You send one back before looking at Noah again, that small smile now turning into a knowing grin.

"Don't even start." You point a finger towards him, eyes narrowing into a playful glare.

"I'm not starting anything." He holds his hands up in defense before looking between you and his bandmate across the room, leaning in closer. "He really likes you, you know?"

Your face burns again. "I know."

It felt weird admitting that. You know how Nick felt about you, and how you slowly started to feel about him. It was all weird to realize when you were still healing from your broken heart.

"Are you gonna give him a chance?"

"I don't know." You say honestly and the look Noah gives you lets you know he understands. "It's complicated."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his pants, shoulder bumping into yours. "But... I'm also sure he's a good guy. Would do anything for you. It wouldn't be so bad to give him a chance, right?"

You eye Noah for a second, brow raising. The boy doesn't say anything, just gives you that same knowing grin.

"I'm starting to think he paid you to say that."

"I can't confirm nor deny that." Noah shrugs before bumping his shoulder into yours again as you both laughed. "But, seriously. He's good for you. I think you know that."

You do. The second Nick came into your life your world was turned up again after being turned down for so long. He was like a light in the darkness, guiding you through all the bad shit to get you to the good shit. You haven't been this happy in months, and yet...

"I don't know." You mumble, eyes back on Nick who was focused on his game of pool with Jolly. "There's just a lot that goes into it, you know? I'm still scared. I don't think he'd hurt me intentionally, but knowing that he could is what's stopping me, I think."

"Your therapist tell you that?"

You snort. "Maybe... but she's right. I think my mind is still in flight or fight when it comes to things like that. I don't know if I'm ready, but... he makes me want to give it another shot."

"Yeah?"

You can hear the smile in his voice, though your eyes are still on Nick. "Yeah."

It's silent between you two after that, leaned against the wall beside each other as you watch the game between Nick and Jolly unfold. The older out of the two swears when Nick wins, the second time tonight, and you can't stop the smile stretching across your lips when he sends you a wink. Jolly reaches into his pocket to pull out a wad of cash, practically throwing it at Nick.

"Not fair! You always do better when she's here." Jolly grumbles out, pointing an accusing finger your way.

You hold your hands up. "I'm literally just standing here."

"Yeah, but you're like his good luck charm. He always plays better when you're here. It's weird." Jolly huffs out, but you can still make out the playful tone in his voice.

"You're just jealous you don't have a pretty good-luck charm." Nick teases as he makes his way over to you and Noah.

Your cheeks burn from his words and you don't dare look at Noah. You can see that shit eating grin in your head perfectly.

"Did you hear that? He thinks you're pretty." Noah dramatically whispers to you, groaning when you elbow his side not so gently.

"Shut up." You whisper back, plastering a smile on your face when Nick gets closer. "How much you get out of him this time, winner?"

"I think just enough to buy you and I a drink." He says while counting his winnings, whistling to himself once he finished. "Actually, I can buy us two drinks."

"Wow, two drinks? A man after my own heart." You joke, but the smile on Nick's face lets you know it's anything but.

"I sure am. Tell me, is it working yet?"

You don't stop yourself from smiling. "Maybe it is."

"I'll take it." Nick hums before holding his hand out, waiting for you to take it. "C'mon, let's go get a drink."

You take it without much thought, letting your fingers lace with his as he guides you towards the bar. You can feel Noah's eyes on you, and you can still see that shit eating grin in your mind, but you don't care about that. You don't care that maybe he's right. No, all you care about is the way Nick's staring at you, like you hold the sun and the fucking moon in the palm of your hands. It makes you feel like giving him that chance wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.