#Monica is trash

[mickeym4ndy]

I know Mickey said he likes them sweet in season 1 and yes this is mostly true because Ian can be very sweet particularly in the early seasons.

but also Mickey never would’ve been so down bad for Ian from the get go if Ian wasn’t also a bit of a messy asshole who was able to give as good as he got and was just as flawed and fucked up as Mickey. and Ian wouldn’t have been as interested in Mickey if Mickey wasn’t also the messy asshole he was. Ian was immediately smitten with the wild angry guy in front of him.

I mean they literally started fucking because they were beating each other up and got turned on by it.

[elposting]

the epidemic of theater kids calling themselves “musical trash” circa 2017

[sh4xblog]

Riga.

[ninoochat]

boom, done watching 11x12 (garbage finale but whatever who cares), took me 18 days to binge it all. now i can watch all the things ;_;

cam could have delivered his line better there :/

and fuck off frank, you could have died any other day but their wedding anniversary

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #288: HEAVY METAL!

February, 1988

"When Wakes THE SENTRY SINISTER!”

The Avengers are dealing with a lot of old robots lately.

Super-Adaptoid, the Awesome Android, and now the Kree Sentry-459.

Almost like its a theme, of some sort.

Or maybe the Super-Adaptoid is just lonely and is trying to make friends with other robots.

Maybe if he had better role models, he’d be a good guy?

So of what happened previously: during the Masters of Evil attack on Avengers Mansion, Super-Adaptoid got out of capsule captivity and changed places with the Fixer.

In guise of the Fixer, he got captured and sent to jail but broke out because the Fixer’s gear had a failsafe that mind-controlled some poor schmuck named Todd Martin.

The Fixer-Adaptoid tried to retrieve the Awesome Android but took off when the Avengers showed up. The Avengers fought the Android and She-Hulk defeated him by punching him in the armpit.

Next, the Fixer-Adaptoid went to meet with the Fixer’s old pal, Mentallo, and tortured him to lure the Avengers out. The Avengers survived the boobytrapped villain lair and rescued Mentallo but by that point the Fixer-Adaptoid was meeting with Machine Man.

Which brings us to now. Maybe Machine Man will be a good influence on the Adaptoid?

Or maybe the Adaptoid will be a bad influence on Machine Man.

Aaron “Machine Man” Stack doesn’t need a lot of prodding to be an asshole, let’s be honest.

So Fixermentallo-Adaptoid (yes, that red and goatee is because he absorbed Mentallo’s powers too) and Machine Man arrive at a BIG TOURIST ATTRACTION! in the Texas Panhandle.

Where people can SEE THE AMAZING GIANT ROBOT from OUTER SPACE!

There’s some skepticism from some of the tourists.

Not that amazing giant robots from outer space exist. I mean, geez, this is the Marvel universe. Amazing giant robots from outer space are plausible. One of the tourists is prettyyyyy sure that the military has a bunch of aliens in Nevada.

But this? Total scam. Yeah, no way

this thing is a real amazing giant robot from outer space!

Hi, Kree Sentry-459!

You’ve had a long and eventful life to wind up as just a tourist attraction.

There’s actually something charming about that. You’d think that the military or Avengers would haul the sentry off out of the public eye but everyone just left it where it was and some enterprising local made a business out of it being on his property.

Good times.

Well, they were good times.

Because, Machine Man and the Fixermentallo-Adaptoid show up.

They start repairing the Sentry, thanks to the amazing fixing powers of the Fixer and the mental powers of Mentallo.

The stereotypical old Texan man with a gun, beard, and suspenders running this tourist trap tells them to stop fucking with the attraction.

This guy is a treat.

Delightful.

After the two don’t listen to him tellin’ them to amscray, he immediately unloads his gun into the Adaptoid, claiming no jury would convict.

And when the Adaptoid is unscathed this guy is just... baffled. He’s like wait why am I seeing things I’m not drunk, people die when they are killed.

The Adaptoid and Machine Man Aaron just ignore this dude’s comedy stylings entirely.

I feel in a more 90s-ier comic, this dude would be as dead as Farmer With A Shotgun from Dragon Ball but it’s actually funnier that they just give him no attention.

Anyway, they get the gol-durn thing working and the three go traipsing away, on a route the Adaptoid calculated to face the least resistance.

And the dude who ran the amazing giant robot from out of space attraction just loses his mind.

Old Texan Man: “Hey, dadburnit! Get back heah! Ah can’t make no livin’ just ranchin’ this dust pile! Ah got bills tuh pay! What am ah gonna show folks when they come around heah... the spot yuh used’ta be in?! What am ah gonna tell ‘em? The man from Mars plum got up an’ walked hisself away?! Git back heah, yuh ungrateful pile ‘a scrap! Ain’t ah always been good tuh yuh? Ain’t ah always washed an’ scrubbed yuh Saturday night an’ polished yuh up proud fer Sunday visitin’? Answer me, durn yuh! Answer me, yuh big bag ‘a bolts! COME HEAH!”

Supervillains are so insensitive to the plight of the small businessman.

Later, at Hydrobase....

What the fuck.

I...

Okay so I knew a few things about Hydrobase.

But I don’t think I knew that the Avengers moved THE ENTIRE MANSION TO THE ISLAND!

Geez, they’re really going all in on Hydrobase being their new base of operation.

And, hey, this is a way for the new to be tempered with the old. Maybe I’d be more receptive to the Clearly The Last Dungeon In An RPG Avengers Tower if it had the Mansion plopped on top, like how Xanatos Gargoyles did with a castle.

Why the hell does Avengers Tower look like a doom fortress anyway?

Anyway.

Dr Druid comments on what a momentous occasion this is and says that its a shame that nobody is videotaping the moment.

Captain Marvel clearly takes this as a passive aggressive jab.

Captain Marvel: “As leader of the Avengers, doctor, you know I’ve had a great many things on my mind -- the least of which was filming this occasion. Please stop questioning my every move.”

Here here. Hear hear? Whichever.

Dr Druid says he meant no offense. But he would say that, wouldn’t he? -squints suspiciously-

But Black Knight arrives on his Atomic Steed with news! Literal news! A literal news clipping from an actual newspaper!

My god!

So, this is how superheroes get their leads.

I joke but I like the worldbuilding detail of the Avengers having an off-panel support staff of people paid to read every newspaper for stuff that the Avengers might need to deal with.

Wonder if I could get that job. I can read. I can cut paper with scissors.

I also like that when Dane says he has news, the first thing Captain Marvel wants to know is whether its about Captain America. Good to see that she’s still on that plot thread.

Anyway, a small Texas newspaper printed a story with a picture of Machine Man, the Super-Adaptoid, and the Kree Sentry.

It’s the lead on the Super-Adaptoid that the Avengers have been waiting for!

And I remain shocked that news media is the Avengers’ best leads on supervillain activity. I know that the government cut them off but... Uh. I don’t know how I was going to finish this sentence. I guess I don’t really think about how superheroes get their leads. Spider-Man just swings around, I guess. The Avengers watch the news and have people clipping articles. Hmmm... that makes the X-Men the most fantastical in terms of superhero teams because at least they use a psychic helmet to get leads...

Captain Marvel draws a line between the data points and notices that the Super-Adaptoid is recruiting other robots. And its enough of a lead to investigate.

Black Knight says that they should just track down the Adaptoid, find out that way. Captain Marvel expects that the Adaptoid will probably lead a cold trail so it might not be worth chasing their tails until they have a better idea of what he’s up to. Dr Druid suggests that since the Adaptoid went after Mentallo, maybe the robot pattern isn’t a pattern at all.

And Black Knight re-suggests that Captain Marvel should go to Texas to check out the trail since she can get there at literally the speed of light.

While she’s gone, she orders Dr Druid and Black Knight to pull up all the files the Avengers have on super-robots and androids. Get started on that lead.

And then she nyooms away.

As she flies, she ponders how frustrated she is about this Super-Adaptoid situation. How he escaped in a truck while the Avengers were busy with the Awesome Android.

Meanwhile, Machine Man, the Super-Adaptoid, and the Kree Sentry walk along the Grand Canyon.

Machine Man suggests that maybe they should hijack an airplane. Because the Sentry is really slowing them down by being unable to fly.

The Adaptoid doesn’t really answer his concern. Just says that they’ve got an additional stop before New York.

Machine Man reminds himself that he’s doing this for Jocasta and wonders if humans would find it weird that a robot can love.

And then he gets philosophical.

Machine Man: “Adaptoid, are you familiar with how baffling the concept of robotic life is to most of humanity... yet, how pervasive the idea of the machine is in aspects of many cultures? I’ve read extensively -- It’s startling how humans see themselves so often in machine-like terms. In 1662, the philosopher Descartes, published DeHomine, a theory of man and animals as machines. He even made a theoretical model of a mechanical man -- like me. By the beginning of the 20th century, every major model for the explanation of human behavior was mechanical. Darwin even used the machine model for evolution. Newton saw the universe in mechanistic terms -- like an unwinding clockwork. The humans refer to their most advanced societies as the most mechanized. It’s fascinating.”

Super-Adaptoid: “Have your vast readings on the subject led you to any practical conclusions?”

Machine Man: “Practical? I read only to learn -- to discover what it is I am. Knowledge is its own reward.”

Super-Adaptoid: “Then, in truth, your time was ill-spent, for your knowledge has brought you nothing.”

Wow.

He just listened to Aaron’s entire speech and then told him he was an idiot for not focusing on more practical things.

Super-Adaptoid is pretty incurious about the arts, I guess.

Anyway, Captain Monica Marvel returns to Hydrobase and oh wow!

Look at this new Situation Room for the Avengers!

Its huge! Possibly unnecessarily huge!

Rooms in Avengers Mansion tended to shift between appearances. But meeting rooms, communication rooms, computer rooms... they tended be cramped more than cavernous. Having to fit everything under a mansion that wasn’t originally intended to be a superhero base will do that.

I guess Hydrobase gives them more room to work.

Captain Marvel reports that the trail in Texas had run cold, as she feared. And she wouldn’t know the Super-Adaptoid if she ran into him since he can change his appearance.

But at least while she was gone, Dr Druid and Black Knight have been busy pulling up information on all the robots and androids in the Avengers’ files.

Lotta robots.

Aww... poor Jocasta.

Captain Marvel asks if its necessary to bring up information on destroyed robots but Dr Druid says its better safe than sorry.

AND Y’KNOW. MONICA. The Adaptoid reactivated the Kree Sentry. So maybe don’t discount the possibility that he’d fix a robot considered destroyed?

Black Knight tells her that the most likely suspects are Ultron, TESS-One, Machine Man (womp womp), and the Sentinels.

So she calls an Avengers meeting to go over what they know with the Avengers who haven’t been on research duty.

New meeting room!

My god. Everyone has elbow room. But there’s no icons on the chairs. Kind of a mixed bag in terms of an improvement.

Chair icons are top tier as a superhero base design element. So goofy, yet so charming.

Anyway, Captain Marvel splits the Avengers between the various deactivated robots/possible targets of the Adaptoid.

Dr Druid and Black Knight will investigate TESS-One. I’m reading on marvelpedia that Tess-One was a prototype super-soldier hunting robot greenlit by FDR out of fear that an army of super-soldiers might return home from the war and take over the country.

Wow, they really didn’t trust their boys in blue, white, red, and cowl.

But when Professor Erskine was killed after making only one super-soldier (Captain America, duh), FDR decided ‘why the hell am I funding this?’

Anyway, the scientist creating TESS-One decided to take the project home and finish it on his own terms and also program it to kill Captain America. As ya do.

Anyway.

Namor and She-Hulk will look into the Sentinels in Washington DC.

And since the West Coast Avengers (specifically Wonder Man) destroyed Ultron most recently, Captain Marvel has asked them to take care of that.

Marinna is on Operation: Stay at Hydrobase because she’s not an Avenger and Monica isn’t about to be responsible for her safety.

Namor gets mad and says that only he decides whether his wife has to stay out of danger or not!

This time Marrina tells him that its fine, they should listen to the team leader.

And She-Hulk, being She-Hulk, thinks ‘oh sweet, alone time with Namor.’

God dammit, Jen.

While everyone is doing what she told them to be doing, Captain Marvel will investigate the robots marked destroyed.

If anyone sees that Adaptoid, contact Hydrobase.

As everyone leaves to their tasks, Captain Monica has some private doubts.

Captain Marvel: Yeah. Good luck. Sure wish Captain America would come back to us. I don’t know if I’m cutting it with these folks. I seem to be going through the motions of leadership. I’m not sure I believe it any more than I think they do.

Hmm.

I should talk a little about this.

So in the upcoming future, Captain Marvel’s tenure as chairwoman of the Avengers is gonna end so that Captain America can be leader again. This was an editorial mandate from Mark Gruenwald, who did quite like Captain America.

Writer Stern agreed to make this change but drew the line at Gruenwald’s insistence that Monica be shown as incompetent as chairwoman, to justify Cap(tain America) taking over.

This is likely why last issue was the end of Stern’s run.

Yes. Right in the middle of a story. Ralph Macchio and Mark Gruenwald handle the rest of the story. And then Walt Simonson’s run starts.

(Spoilers: Which does indeed end Monica’s leadership and her superhero career for a time. And leads to the Avengers breaking up. Fucks sake, Simonson or Gruenwald.)

So all this recent stuff about Monica feeling like she isn’t suited to lead the Avengers or other characters thinking badly of her... I have to wonder whether it was intended to be part of whatever is going on with Dr Druid. Or editorial pressure to undermine Monica as a character.

Quite a bad look for Gruenwald.

So if this is the beginning of the end, I will say that Monica has done a good job so far as a competent if believably green team leader.

ANYWAY.

Black Knight and Dr Druid, who is here for some reason, arrive at an air force base in the Midwest.

They don’t have the special priority clearance, since the government is still mad about Vision trying to take over the world, so in order to get clearance to land, they faked engine trouble.

Then, in order to get the soldiers to let them see TESS-One, Dr Druid uses his vast MENTAL POWERS to Jedi mind trick the soldiers.

Under the influence of his MENTAL POWERS, the soldiers load TESS-One onto the Quinjet and then the Avengers take off with the deactivated anti-super-soldier robot.

Black Knight is worried that the soldiers will snap out of it and try to shoot them down but Dr Druid reassures him.

Dr Druid: “You see, the military mind is quite used to receiving orders, therefore, they are sometimes more susceptible to commands than the undisciplined mind.”

Black Knight: “You don’t say.”

Black Knight also points out that Captain Marvel wanted them to watch TESS-One where it was, not bring it back to Hydrobase.

Dr Druid: “Hmmph, she lacked foresight in this matter. What were we to do -- stay on the Air Force base until the Super-Adaptoid attacked? She will see that we did right.”

Then they lose control of the Quinjet and Black Knight is forced into an emergency landing.

Black Knight tells Dr Druid to send a message to Captain Marvel that they may be under attack by the Adaptoid but Druid refuses.

Dr Druid: “Uhh -- Perhaps the ship has malfunctioned naturally. We mustn’t turn in a false report. We need evidence.”

Then the Kree Sentry tears open the Quinjet.

HOW DOES BEING WRONG TASTE, DOCTOR?

The Kree Sentry pulls Black Knight out of the Quinjet but he uses his extremely cursed sword to lop off its hand.

Unfortunately, its still holding on tight, forcing him to very awkwardly cut himself free finger by finger since if the sword draws any blood, the curse will overwhelm him.

Its such an awkward position which requires so much focus, that Black Knight can’t keep his cape from leaking into his thought bubble.

I’m sorry colorist Max Scheele. You don’t deserve me mocking coloring errors thirty-six years later. And yet.

Dr Druid tries to levitate away from the Super-Adaptoid but can’t outpace the robot’s jetpack.

So he changes tactics and uses his MENTAL POWERS to summon illusions of Thor and Namor.

Which has no effect on the Super-Adaptoid.

Super-Adaptoid: “Hah! Such parlor tricks, doctor! An all-encompassing intellect such as mine -- cannot possibly be fooled by these phantasms! I see through them -- beyond them -- as no other brain on Earth could!”

That having failed too, Dr Druid concedes that he needs to send a message to Captain Marvel but he can’t do it if he isn’t given room to concentrate.

Over with Black Knight, he’s finished cutting himself free of the Sentry’s hand. Only for Machine Man to show up with snark.

Machine Man: “Well, I’d give you a big hand for that performance -- but it seems as if you’ve gotten one already!”

Womp womp!

Seeing that Machine Man is on the Adaptoid’s side, Black Knight doesn’t waste any time. He immediately swings his sword to decapitate Machine Man.

Unfortunately, Machine Man can just decapitate himself to avoid the blow and then pummels Black Knight with his detachable fist.

Huh. I thought Machine Man had stretchy telescoping limbs... not ones that popped off.

Anyway, Black Knight has a bad time.

He has a bad time and then he gets smooshed by the Kree Sentry.

Meanwhile, Dr Druid gets chocked out by the Super-Adaptoid. Insult to injury, the Adaptoid also copies his MENTAL POWERS, adding them to his repertoire alongside Mentallo’s.

Since the Fixermentallo-Adaptoid already had a beard, is he going to get Druid’s mustache? Or his bald head? I demand that he change shape for every power he absorbs.

Dr Druid manages, with his last bit of consciousness, to send a psychic distress signal toward Hydrobase. According to the narration. Except it really goes to a cave in Northern Florida where Captain Marvel is.

Make up your mind, Druid.

Anyway.

Where Captain Marvel is is in a small cave melting the Doomsday Man.

He was already destroyed but can’t hurt to melt him into a puddle.

Fix that, Fixer-Adaptoid!

But as she turns to light and nyooms away, Dr Druid’s psychic distress call arrives a micro-second too late and hits the slag.

This raises a lot of questions about how psychic powers work!

Like... I pictured it more like brains are senders and receivers. So a psychic signal wouldn’t go to a geographic location, it’d go to a brain.

The psychic signal does follow after Captain Marvel so maybe it is homing in on her brain. But the signal missing her and hitting where she was threw me into a confusion.

When Monica arrives at the Avengers Situation Room, she hears a faint voice but dismisses it as her imagination.

Womp womp.

Back at where Dr Druid is being choked out by the Super-Adaptoid, the Super-Adaptoid finishes choking him out. Although, the robot actually claims he used the combined Druid-Mentallo psychic powers to besiege his mind.

Feels unnecessary if you were already choking him out but I guess he wanted to flex on Druid. Completely understandable.

With Dr Druid and Black Knight out of commission, the Super-Adaptoid tells Machine Man to get rid of them.

Machine Man flies off with them.

Later, Captain Marvel, Namor, and She-Hulk meet in the Situation Room. The government actually cooperated with the two Avengers, telling them all the Sentinels were accounted for and promising to alert them if anything happens to their Sentinel storage area.

Since Dr Druid and Black Knight didn’t report in, Captain Marvel flies off to go check on them.

Nyoom.

Just missing their torn-open Quinjet arriving on Hydrobase.

The Super-Adaptoid, Machine Man, Kree Sentry, and TESS-One used it to get to Hydrobase without setting off the artificial island’s defenses.

Super-Adaptoid: “But the time for stealth is past. We are here to conquer, not skulk! This island is ours! I, the Adaptoid, claim it in the name of HEAVY METAL!”

Aw, that’s cute. He gave his new friend group a name.

Follow @essential-avengers​ if you like heavy metal or any genre of music. Like and reblog if you have neutral to positive feelings about music. Or about this post!

[swan-of-sunrise]

defending the marvels online isn’t enough I need a sword

[kavehater]

LMAOOO HER GETTING OUTED IS HILARIOUS 😭

[dykesynthezoid]

Now I don’t wanna be cruel about people’s physical appearance but. We all know this matchup is wild right. AND he’s a racist.

Meanwhile her ex-husband went on to marry a model 30 years younger than him. The different standards for women and men in entertainment are un-fucking-tenable out here

[irreplaceable-spark]

Homeless RV Encampments are Polluting LA Water and Beaches | Barry Coe

"Unbelievable stuff going on the amount of trash. There are hazardous materials, leftover burned-out carcasses of motor homes are all over the place. 9000 gallons of raw sewage a month are going into the wastewater system. That's the storm drain system, not the sewers. The storm drain carries it straight to Santa Monica Bay." Siyamak sits down with Barry Coe, former commissioner from Santa Monica. Today he will talk about how the RVs went out of control in the streets in Los Angeles and how it impacts.

[gunnrblze]

Roommate!Hesh

Hello friends. This is my first actual lil piece of writing I’m posting (in this fandom, on this account lol). I’m debating turning it into a full fledged fic, so if you’re intrigued by that I’d love to know! Not to abase myself or anything, but my writing is quite mid lmfao, I just enjoy my silly thoughts n ideas so here you go :)

•1k+ words, SFW, could possibly be read as some slight stalker-ish behavior if you squint, but nothing actually dark like that! The man is just down bad :(

You weren’t exactly sold on living with a stranger yet. Especially not some army guy, but you had little choice.

Desperately needing a roommate after moving to Santa Monica, a friend mentioning a friend of theirs who has a brother. A brother who happens to be looking for a roommate too.

You trusted your friends judgement enough to pursue the recommendation. Figuring that living with a special forces soldier could either be pleasantly uneventful, or a dumpster fire, based on what you knew of the type.

But David, or Hesh as everyone reportedly calls him, was decent. Clean, respectful, kind when he toured you around the apartment. The near boyish charm that laced itself between his heavy presence may have caught your attention.

But a fling, especially with a new roommate, was not what you needed.

Your room was smaller than his, but having gotten to the apartment second to him, you understood first come first served. You just enjoyed the in-unit washer and dryer and stainless steel appliances, if you were being honest.

The apprehension you had, the hang ups of starting a new chapter, moving in with someone you only just met through a friend of a friend, started to dissipate sooner than anticipated. Instead filled in by a dull surprise.

Hesh worked pretty often, but even when he wasn’t around, it’s as if he were still there.

His section of chores always finished, some of yours even started or done completely for you. You asked him about it after divvying up the household responsibilities, making sure you weren’t confused.

But he insisted it was “no biggie”, he’d just found himself taking the trash out on his way to work. Tidying the kitchen up after he got home in the middle of the night and cooked himself an impossibly late dinner.

Said dinner he left in the fridge the next morning, a sticky note on top explaining that you should finish it up so it doesn’t go bad.

Leftovers usually kept for days though, didn’t they?

His boots by the front door, the smell of his aftershave somehow lingering everywhere throughout the apartment, his hat left in the bathroom and the goddamned coasters that he insisted be used around the living room.

When he wasn’t there, it felt like he was. A ghost permeating the walls. His broad frame, tall and wide, voice deep, green eyes that somehow always landed on you when he was near. They weren’t quite unsettling eyes, they were penetrating. As if he could see what lie inside you, too.

But when he was there, it felt almost arresting. Interrupting. You barely knew him, only lived with him for a few weeks.

But you weren’t sure whether you could tell if it even felt that way anymore.

Anything he bought, you were free to use or eat. Was he just that nice? Your old roommates wouldn’t let you touch their things with a 10 foot pole. But what was his seemed to be yours in a way, too.

You chalked it up to him being an eldest child. But you weren’t merely being treated like a younger sibling.

Your Netflix subscription ended and you didnt want to spend the money to renew it, but it didn’t matter because Hesh had Netflix too. Which meant you had it.

Hesh had every kind of household tool one could need in his toolbox, which meant that you had them now too.

Except you couldn’t use them. Because he’d fix whatever you needed. Hang up any picture frame of yours on your wall as you started to decorate your space. And you merely let him, somehow unable to insist that you could indeed, handle it.

It was only natural when he’d asked if you wanted breakfast one morning, explaining that he made too much food. Too much of your favorite food. Or when he not so subtly watched how you made your tea, filing it away in his brain so he could bring you a cup one day when you were sick in bed.

And then some cough drops. And soup. And cold medicine.

Maybe you felt a bit like a guest at a bed and breakfast, or maybe he was just raised decently.

When the washing machine broke, he took a look at it before you could even bring it up to him, was he listening to you in the laundry room? Hard to say. Fixed it so you could do your loads of laundry.

But not before letting you borrow a t-shirt of his, since all your clothes were dirty, of course. You’d obviously have to wash the one you had on, too.

You thought you were surely screwed when your car broke down outside of work one day. But when you texted Hesh and asked if he knew of a good mechanic. he was, naturally, already in the area just running errands.

So he took a look at your car while you stood to the side and watched. Making a point not to watch his biceps flex around the ring of his t-shirt sleeve, or the way he brushed the sweat off his forehead.

Surely you were paying attention to his explanation of the drive belt in your car being too wore out, and not the way his fatigues stretched over the meat of his thighs.

Why was he in his work uniform if he was just running errands? You didn’t think about it very much.

Your job had been stressing you so much, and it appeared something like second nature for him to wrap you into a hug, rubbing his hand up and down your back, murmuring things that seemed too dulcet for a roommate of hardly even a month to soothe you with. Even though it helped.

He was always there, his magnetism suffocating. But not in the way that two hands might feel around your neck. But in the way the sunshine feels beating down on you. The way you feel tipsy before feeling fully drunk, charged but blissful.

Pleasantly inescapable.

You didn’t really stop to fully question his comforts though, not when he made you a cup of tea and put a movie on in the living room, sitting a bit too close to you.

Not that you minded of course, considering you fell asleep with your head on his shoulder.

And what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t pick you up and tote you off to your bedroom? He knew you were half awake, and you knew he knew, but it didn’t matter.

With one arm hooked under your knees and the other around your back, your face that didn’t need to be pressed to his chest, it just didn’t matter.

Because what kind of roommate would he be if he didn’t lay you in your bed and cover you up, setting your alarms on your phone so you’d wake up the following morning?

How did he know your passcode? How did he know exactly what alarms you set?

It didn’t really matter to you after he kissed your head goodnight.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Crimson Fangs Sing Me Lullabies

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Ten years is a long time to be alone.

WORD COUNT: 18.7k

WARNINGS: Angst, gore, canon typical violence, stitches & needles, death, fluff, puppy love type stuff, mutual pining, Hesh being adorable, Ghosts timeline

A/N: Back to my roots with 30+ page works.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He vividly remembered the moment Riley had alerted him on that rainy Tuesday afternoon. It was when the sky was pelting against his soaked beanie and the abandoned houses of South California were utterly silent—as still as the heart in his breast. The ground under his feet was soft, grass giving way to slopping mud that caked up to his ankles in thick mounds of flooded earth.  

Hesh had only been out for a swift survey of the area, taking Riley for backup as Logan stayed at camp to pack and hide any trace of two individuals from inside Fort Santa Monica snooping around. Seeing as Federation Soldiers frequented the area, any piece of them that was left in No Man’s Land was subject to identification. Nothing from a broken branch or a boot track could be out of order; certainly not when the two brothers were here to scout possible weak points in enemy territory. Try and find ways to slip in a fire team—give ‘em all a good scare and wipe another point off the map. 

But Riley was along because not only was he Hesh’s responsibility, but the German Shepherd’s instincts were far superior than a soldier’s ever could be. For only 14 months, the dog was making quite the name for himself around the Fort.

A chilled wind whips down the street, the overgrown road filled with rusting cars and trash which flutters in retaliation of being disturbed all across the asphalt. Rain comes down sideways in great roars. Whatever the dog had honed in on, it was loud enough to be heard over the noise of nature.

“Riley,” Hesh calls, calm and collected, to the animal that was intently staring at a large home; hackles tense and tail pointed high. Blue was the color, hiding peeling white trim behind suffocating ivy. A large portion of the left side was ripped away to show its insides like a dead deer would, which had most likely happened when the earthquakes had been rampant during the first few years after ODIN was fired. Tectonic plates shifting and the like. Green eyes narrow. “Go on boy, search.”  

If there were Federation Soldiers this close to camp then it needed to be taken care of—quickly and quietly. No time to get Logan. 

Sharp ears perk and the lithe dog shifts its haunches, raised neck fur accented by a low growl. Paws pad over the ground and twin footfalls follow swiftly after, the body of a Honey Badger Assault Rifle pointed down but ready to aim at a moment's notice.

But nothing could have prepared Hesh for what he found that day. 

—

You press to the oozing wound with a futile hope that it would stop gushing, breathing so loud it can be heard over the deluge outside this shitty excuse of a shelter. Your arm was splattering blood all over the damaged hardwood of the first house you could stumble into, feet flinching back until your spine hits a dresser in the upstairs bedroom. 

Dust lives on every surface; flies through the air as you string curses under your breath with stuttering sobs. You’d hoped that there was a medical kit stashed away here somewhere—something to scavenge that could fix the knife slice that was making you dizzy. 

T…there was just too much blood.

But after the loud slamming of cupboards and the destruction of more than a few rusty door hinges, it hit you like a bullet to the chest as your clothes stuck to you like a second skin. Everything had been picked over. 

No medicine in the bathrooms, no rags in the kitchen, and no hope of bottled water to clean the wound out. Nothing. 

“No, no, no.” You force the black dots away from your eyes, vision blurry with tears as you press harder to the gash. It squelches and more scarlet hits the floor. “It can’t end like this. Not like this.” 

All that you had were the clothes on your back and the sparse materials in your backpack that amounted to an empty water skin, a blanket, and the pages of an old book. 

Blood pooled on the ground, and you realized far later that the only reason you had heard the noise downstairs was because of the steadying way you had bitten your lip; a sob cut short. Your body stilled like you were caught in a bear trap. 

It had been a soft whistle, barely heard over the sheets of rain hitting the broken roof. Water lightly taps your head in an uneven pattern as it leaks through the frame like an ant tunnel. Blinking as a few more tears are forced down your cheeks, you slowly turn to the door that hangs off one hinge. 

Small brown eyes are already locked onto you.

Its pupils are so tiny you wondered if the German Shepherd was half snake—they seemed almost slitted as you gaped at its presence. The army green vest that was wrapped around its frame only served to make you more afraid. 

Dogs were not your friends. Not in this day and age. Certainly not the ones that belonged to the soldiers that had cut your arm open not an hour earlier in the woods. That’s what they did, then? They sicked a dog on you? 

You swallow down a gulp and stand paralyzed as the beast’s lips curled back; its tail puffing up and wagging with aggression. Your breast filled with the constant drumming of a panicking heart.

“G—” voice small, weak, you try to appease the thing with a forced smile as your brows bunch in. This demon doesn’t even blink. “Good doggy.”

You stumble backward only a single shaky step, and then it lunges. 

The dog runs at you with a gnashing of teeth and a shredding snarl on its lapping tongue. Sharp barks meet your ear-piercing scream as they echo off the termite-eaten walls. Rushing back, you feel saliva splatter against your face; a sharp snapping flash just inches from your nose. Your back slams into the far wall with a resounding crash.

“Riley!” A masculine voice yells out, followed by feet rushing up the creaking stairs, but you don’t even hear it before fuzzy neck fur is gripped in your hands. Paws dig into your stomach. Worse, fangs graze your neck as ears stay stapled to an angular head; bobbing back and forth with intent to rip your flesh out. 

You could smell its damn breath.

Straining, every bit of adrenaline-laced strength builds as a split-second to act takes form. You plant your shaking legs and shove with your shoulders—racing away before the loud thump of the Shepherd’s form hitting the floor is registered. Its vibrating growl of hatred echoes off your brain along with its skidding claws. You stagger quickly into the bathroom and slam the thin wood with a loud yell of fear, finding the rusted lock before flicking it with a floundering grip.

The barrier shakes not a second later with the force of a vehicle as you balk back from it with a horrible fear in your breast.

What would it feel like to be mauled to death? You swallow through a closed throat, seeing the door almost cave with the force behind thrown at it; eyes wide and snapping to the tiny box you’d caged yourself into. Oh, fuck me.

“Riley!” Again that voice, closer. There’s a pause in the attack, but the deep barking continues. Eyes flinching, you shake wildly and notice the under-sink cupboard not a moment later with a prey-like haze over your thoughts. “Easy, boy, easy!”

Stumbling, you whip open the small enclosed area and do what you can to shove yourself into it—legs pressed tight to your chest and grunts falling from your lips as you try and maneuver past pipes. Your arm feels like there are a million knives stabbing one after the other, but you don’t for one second dare to stop what you’re doing. Letting the tiny door shut with a bounce of wood, you get totally swallowed by darkness. 

You realize quickly that the barking has entirely stopped. 

“Shit,” hand going to capture your mouth, your fingers press tightly to hide even the sounds of your ragged breathing, dealing with both the hunched-over nature of your spine and the knowledge of someone outside the door. 

Someone who was probably going to kill you. 

Silence lingers, but before long there’s a commotion of a hand that begins to jimmy the door knob. Your ears twitch, blood draining little by little from your head. 

Don’t open the door. Please, don’t open the door. 

The door is shoved open with a shoulder, a brief grunt echoing off the air as the thing slams to the wall. Soon after, the clatter tells you that it falls off of its rusty hinges along with the muffled curse of annoyance.

Measured footsteps make you stare, wide-eyed, at the tiny crack in the side of the wood ahead of you, light from outside dim but enough for you to notice shadows as they slink past. A sigh.

“Clear.” Weight shifts, and you hear a defining click of a safety. You press on your mouth harder. “What was all the ruckus about, boy? Another raccoon give you the slip?” 

Claws pad over broken tile and you hear a nose twitching as distinctly as you can hear your own pulse in your ears. This man that was talking….he didn’t sound like the normal soldiers you’d encountered. There wasn’t an accent to his American English, in fact, he sounded native to the region. Deep of voice and lax in phonics. 

But you had more pressing matters than a man’s speech pattern. A bark rips through the bathroom, and you hear a soft chuckle as your body spasms. 

“It’s not going to be in the cupboard. C’mon, Bud, we need to get back to Logan. Time’s ticking.” More snarling barks, getting higher in octave. The door rattles as you choke back screams as dog feet scratch with aggression, making the barrier bounce with every punch. “Hey, Riley! Enough!” 

A bulky shadow snatches a limb out, grabbing the handle on the back of the dog’s vest, but it’s a bit too late for that. White fangs capture the jutting edge of the frame and rip it off its holding with a raging of metal and splintered wood. You yell between your fingers and try to force yourself away—to try and disappear into a shattered bit of drywall that groaned as you put weight on it. 

Feet kicking out, the dripping wound on your arm makes you wrench the other hand to grip at it, a vain attempt to protect your weak area at the moment. It burns like you’ve just flayed the skin from your bone, peeling the flesh like a person would do to a raw steak. 

And then the dog is reeled back with a sharp yell, “Riley, stand down!”

At once all barking and drool-dripping snarls come to a halt. Panting, you look out to the half-body of the man and into the dead eyes of Riley—a beast that glares at you despite not being able to as his front legs are held off the ground by his vest similar to a kangaroo. It is like staring into the color of dead earth and waiting for it to swallow you whole. 

You wonder if you can die with a still pounding pulse, or if your soul can dip into the very confines of your intestines until you bleed it out. With black dots at the sides of your vision, as Riley is lowered to the ground and left to stand still, you decide that, yes, that could very well happen. 

There’s a large exhalation of air from the top, not-visible, image of the man and although you don’t want to look away from the small-eyed dog, eyes drift slowly to stare. 

Large toned thighs covered in green and brown camo tucked into muddy boots; straps and holsters that drip water with the subtle shifting of hips. Yet it’s almost immediately that those legs bend as a broad chest comes into view followed by a pale, square face. 

You blink quickly, dispelling tears from your lashes mixing with rainwater as it flows down from your forehead when green eyes meet yours—wide and strangely…curious? Brunette hair is trapped by a beanie, and the beginning of stubble spread out down his cheeks, jaw, and chin. Gray sweatshirt, combat vest, patches…your eyes struggle to take it all in but ultimately the large rifle sitting against his chest paints a clear enough picture, even if this man was completely different from the other soldiers you’d encountered out here. 

Shaking, you curl in tighter and hunch your shoulders, hiding away your arm.

Hesh doesn’t know what to think. 

He looks you over with a blatant expression of shock, Riley still on high alert beside him as one of his knees connects with the cracked floor. Lips slightly parting, the man’s head slightly pulls back, trying to understand what the hell he’s looking at. 

A… civilian? This far out in No Man’s Land? How was that even possible—Federation control was practically assured in this area and they shot on sight. Clearing his throat, Hesh sees your water-wet body jerk back, impulsive fear stuck over your head. He quickly raises his hands, dropping his rifle to let it hang from its strap with a clenching jaw as Riley huffs.

“It’s alright, Ma’am.” He coughs awkwardly, watching you incredibly closely. Still not sure how to handle this. “Erm…” A glance is sent to the far wall, “My name is Lieutenant David Walker with the United States Special Forces, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re doing out here. It’s not safe.” 

Firm, yet you notice the words are also subdued as the tension in the air somewhat lessons—like a mother scolding a child that she doesn’t want to start bawling. Your eyes waft away from him back to Riley, though the knowledge that the man was in the Special Forces was startling. You had thought everyone else was dead, most of all the remnants of the military. 

When did this happen? 

Riley still stands as still as anything, watching with his lips curling every so often. Hesh notices your terrified gaze and commands the dog with an easy comment, “Hey, Riley, away Bud.”

The beast pads off with one last long stare, back into the bedroom where you hear the thud of a fuzzy backside hitting the floor and a canid grunt. Immediately a great sigh exits your mouth, crumpled lungs wheezing. The man’s Adam’s Apple bobs as he lowers his arms, lips peeling into a languid frown when his head tilts.

“Sorry about him,” Hesh says, and your shy gaze stops on his neck. Green eyes narrow on you. “Riley’s trained to flush out Feds—not that good at rolling out the welcome committee. ‘Specially out here. He means well.” 

Your lips stay shut, shifting the bloody mess of your arm closer to you. If he was going to kill you, you think, he would have done it already. 

This Lieutenant David Walker wasn’t wearing the dark coloring of the other soldiers in the forest or the towns—wasn’t wearing the patch of twelve yellow stars set into the black void of a rhombus outlined with red. 

He wasn’t part of the group hunting you down. 

Hesh sighs deeply, sparing more glances around the broken-down house and the beautiful woman hiding away in the bathroom cabinet. Even with all of his burning questions, it wasn’t safe to be here. Logan was expecting him back. 

Itching at the back of his neck, the large man mutters, “Well, I guess you’re just going to have to come with us then.” Hesh wasn’t about to leave you here alone. 

Civilians were meant to be behind the Wall, and however you managed to end up outside, he needed to get you back not only for his own consciousness but because you looked like you needed a good meal and a warm bed. 

How long has this girl been out here? He asks himself internally. 

A gloved hand slowly extends out to you and you level on it with a stiff twitch of your feet, eyes glinting.

“Got yourself pretty much folded in half in there, Ma’am.” Hesh chuckles, trying to put you at ease as you just watch like a deer in headlights. “Can’t be too comfortable, huh? How about I bring you back to camp and I can sift ‘round in my packs—see if I can’t find something for you to eat, yeah?” 

It was like coaxing a wild animal from a cage. A chained fox ready to bite its own leg off for the simple release of freedom that it would bring soon after. Hesh couldn’t blame you, Riley usually had that effect on people. 

The dog wasn’t trained to be a pet, after all. 

At the prospect of food, your ears perked. If this person had food, they had to have bandages as well—medical supplies. You glance quickly down at your arm, seeing how the blood had drenched your abdomen from where it flooded out into the lines of textile and thin your lips. It didn’t look good; if it was left untreated…

Green eyes flutter to stare at where you had briefly peeked at. 

“Shit,” Hesh starts, sucking down a breath. His fingers curl from where they still wait for your hand in his. Looking at you as your heart skips a beat from the concerned comment and the unwavering way he stares. “Riley didn’t get you, did he? Let me take a look.”

David moves closer, head partially going under the counter to carefully touch you on the shoulder, shifting your arm from the top. If it was a simpler time, you would have laughed at the sight of such a built and tall man trying to stick his upper half into such a confined place. 

His fingers dig into your flesh and with a hesitant line on your forehead, you slightly present your cut as he sends you a tiny smile in reassurance. 

He…doesn’t look malicious. Maybe I can… 

You blink away black dots and shiver as fingers close around your wrist. Holding back a gasp, Hesh’s eyes widened at the gushing slice; immediately clocking it as a wound from a large and serrated knife. 

Federation? Many of the others from the recon units come back with similar wounds courtesy of the certain blades that the Feds used. 

Digits go to dig around in his medical pouch as your eyes flutter, seeing the heavy frown on David’s face and the lines on his forehead. Ears twitching at the sound of shifting paws, your body quivers. Green quickly glances up as your hand clenches; making more blood fall out to the wood. 

“He won’t do anything,” Hesh assures you, “not without my order. You just need to focus on me, alright? I’m going to wrap this up to help stop the bleeding.” A roll of bandages escapes his pack, and he gets to work tying off a tourniquet above your elbow. “Can you tell me your name, Doll?” 

Your nerves are alight from the rough scape of his gloves along your skin, but you whisper out your title with a stuttering voice. More hushed than a breeze on a humid summer’s day. Speaking after all that screaming hurt your vocal cords. It confuses you that you aren't more afraid of this man—the hard yet sparking eyes.

Hesh sends a quick glance and smiles. 

“Well, we’ll have you all fixed up soon. Promise.” He decided fairly promptly that it would be counter-intuitive to ask you so many questions in No Man’s Land; he’d wait for all of them to be back in the Fort and his father’s opinion. 

Elias Walker was sure to be intrigued by this.

Flinching when David carefully pours water on the wound to clean it out, more wrappings come after to press the torn edges of the injury close together, white rapidly becoming red. But the bleeding would stop soon, as the tight bite of the tourniquet cuts off the flow and leaves your arm completely numb. 

Hesh licks his lips and releases your hand, moving back to rest on the ends of his feet to let his limbs hang off his knees. Looking you over one last time, the man wonders if you were a scavenger. A drifter, maybe? There was a score around the Wall, but they all got caught eventually. 

But none of them were this far out, this afraid.

“C’mon,” David stands, one hand resting atop the counter and the other still extended into the cabinet for you. “We need to get going so we can make it back before dark. Or until the storm gets worse. I’d hate to catch a cold.” 

You stare and push down your fear, injured hand held to you as the other slowly drifts forward. Hesitating over his expectant palm you bite your lip before letting his grip encompass yours. Firmly, fingers tighten over your skin and you shiver at the prospect of touch. 

As gently as he’s able, Hesh helps you out from your hidey-hole, stabilizing you with a hand to the small of your back as you pop to full height. 

“Easy,” he murmurs, watching you stumble as he holds tight. The dog stands from the bedroom, ears erect, but the Lieutenant doesn’t even look. “Riley, stay.” 

Your eyes purposefully never stray to the canine. 

The grip over yours squeezes before it’s gone, and a part of you blinks at the sudden sweep of coldness that returns to you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, sliding your vision to the still form at your side as the house creaks and groans; rain followed by a deep rumble of far-off thunder. Hesh’s lips pull up, huffing out a single, dismissive, chuckle yet his heart jumps with pride.

“Don’t worry about it.” The man’s limbs rest on his weapon, loose. “Least I could do for lettin’ Riley scare you like that.” A beanie tilts as his rugged head nods to the doorway. “Follow me, Ma’am.” 

You stare at the back of his head as he slips past you, walking past the broken door. Blinking after, you stuff your hands into your pockets and quickly catch up with a few strides; feeling light-headed from the leaving adrenaline in your blood. Not fully convinced you trusted him, David had the one beneficial factor of being in the American military that made you go along. 

Why would someone impersonate them? It didn’t make sense, and thus, he had to be telling the truth. 

But you really didn’t like being near Riley. 

Tail still stiff, the dog stays on David’s right while you keep to the left, if not slightly behind. Brown eyes glare and rage, and you hunch your shoulders in mute retaliation, fixing the position of your backpack after it was smashed between the wall and your body. 

“So,” Hesh tries to break the tension, carefully going back down the stairs and looking back. You perk. “How long have you been out here, if you don’t mind me asking? Don’t get many civvies in No Man’s Land.” 

His boots thump while your shoes lightly press, descending back to flat ground. 

“I…” You lick your lips, “I don’t know.” Brows peeling back, Riley exits the house first, Hesh pausing for a millisecond before humming leisurely and going after—not without a narrowed look of confusion directed at you first. 

“Alright.” He coincides. Maybe you were just in shock. “No worries.”

No Man’s Land? Silently, you dig into the back of David’s head when he leaves the shelter of the house, getting soaked by rain as nitrogen fills your nostrils. What’s that? 

Feet traveling out through rubble, you side-step wood and drywall, breathing in the outside air as you soon feel the water wet down your head and clothes once more, shivering at the constant slap to your scalp and cheeks. 

Shuffling after David, you see him call above the storm with one hand to his chest, speaking into a radio.

“Logan, I’m coming to you! I’ve got an injured Civvy with me—knife wound. It’ll need stitches.” There’s a murmur from the other end, but you hear none of it above the rain; Riley peels out ahead, taking point with a constant pattern that leaves the dog coming back after a moment or two into a heel position. “Affirm. Hold down the camp until I get back. We’ll need to move ASAP.”

Digging into the collar of your shirt, you stay in Hesh’s footprints, shoes getting even more mud-cased all along the old material as you all turn into the treeline, forsaking the dead neighborhood to go back to its rotting. 

You only send one glance behind before it’s swallowed by bushes and downed logs.

The cover of the branches offers some reprieve from the downpour, but only to a point where you still were left floundering over the rugged terrain while David walked it like a pro. 

Hesh was constantly looking over his shoulder at you—slowing his pace when you got too far behind him and Riley. At your almost frigid shivers, his lungs built in a low sigh. 

“Here,” he says, firmly, and plucks the beanie off his head to wring it out. Water pools to the soggy ground as your legs slow, constantly blinking eyes looking up from the rocks you were currently intent on not tripping over. “Sorry, it’s not much. Logan’s got a spare blanket he can lend you later.” 

Pausing, your fingers inside of your pockets twitch at the outstretched article, lashes fluttering as a raindrop bounces off your nose. Cleaning your throat when Hesh prompts you with a small, “Go on,” and a motion of his hand, you take the offering slowly. 

Slipping it on, you pull the thing far over your ears, hating how your hair feels under it but not willing to take it off once the pounding on your skull ceases. 

“Better?” David asks, tilting his head as his short brunette locks get weighed down to his forehead. 

You nod wordlessly, attempting a small flinching smile in gratitude. Hesh delays his turning feet for a moment, seeing that with a barely-there flush to his pale cheeks. Clearing his throat once more, the Lieutenant clicks his tongue for Riley to continue, and offers you a hand over the rocks. 

Up and over, he helps you all along the way, suddenly not caring about how long it might take to get back to camp.

Walking beside you, you take glances at David, wondering aloud, “Who’s Logan?” 

He smiles, green roving over the terrain and now on even higher alert now that there’s someone else with him for the trip back. Riley sniffs along the badly flattened trail, though still takes time to stare back at you with distrust. 

“My brother,” Hesh pushes his hair back, expelling water like a rag, “Riley and I went out to scout territory while he stayed behind. Erm,” the brunette chuckles and another wave of thunder rolls overhead. “Don’t think too much about it if he’s a bit quiet when you meet. Logan doesn’t talk much.” 

“I won’t mind,” you also chuckle, though yours is more forced; subdued. It was easy to speak to Hesh, even if your arm was pulsing and your heart was rampaging.

The Lieutenant sends you an appreciative side-eye, smiling slightly, “Good. I’d hate for you to think he was being—”

Riley halts with a huff. 

Attention shaping forward, David steps in front of you with a quick foot, and your frozen view of the western cluster of trees is blocked by a broad back. 

“Riley’s got something.” He speaks low, deathly serious. “Keep behind me.”

You suck down stiff oxygen, body weary as you peek over to stare at the dog and his vest as it shifts when he moves. The large white lettering of ‘Beware of Dog’ on the side catches your optics like a knife in the dark. 

Hesh takes slow steps ahead, knowing you’re behind him by the way your breath stutters and brushes the back of his neck. His vision bores into the treeline, peeling back bark like the books of a page, his heart a steady bump in his chest. 

Riley continues to alert, paws shimmying and fur caked in mud as his tail begins to go wild. 

David levels his rifle to the shadows dancing, clicking off the safety with a thumb before his cheek finds the stock, staring through the scope with deep-set brows. The man waits for the beast to engage first. 

With the minutes ticking and the rain drowning everyone, you find every swaying branch and twitching leaf to be as anxiety-inducing as a typhoon; still, Hesh stays unperturbed in front of you. About to open your mouth and utter a confused plea to keep going, Riley suddenly rushes.

Pushing headlong into the treeline growls akin to a demon echoing off the atoms of the air when the puffy tail disappears. There’s a moment of strained silence right after where your legs are itching for you to run, but David stays and so that means you will too. He’s really your only chance for survival at this point.

“C’mon boy,” the brunette mutters, hips shifting weight. 

It’s only when pained screams enter the air that the two of you really tense up, a loud, panicked thing that bounces off your eardrums over and over again. You gasp and take a step back, and that’s when two black-armored individuals burst from the bushes, yelling behind them and pivoting to try and shoot an enraged Riley with blood dripping from his maw.

Hesh dispatches them with only four bullets—two for each as their exposed necks explode into crimson. Snapping your gaze away you swallow tersely, blinking as if to dispel the image from your mind. You had seen people die before, in painful and gruesome ways, but that didn’t mean you had ever gotten used to it. Lowering his gun, Hesh tilts his head at the two Federation soldiers, the third taken out by Riley before he drove the others to him. 

“Good, boy!” David praises, oblivious to your plight, and the dog trots over with a lolling tongue, eyes bright. His gloved hand pats Riley’s side a few times, ruffling the fur atop his head as paws tippy-tap before shifting to look back at you. He double-takes, gaze widening with a frozen smile. 

Green blinks at your nervous expression and your body that had backed up a good five feet with your hands stuffed into your pockets. His petting hand pauses and Riley barks. Hesh watches you flinch at the sound and tenses. 

Awkwardly standing up to his full height, his fingers itch at his stubble.

“I…” David pauses, not sure what to say to you. Shaking his head, the man grunts out, “Camp’s this way, Ma’am.” A finger points down the trail and you nod quickly, still not looking anywhere near the bodies or Riley. Or him, for that matter. 

“Okay.” Sharing a look with the dog at his side, he thinks his lips and pauses before he takes off down the grass, concern and apprehension stuck in his veins. Not knowing why, he begins to feel a bit strained.

You stay well behind him all the way back to Logan, thinking and worrying.

I don’t know this man, you tell yourself, arms wrapped around your middle and beanie heavy atop your scalp. Even if he’s nice—even if he says he’s in the military, I don’t know what he could do. I have to remember that. 

And that damn dog. 

You can’t get its eyes off of you—constantly watching and tense as if you’d bolt and he would get the chance to pounce on you. It didn’t trust you and that sentiment was entirely mutual. Pulling your injured arm closer, the image of flashing fangs is playing in your mind as you and David get closer to a dense cropping of stones and deep foliage; now it was worse. Now Riley had congealed blood dripping off his chin, all fur up to his eyes deep red and stained. Rabid looking. 

He was one minute away from ripping my throat out back in that house. 

You shiver, but not from the cold. If not for the kind way Hesh had wrapped your arm and the promise of further help and food, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t try to bolt. 

People haven’t exactly been kind to you out here—not for many years.

Your eyes whip away from Riley and stay on David’s boots until the man pushes through one last bush, holding it back for you as you shuffle past with a silent nod of appreciation. The presence of another man immediately makes itself known when you stare into the remnants of a campsite. 

Grass trampled to form a semi-circle, a stuffed backpack rests against a large boulder and, in the middle of the area, sits a small pit for a fire. The dig-out ground is now flooded over by the rain, creating a concoction of mud and brown water. A large overhang stemming from two gigantic rocks gives a small reprieve, though there’s little room for more than two people, and if the rain slants the other way it would end up being completely useless. 

But the figure standing under it is taking what little cover it offers. Shifting with a similar outfit to David and blinking at you with brown eyes. Quickly, he lowers his gun when Hesh calls out, “Woah, Logan—it’s me!”

Blonde hair lays flat over the brother’s head, and you instantly see the resemblance between the two in the same shape of their jaws; the angle of their twin noses. But Logan did seem to be the younger of the two, though not by more than one or two years. 

David saunters forward, hips swaying, and pats you lightly on the shoulder before looking back to send you a soft smile of reassurance. Water flows off his chin. 

“Now, let's get that arm looked at.” He walks under the overhang and bumps forearms with Logan, who continues to watch you carefully. Riley trots up and the blonde rubs his head when David bends down to grab his backpack. 

You awkwardly shuffle, still out in the rain with a cautious feeling in the back of your chest. If you could peel back your skin, you would see an amalgamation of alarm bells strung up by cords of hesitance. Who was to say these men were any different than the black-clothed ones? Could you know their character based on a simple tourniquet and a soggy beanie? 

Brows tight, your shifting feet slosh through a puddle. Did you have a choice? 

Hesh calls over the rain, peeling out a large medical bag from his pack—the white cross capturing your vision. “C’mere! We need to get that stitched up.”

Sighing deeply, you walk until the rock stops the sky’s tears, fingers twitching in your pockets and feeling quite tired. 

“Logan,” the Lieutenant orders and the blonde takes his eyes from you slowly, his stubbled skin sporting a scar up the right side of his jaw. Riley looks up at him when the pets stop. “Give her your spare blanket, would you?” Green flickers to your arm before they go to your face. “Feelin’ alright about needles, Ma’am? It won’t feel that great, but I promise I know how to stitch a straight line.” 

You watch Logan jumble through his own belongings, shivering and hearing the snap of latex gloves from David’s side. They both worked like a well-oiled machine, with gears and pins moving in stupendous arks of shared understanding. If you were being honest, it almost overwhelmed you when a heavy fabric was dropped over your shoulders. 

Fingers go to keep the blanket over your form as a small protein bar was held loosely in your face from Logan’s hands. Brown eyes blink when you carefully take the item, whispering out a small, “Thank you, Logan.” 

The silent man studies your expression before he nods firmly, backing up and taking Riley with him out into the rain with a whistle to allow you more room. You respond to Hesh as he waves you over with a hand.

“I don’t mind needles,” you admit and David listens, patting the rock beside him on the ground for you to sit on. Doing that, you unwrap your bar and hunch deeper into the blanket. “It’s the blood that bothers me.” 

You get a silent side-eye and a gentle hum in understanding. 

“I’ll be done before you know it,” Hesh offers a twitch of his lips, going to lightly twist your arm so that the stained bandage can be unwrapped and laid to the side. “Then when you’re back in the Fort I can get you home to your family. I’m sure someone’s pretty worried about you right now, huh?” 

Your face scrunches, confusion taking hold as you’re just about to bring the protein bar to your lips. Fort? Family? What was this guy talking about? 

Not noticing your look, Hesh, sets off to work, one thumb caressing your numb forearm as he sews your flesh back together. At some point, you turn away, content to bite your lip at the pain and glare into the stone beside you rather than see the crimson slosh down your arm. David wipes at it every so often, seeing the curved needle slowly bring the ragged ends of skin to a neat line. 

He does his best to move as fast as he’s able, careful not to dig too deep and cause you more stress.

You eat your bar with a ravaging hunger, done with it almost immediately and licking the remnants off of your fingers. Hesh chuckles deeply, but a part of him is concerned at the sight.

You had said you didn’t know how long you’d been out here—how were you getting food? The wildlife? You didn’t seem the type to go hunting; didn’t even carry a gun unless it was in your backpack. David doubted that, though.

“Hell, the only person I’ve seen devour those things like that is Logan.” He comments, cutting off the last suture with the small scissors from the pack. You turn to watch his face, seeing the concentrated lines above his eyebrows and the way his tongue lightly pushes out of the side of his mouth until he licks his lips. “Don’t know how he does it—they’re more bland than his cooking.” 

You huff slightly at that, embarrassment heating your cheeks as the needle stops its up-and-down motion. Hesh finishes up with one last look over, tilting his head to the side. 

“You seem pretty close,” whispering, you glance at the figure in the rain, the yellow ball being tossed absentmindedly to Riley before it’s dropped at Logan’s feet as he walks the perimeter. 

Hesh smiles, “Definitely. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.” Fresh gauze is spread and taped down, new bandages unfurled. “Feeling alright? You’re doing great.” 

Your eyes blink at him, slipping over his handsome features and the way his hand holds you so softly even if he is quite large. The cold didn’t seem to bother him at all. You clear your throat and nod shakily.

“Isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched up.” Muttering out your confession your fingers twitch as David tightly wraps your wound up, securing the end and unwrapping the tourniquet at your elbow when he’s done. 

“Really?” The brunette frowns. “Sorry, that must have been tough.” 

You flex your hand, closing and opening your grip as his own travels to the marks the ruthless tourniquet had made on your skin. Freezing your eyes lay stuck to his fingers as the tips of them brush the indents, imaginary pricks under the skin forming as blood begins to flow properly again. 

Hesh doesn’t know what overcame him to do so, slowly pressing into the flesh with a low grunt stuck in his throat. Maybe it was some ill-placed concern for you—some guilt left over for how Riley had treated you before he had shown up. The fear in your eyes when he had killed those Feds.

But you…he wanted to help you.

Unexplainable actions make your heart thump, blood rushing to your head as your limb shakes at the contact. 

Quickly, green orbs pull far open, realization dawning. Clearing his throat, David swiftly moves his hand back to his knee, not meeting your eyes as a red flush makes everything from his nose to his ears pink. Your lips part at the sight in shock, jaw loosening. 

“Well,” he says loudly, moving back to stand and taking off the latex, “that’s that. You’re all set to go.” 

Without meaning to, a small giggle escapes your mouth as you rest your opposite hand on your arm. If anything that makes Hesh all the more flustered, quickly picking up all of his supplies and zipping up the medical kit with a racing pulse. 

Running a hard hand over the back of his neck, you see David call Riley and Logan back as his cheeks go back to their normal color. Your vision narrows on him, trying to understand this individual like how you could understand the thunder that rips the sky or the blanket over your shoulders. You swipe at the last dredges of rainwater on your nose, seeing the two brothers converse in hushed voices. Riley continues to watch you, shaking off inside the overhang and huffing.

It was quite obvious the dog held a grudge for you shoving him to the ground. Warming glee leaving you, you frown at the canine and shift your eyes to the outside world; the downpour is softer on your eyes than feral brown. 

You only turn back when your name is brought up. 

Hesh stares at you, serious, as Logan goes to swing his pack over his shoulder. “We need to start moving soon. It’s bad enough to be in No Man’s Land but to be this deep in Federation territory is worse. Do you have enough energy to keep going?”  

“I…” your lips stutter, taken aback, “Yeah, I should be alright.” If the terrain was anything like it was getting out of that town, I’m not going to make it a mile. Pulling the blanket tighter to you, you ask, “How far away are we?” 

Wherever they were going, it sounded like a good idea to tag along as long as they were allowing it. 

Hesh shares a stiff glance with Logan. 

“Full day of hard hiking, give or take. Terrain’s changed so much it’s a gamble every time.” Your face blanks, throat closing.

“Okay, sure.” You don’t know when you had come to care whether these men left you behind or not, but Hesh’s caring attitude had struck something in your chest like a drum. 

Now that you had someone to talk to out here, someone to caress your wounds, it felt vile to stake out on your own again. Running from soldiers with yellow stars and black rhombus patches outlined in red. This pair wasn’t so bad, at least from what you knew as of now.

David’s lips tighten, eyes sliding half-closed to narrow on you. Green meets brown, seemingly telepathically communicating in that way only siblings can. 

Hesh nods his head, slapping Logan on the shoulder firmly as he calls Riley to a heel position.

“C’mere, boy, we’re leaving.” The dog lopes over as the brunette stops in front of you with a smirk. A silent Logan huffs a chuckle from his position, shaking his head to himself. You look up in confusion, a slow death seeping into you as a teasing expression makes Hesh’s face shift. His arms cross over his chest.

“How do you feel about piggyback rides, Sweetheart?” 

—

You yelp, gripping tighter around David’s neck as the ground nearly gives way, his handle on your hips increasing. His mouth releases a grunt though he quickly rights himself so he doesn’t send the both of you careening over the edge of this rocky hill.

“Easy,” he huffs, looking behind at you as the slowing rain falls on everyone. A brow raises, puffs of breath escaping Hesh’s mouth as he begins to continue on. “Or you’ll choke me out before we make it back.” 

You cringe and loosen your hold, muttering, “Sorry, David.” 

“Hesh’ is fine,” he laughs, turning back, “Only person that calls me David is my old man. And don’t worry about it.” Eyes twinkle. “There are worse ways to die than being choked by a pretty girl.” 

You heat, sputtering for a minute as the joke registers; glaring at his head below your chin. 

“Well then, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I just yanked you off this cliff? Pretty girl and all.”

The deal had been you would keep up with Logan and Hesh as long as you could, from then on the Lieutenant would so graciously allow himself to be the pack mule while Logan and Riley protected the both of you. In all fairness you had done better than expected—David had called you stubborn and practically forced you onto his back when you started dry-heaving on the side of the trail. 

Over the walk, you had gotten into a habit of softly arguing with the man, Logan sending back amused glances every once and a while. It felt good to speak to people again.

“Hm,” Hesh huffs through his nose, sidestepping a boulder and carefully finding footholds in the ascending ground. Riley barks from the top of the hill as if telling him to hurry up. “Y’know I don’t have an answer for that right now. Would you be throttling me on the way down or no?” 

“Depends,” you deadpan, not looking at the edge that the man walks confidently, shivering but still keeping Logan’s blanket over your shoulders.

Hesh blinks water from his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. “On what?”

“On if I can get to you before Riley chomps my hands off.” A loud bark of laughter springs from his chest, unexpected but pure. It echoes off the cliffs and the trees, and you have to laugh slightly with him. You feel his hold squeeze your thighs, hiking you a bit farther up as he makes it to the top, Logan looks at him with a slightly parted mouth before his gaze slides to you. 

You swore there was a spark of thankfulness in his expression, but he’s turning and whistling for Riley a second later. 

“Shit, that’s a fair point.” Hesh chuckles, and you notice his shiver when the cold wind whips past. 

Cheeks burning, you move your hands making the man under you make a noise of confusion. Ignoring it, you peel at the blanket around you and place it above the both of your heads, blocking out the water even if the fabric was already soaking. You rest your elbows on his shoulders and sigh, looking at your bandaged arm for any blood. 

Dark, yes, but all the red fluid was dried. It was seemingly all good. 

Hesh feels his lips pull in a heart-felt smile, stubbled cheeks gaining a sheen as you hide his head from the rain. He didn’t need you to, of course, but the action came from a place of genuine care. It felt…nice. 

“That’s kind of you, Ma’am. Thanks.” Green peaks slightly up, and you turn away so you don’t meet his eye, cheeks burning.

“Least I could do.” Your mouth mutters. “Thanks for not letting Riley eat me alive…and the stitches.” 

Hesh grunts softly, still smiling. 

“Well, I’m not one to let my dog rip apart civilians. Least of all ones that need help.” He keeps a close gaze on Logan and the canine, watching the treeline and the rustling bushes from the blanket edge. “It’s a good thing I found you when I did—wound like that’s a nasty thing to treat half passed out.” He dares to push, “How’d you get it if you don’t mind tellin’ me?” 

You noticed how he would try to ask unassuming questions in hopes you would be able to explain yourself but in reality, you were just as confused. The military was still functioning? You had no idea, stuck in the same areas for…a long, long, time. 

It made you afraid. How…how many years had passed from when the sky had erupted with fire, beams of pure light slamming into the earth. You try not to dwell on it. 

Holding the blanket edge tighter, you wiggle your chilly nose to push back sniffles and explain to the best of your ability. Hesh had called those men Federation Soldiers, and you had heard of that title before the world had fallen apart like a toy castle under the fist of a child. 

Federation…You speak slowly, thoughtful of your words.

“I was running,” David slows a bit, putting distance between the others as he watches Riley sniff an old rusted bucket stuck in the middle of a Black Sage bush. His lips thinned, and a tense feeling in his gut was forming. “I don’t know for how long or where I was going, but I knew that if I didn’t run, I would die.” Your arm was throbbing, but you only look at it and continue. “I bumped right into one of those men when I was trying to see through the rain.”

Voice dipping slightly, you hold back a squeak of surprise when David’s thumbs start moving back and forth slowly over your thigh. Blinking down at the top of his head, you pause and speak through a hitch of breath—the man mistaking it for upset and feeling his eyes crease. 

“...He swiped at me with a knife and I raised my hand up to block it. I,” you stare over at Riley as he runs next to Logan, that brown and black coat soaking wet. “I thought they had sent a dog after me when I saw yours in the house.” 

Hesh tilts his chin to the ground, lungs breathing down a sigh through his nose. Walking around the form of an abandoned and rotting side table, the Lieutenant tries not to imagine how scared you must have been in that instant. 

He moves his head and you look into the expression of a soldier who takes his job very seriously. At the intensity that lives behind his eyes—at close range—you see flecks of bark and mossy dirt; a delicate and almost pretty curve of lashes. You’re entranced by a rugged beauty as you sigh. 

“That’s never going to happen again.” Skin heating, you see his gaze search your face, hold firm. “I said I would get you home,” he declares, letting a small smirk peel his lips. “And I’m not one to go back on my word, you hear?” 

Your chest tightens. You don’t have the heart to tell him whatever place he’s bringing you isn’t your home, but you feel light at the statement anyways. The insinuation was enough.

“Okay,” you mutter, and you both stare a moment longer. 

Nodding subtly, David studies the dirt and grime on your cheeks, the weather on the epidermis in what could have been sun exposure or simple blemishes. Your expression turns shy at the blatant staring, and you move your head back just as Hesh chuckles deeply, blood pumping. Walking faster, the Lieutenant rejoins the other two with an alert eye and a soft smile as a thankful feeling grows for the blanket over his head and the woman holding away the downpour. 

He decided then and there that nothing bad would ever happen to you as long as he was around.

It’s an incredibly long walk, but when you see the Wall for the first time, you nearly fall right off of Hesh’s back. The rain had stopped by now, though the air was still moist and the sun low—giving the world a shivering temperature. 

But the Wall. 

Hesh had called it Liberty Wall in a passing comment as he had let you slide from his hold, your feet stumbling not from fatigue but from sheer amazement. It was…gigantic. Falling to pieces, sure, but nonetheless a great achievement.

“There she is,” David sighed, stretching out his arms and groaning as Logan radios in from where you all stand along the ridge. Riley lies panting at Hesh’s feet. “Good to see ‘er again, huh? Been outside for too long, I’m about ready to eat a whole plate from the mess hall—and that’s really saying something.” 

About to chuckle to himself, eyes narrow in confusion at the realization of your blank expression behind him, frozen body with wide-open lids and parted mouth. Hesh’s brows crease. 

“Hey...you alright?” Clearing your throat, you notice the twin brown and green gazes on you with a quick swivel of your head. 

The brothers share a look.

“Mhm,” you bite your lip, hands descending into your pockets as you shuffle, shoulders rolling under the straps of your backpack. 

Hesh crosses his arms as the radio on Logan’s chest statics with a garbled voice, “Affirmative. You’re all clear to proceed, Sergeant. Good to have you both of you boys back so soon—Riley too.” 

It was becoming even more clear that you needed to be brought to Fort Santa Monica and to their father. You had met Federation soldiers, were in No Man’s Land for who knows how long, and acted as if you’d never seen possibly the most recognizable landmark that had been made during the last ten years since ODIN. 

“Logan,” Hesh turns to his brother but keeps his eyes on you, “radio into dad, yeah? Tell him we’re back and going to be showing up at HQ. Ask for an empty room.”

You stare along the barrier, mind running back to all the events that had happened since the moment the world had changed, wondering. Thinking. 

If this had been here the whole time… Faces flash over the back of your eyes like a layered movie before you push them back. The trail that Hesh and Logan had taken to get here was probably only known to the likes of them—no one else, or you would have traveled it ages ago. The dark-clad soldiers were so numerous that you’d never even thought to take the main road up North, nor the woods. They were everywhere all the time.

A hand grips your upper arm and you flinch, focusing back as Hesh’s strong jaw comes into view. He flattens his lips in a still-line smile of comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, Ma’am.” His hand carefully presses down farther on his hat atop your head, pulling it over your ears once more. “Find you some less soggy clothes.”

“What about you?” You ask without really knowing what you mean, finding some strange sense of comfort when David was near to you. 

The man chuckles, heart jumping, beginning to guide you down the slope and watching you closely in case you trip. Riley keeps on his right, neck hair still bristled whenever he looks your way. 

“What about me?” He asks, cheekily.

“You just carried me more than halfway here,” you shiver and dig deeper into Logan’s blanket, “and you’re just as soaked—I don’t want you to get a cold because of me, Hesh.” 

The sentiment was true. David was feeling worn out, and some of the liquid dripping down his face was undoubtedly sweat, but seeing that adorably concerned expression was almost enough to make him forget the aches in his shoulders and thighs. He blushes and turns his gaze ahead, clearing his throat. 

“Ah,” the man shakes his head, “don’t worry about that. Could’ve been worse.” He smirks, “could have had to carry Logan.” 

You laugh quietly at him as everyone makes their way down into a large, underbridge, area made of concrete; heading quickly to a checkpoint in front of a large pair of black-steel doors built into the Wall. 

“I don’t think it would be that bad. Funny to watch, at least.” Staring at the back of the younger brother, Riley suddenly comes up from behind you, seemingly intent on getting there first. His ear brushes your swaying hand and the next thing you know, Hesh is shoving you to his opposite side as savage barks make you yelp. 

“Woah, Riley!” David hollers and your heart jerks to a ravaging pace, air trapped in your throat as you’re kept close to a strong chest by an arm around your shoulder. “Holy Hell, stand down!” 

Logan by now had turned and was jogging over, grabbing the dog by the vest and peeling him back across the concrete. Panting, you watch with shaking limbs and look down at your fingers. 

Nothing more than a large scratch across the top of your left hand, but it was irritated. You sink deeper into Hesh’s side and cover it against your chest. Green eyes jump back and forth from you to the raging canine, Logan’s grim-set face glaring down at the furry beast, putting Riley into a sit with a gloved hand to his behind. David smushes you closer and after a minute of more barking, the dog falls silent, though still glares at you violently. 

You struggle to take down air, face scrunched like crumpled paper. This dog… 

Hesh glares and clenches his jaw at Riley, for the first time in his life entirely frustrated with the animal. 

Guiding you forward quickly, the brunette doesn’t move his grip, scowling over his shoulder before bee-lining to the entrance. He speaks in clipped sentences to the guards who all know him and his brother well. 

“Take us to HQ.” You’re ushered into the back of an armored truck, Hesh taking your right side and telling Logan to stay with Riley in the next vehicle of the convoy. 

Blinking quickly, you swallow down saliva and hold your hand tighter, shivering and staring at the floor. 

“Let me see,” muttering, Hesh reaches out. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault…Christ, I swear he’s never like this.”

You shakily put your hand in his, the large mark aggressive looking but barely bleeding. But you remember the pressure of Riley’s fangs vividly as they slid past your flesh like soap.

“Ah, shit,” the man huffs, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” His thumb runs over the mark lightly, gritting his teeth and sending you a stiff glance. Your vision tilts as you look away, but the slide of his hold was addictive; the small twitches of his fingers and the warmth they bring. 

“Y’know,” you attempt a small, wobbly, chuff, “he looks a lot cuddlier than he is.” 

Still tense and feeling guilty, Hesh pushes forward a dull twitch of his lips; blaming himself. Maybe the dog needed more socialization if this was how he was going to act around injured civilians when they barely brush against him. 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Still holding your hand, he squeezes before stuttering nerves release you—hesitation to let you go bunching his knuckles for a second more. He liked the feeling of you in his hold, liked how your tension slowly leaked away when his attention was on you. “Doesn’t hurt, does it?” 

You feel the slight pulse in your hand, sighing before shaking your head.

“No, not really.”

“‘Not really’ isn’t givin’ me the reassurance I’m lookin’ for, Ma’am.” Shuffling out of the blanket, you place the water-heavy fabric in the seat beside you as the car flies over the ground, speeding you into safety.

“I think it would be worse if I lied.” Itching at his chin, Hesh huffs and nods, his large body so close to yours that his shoulder bumped yours with every movement of the vehicle. 

Your heart is steadily calming, and you rub at your face. The feeling wasn’t bad, and you almost find yourself leaning into him and putting your head in the slot of his neck.

Stop that.

“Guess so, but it would make me feel less like an ass.” Smiling, you raise a brow and view the way his chest beats quickly through his clothes, bouncing his vest up and down with adrenaline. Green narrows at you and your face heats. “But, no, honesty would probably be best, Sweetheart. I’d hate for you to be hurting and not tell me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smirk, swiping fatigue from your eyes as you yawn. “You’re very nice, Hesh—your brother too. Not what I would expect.” 

Wide lids side-eye you, lips parted. There’s a second of still silence as you slouch back against the seat, placing your stitched arm over your abdomen and pulling Hesh’s hat farther down your head; even if it was wet, it had gained a semblance of a precious gift. Like a present on a holiday, one you shake because you’re so excited to open it you have to stimulate your mind with its hidden contents. 

David blinks quickly, looking away to stare out the window and see the dark sky outside and the shadows it leaves as the twenty-minute drive to Fort Santa Monica truly begins. He lets you rest your eyes, but the comment has genuinely struck him.

Nice was not on the list of what most people called him. Stubborn—a natural-born leader, ruthless, and prey driven. But…nice. He clears his throat quietly and watches the raindrops sneak down the glass. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Ma’am.”

—

You’re sitting in a large room filled with screens playing black and white video footage, pulling at the collar of a two-size-to-big sweatshirt and shifting in large camo pants. They had taken your backpack. In front of you, the face of an older man was simply watching you as you looked around with fatigued wonder. Desks with stacks of papers; large computer data storage boxes, the entire works. One of the upsides to this, you blinked at a water dispenser and realized, was that the lights were dim in here and you were finally somewhere that had AC. 

Inside your head, you were at a standstill. Part of you thought this was a dream, was this really all here the entire time, and you and the others just—

“I think we can start with names.” Your eyes whip forward, finding Elias Walker’s cold brown stare and graying hair as he stands across from the table you’re sitting at; your feet shuffle under the wood.

Hesh and Logan are by the door, the younger leaning on the wall petting Riley and the older keeping his arms crossed and fingers loose on the collar of his vest. Green softens when you look over slightly, a comforting smile finding your vision. He nods.

No need to be worried, he seems to say, I’m right here with you.

Over your head, the damp beanie was still there, now only slightly water-logged. You pull it down over your ears with a slow grip and listen. 

“You can call me Elias, and those are my boys you met,” a pale hand is moved in explanation. He grunts, “I’d imagine you’re all acquainted well enough.” 

You nod giving your name and mutter, “Nice to meet you.” 

Elias crosses his arms over his chest—it’s not hard to see how all of these men are related, though Hesh is more of a carbon copy of the father. The older man has a calm but stern look on his face as he frowns.

“And what was it that drove a civilian down into Federation-occupied land? Past the Wall?” You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, licking your lips. Elias wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “Better yet, how exactly did you make it outside—only way out is through the checkpoint.” Brown darkens, “else there’s a breach I don’t know about.” 

You struggle to answer, not sure if you know how to formulate a sentence that would make any sense. But this was starting to make you nervous. The unyielding intensity, Riley glaring at you, your blatant tiredness. Shock was settling but you didn’t know how to explain.

“How…” speech falters, and Hesh watches closely, frowning but knowing that you had to show them how you had gotten beyond the barrier. It was a massive security breach—it was a miracle you were even alive, really. “How long has it been since that wall was built?”

Elias stills. By the entrance, Hesh’s expression freezes. It’s as if the very air flips at the bare insinuation you offer forward. 

Shifting his hips, the older man’s muscles tense, as if he’s thinking over something very important. “Ten years since ODIN struck. Work on the Wall started right after.” A silent pause. Expectant. You feel your face drain of blood; a blank horror. 

Ten…ten years? It was silly, but your mind quickly went to your age—adding the numbers together and the time you missed. Ten years of hiding; of watching rare acquaintances die, scavenging for supplies. Ten years and this entire time you would have been able to live normally had the Federation camps moved just a tiny bit Eastward to open a path for you. 

“I…” You clear your throat, forcing out a blatantly fake laugh through a whimper, “Wow. That’s something, huh?” 

“You mean to tell me you’ve never left No Man’s Land?” Elias leans forward, placing his hands on the table and closing in. He doesn’t look angry, but his tone is disbelieving. Accusing. “That’s impossible.” 

“Dad,” Hesh steps forward, holding out a hand in front of him and glancing at your numb face—the sway of oblivion. 

“Ten years,” you whisper, staring off into Elias’s tense neck. “But she died just a week ago. All this time we could have…” David turns his head to you sharply. 

It’s like time stands still in that room—a void completely separate from all else besides a brewing acceptance. No one knows who you’re talking about, but the context is little needed for the way you spoke. Obviously, you had lost someone terribly important to you and Hesh understood that the reason you had probably made it so far was because of whoever they had been. You weren’t exactly the perfect image of a natural survivalist—not helpless, no, just not like the Lieutenant of Sergeant. Certainly not like their father.

“Shit,” a hand is lightly placed over your mouth, stomach bunching in your abdomen. 

“Let’s do this another time,” David interferes, and his father throws him a sharp glance. “It’s late, Dad. Everyone needs some rest; we can pick it back up in the morning—first light.” His mouth quirks in a stiff smile, and Logan backs him up silently.

Elias stands back up to his full height, crossing his arms loosely, and you’re stuck in the well that makes up your consciousness, descending bucket being fruitlessly dragged back up by a rusty handle only to fail halfway in the air as the rope bunches. The father sighs deeply and shakes his head, giving in to his son after a clench of his jaw. But it was obvious you posed no great threat.

“Alright.” Hesh nods and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder as you look up at him slowly. He plasters a small smile on his face. It looked incredibly kind—the strong set of his eyebrows now soft. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” Fingers squeeze into your flesh. “There’s a pretty good barracks building a five-minute walk from here—doesn’t smell like the others and you’ll get a room all to yourself.” Elias watches, face losing a part of that tense edge. He shares a glance with Logan and turns to resume his work. “That sound good? I swear I won’t put you up in building three.” You stare and he acts like he’s sharing some big secret as he lets you stand up. “Ant problem.” 

You spare a tiny, broken, chuff of a laugh and his face brightens. A small win.

“You coming, Logan?” The Lieutenant asks, but the blonde is already shaking his head ‘no,’ pointing to the back exit to the shooting ranges. He was a night owl, through and through, and hasn’t changed a bit since they were kids. “Sounds good. I’ll take Riley.” 

“You boys take it easy,” Elias says over his shoulder, and you stay at Hesh’s side as he leads you out of the room, whistling for the dog to come to a heel which the canine does with a lolling tongue and sharp ears.

“You too, old man. Don’t worry about us.” 

“I always do.” The door closes and once again you three are walking together—Hesh more present with using his own body as a barrier between your form and Riley with his right hand near the dog’s vest handle. 

“I think my dad came off a little heavy, sorry about that.” David’s voice brings you back, pulling that bucket a little farther up from the pit below. “It’s just…”

The sentence falls.

You bite your lip and say, “It’s just his job. Even when I think about it,” the man still hasn’t released your shoulder, but instead moves his hand to the span of your shoulder blades. You try not to shiver and fail when he listens as if you’re the most viable source of news ever created. “It does sound a little...insane.” For lack of a better word. 

David chuffs, tilting his head and scrunching one eye. “Maybe just a little.”

The man feels you shaking and he doesn’t think you notice. Eyes wide and fingers twitching from where you keep them. The noise probably doesn’t help.

Buzzing lights and conversations only a door away as the two walk down the hallway and make it to the stairs to lead down to the main floor. From there the sounds were more barking dogs, vehicles, and gunfire from the training grounds. 

This was a military base, after all, and it never really went to sleep. It must be grating to hear after the utter silence of No Man’s Land.

“...But you wouldn’t be the first, believe it or not.” David tries to keep your mind off it, keep your attention on him…but he was curious; desperately so. Yet still, he didn’t want to rush you. You looked so overwhelmed it made his chest squeeze. “Heard a few reports from Dallas before it fell—a family that had lived in a man-made bunker and were found by patrols five years in when they were out scavenging.” 

“Really?” Your lashes caress your cheeks, and a small smile comes to you. You wonder how this man can make you feel so comforted; at ease despite the dog at his side and the various intimidating-looking gear strapped to him. Hesh was good-natured, it almost seemed impossible to imagine him a hardened soldier like you knew he really was. Kind, if not a bit mischievous and blunt. “That sounds more interesting than what I lived like.”

“Well, I doubt that.” Lips perk in a smirk. “Anyone with brains knows that time spent outside the Wall is always interesting.” 

“We just moved around a lot,” you admit, “those soldiers were always changing camps so we never stayed long anywhere.” 

“Hm,” Hesh makes a sound in the back of his throat, nodding. “Could’ve guessed that. Bastards jump around like cockroaches—can never get a good hit on ‘em.” He doesn’t press. 

“Really?” You feel more present now, itching at your cheek before looking at Riley as he lopes along and watches the roads from where you walk on the sidewalk. “What about the pattern?” 

David blinks his green eyes at you, face creasing. 

“Pattern?” 

“Yeah, they shift in a hexagon pattern every month. I had a map with it marked so I knew where to set camp.” Breath stills and Hesh stares at you, shocked, but his tone changes to a serious rush. He turns you slightly towards him with two hands on your arms.

“Would…you be able to mark those points again? If you had another map.” You lick your lips, cheeks going hot as you stutter, and feel his hands press into you. His chest was incredibly close to you, body heat leaking into your bones. Riley glares.

“Y-yeah, I think so.” David studies your face, searching for any hesitance. He pauses, green glimmering. There’s a moment when you notice the fast blinking on his face, the slight flush to his stubbled jaw as he clenches it, and are reminded of the caressing thumb that had dug into your inner elbow. 

Delicate stitches. 

The world blurs like a reflection in unknown water. Ripples that distort the streetlights into the shadows on his face and create soft waves of old scars and pale flesh in their warm illumination. Hesh’s breath hitches.

“G-good.” And he’s releasing you quickly as you wonder if being found by him was truly the best thing that could have happened. You spare a glance at Riley with racing blood, trying to stop the smile that insists to form for no reason. The dog cocks its head. “We’ll…get on that tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Whispers dance on airwaves as David keeps his eyes forward. Clearing his throat as you clock that tick and pull his beanie off. You bump your elbow to his side and he snaps his neck back over like a line with a hook. “You should have this back.”

You both walk slowly, side by side down a back street, and spare each other quick glances with flaming faces.

“No, that’s alright,” Hesh utters, rubbing at his neck and avoiding looking at you head-on. Your fingers brush the fabric and your expression softens. “I have a whole bunch in my room, don’t worry about it. I’d…” he chuckles to dispel the strange tension in his shoulders. “I want you to have it. Don’t want you cold.”

Your eyes crinkle, and the man swallows.

“So you think that your hat will help with that?” Teasing, you take it back anyways and situate it back on your head, shyly putting your hands into your pockets. “What? Is it special?”

“Woah,” Hesh, smirks with a raise of a hand, pointing lightly at you. “Hey now, Sweetheart, don’t disrespect my beanies like that—they’ll save your life.” 

Laughs bounce off the street. 

“I guess I’ll have to keep a close eye on it then,” Riley huffs and Hesh pats his neck firmly, giving him attention. “For my safety.”

“Damn right.” Your heart hurts from how fast it’s beating, that great muscle like a large drum that echoes in your ears. Skin tingles with an undeniable tension in the air.

The barracks building comes into view. 

It’s nothing extravagant, but the thought of a soft bed and a pillow not filled with mold was addicting. Your eyes blink along the structure as Hesh leads you in, keeping the door open for you as he tells Riley to sit at the entrance. The dog does so, though obviously with disapproval—grunting in that lupine way as the barrier separates him and his handler.

“He really does not like me,” you mutter out, raising a brow and catching back up to David who waits a few more feet into the building. 

The brunette sighs.

“He does tend to hold grudges. Once he wouldn’t play fetch with Logan for two days because he forgot to give him his dinner.” 

“Hell,” your brows raise up, “my odds are in the ground.”

“Probably, Ma’am.” You elbow his side again and he chuckles, bumping his shoulder into you as his hands sway at his sides. “Ah, don’t hold it too close, Riley’s just a special case. My father trained him so he’s all business.” A smirk, “Nothing like me.” 

You stop as Hesh does—in front of a nice-looking wooden door.

“Here.” He points to the handle and you grasp it, twisting and pushing past. 

You enter a tiny but clean room smelling like linen and golden light. Delicately, as if the world would break apart if you touched anything you stare at the lamp on the nightstand, the curtain over the window; the…comfort. The sight of an extra blanket on the end of the bed almost made you cry. 

“Now,” Hesh slides past you as your lip quivers, wide eyes looking around. “No one else can access these barracks without an ID, so there’s nothing that should go…wrong…” 

He trails off when he sees your face.

“Hey,” David takes a step forward. “What’s wrong?” His eyes slip around, looking for what might have upset you as he comes back to you.

“Nothing,” fingers lightly rest on your collarbone as you shake your head; vision going blurry at the man’s worried face. “Nothing’s wrong, Hesh, I promise. Just…” you laugh wetly, and a tear drops down your chin. “I forgot what it was like to have an extra blanket.”

It was more than that, but the statement was all you could describe right now without making a complete fool of yourself. David’s breath stills, hand stuck an inch from your arm. 

He watches the tears fall from you and, without thinking, he reaches up the back of his pointer finger and brushes it along the flesh; creating a line of fire up until he completely swipes it away. After a second of quivering silence, the air flimsy as your lungs jump, he finds no fear or discomfort in your expression and does this again—wiping away any trace of past hurts. 

Blinking, you tilt your head forward and bump it into his chest. Startled slightly, Hesh grunts, but his hand finds the back of your head above his beanie and cups it, staring down at you with hot cheeks and a thick throat. 

“I…” he begins but can’t find the words. You made him want to skin his hands of calluses so that the roughness of his touch was foreign to you. 

You only deserved warm flesh and extra blankets. As much food as you could eat—soft mattresses and even softer clothes. So short of a time he had known you, but not a second more did he want you to suffer. 

Ten years. He can’t even imagine it, and yet here you are in his arms. Kind. Unbroken.

Hesh’s head stutters, hesitating, before his neck bends and he presses his face into the top of your head, closing his sad eyes and running his other hand up and down your back. 

Sniffling, you melt even more into him.

“She died a week before you found me—my friend. She was with me since the beginning.” The hitched voice that comes out of you is so quiet that the brunette has to strain his ears to listen but listen to you he does. Silent as a bug and tightening his hold so you hear his strong heartbeat rampaging in his chest. 

Logan and him did this a lot when their mother died. Just hugged and held each other as if their lives depended on it. He doesn't know why, but he knows it has to be the same for you as well.

“Infection. She fell,” your voice cuts out, “fell on a rusty nail. She’s the only reason I made it this far.”

“Where were you?” Hesh asks, lungs aching for you. “When ODIN struck—in town?” 

You return to that time, hand sliding up to wrap around his waist to ground yourself. David lets you, increasing the pressure of his gentle hand on your spine. “Hiking. It…it was a family vacation.”

His jaw clenched tight. A swelling hatred strangles his neck, a feeling that makes his eyes slip back open—forests burning in his iris’ in great waves of an inferno. He had never wanted to charge out into San Diego more than at this very moment.

A family vacation had turned into a decade of surviving. Hesh didn’t have the heart to ask about where your family was now. He already knew the answer.

“Everything just…fell apart.” Your ribs hide your fast-paced lungs, your sniffling nose stuck deep into fabric.

“I know,” the man grunts, “I know it did, I’m sorry.” It’s all he can say. He knows. David pulls you back by the shoulders after a moment and slightly moves his head down to look at you head-on. “But you’re here now, okay? Behind the Wall. You made it. And I’m gonna make sure that you’re never alone like that again.” He attempts a smile as you see his concerned expression, shining with sincerity and honor. “I’d stake Riley on it.”

The wet giggle that exits you is automatic, and Hesh chuckles right back; put at ease and ears bouncing with that sound that he commits instantaneously to memory. 

“That’s counterintuitive, Hesh. I don’t want your dog.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I never break my word, huh?” Perhaps why he was so good at this, comforting people, was because of Logan. Only two years apart, but he’d taken the big brother role easily—loved it, in fact. It made him feel good to see people smile.

But it made him feel on the moon when it was you.

You watch his green eyes slip over your face, thumb going to wipe away the last drops on your under eye as a deep heat starts smoking inside of you. David speaks lowly, compassion so visible you find you want to gaze upon his face for hours; mapping lines and piecing together what made this man…him. 

“Feeling better?” Smiling softly, you find yourself leaning into his hands on your face. The brunette smiles back and chuckles. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide, to stick by his side—even if Riley was less than approving.

“Feeling better.”

You sleep that night with an extra blanket wrapped around your body and a dark beanie on your head; taking in the scent from the fibers of thistle and dog hair. You’d never smelt something more comforting.

—

A week passes with a flurry of activity. You find out that Los Angeles is still habitable—in fact, there’s a stable economy in the city and people are thriving. Fort Santa Monica is home to not only a handful of civilians from before the war but also an incredibly large amount of military personnel all under Elias Walker's command. 

Hesh had taken you out on the third day for a ‘tour’ as he called it, but it was also due to the fact that you’d been too afraid to leave your room when not called upon. There were so many…noises…again. People laughing, happy conversations, and greetings thrown your way.

“Word got out about the girl that lived in No Man’s Land,” David had teased as you awkwardly waved at a woman in fatigues that had slapped your shoulder and invited you out for drinks with her friends. You had politely declined. “Everyone’s eager, seems.” 

“I think I forgot how to properly speak to people,” you had sent a frown and a huff his way, keeping close to him as he led you on with a wave of his hand and a deep chuckle. 

But in all this time you had earned yourself a big reputation for being the woman who handed over intel that others had only just begun to unravel. Federation base locations. Patterns on movement—irreplaceable data.

Which was why you’d been asked, rather told, by Hesh that you’d be going to the bar with him and Logan for drinks. On the house. 

You’d quickly found it to be a strange affair.

“Not feelin’ up to it, Sweetheart?” your eyes lift from where you’d been swirling your still-full glass of amber liquid. “I know it can be a little loud—I’m sorry. Merrick’s a giggly drunk.”

Green eyes stare at you with pity, throat bobbing as a beer bottle sits on Hesh’s lips; the last dregs going down before he wipes his mouth with his sleeve. 

“If you wanna leave I’ll walk you back, okay?”

“No,” you wave a hand, touched but hesitant, “that’s alright. I’m fine, really.”

The lieutenant smirks and tilts his head—raising a dark brow in disbelief. The two of you had gotten close over the days; he had told you early on that you were easy to read for him.

“Don’t make that face at me, David.” You glare, pointing from your seat at the bar top. Hesh rolls his eyes and shakes his head as if disappointed.

“Whoa, first name—that’s illegal.” 

Your lips pull up in a sharp smile, leaning over the table as the music from the building plays in your ears; warm light on your cheeks and nose. “David, David, David!” 

“Hey! Quit it!” You’d grown fond of him in a way you can’t describe. So short of time and yet you both still get giddy when you see one another—hearts hammering. Even now as the laughter spills from both of your lips and people in the bar spare knowing glances, you don’t address it. 

“But really,” Hesh levels and you watch him spread his hands in surrender, beer bottle still shimmering in one hand, “whenever you want to go, just ask.”

“Hesh!” A call bounces from the far corner and you both look over, startled, to Ajax at the pool table. “Get over here so I can wipe the floor with you!” 

There’s a bout of laughter from the other bar patrons, bets being placed loudly. 

“Hey, it won’t be that easy—you’re on!” Hesh is off with a rush, patting your shoulder as he passes. You watch after with a wide smile and a raised brow, muttering to yourself.

“He’s unbelievable.” You can’t deny the loftiness that you feel when he looks happy like that. Really happy. It’s nearly a curse to try and think about what he would have become if the Federation hadn’t fired ODIN. He would have been in the military still, no doubt, but not quite the same. 

Hell, what would you have been like, even?

A shadow slips into the chair next to yours, and you look over, content. “Hey, Logan.”

The younger brother nods to you, sipping from his glass of water, a greeting smile on his square jaw. True to the brunette’s word, he was very quiet, but you didn’t find it in a disrespectful way. Logan carried himself with a subdued power, and the dichotomy between Hesh and him was laughable when you really thought about it; polar opposites.

You didn’t mind in the slightest.

Holding an easy conversation with nods or tiny comments back, you spoke with him for about twenty minutes while Hesh and Ajax called each other names and threw baseless threats through smirking lips like toddlers. At one point a very drunk Petty Officer Second Class, Thomas A. Merrick, had to drag a laughing Ajax off the pool table while you and Logan watched with exasperated glances. 

But the air was easy and the drink was flowing—soldiers from all over the Fort were here tonight. For you, though most just came for a good sip of alcohol and you didn’t blame them. You just did what was right, nothing more. 

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you tap a fist to Logan’s shoulder and he looks at you, sparing a quick glance at Hesh. You smile. “Nah, I think he’s going to be at it for a while. I’ll just walk back by myself—I’ve got my keycard, so I’m all good.”

A yell of victory rings from the corner before a loud exclamation of, “Rematch, right now! Your foot hit one of the balls to the left when you were climbing it!”

“It did not!” Logan stares blankly behind you and you laugh, slipping past. 

“Tell Hesh I said to have a good night!” You call over your shoulder, catching adoring brown eyes following you out and a mock salute from his water glass. 

Riley sits outside, resting his eyes, but when the door closes behind you the canine springs to his feet. The week hadn’t soured your relationship, but it definitely didn’t make it better either. Frowning, you pause in the night and look at the empty food dish and the filled water cup set out by Hesh for him.

“Tough luck, bud?” A muzzle lightly curls, but at least he wasn’t barking at you. Ears stand alert and ready. “Look,” you level, pulling Hesh’s beanie farther down your head as those beady eyes glare. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, okay? It’s not like I want you to hate me—I was protecting myself. You,” your finger points, and a lupine huff warns you, “came at me.” You point to your chest. “Remember?” 

It was comedic the way Riley yawned harshly at that moment, and you scoff.

“Who am I kidding, you’re hopeless just like your handler. I shouldn’t even be doing this,” reaching into your jacket pocket, you produce a small, soggy, napkin. Bending down, Riley growls low in his gut, but you ignore him. Not to say that the sound didn’t make your lips thin, though.

Unraveling the knot you’d tied in the bar, you look down at tiny cubes of medium-rare steak and sigh. “Look if this doesn’t work, I’ll give up.”

Flattening out the napkin, you pick up a piece and turn your vision upwards to an intently watching dog. At the sight of the food in between your thumb and first finger, the dog’s mouth gradually opens, tongue beginning to lull. A black nose twitches quickly. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you grumble, “Hesh said you were a food fiend.” 

Tossing one of the pieces on the ground, you let him sniff it before his teeth flash and he grabs it quickly, tossing it up and munching on it. When Riley’s done he looks back at you expectantly, shoulders less wound up but still uneasy. 

“Well,” you push the rest forward before standing, “go on then. Don’t let me stop you.” 

Shaking your head to yourself, you leave him behind and set off down the street, mumbling, “You can’t say I never did anything for you…” 

You hear the sniffing before the clammer of biting teeth, happy pants, and tapping feet. Huffing, you can’t deny the slight jump that affects your heart. You’d have to tell Hesh about the progress tomorrow. 

Your cheeks heat, smiling to yourself as you think about the brunette. His hands always seemed to be on you one way or another and during the last two days he’d been holding onto you for longer; firm touches that he had to blink himself back to the present to take away. The actions made your skin tingle and more than once you’d caught your gaze lingering on his visage—his body. As if trying to will him back to you when he had to leave. 

But the staring was mutual. You had sworn at one point you had seen him more intent to fuzzily look at your moving lips than to focus on what you were explaining. Fingers absentmindedly tapping on a desk and humming at every word from you. The look had been…your body shivers warmly in remembrance, staring giddily at your shoes. 

You continue down the street, circles of light from the lamps hitting you one by one as you glide under them like a moth. Humming a light tune, you take the route that Hesh had brought you down the first time, imagining his hands on you and his lips on yours. 

When you giggle silently and chastise yourself for thinking like that, you hear the last whispers of a distant conversation that lead you to pause.

Your face freezes, smile stuck as your legs stall. It was Spanish wafting over the air, hushed and harsh. That wouldn’t be alarming, many people here spoke the language fluently as it was the native one of the entirety of the Federation—it was needed for intelligence gathering, or at least that was what Hesh had explained. No use going into No Man’s Land if you can’t understand the driving force occupying it. 

But this was hushed arguing, not some common conversation. It didn’t sound normal and the scuffling feet over the concrete gave you pause. The night suddenly became very cold. Backing up a step as you stare in the general direction of the increasing footfalls, the sudden sight of three heavily armed men as they round a corner with strong eyes. 

Your vision finds them immediately—and they do the same for you. It was instinctual, then, when your suddenly fevered face snapped to their patches. 

Gold stars and a black rhombus. Red outlined. Your expression utterly drops. 

There’s a single instance where no one moves, neither you nor those three Federation soldiers that now stare right back with an equal amount of shock. 

“Eh,” you make a sound in the confines of your throat and all hell breaks loose.

Jolting away, shouts ring out as hands snatch at your limbs, and you can’t even begin to think about how these people got into the Wall undetected. 

Everyone’s at the fucking bar!

Yelling loudly, you dash to the side, a quick swipe going above your head as the beanie is wrenched off of you instead of your hair. Not bothering to fight for it, though a large part of you wanted to, your feet take you anywhere but here. 

Roaring in anger, the soldiers pursued with rampaging boots and vitriolic order. Why they don’t shoot you is a wonder. Maybe it was because they wanted to try and salvage what they’d already lost. 

The screams escape you as you dash backward, retracing your steps but it isn’t going to be long before they catch you—true to that idea, just as the words exit your mouth, a harsh hand captures the back of your neck. 

“David!” The other winds around your mouth, muffled screams stuck behind gloves. Legs and arms striking out, your body is dragged into a back alley; the others all join to force you to submission. 

Your boot connects with someone’s kneecap, and a hoarse yell echoes as you rage with a frenzied pulse. Wide eyes look this way and that, sweat forming on your brow as a punch finds your gut and a resounding insult flies to your ears. 

Going slack for a moment, the violent white that bursts behind your vision leaves your straining muscles useless and you try to breathe behind the unrelenting hand over your mouth and nose. Like a shot deer, your dragging legs give out; coughing and gasping for air. 

Pain shoots down your chest with ruthless efficiency. 

You suppose in that moment of ringing ears, that it was chance that you heard the dull shunk of a knife being taken from a sheath. It wasn’t chance, though, when your desperate teeth snapped into the heavy hand, ignoring pain and the tears smeared over your face.

With a sharp cry, the hand loosens enough for you to get the last word, a brief moment of clear realization, “Riley,” you scream with little breath but sufficient volume, “Come!” 

The knife descended on you, but you jerked your shoulder to the side, head ripped back to bare your neck to the silent moonlight as the hand recovered your face. Black dots swirl, shadows lingering like phantoms in the recesses of your mind and spilling demons from your eyes. Hatred flares in you, but not as much as fear does. That silver blade connects with the meat of your neck and shoulder junction, tearing past muscle and tissue to rent a large slash open to the air. 

Your legs kick before arms wrap around them—more quickly called orders and insults directed at the one who had missed your neck peeling back the drums inside of your ear. Thick, hot, blood stains your clothes; the copper scent gets stuck in your nose as you gag and try to force your lungs to function with nothing to suck down. Darkness seeps deeper, and the knife is brought up once more, the tip digging into your cheek with a firm bite when you try to flinch away.

That’s when a guttural and vociferous yowl exudes from the chest of a rampaging canine as it bursts from around the corner of the alley, white teeth glinting and eyes red. 

Riley has the man with the knife by the neck in two seconds flat, reaming him back and clinging to his spine with only his fangs on his nape. Multiple wet crunches echo for but a moment, a small sliver in time, but then the loud pained bellows that follow after drown out all else. Like a bomb had been dropped, the man Riley keeps ripping apart falls sideways, hands reaching behind his head to try and pry the dog off. In a fit of fear and stupefaction at the turn of events the remaining men release you, tossing your body to the side and into the adjacent wall in panic. 

Hands reach for guns but it’s already too late. Riley has ripped the entire back of the man’s head off in a flurry of fur and jerking maw—flesh peeling back in long strings into a waiting mouth as the screams continue. Now, though, they come from only the remaining soldiers as you watch with mute horror; gripping your leaking cut and vision fuzzy from the blow that your head had taken from slamming into the wall. Lack of oxygen. 

With all the ruckus, it was only customary that the streets were soon awake with confusion and rising tension. You swore you heard your name being called streets over, hurried yelling as the lights flicker on from the building across the road.

But Riley. Christ, Riley. 

The second man’s pistol was stopped from rising any farther as fast fangs found a wrist, the shot bouncing off the ground as you balked back against the wall and cried out. Across the Fort, the yelling starts up. Louder now. That remaining soldier unaffected thus far by the feral rage is snapping into a ready stance—shaking as the barrel is leveled with the dog’s skull as sharp points go for the kill once again. 

“Riley!” You snag out a leg and rip it back, curling your foot around his ankle. Black clothes hit the ground hard, as the man inside went with them. 

It carried on just the same. 

Panting you stare into the blood-dripping muzzle that now turns your way, three opened necks pooling to the ground and twitching. Gargling gasps dribble like glasswork exploding in kilns; such a vulgar, primal, sound. But you only stare at the beady brown eyes as they seem to bite you as well. Framed with crimson, whiskers droopy as droplets hit your knee and rancid breath slides over your stalled face.

“Please…” you mutter, bruised head turning to the side, eyes clenched shut. Licking lips resonate and you clench your hands as you finally hear the frantic calling of your name coming down the road. Fast-moving shadows.

Hesh.  

Riley breathes on you, but before your swallowing throat can call out the brunette in fear of what the dog will do, a wet tongue licks a long stripe over your cheek. Eyes bugging, you snap your head back up, jaw slackened and brain struggling to calm down. 

The dog watches with a slow tilt of his head, tail lowly swishing. 

“What the fuck,” gasping wetly, the hand on your wound lessens, hot fluid gushing between fingers. 

Riley huffs, feet shifting. 

Laughing slightly in anxious confusion, your free hand lightly raises. Soft fur conforms to you, letting your digits weave through the locks. Riley licks his lips once more and sits on his fluffy behind, ears sharply up and twitching. 

Hesh nearly runs past the sight, heart too fast for his chest and teeth clenched tight together. His mind was as sober as it could be—a deep sense of unease clawing in his gut. 

He’s heard the screaming; the gunshot. When he’d run out of the bar after doing a quick headcount for you and being unable to place your form, Riley had already been gone. A trail of dust and a floating napkin were the only indicators. But the fear was worse than that.

Where had you gone? Were you in danger? No thought was behind his sprinting, just a flushed face and a deep need to keep you safe. He’d promised you. 

No one had been able to stop his senseless searching as he took off at a racer’s pace, looking down alleyways and carrying the pistol in his right grip until his knuckles had gone white and see-through. Like a loyal hound, Hesh was intent to find you. Even if it turned out to be nothing. 

And then the real screams started, and so he screamed too—your name.

But now he slams a hand into the concrete wall and reels himself back, a hunched shadow stiff in the side of his green vision before he can fully pass the alleyway entrance. 

“Holy…” Hesh trails harshly, gaze going wide. 

You were there surrounded by three Federation soldier’s bodies and while that was alarming, there was only so much you could do when you were a corpse. Riley held in your arms was something that Hesh couldn’t begin to explain. 

But the shock was short-lived.

“Sweetheart!” He called, boots propelling him forward as he slid to one knee in front of you, hands pushing past fur and muscle to bring yours forward by your shoulders. A handgun is placed into the back of his belt. “Woah, woah, hey. Tell me what happened. Where does it hurt?” 

Staring into your eyes you immediately relax at the presence of the man, his large body seeming to shield you away while sending glances around the area; not liking the thought of more attackers. 

“Hesh,” you breathe, massive weight coming off of you even as you bite your lip in a pained whimper. 

“I’m here. I’m right here.” Hands travel over your body, gliding over bumps and bruises quickly and efficiently. “What the fuck…” he growls deeply. “It’s all gonna be okay.” 

A swift glance is sent to the canine who watches blankly. 

“Good job, boy.” You stare blurrily into Hesh’s neck as he carefully peels back your hand, face scrunching and body pulling together as sparks of agony alight as the gaping cut meets the breeze. 

“I,” stuttering, you ignore his harsh inhale, the ripping of his shirt as he presses the tattered cloth to your neck. You shiver. “I lost your beanie.”

Fearful green eyes lock on your as the calls from the rest of the soldiers from the bar finally make an appearance. How fast had Hesh been running to find you? 

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his palm encapsulates your cheek like a prized family heirloom, keeping your face pointed toward him as you shiver. The soft scraping of his hard calluses itches your flesh. A strained smile graces his lips, “I’ll give you another one.” He looks the rest of you over and grits his teeth. 

He doesn’t care about the dead soldiers—the possibility of a breach. Suddenly, all of his priorities had shifted in the short span of a week, horrible loyalty rearing its head.

“I need you to stand up for me, Sweetheart, okay? I’ll be right here, I just need you on your feet. I know you can do it.” You nod shakily, pulling strength from his resolve as his arm pulls you to his chest like it had when you’d first hugged; using his muscles to drag you up a second after checking to see if you weren’t in too much pain. 

Standing now, his grip stays around you, propping you up into the crook of his arm and increasingly looking more and more worried. 

When you flinch and whine, he looks about ready to burn down cities to bring you comfort. 

“Riley, come on!” Hesh calls, then softer, “I know it hurts, but you’re doing great. Keep at it just a little longer.” 

He moves you quickly, and the pounding in the back of your head threatens to drown out everything—your neck and ribs barely made a dent like that did. A pan being hit with a spoon. Nails on a chalkboard.

“Logan!” David yells, and he feels incredibly warm. Riley brushes your staggering legs, keeping close and looking up at you. Leaning in more heavily, you gaze up into Hesh’s frowning face, his continued glances, and the furrow in his brow. 

You wonder how you’d never noticed how truly handsome he was before. Hesh had a strong face—good bones and a soft nature to his skin besides the stubble. And his eyes. Oh, his eyes. You blink up at him and he spares a stiff smile, mostly dragging you down the alley. 

Other feet pound the ground near the entrance.

“What’s that look for? Huh? Makin’ me nervous over here.” His fingers squeeze your shoulder. “Got something on my face?” 

“You’re kind, Hesh.” You whisper, blinking and stumbling before he grunts, twisting his grip to bring you up into a bridle hold. “Far kinder than you should be.”

His heart breaks.

Clenching your teeth, you bury your head into his neck before the brunette starts to run again. He pounds past Logan and a group of armed soldiers, who slide to a quick stop. Hesh only spares his wide-eyed brother a single, horror-stricken, look on the way through. Riley follows.

“Just keep talking.” He pleads, your dead weight in his grip worse than anything he’d ever experienced. “Y’know, you keep ending up in my arms.” He rounds corners, heading to the MTF with a bursting pulse. Hesh keeps looking down at you, pressing your head closer with a hand as if he could bleed himself to give you strength. “I think I should get my own plaque—Pack Mule. What do you think?” 

Laugh, please, laugh. Please, I need to hear it.

You laugh slightly, ear ringing to his blood flow. You want to melt into him, let him keep holding you like this and keeping you to him like a stuffed animal. His breath on your cheek, his glassy eyes and bitten lips. 

You’d known he was good from the moment you had seen him standing and gaping at your form in that bathroom cabinet, willing to treat your wound without even knowing if you were armed.

He’s good.

Hesh sprints past an entrance, shoulder slamming into a glass door as it’s thrown to the side. 

“Nurse!”

You don’t know why, but hearing his voice crack like that made you want to sob.

—

The soft antibacterial whip made you glower and flinch back, frowning straight into Hesh’s serious face.

“If you clean it anymore my skin will fall off.” You shoo his hand away from your shoulder, pulling the hospital gown back up in the process. 

“Just making sure it’s healing,” he looks up at you from his chair as you sit on the end of the bed. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Says the man who’s been here every day and leaves Riley to watch the door when he has to go to the bathroom.”

“Hey,” Hesh blushes, pulling back to slouch and crossing his arms. “It’s called being cautious. We still don’t know where the breach is.” 

You stare with a soft smile, exasperation in your eyes. 

“David,” he raises a brow at the title, “I’m okay.” 

Moving your hand from your lap, you absentmindedly pet the dog that sleeps on the hospital bed, itching behind Riley’s ears. Hesh watches, moments passing as the small tension seeps out little by little. He glances at the outline of stitches that he has to place bandages on soon but quickly looks away, frowning to himself. 

You sigh, shaking your head. 

“When I heard your voice from the alleyway entrance, I knew I would be just fine.” Green slowly slides back, gaze softening considerably as he watches your expression. A low grunt is forced out, a rubbing of a hand on his neck. “You promised, didn’t you?” Your head tilts. “You haven’t broken it.”

“No, I haven’t,” Hesh breathes, standing, “and I don’t intend to.” 

You smile, face hot as his vision blinks to the upturn of your lips. “Hey,” Riley stirs next to you, “at least I know I won him over.” Your hand pats the dog’s head. 

The brunette stares and a moment passes before he whispers, “knew you would.”

Blinking, you turn to find the most delicate expression on David's face and your breath hitches in your chest. He swallows but doesn’t hesitate. The words had been eating at him for a while, and as he was never one to shy away from speaking his mind, it was like torture to keep this from you. But now…now events have forced him into the spotlight. He can’t forgo this anymore, he can’t lie and say he hadn’t been sneaking glances or daydreaming about you. Your smile, your voice—even the way you walked or how your eyes lit up when you were passionate about something. 

It was just right, and seeing you like this now only strengthened that. Hesh had felt fear like he had when he was carrying you a total of a mere handful in his entire life. 

He mutters, “I knew from the second I found you out in No Man’s Land that you were special.”

Not believing your ears, you stop your petting. Wide eyes like dinner plates and a half-parted mouth. 

Was he…?

“I knew when you made me laugh when I was carrying you through the hills,” Hesh takes a step closer and grabs you lightly by the chin, tilting it up with a finger. His face was adorably burning, but you short-circuit at the words that continue to flow with candor. Your heart skips beats and with a clammy hand, you reach up to brush his wrist. Shivering, confidence builds. “I knew when I hugged you the first night you were here and,” he looked down, “I…I knew you were special when I felt my heart bursting out of my chest when I found you in that alley.” 

“Hesh,” you whisper, and you realize you close the two of you had become, breath mixing like a cocktail of glorious infection and stolen words. 

“If I hadn’t gotten there on time…” 

“Hesh.”

“...Even if I’ve only known you for a short while, Sweetheart, I can’t stop thinking the same thing every time I see you.” You stare, eyes wet, and suddenly no longer aware of where your head is anymore. 

His lips brush yours, but all you care about are those green eyes; digging, drilling past membranes and thoughts more effectively than any blade. You’re entranced, wholeheartedly frozen just for him—just as he is for you. 

It’s nothing but a whisper now. You feel the words more than hear them. His thumb tightens on your chin, and you don’t pull back as you steal his warmth. His kindness. 

His loyalty.

“...that even if I hadn’t entered that house on that rainy Tuesday,” he shutters, “I’d still be looking for you everywhere I went.” 

When his lips meet yours, you capture his soul, dragging him down into the depths of your lungs and breathing hope back into him. You smile through it, bandaged and stitched but happier than you’d been in a long time. 

Pulling back from a soft and delicate meeting of flesh, both faces are heated, burning under the pigments. There’s a moment of sanctity—holy silence one would find in a church during high mass—as you stare at one another. Hesh’s fingers run small movements on your skin. You beam and he says in a whisper, “Hey…I guess that means I did something right.”

“You’re lucky you’re perfect, David.”

“I could say the same about you, Sweetheart.” You giggle and drag him back in as Riley snoozes on, legs kicking in a silent dream. 

When the nurses come to check on you in four hours, they’ll find the bed occupied by three forms. 

A soldier, a patient, and a dog. All curled up in a pile of multiple blankets and hard pillows—arms wrapped around one another with the man pressing the woman’s face deep into his chest; even breaths of a soft sleep that sing like rare lullabies. All, in their own way, seem to have heavy smiles stuck into the lines of their faces.

They leave them be.

TAGS:

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[tumbleweed-writes]

hi babe. from your smut prompt list can we have #50 #52 with Chibs? thank uuu

Homecoming: Chibs Telford X Reader

18+ of course.

=======

When Y/N had fled Santa Monica heading up north to the idyllic little town of Charming, she’d only had the intention of wanting to be closer to her older sister. Lyla Dovorak was technically Y/N’s half sister. They shared the same mother and were only a couple of years apart.

Lyla was barely two years old when Y/N was born. 

Their mother, Ruth, had a tendency to approach romance with the strange idea that perhaps getting pregnant with her romantic partners might keep them around. Of course this had never worked in her favor.

Ruth tended to pick men who were more interested in getting laid than actually sticking around after the afterglow faded. She’d not gone for guys who stuck around when things got difficult. 

Lyla’s father had left as soon as the pregnancy test had turned blue which had been a problem as Ruth had been barely sixteen then and her baby’s father had been about to turn twenty and according to Ruth wealthy enough to make it seem as though there was no way he’d fathered a child with white trash like Ruth.

Y/N’s father had not been much better. The man had run off with the single neighbor, who lived in the mobile home across from them, when Y/N was two which had been a problem as he’d  left Lyla and Y/N home alone for their mother to find after she’d gotten home from her waitressing gig.

There had been a revolving door of men after that, but Ruth had at least been done with attempting to keep a significant other via pregnancy. The men had not been the nicest and Lyla and Y/N had been forced to see a few things that they were not psychologically prepared for. 

Needless to say Lyla’s and Y/N’s homelife as children had not been without dysfunction. 

Y/N and Lyla had both long ago accepted that their mother’s choices were born out of a low self esteem and probably a bit of immaturity thrown into the mix.

The woman had mellowed out with age. Ruth had finally settled down with a decent guy; some trucker named Lou who was not entirely in the best of health, but at least treated their mother with respect and had been willing to take on two step daughters even if the women were grown adults and well past the age of feeling that they needed a dad. 

Lyla and Y/N had both unfortunately had their own unfair shots at love. 

Lyla’s ex had left when she was pregnant with Piper. Lyla had been a young single mom desperate to make ends meet doing something more profitable than waitressing like their mother had done.

Lyla had found that sex work was the best way to make ends meet. Working for Cara Cara was not Lyla’s dream career but she was smart enough to know that her looks could pull in plenty of money and she needed to strike while the iron was hot.

Y/N herself had always been the more reserved sibling. She was shy and less likely to ever be comfortable expressing her sexuality as openly as Lyla did even for a paycheck.

She’d taken a creative path going to cosmetology school and earning a license. She’d thought she could work for movie studios but had only landed a job in a nice salon. She did not do hair and nails for Hollywood starlets, but instead took care of upscale clientele.

It was a cushy job and she was well paid for her services. It was not what she’d been hoping for though.

Her romantic life had also been riddled with disappointment.

She’d dated immature guys who were not ambitious about anything other than playing video games all day or intense guys who only cared about hitting up the nightclubs and engaging in illicit substances. 

She had a tendency to attract men who did not respect her nor appreciate her attempts at love.

Her biggest disappointment had pushed her up north. 

Y/N had been engaged to a long time boyfriend who on paper had seemed like a great match. He was actually ambitious when it came to his career. He didn’t do anything more than enjoy the occasional glass of wine. He had charm and was conventionally handsome. He’d bought her a large diamond engagement ring and made all sorts of promises about the future. 

Unfortunately he had proven to Y/N time and time again that he did not appreciate her nor respect her. 

Their relationship had consisted of him breaking her heart repeatedly; claiming he was a changed man and then proving he’d not changed at all. It had become a cycle. They got back together, he cheated, he blamed her, she broke up with him, he came to her crying claiming he wanted to change, and she took him back. Then the cycle would start again.

Y/N knew it was pathetic taking him back over and over again knowing he would disappoint her each time. 

To be honest, Y/N felt nothing but pity for the girl she’d been back then.

The final straw had been her fiance fucking someone who Y/N had regarded as being her best friend in their bed. 

Y/N had walked in on it and that had been enough to end the cycle.

She’d taken off to the safety she knew her half sister could provide her in hopes that her heart would mend itself in a new environment.

She’d not been anticipating finding love. Love had been the last thing on Y/N’s mind.

Chibs Telford had not been looking for love either, so imagine his shock when he’d entered the clubhouse and spotted the pretty young woman playing red hands with Kenny Winston. 

He had gotten the strangest sense of fondness as he observed the young woman yank her hands back just in time to avoid having them slapped by the youngest Winston boy before Piper Dovorack had taken Kenny’s place proving that he did not have as quick of reflexes as his aunt.

Chibs had barely had a chance to question her presence as Lyla and Opie had entered the room making the introductions for him. 

Chibs was surprised to admit that he’d felt the strangest sense of relief at the realization that Auntie Y/N was not just here to help Lyla prepare for her wedding to Opie the next year, but was here to stay as she’d signed the lease on an apartment and had taken a job at a salon in town.

He knew he’d have to be blind not to admit that she was an attractive young woman. He had spotted an attractive figure even if she’d been wearing dark denim overalls and converse over a tight little tank top given that she’d dressed for comfort due to the fact that she’d spent her morning moving into her new apartment. She’d not been wearing a spot of makeup but he’d found she had an attractive complexion that showed a few signs of freckling due to too much sun. Her hair had looked soft and her skin had seemed as though it would feel pleasant under his touch. 

He’d felt foolish for admiring her as much as he had. He had a feeling Lyla would be displeased that he had been thinking about how soft and perfect her little sister would feel under his body. 

He’d been unaware that Y/N had found the older Scotsman appealing. He was not like any man she might have previously found alluring. She wanted to blame the accent, but she had to admit that he was charming. It was in the way he’d shaken her hand upon their introduction. A voice in the back of her head had insisted that it was obvious by the way he’d held her hand that he knew how to treat a lady. She’d found that he had a nice smile and kind eyes. 

She’d of course noticed the scars along his cheeks but had found that she could not find them to be evidence of danger. If anything it was a sign that he’d been at the receiving end of cruelty and she felt that she would be callous to make any judgment based on a past injury. 

A voice in the back of her head had told her that she might be kind of screwed when it came to a guy as appealing as Chibs.

The feeling had only grown when she’d realized how good Chibs was with the Teller and Winston children as well as her nephew Piper. There was something quite alluring about a guy who was good with kids. He was willing to goof off with them and show them affection and it was adorable.

Y/N’s trips to the clubhouse had become a little more frequent than she anticipated, especially once Gemma had taken a liking to her partially due to Y/N’s willingness to take Gemma on as a hair client and maintain Gemma’s highlights for a cheaper rate than she’d been getting at her previous salon.

It had also helped that Y/N had provided Abel Teller with his first haircut which had made Tara fond of her. Her willingness to trim hair for any Sons who might show interest had endeared her to the MC.

When Lyla visited the clubhouse, Y/N always followed. Soon enough Y/N had received invites without Lyla being included.

Chibs had told himself that he didn’t have time to focus on Y/N’s visits to the clubhouse.

Soon after the Sons' return from Belfast Ireland, the majority of the MC had been arrested and placed serving a 14 month sentence out in Stockton.

Chibs, Opie, Kozik, Piney, and a few prospects had been left to keep the club afloat. 

He’d told himself that any strange sense of fondness he felt for Lyla’s little sister was only a distraction from his responsibilities to the Sons.

He had to admit she was a glorious distraction though. He found her to be pleasant to look at and even more pleasurable to speak to. He’d found that he  maybe went out of his way to chat with her and flirt more than a little when she was around.

Much to his annoyance he was not the only one who found her to be a pleasant distraction. He’d noticed the heart eyes that Kozik and a few of the prospects had sent her way.

A couple of the non-patched club hang-arounds had also taken notice of Lyla’s pretty sister.

When one club hangaround had trapped Y/N in a conversation during a Friday night party, Chibs had swooped in and saved her from the conversation by insisting he had something to show her in the garage.

He’d had to present that something he wanted to show her as an innocent invitation to share a joint on the roof of TM Auto. To his relief, if she'd sensed he was jealous about the attention she’d been receiving from the men around the club, she had not called him out on it.

She’d maybe spilled her heart to him on that roof, opening up about the reason she’d moved from Santa Monica, the joint making her feel relaxed enough to be blunt. “Nothing prepared me for coming home to the man I intended to marry only to find my best friend riding him out in our bed. I knew something was going on between them with all the time they seemed to be spending together, but I was naive enough to hope that they’d just been trying to get along for my sake. I always thought they hated each other and were trying to get along because I’d assumed they both cared about me. They proved to me that they fucking got along alright. They’d been fucking behind my back for months. I wanted to drag the bitch off his dick by her hair. I wish I had yanked her out of bed and beat her face in.”

“What’d ye do?” Chibs had dared to ask, surprised to find that he felt a sense of hurt for Y/N as he listened to the story. He did not miss the pain in her voice. The thought of her feeling betrayed by two people she had loved bothered him.

“I just threw my engagement ring at them…and screamed…there was a lot of screaming.” She remarked, rolling her eyes.

She paused, shaking her head taking another deep hit off the joint before passing it back to him. “If I could go back, I would have at least trashed some of his things…maybe I would have scratched those stupid pans he’d never let me use…He was a chef, my ex fiance. He was really paranoid about me touching anything he bought for the kitchen. I should have taken a freaking SOS pad to those stupid pans and stolen some of his knives or something.  I was too hurt to be vengeful at the moment.”

“Aye, fer what its worth he probably wasn’t worth the energy. The real punishment is him losin a lass like ye.” Chibs blurted out the words leaving his lips before he could stop them.

The reaction she’d given him made his heart skip a beat. She’d leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, her voice soft. “You’re a sweet man, Chibs Telford.”

“Filip, Love.” He blurted out thankful it was dark enough that she could not see the flush to his cheeks.

“Filip?” She dared to ask, he nodding his head the words leaving him.

“Aye, That’s my name…Ye can call me that if ye want.”

And she had taken his invitation to call him Filip not noticing the teasing comments it had earned him from his brothers who had overheard it nor the raised eyebrow from Gemma, Tara, and Lyla.

Chibs had wanted to make his move on Y/N more times than he could count but a voice in the back of his head told him that she was fragile due to how her last relationship had ended.

He’d told himself that he was in a fragile place as well. Fiona had just a month prior sent him a request for divorce proving that even with Jimmy O’ out of the picture that their marriage had no chance of continuing.

He’d signed the papers willingly but it had still been an upsetting end to a chapter of his life. 

He’d told himself that Y/N and he were both vulnerable and starting anything up with one another would be ruinous for them both.

The chance to challenge that decision had come when Lyla had shown up to TM Auto looking pissed off, the words leaving her lips as she stared up at Opie. “My sister’s fucking ex fiance showed up last night. She slammed the door in his face but he won’t get the clue. He’s practically harassing her at this point. She needs some back up.”

She’d barely had the chance to say the words before Chibs had been taking off towards his bike the words leaving him. “Where is he?”

Opie had followed Chibs, ignoring the exchanged glances among their brothers over Chibs eagerness to jump into action at the mere mention of Y/N being harassed by her ex.

When Chibs and Opie arrived at Y/N’s place they’d found her ex holding her wrist all too tightly, the pair clearly arguing as she struggled against the man’s hold.

Chibs had acted fast, stepping forward his voice holding a dangerous edge. “Ye best back off her, Lad.”

Y/N’s ex had stared up at Chibs and the kutte on his back, his eyes widening just the slightest at least smart enough to sense danger. He spoke trying to sound more confident than he felt. “This is between my fiancée and me.”

“Ex fiancée. I’m only sayin it one more time, Ye let go of her and get the fuck outta her life.” Chibs growled, stepping closer.

Her ex had proven that perhaps he was not as bright as he should have been because he released Y/N squaring up to Chibs forming fists. “Are you going to make me leave, Scotty?”

“Aye, I am.” Chibs had snapped, throwing a punch before her ex even had a chance to act.

There had been a few thrown fists and some chaos as the two men decided to have a full blown fist fight.

Y/N had done her best to verbally break up the fight but Opie had stepped in physically breaking up the fight. 

In the end, her ex fiance had been beaten down and freaked out enough to leave her apartment. Opie had followed to make sure that the guy left and stayed gone.

Chibs had wound up with Y/N pressing a bag of frozen peas to his swollen eye while forcing him to hold a bag of carrots to his knuckles. She had scolded him as she assessed his injuries.

He could still remember her words. “That was a horrible idea, Filip. How do you know my ex isn’t going to call the cops? Noah is a sore loser. He’s competitive. It’s stupid how competitive he can get. He doesn’t like losing. He wouldn’t even let me win at Monopoly. He has this stupid male pride that he refuses to set down for even a second. You beating the crap out of him is most likely just going to make him more determined to win me back because he can’t stand the idea of losing. If he calls the cops what are you going to do, huh? The last thing you guys need is another member of the MC getting in trouble with the cops. How could you do something so impulsive and dangerous and so fucking sweet?”

He’d decided that the best way to end the browbeating she was giving him was by leaning in his lips pressing to her’s, his voice sounding so certain. “I’m only sweet fer ye, Love. I think yer well worth the arrest risk.”

As soon as his lips had met hers she had returned the kiss the bags of frozen veggies easily forgotten.

The kiss should have been the step they needed to take to get together but his cell phone ringing had broken the spell they’d been under.

It had been club business of course.

As soon as the call had ended Chibs’ logic had kicked his romantic heart to the ground, a voice in the back of his head reminding him that Y/N was too vulnerable to fall into this with him. He was not going to use her as some rebound.

He was a criminal and he would bring her nothing but heartache, the voice had insisted. He was not the kind of guy who she needed to put her heart back together. 

He’d barely said goodbye leaving her apartment only blurting out something about the club needing him.

He’d ignored her after that. He’d ignored her for a month and it had broken both their hearts.

The invite from Lyla to another Friday night party had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

Chibs had thrown himself into croweaters as an attempt to shut his stupid heart up over the subject of Y/N. It had not been working. Every woman he took to bed was compared to what he told himself he could have with Y/N. The croweaters paled in comparison to the wonders of Y/N. 

The sight of Y/N walking into the clubhouse with Lyla had been a bittersweet sight for Chibs Telford. Y/N had been wearing a little black mini skirt that made her legs look glorious and he’d wanted to go right over to her and drop down to his knees while begging her to give him a second chance.

Chibs Telford was a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be though. He’d pulled a blonde croweater with impressive implants into his lap and pretended that he didn’t notice the hurt in Y/N’s features.

She’d told herself she was stupid for feeling hurt over him. Chibs Telford was just a man; a stupid attractive man with an accent she found comforting and a touch that made her heart do funny things. He was a man she’d felt so protected with. He was a man who had listened to her spill her heart about her ex over a shared joint. He was the man who made the prospects and club hang-arounds back off when they were getting too enthusiastic and obnoxious with attempts to hit on her. He was a man who made her laugh and was wonderful with her nephew and soon to be step niece and nephew. He was a man who she had previously viewed as being the sweetest man she’d ever met.

She didn’t know what asshole had body-snatched Chibs Telford, because his behavior over the last month had proven to her that he was not a sweet man.

She told herself she should not be surprised that Chibs had turned out to be less than what she’d hoped for. Chibs Telford was just another disappointment for her.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had hurt her. She had welcomed Kozik when the blonde Son had taken a seat by her at the bar and had struck up a conversation with her.

She’d given him a tired smile between sips of her whiskey and cola as he leaned in and spoke to her. “You’ve not been around much lately. It feels like I haven’t seen you in weeks now. Are you okay? I hope I’m not overstepping by commenting that you seem sad”.

“You aren’t overstepping. I am sad.” She commented, shrugging her shoulders, hating that she couldn't resist glancing Chibs’ way. 

She felt her heart twist unable to ignore that he now had a croweater on either side of him, his hands roaming their bodies, both women stroking his hair and his thighs clearly giving him the attention he wanted. The sight made her feel nauseated. 

Kozik caught her line of sight, moving between Chibs and her, as he spoke. “I guess that’s what’s been keeping you away…I figured as much. I’ve noticed he’s been weird lately, avoiding you. Anytime he hears you’re around, he disappears…if it's any comfort, Chibs is kind of an idiot. Not even kind of one, he’s a moron. I don’t think he’s worth the heartache, Babe. I know I have the reputation for not being the brightest guy around here or at least according to Tig I’m kind of a dumbass, but even I can see that Chibs has been a real dick to you for about a month now. He’s not worth feeling sad over if he is comfortable making you feel this awful.”

“You aren’t dumb, Kozik. I’m sure you’re right. I think I just got my hopes up with him. Isn’t the first time I got my heart set on some asshole and it probably won’t be the last time.” She commented having to admit that Herman Kozik’s words were comforting even if she was not entirely sure her heart wanted to believe that Chibs was a totally irredeemable asshole.

Kozik spoke nodding down to her almost empty drink. “Let me get you another.”

He waved at the croweater behind the bar who happily provided her with an overfilled glass. Kozik spoke again, his voice picking up a hint of confidence. “I promise I’m not trying to swoop in while you’re vulnerable, but I can promise you that not all guys in a kutte are total assholes. I think I’m a pretty good example, not to toot my own horn. Trust me, Babe. Maybe Chibsy just wasn’t man enough to admit that you’re a catch, but his loss could be my gain. No pressure, just saying, you’re a real great girl and I wouldn’t kick you out of bed for eating crackers.”

She was surprised by the laugh that left her, it felt good to at least know she was desirable.

Chibs’ clear rejection of her had wounded her ego. It had been bad enough that he’d been ignoring her after that shared kiss at her apartment. It had only felt worse to realize that he didn’t even have the balls to reject her verbally. 

He dodged her phone calls and disappeared the second she showed up at the clubhouse. She’d not missed how he’d seemed to have a croweater around more often than not the few times she’d dared to show up to a Friday night bash with Lyla.

She had thought about confronting him over what an absolute asshole he was being. She was not going to chase a man who didn’t want her though. She was done chasing men who didn’t appreciate her. 

It would be one thing if he told her the kiss had been a mistake and he wasn't into her. 

It felt worse to have him just treat her like she’d never been important at all. 

She had begun to question if there was something wrong with her. There had to be something fundamentally wrong with her if every man she attracted proved that he did not want her and preferred the company of other women.

She did not notice Chibs’ eyes on her as Kozik leaned in closer, the blonde reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she replied to the comment. “You seem like an alright guy, Herman.”

“Ouch, just alright, and Herman? Two blows in one compliment.” He was quick to remark the statement, working another laugh from her, making Chibs blood boil.

She rolled her eyes, the smile still on her lips as she spoke. “Hey, it is your name. For the record, I don’t think you’re swooping in. Maybe you have a point. His loss might be your gain. We might have to test the theory.”

A few of the drunker party goers had decided to take advantage of the low eighties love ballad playing over the jukebox in the corner of the clubhouse and dance.

Kozik saw an opportunity, he quick to speak. “Oh, I’d like to test it out, Even if I’m only alright? Do you think you might be willing to humor Alright Herman with one dance? You know, soothe my bruised ego?”

She found that she was caring less about Chibs and his croweater friends as she took Kozik’s hand allowing him to pull her over to join the other drunk slow dancers.

Chibs watched his blood boiling over as he watched Kozik pull Y/N close, his arms wrapping around her resting against the small of her back. He watched Y/N hold on to the man, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

They were pressed so close to one another and the sight made Chibs want to vomit.

He watched them sway they carrying on a low conversation that seemed to be working the occasional smile and laughter from Y/N.

A voice in the back of Chibs’ head told him that he had no one to blame but himself. He had pushed her away and straight into the arms of another man. He made his bed and had to lie in it now.

He felt a louder stubborn voice speak up insisting that no he did not have to lie back and accept the misery.

He had to fix this. He had to at least try to fix it.

He shoved the croweaters off him feeling disgusted that he’d let this go on for so long now. He was deluding himself into thinking he could fall back into encounters with croweaters as though it would silence his heart. His heart wanted what it wanted and he was just breaking it by denying it what it desired. 

He held his head up high making his way over to the couple clearing his throat louder than necessary.

Y/N gazed up at him, sending him a look that he was certain could kill him if such a thing were possible. She spoke disdain for him clear in her voice. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to ye.” Chibs blurted out cringing at the comment knowing that this was not the best way to broach this subject.

She rolled her eyes quick to respond, the hurt evident in her voice. “I’m busy, Chibs. You seemed like you were pretty busy too. You should get back to the croweaters before someone scoops them up. Make sure you use protection. There’s a strain of gonorrhea out there that’s antibiotic resistant. You might be an asshole but I wouldn’t wish an untreatable STD on even you. ”

Chibs grimaced at the comment part of him wanting to give up and admit defeat. He’d fucked it all up and she had no interest in him fixing anything.

He held back the desire to give up though telling himself that he had to man up and do what he should have done that day they’d kissed at her apartment. “I might be an arse, but I wanta explain myself, Love. Can ye give me the chance to at least do that. If ye still hate my guts after I talk to ye in private, then ye can come back in here and I’ll leave ye alone forever.”

She sighed surprised as Kozik pulled back from her the blonde looking just as defeated as Chibs seemed to feel. It seemed that the blonde Son knew he was attempting to woo a woman who belonged to someone else even if she was pissed at that someone else. “I’ll still be here, if you decide you hate him. I don’t want to stand in the way of anything. I’ll give you guys a moment.”

She sighed wanting to snap that she was sick of men telling her what to do. She wanted to snap at Kozik that he was betraying her by leaving her to talk to Chibs.

She scoffed, crossing her arms as she turned to head to the club’s entrance. She called out behind her, her voice annoyed. “Come on, Dumbass.”

Kozik and Chibs exchanged a glance neither sure who she was speaking to. With as pissed off as she seemed it could be either one of them. She rolled her eyes as she clarified. “Are we talking or not you Scottish idiot.”

Chibs stepped forward, his heart racing as he struggled to comprehend everything he wanted to say.

They’d made their way out to the cool night air settling against some picnic table as Chibs had spoken. “I know I hurt ye.”

“No shit.” She snapped, he cringing at the comment as she took a seat at the picnic table shivering in the cooler temperature. She should have brought a jacket.

He spoke again, a heavy sigh leaving him. “Ye seemed vulnerable, Lass and then there I was swooping in kissin ye.”

“I kissed you back. I felt far from vulnerable.” She remarked running her hands through her hair frustrated by the comment. Did he really think he was protecting her?

“Aye ye did. Didn’t mean I wouldn’t ruin ye though.” He remarked sitting down on the picnic table beside her thankful she didn’t shove him away.

She gazed over at him, confusion joining her irritation. “What do you mean by that?”

“I jus got divorced, Love. Ye jus ended a long term engagement. I was afraid we were seekin out a rebound in each other…and I ain’ the kinda guy ye should be reboundin with. Guys like me aint good at mending hearts. Figured we’d just break each others hearts all the more.” He explained as though it was the most obvious thing on the entire planet.

She rolled her eyes fast to challenge the statement. “It wasn’t a rebound for me, Chibs. I can’t speak for you, but I didn’t kiss you because I was looking for anyone to fill a hole in me that my ex left. I kissed you because I really like…I liked you, I really liked you. You were sweet and I felt nice around you. I felt protected when you were around. You made me smile. You were good to my nephew and my soon to be step niece and nephew. You are good to my sister, you treat her like family. I liked how good you are to the people you love. I liked the way you spoke about your daughter…how much you love her. You have a good heart. I kissed you because I had hoped I had a place in that good heart of yours.”

He felt his heart ache at the words a cruel voice in the back of his head taunting him with how badly he’d fucked things up the night they’d kissed. He sighed, his throat growing tight. “I’m a criminal, Lass. Pretty sure yer smart enough to put the dots together…ye have to know Lyla is marryin Opie and marryin into an outlaw club…I guess I told myself that even if it wasn’t a rebound that I thought ye deserved more than an outlaw biker.”

“That’s bullshit. If I deserve more then that means my sister deserves more. I’m not going to sit back and let anyone tell me that my sister and I are settling on less than we deserve. I am a grown woman, Filip. I don’t need any man telling me what I deserve or don’t deserve. I am capable of making that choice on my own.” She scolded him, her voice holding a hint of venom.

He felt his shoulders sink at her words having the sense to at least appear as admonished as he felt. 

He let out a shaky sigh spilling his heart to her all the more. “I know I made that choice fer ye and it wasn’t fair. I disappeared on ye…I threw myself into tryin to distract myself…let the club whores distract my heart from what I wanted. I never claimed to be a smart lad or at least one that aint prone to self sabotage. I really like ye, Love. All this fuckin distraction with the croweaters, it aint workin…It jus makes me feel more wretched. I know I’m hurtin ye and I feel like shite fer it. All my heart screams it wants is ye…and I royally fucked that one up. If I could take it back I would. I wish I could go back a month ago and ask ye out on a proper date…make it clear I wanted more than jus a kiss.”

“You can’t take it back.” She remarked her voice soft the words making his heart crack all the more.

He told himself that this was it. She was going to walk away from him. She was probably going to choose Kozik. The man was sweet on her. She was going to go with the Son who was sweet on her and leave the one who had hurt her in her dust. Chibs knew that he would have no one to blame but himself for losing her. He told himself he would have to sit back and watch his brother have what he had lost. 

She spoke again, taking him by shock. “Just because you can’t take it back, doesn’t mean you can’t repair it.”

She paused, spotting the look of astonishment on his face as he hoped against hope that she was going to give him a shot to make this right. 

She spoke, giving him hope. “This might be something I regret…don’t make me regret it, Filip. I like you…I still like you even if I’m really angry with you at the moment. I can’t tell my heart who to give love to though. Hearts are dumb like that. I am not saying that we’re going to be picking up where we left off…I am willing to let you try to win me over, just…just don’t make me regret this Filip. Don’t disappear on me again. Just be the man I thought you were; be the sweet guy who is willing to punch out my ex and the guy who kissed me like I was the most delicate thing on the planet. Be that guy.”

He reached out his hand grasping over hers the words leaving him. “Aint goin to make ye regret it, Love. I am goin to try so hard to be the lad ye hoped I was. I will do anything it takes.”

The soft kiss she’d pressed to his cheek had soothed his heart, promising himself to keep true to the words he’d said.

He had proven himself time and time again. He had proven he was the man she wanted him to be.

Soon after Opie and Lyla had married Chibs had enlisted Happy to tattoo a crow onto Y/N’s right wrist showing the world just who she was to him.

After a little over a year of dating and a choice to move in together, Chibs had given Y/N another token proving what she was to him.

The engagement ring was a delicate diamond on a silver band and it had been slipped on her finger with a nervous proposal from him and an enthusiastic yes from Y/N.

Y/N was pleased to say she’d found love with Chibs Telford. Her current fiance was a thousand steps above her ex-fiance.

Chibs Telford had proven to her that he not only respected her but he did not take any love she gave him for granted.

The affection and devotion she felt for Chibs had made the run Chibs had left for a week ago feel all the more soul crushing.

Y/N missed her fiance. She missed everything about him from the way his voice sounded, to the way he smelled, to the way his touch felt.

Her heart ached for him.

Her heart was not the only thing aching at the moment.

She was pleased to say that Chibs Telford was a phenomenal lover. She’d never been so sexually fulfilled in her entire life.

She had always been shy about sex, but Chibs had helped her leave her comfort zone.

The amount of toys they had in their nightstand in their bedroom proved that she had left her comfort zone.

One of those toys was currently sitting beside her on the sofa in the living room as she debated if she should settle on touching herself to mildly satisfy the sexual tension coursing through her or if she should just take a cold shower and forget it.

The toy was one of the very first toys Chibs had surprised her with. It was a simple vibrating wand.

He’d gotten it for her once she’d shyly admitted to him that she had never owned a vibrator of any shape or form. Her ex had viewed it as competition. 

Chibs had presented the toy to her, the words that left his lips sounding far too cheeky “I see it as more of a tool at our disposal, Love. I know nothin compares to the real thing, but I want ye to find all the ways ye can feel good. I want us to find em together sometimes too.”

The wand had been used pretty frequently both with and without him present. 

Other toys had joined the mix; a rabbit vibrator, a pair of vibrating panties that had originally been bought as a joke that had found some use, a jeweled little plug that made her feel so full when he buried it in her backside and buried his cock in her pussy, a pair of nipple clamps that featured a clamp for her clit which Chibs had shown her could be a lot of fun when he flicked at one of the taunt chains, a pair of cuffed restraints they’d both been strapped to their bed with, and an innocent looking blindfold.

Needless to say, she was feeling far less bashful about sex at least in the privacy of Chibs’ and her bedroom.

She sighed staring down at the toy only knowing it made her think of all the other toys in their bedroom and all the things they’d done with those toys.

She could distinctly remember the latest toy Chibs had brought home with him; a spreader bar that held her thighs open leaving her spread and presented for him even when he overstimulated her.

She moaned at the thought of him over stimulating her. The man would edge her with the vibrating wand for what seemed like way too long before finally giving her what she wanted. Once he gave her what she wanted though he would overdo it making her cum over and over again until she had more than enough.

He felt her clit throb at the memory of the last sexual encounter they’d had before he had to leave for a run to the Salt Lake charter.

They’d laid back in bed, his fingers buried in her crooked just enough to hit her gspot so perfectly over and over again. She had squirted. It was the first time she had ever done such a thing and he’d been far too smug even when he’d had to explain to her and reassure her about what had just happened.

She had been mortified sure she had wet herself and he’d proudly explained to her what he’d just managed to do to her.

Though her sister was very much involved in the adult industry, Y/N could admit she was a little more innocent when it came to that type of thing.

It wasn’t as though Lyla and she discussed Lyla’s job. Y/N actually tended to be pretty shy and naive when it came to certain sexual acts. She’d always felt nervous in bed and her past partners had not encouraged her to step out of her comfort zone.

So, she would absolutely be the first to admit she was pretty innocent when it came to several sexual acts and the possibilities available to her in the bedroom. 

It was something Chibs had found he viewed as adorable and alluring. He liked corrupting her just the slightest. He had shown her so many things about her body and what it was capable of and she adored him for it.

She sighed, pulling her damp panties from her body allowing them to drop to the floor beside her and yanking Chibs’ t-shirt over her head.

She dropped it by the panties running her hands along her body. She sighed, sinking into lust.

She imagined Chibs being here with her in the moment and pictured his low Scottish brogue praising her for being so good for him.

He remembered all the filthy things he whispered to her trying to make her blush “fuck that’s it, that’s my good girl.” “Look at ye, that’s my little slut.” “Gorgeous Lass, takin my cock like its all yer made fer.”

She ran a hand down her body sliding her fingers between her slit moaning at how soaked she already was. Her head fell back, her eyes closing as she sunk further into fantasy.

She thought of him kneeling between her thighs staring up at her as he ate her pussy like it was his last meal. The man had a gifted tongue and fingers. His lips were just as gifted too. He made eating her out a full mouth and finger affair. He didn’t care how messy it got or how much he moaned against her clit. He would practically rub his face against her center as he lapped at her eagerly. He never minded how drenched she’d get, seeing it as a reward for how good he was doing.

She blindly reached for her toy flipping it on its lowest setting running it along her breasts, her nipples standing at attention.

She remembered the last time he’d used the nipple clamps on her and the proud smirk on his lips as the buds of her nipples stood at full attention. He’d enjoyed the squeal that left her as he tugged at the chain connecting the clamps praising her for how gorgeous she looked.

She ran the toy down her body pressing it against her clit, taking it away just as quick it almost too much. She whined, tempted to go get her vibrator and ride that instead but decided the wand would have to do at the moment.

She felt so worked up she had the slightest feeling that any tiny hint of stimulation would get her there. 

She ran the toy back along her clit sliding it up and down it and along her wet slit a gasp leaving her his name clear on her lips. “Filip, Baby, oh fuck.”

She whined, keeping up the stimulation turning up the toy once she got comfortable enough with the current setting for it to no longer feel as good as she wanted.

She moaned, focusing more on her clit, the words leaving her, her mind only on one man and the thought of him inside of her making her feel good. “Filip, fuck yes. Your cock is so fucking good, so fucking big, yes, Baby.”

She toyed with her nipple tugging it with her free hand imagining his teeth and lips locked around her breast tugging at the nipple. 

“Filip, Baby, please. Oh my God, Filip. Fuck me.”

The voice that sounded out took her by shock, the toy falling from her grasp, her head shooting up and her eyes popping open. “Fuck, Lass. This is a fuckin beautiful welcome home.”

She stared up at her fiance, her cheeks flushed from more than arousal. 

“How long have you been standing there?” She sputtered out wanting to sink into the sofa cushions and disappear.

“Not long, long nough to hear ye praising how big my cock is though. Ye thinking bout me, Love? Ye playing and imagining me?” He asked in an amused tone mixed with a clear tone of arousal.

She spoke, deciding to be blunt despite any lingering embarrassment she might currently be feeling. “I've been horny all day, and I need you fix it"

“Ye have only been horny today, Love? I’ve been gone all week.” Chibs teased, unable to stop the groan from leaving his lips at her comment.

She gave him a smirk deciding to be a little bolder knowing it was not a lie. “Believe me, I’ve been aching for you all week. The second night you were gone, after we got off the phone, I took a bubble bath and played with myself under the running faucet. The night after I rode my vibrator while wearing one of your work shirts.”

“Fuck, Love. Ye didn’t call me durin this? I woulda given ye some encouragement and let ye know just how much I was humpin my hand over ye.” he exclaimed easily imagining all the scenarios she was describing to him.

She spoke spreading her legs further for him running her hands along her thighs teasingly as she spoke. “You didn’t find relief anywhere but your own hand?”

“Fuck no, Love. Ye know we have a policy of our own fer when I’m on runs.” He remarked her body and heart aching for him all the more.

She knew some ol ladies followed a what happens on runs stays on runs policy. That mindset did not work for Y/N and Chibs though. She had made it clear to him that her body was the only one he was allowed to find release in. If he strayed on a run, she was gone. Infidelity was unacceptable to her.

He’d been quick to reassure her that he had zero intention of finding release with anyone but her. He knew her past with unfaithful romantic partners. He was not about to make her experience that heartache again. He only had eyes for her and was not ashamed to admit it.

She spoke, her hands running up her body along her breasts, Chibs watching with parted lips he resisting the urge to lunge for her just yet. She spoke her voice needy. “I missed you so much, Filip. The toys are fun, but you’re better.”

“Aye, yer so much better than my hand Love.” He insisted his cock straining against his jeans all the more.

He’d been rock hard from the second he’d walked through the front door and found his fiancee playing with herself on the sofa moaning his name. It was not the welcome home he’d been anticipating but it was incredible all the same.

She spoke needing to say the words. “I need you right now, couch, kitchen floor, anywhere, just take me now."

With that he lunged towards her, dropping down to his knees, his lips meeting hers. He moved down her body at a record pace pressing open mouthed kisses to her skin praises and words of adoration leaving him.

He reached her bare center, his face burying against her pussy a pleased moan leaving him.

He stroked her slit with his tongue reaching up to spread her lips before diving in. He lapped at her with enthusiasm proving that there would be no slow work up or teasing on his end. He was determined to make her cum.

She whined his name, her hand pressing to the back of his head keeping him in place though it was clear he had zero intention on moving from her pussy.

His fingers pressed into her core, two and then three at a time, he thrusting them as he focused on her clit. He pulled his face from her pussy continuing to finger her as he spoke. “Fuck, yer so soaked. How worked up were ye, Love?”

“So bad, Filip. Been thinking about you all day. I missed you so much. Stupid Salt Lake taking you away.” She whined, the latter comment working a chuckle from him.

“Aye sorry, Lass. Some lads in the fuckin Salt Lake charter needed some straighten out it was makin shite tense between em and a few other charters. Clay wasn’t goin to let me stay home.” Chibs remarked a groan leaving her as she spoke. 

“You can talk club business later, Filip. Please don’t mention Clay or the Irish or any of that crap while your fingers are buried in my cunt.” 

He snickered at the comment nodding his head. “Aye fair nough.”

He reached down grabbing her forgotten toy, a smirk crossing his features. “Remember how fuckin shy yer were when I brought this home. Had to show ye how to use it to make ye feel good, had to encourage ye to get yerself off. Ye would start feelin so good and then ye’d get all shy and back off. Had to tell ye how fuckin stunning ye look when yer making that pussy feel good. Never thought I’d walk in ye playin with yourself so proud moanin my name.”

“I was thinking about what we did before you left. How dirty and good it felt.” She moaned, Chibs rewarding her with a nip to her thigh.

“Aye, it was so fuckin filthy, and ye loved it. Ye come such a long way from the firs time I had ye, Love. Ye look so innocent and sweet but we both know ye love all the shite I taught ye. Ye even learned a few things all on yer own, aye?”

She nodded her head frantically not helping but to feel herself preen at the praise in his voice over how much she’d figured out about her body all on her own. 

“I have, I figured out so many ways to feel good, Filip. Never felt so good in my life.” The comment earned another nip to her thigh followed by murmured words of love. 

He spoke, removing his fingers making her whine. “Relax, Love. Jus gonna play a wee bit. Then ye can have what ye really want.”

She didn’t have time to beg him to give her what he was promising right this instant as he pressed the vibrating wand directly against her clit, turning it up.

The action caused her hips to jolt forward, her head falling back a moan leaving her. He spoke, a smirk crossing his features. “Shite, look at ye. Such a sensitive clit, always forget how sensitive the wee bud is.”

She whined wanting to point out that she highly doubted he forgot. She couldn’t work out the words though he rubbing the toy across her clit in a circular pattern making her moan all the louder.

She ran her hands along her breasts tugging at her nipples, an approving groan leaving him “Shite, Love. Those perfect tits. Dreamed bout those tits on a nightly basis while I was in Utah.”

She gasped as he continued to toy with her his name sputtering from her lips. She may have been good with her toy, but Chibs was a master with it.

She pulled her hands from her breasts reaching out blindly wanting some contact with him. He reached up, with the hand that was not currently occupied, allowing her to lace her fingers with his.

He pressed kisses against her thigh as he continued to toy with her whispering words of praise to her perfect, stunning, hot, wet, incredible. 

She moaned, the heat beginning to build in her knowing she was risking cumming from this so quick. She had been so worked up and the toy was turned up so high, so much higher than she’d dare to ever turn it up. Chibs apparently sensed it he turning up the toy all the higher, his voice filled with praise. “Yer fuckin gorgeous Mo luaidh. Come on, cum on this toy and I’ll give ye my cock.”

She whined the words egging her on he not letting up turning the toy up to its highest setting her thighs quivering the coil that had been tightening up in her absolutely breaking as she fell apart against the vibrating wand.

She cried out as she came Chibs moaning at the sight wanting to commit it to memory. Her hips rocked against the toy eagerly, her thighs trying to squeeze together he keeping a hand on her thigh keeping her legs parted as he navigated the toy through her orgasm.

She whimpered struggling to pull back from him as she came down from her orgasm and the sensations became uncomfortable.

He pulled the toy back flipping it off a proud smile crossing his features at the sight of her slumped back against the couch, her body damp with sweat and flushed from arousal.

He took her by surprise as he spoke, giving her thigh a playful smack. “Turn round, Lass. On yer knees love, rest yer top half on the cushion.”

She moved her body feeling wobbly, her center aching for whatever he was about to give her even if she’d already cum once already.

She did as he instructed he rewarding her with a playful smack to her backside the act working a moan from her lips. He groaned, giving her bottom another smack to the other cheek his voice teasing. “Naughty Love. Shite, yer so ready to take anything I’ll give ye, Aye?”

“Uh huh.” She remarked knowing she was too fucked out and needy to form a more eloquent reply.

He leaned down, angling his body unable to stop himself from licking a long stripe up her pussy it looking so plump and inviting from this angle.

She gasped his name leaving her lips he speaking praising her. “Such a fuckin wet pussy.”

“Just for you.” She whined the comment earning her another smack to the backside.

He worked quick resting on his knees behind her, he losing his clothing. He stripped his kutte and shirt from his body, tossing the kutte onto a recliner by the sofa and letting the shirt fall to the floor along with his weapons.

He managed to kick his shoes off the action clumsy but she thankfully remained bent over the sofa unable to see how much he lacked grace in his movements.

He reached down, unfastening his belt and unzipping his jeans. He kicked them from his body allowing his boxers to follow along behind them.

He rested against his knees again taking himself in hand running his cock along her center coating himself in her wetness. 

A needy moan left the both of them at the action they both practically shaking with desire.

Chibs managed to speak as he positioned himself at her center gazing down at where their bodies were about to connect. “I love ye.”

“Love you too Filip, so much.” She gasped not having a chance to elaborate more as he pushed forward her hot wet center enveloping his hard cock.

He groaned as he entered her inch by inch his movements torturous, she resisting the urge to back up against him and push him along. 

She had a feeling such a movement would earn her a smack to her backside. She knew he intended her to feel every inch of him as he slid home.

He had missed her and wanted to appreciate the sensation of sliding into her warm body after a week without this.

He grunted as he finally thrust up to the hilt, her body feeling heavenly around his aching cock. She was dripping wet and she was so hot and silken around him that he almost wanted to cry.

He placed his hands on her hips giving himself leverage as he began to rock in and out of her finding a slow sensual pace making sure she felt every inch of him as his cock moved within her.

She whined digging her fingers into the couch cushions, his name spilling from her lips like a prayer.

He spoke his voice gruff as he soaked up the sensations of her. “Jeysus, Love. Missed ye so much. Yer all I fuckin thought bout when I wasn’t doin club shite.”

“Missed you so much, Filip. Love you.” She managed to gasp the comment earning her a moan and a I love you in return.

She rocked back against him the sound of his skin meeting hers mixing with soft moans and praises from him. 

She soaked up his praise, the words washing over her like a caress: gorgeous, mine, my love, perfect pussy, best thing that ever happened to me.

She whined wanting to insist it was him who was the best thing that had ever happened to her, but the feel of him inside of her practically took her breath away. She had zero idea how one man could be so incredible in bed, though she knew he had plenty of experience under his belt.

The thought did not fill her with jealousy. She knew she was the only one who he took to bed nowadays. The thought made her feel cherished and adored.

She knew that no man had ever loved her as deeply as Chibs Telford. He made sure she was aware of this sensation of being loved each and every day.

He groaned the adoration he felt for her making itself known. “Oh, Love. So fuckin good to be home. One week was one fuckin week too long. Missed this pussy.”

“Just my pussy?” She teased the comment earning a smack to her backside, the sensation of pain mixing wonderfully with the pleasure coursing through her center.

“Missed all ye, Lass. Missed holdin ye at night. Missed kissing ye. Missed havin ye on my bike. Missed hearin ye laugh. Missed every fuckin thing bout ye.” He moaned his fingers digging into her hips as she rocked back against him all the more enthusiastically.

He rocked back against her picking up his pace the words leaving him. “Gonna fuckin make ye my wife soon. Shite, Love. Then I’m gonna fuckin miss my wee wife everytime I gotta leave fer a fuckin run.”

“Gonna miss my husband.” She gasped the comment, working a quicker pace from him, the words making him groan.

He snapped his hips against hers all the quicker his movements getting rougher the need he felt for her taking over the desire to enjoy the sensation of being inside of her.

She reached down finding her clit the action making the sensations washing over all the more intense.

He groaned as it hit him what she was doing, his hips speeding up at an even rougher pace. “Fuck yes, Love. So fuckin clever making yerself feel good on this cock.”

She whined at the praise she working her clit all the more enthusiastically knowing just how to move herself along closer to release.

She whimpered her toes curling at the pleasure coursing through her the mix of his cock sliding in and out of her at a more brutal pace and her fingers on her clit almost too much. 

She could feel her end building up in her once again that coil tightening inside of her threatening to snap at any second.

He spoke encouraging her able to sense just how close she seemed to be getting. “That’s my love. Shite, Mo luaidh. You gonna cum fer me? Aye, ye gonna show me jus how good I feel in ye?”

“Uh huh.” The words left her she once again too lost in lust to care if she sounded dense.

The orgasm hit her harder than she expected the waves of hot pleasure washing over her with incredible intensity, her center fluttering around his aching cock working praises from him.

She whined, falling limp against the sofa, her hand falling weakly from her clit as she shuddered from her release, she feeling like ragdoll at the moment.

Chibs took her by shock, pulling out of her a hiss leaving him as the cold air hit his cock.

He took her in his arms pulling her down to the floor, his lips pressing to hers.

He laid her back against the floor yanking a decorative pillow from the couch for her rest her head against. 

He positioned his cock at her entrance, his voice thick with lust. “Gonna fuckin cum fer me one more time, Love.”

She whimpered the words leaving her a whine escaping her. “I can’t, Filip.”

“Aye, ye can do it, Love. We’re gonna have a wee bit of help.” 

She furrowed her brow, lost as to what he meant by help but she got her answer as he reached out, finding the toy he’d already used on her pressing it between them.

She whined shuddering against him as he thrust his cock back home flipping the toy on making sure it was pressed against her clit.

She cried out the sensation so intense. She wrapped her arms around him digging her nails into his back wanting to reach for anything to steady her, as he began to thrust in her.

He grunted at how tremendously soaked she was and how he could feel the toy vibrating as he pressed his cock in her, the sensation feeling just as intense for him.

He spoke his voice gruff and demanding. “Yer gonna cum fer me one more time, Love. Yer gonna fuckin clench round this cock and let me fill ye up.”

“Filip.” She only managed to gasp, his demands making her clit throb her body promising she was going to give him exactly what he was requesting.

He spoke his words breaking he clearly struggling to hold out for her. “Fuck, Love. Is this what ye pictured while ye were…fuck…while ye touched that pussy…fuck, while I was gone, Aye? 

“Thought about how good you feel, thought about you taking me everywhere.” She gasped, causing him to nip at her neck.

“Everywhere, Love?”

She gasped, becoming too lost in pleasure to care if it was embarrassing. “At the clubhouse on the fucking pool table and at the bar, at the garage over the hood of a car, on your bike, fuck, in every room of this house in every position.”

“Fuck, Love.” Chibs groaned, turning up the wand all the higher causing her to cry out she knowing it would not be much longer.

She dug her nails into his back leaving scratch marks in her wake, her clit throbbing like a broken tooth against the toy her head falling back a cry leaving her.

He spoke encouraging her. “That’s it, Lass. Cum on this cock, Love. Ye look so fuckin gorgeous when ye feel good. Ye deserve to feel so good.”

The third orgasm of the night hit her like a brick to the head coming out of nowhere. It washed over with with intensity tears leaking from the corners of her eyes at how strong it felt.

The orgasm wracking through her frame was all it took for him to reach his own end his words filled with an equal mix of adoration and filth. “Fuck such a good girl takin my cum. Love ye, Lass. Shite. My perfect Love takin my cum fer me.”

His cock throbbed in her spurts of his release spilling into her with an magnitude that he was almost certain he’d not felt since his first few sexual encounters as a much younger man. 

He groaned against her his hips thrusting weakly as his release seeped from him in hot ropes making her whine her hands running up and down his back encouraging him as he found his release.

He felt himself relax against her his cock feeling spent and his body feeling heavy. She whined it taking him a moment to realize the toy was still buzzing away between their drained bodies.

He reached down whispering apologies and words of praise as he removed the toy flipping it off and tossing it aside.

She wrapped her arms around him, unwilling to have him pull from her just yet. Even as his cock softened and he slid from her his release seeping from her center, he refused to part from her just yet.

He rested against her she not caring if the weight of his body over hers was slightly heavy. She felt protected and adored in the moment.

He groaned, pressing his lips to her sweat damp skin whispering praises to her before she reluctantly allowed him to pull from her.

He rolled over onto his back not caring if the wood floor below them was hard and cold. He opened his arms for her, she cuddling up to him resting against his chest.

He ran a soothing hand up and down her back chuckling as he realized just how heavy her eyes were growing. “That’s my love, all fucked out jus the way I like er.”

“Missed you so much, Filip. Don’t leave again.” She murmured against his chest, sleep threatening to take over.

“Can’t not leave fer runs, Lass.” He responded, chuckling a bit at the low whine that left her and grumbles of it not being fair.

He pressed his lips to hers reassuring her. “Me leavin fer club shite jus means I get to come home to ye, Love. If ye keep welcomin me home like this then it’ll make me missin ye while I’m gone sting a little less.”

She shook her head a huff leaving her, she not helping but to tease him. “If you leave again anytime soon and I welcome you home like this again I have a feeling I’m going to be walking down the aisle with a bun in the oven.”

He chuckled at the comment pressing a kiss to her temple, the words taking her by shock. “Aye, can’t say I’d be disappointed if ye did.” 

She felt her cheeks flush at the comment, unable to deny that she wouldn’t quite mind it either.

She gave his shoulder a pat, her eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. “Welcome home, Filip.”

“Aye, happy to be home, Mo bheatha.” He remarked sleep flooding his own vision. 

He wasn’t lying, if this was how she welcomed him home then it would make the next run he was forced to go on feel far less miserable.

------

mo bheatha = my life

mo luaidh = my darling.

[that-one-anxious-mango]

You Understand.

Summary: You feel you must be honest with Austin about something before either of you venture further.

Contents: Fluff Ofc! Mentions of virginity and loss of virginity. Overall just a good ole' fashion comfort fic (our favorite).

Pairing: Austin Butler x Black Reader

A/N: Hi! Long time no see! I'm very happy to be posting the first installment of the new year, and I am very excited for what it brings for all of us. I hope you enjoy.

P.S: Everyone PLEASE feel free to comment, I absolutely love reading them and it helps to motivate me to keep going with the series. Also don't shy, re-blog, like, and share if you care! Much love! * hugs*

----

“ I can’t believe you don’t like cotton candy. This almost feels like a crime.” Austin goofed, pointing to the small thing of strawberry cotton candy in his hand.

You snorted, “ I can’t believe you do. It’s all nice and dandy until it deflates or melts on your fingers. After that it’s gross.” 

" Plus, I prefer a nice fat funnel cake with all the fixings." You added.

“ You call it gross, and I call it the natural sacrifices one has to make for their favorite fair food. “ He wiggled his eyebrows and took a bite of the sugary confection.

You giggled at how cute he looked and even managed to take out your phone with your free hand to snap a picture of the happy cotton candy boy.

The two of you continued to laugh and joke along the Santa Monica Pier until you came to a comfortable pause of silence. 

That’s when your heart sank at the realization that this was the perfect time to tell him what had been on your mind and heart the last couple of days. You’d even consulted your friends beforehand to make sure the time was right. Once they agreed you knew exactly what had to be done.

So right here, right now, you were going to rip the band-aid clean off in hopes it wouldn’t bleed. 

“ So….” You swung his hand in yours, “ I hate to put some weight on the mood since I know we’re having such a good time.” You started. 

“ Yeah..” Austin replied, tossing his now empty cotton candy paper in a nearby trash.

“ And I can say that these last couple weeks with you have been great, honestly. But I feel like before we continue whatever this is that we’re doing, I need to let you know something because I don’t wanna lead you on.” You said, twisting at the bracelets on your wrist. 

“ Uh huh.” He encouraged me, beginning to feel a bit nervous now. 

“ As you recall, the other night when you came over to return my copy of The Policeman, upon your departure during our goodbyes things got a little spicy an- “ 

Austin immediately went to into apology,  “Again, I’m really sorry about that I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything I jus-”

Quickly you held a hand up to stop him, “ Please. It’s okay. You apologized more than enough the other night. Just wait a second and hear me out, okay. “

He nodded. 

“  As I was saying. Things got a little steamy. Let me just mention again that nothing happened that I didn’t want to. But the thing is….” 

You paused gathering your words right in your brain…

“ I guess I’m trying to figure out a way to say this without sounding completely vulgar.” You rub your now sun-kissed arm as if you're trying to brush the nerves out of your body. 

Austin’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “ Oh. Uh, well. I mean..just say it. Honesty is the best policy and I’m sure I can handle it.”

“ Yeah? “

“ Yeah.” He quickly replied, curious to see what you’d spun in your mind so obscene that you felt like you couldn’t speak.

You cleared your throat, “Okay. Fine. Here it goes..” 

“ With the way that you kissed me that night with your lips, clung your hands onto the edges of my hips, and the sounds I had to suppress from the deepest part of my being when your hand accidentally brushed against my…lower half. I had half the mind to offer for you to stay the night at my place just so that we could “ accidentally”  keep touching each other in many, many different places all night. “ You divulged. 

At your confession Austin's eyebrows shot up and he could feel his body begin to heat the same way it did that spoken of night, you could tell this by the soft peony color that collected on the surface of his cheeks and the way he looked away to watch the wheel turn on the Ferris wheel. 

You did your best to hide the shy twisted grin on your lips that came from knowing that you’d made him blush. 

When he turned back you could see the cheesiest smile play on his lips , “ I see. Well thank you for your honesty..it’s much appreciated.”

“ You’re welcome.” You gulped, “ So, with that being said I want you to know that while I’m not opposed to us taking our-”

“ Relationship.” Austin offered up.

It was your turn to raise your eyebrows at him. You hadn’t expected him to so casually throw out the R in this conversation. But remembering the words of your friends ringing in your mind you decided to play it cool and test the waters, “ Right. Well, let me just say that no one has asked me to be their girlfriend yet so….” 

“ I’m working on it. “ He said, you noticed the small bit to his lips and willed yourself to try and keep your mind focused. 

“ We’ll see.” You casually replied before continuing with your intended statement, “ But something you should know is….” 

You found the words getting stuck in your throat, but when you looked his gentle smile you found the courage to keep going. 

“ You should know that I am a virgin.” You confessed, “ And it is by choice.” 

“ AND, before you say anything. NO! It’s not because I couldn’t have had sex with someone or because people weren’t interested. Or because something’s wrong with me. But because I believe that sex is an intimate exchange of love between two people and I want my first time to be with someone I love and I know is in love with me.” You affirmed. 

      “ If that’s something that bothers you or you think it’s weird or whatever, then this is where we should just call this now so we can both leave this…thing…while still being friends.” You finished, looking out toward the pier in an act to distract yourself from how hard you could feel your heart beating in your chest. 

It was silent for a moment after you finished, and with each passing moment you were preparing yourself for the age old speech every man gave when he couldn’t get what he wanted from a woman.

It’s not you, it’s me. 

When really they wanted to say: “ It’s not me, it’s you and the fact you won’t put out.” 

Eventually his voice broke out among the chatters of people and whirl of the wind,  “ Well, again. Thank you for being honest with me. I really do appreciate it.” Austin began.

“ No problem.” You nodded, arms folded across your chest, as you still tried your best to hide your absolutely nerve ridden body.

“ As far as your…confession goes, I want you to know that you being a-

“ Virgin.” You quickly interjected, “ I’m a virgin.” 

A laugh was stifled from Austin, “ Yes, a virgin. You being a virgin doesn’t bother me any at all.”

You quickly quirked an eyebrow at him, “ Really? “ 

“ Truly.” He smiled, “ Your choice that you’ve made for your body is entirely your own. And I respect and admire your decision.” 

“ Admire? “ 

That’s a first.

“ Yeah. I admire your reasoning behind your choice. Especially since I felt like when it was my time I didn’t exactly lose mine the way one should have. I was younger and shy. Felt the peer pressure from some people my age, so I just went ahead and did it to say I did it.”  He opened up. 

You were stunned a bit at his honesty. No guy you’d ever come across had opened up to you like this, especially about something so intimate. All it did was make you grow more curious to continue exploring just what kind of species of man you were dealing with.

You shook your head, “ God, I’m so sorry that happened to you. I can tell you from experience I know what that’s like and it’s hard.” 

Growing up around the people you did, all through middle school and high school you were ridiculed about being a “ prude “ or a “ prissy princess who thinks she’s better than everyone “ all because you kept your virginity to yourself.

He smiled, “ Thank you. But don’t go feeling too bad. I eventually had the chance to actually make love to someone and have it mean something. Which is all I can ever wish for you and  anyone else.”

You nodded, “ Right. Well thanks for being so cool about it. Lord knows you’re the first guy this conversation has ever actually gone pleasant with. I appreciate your understanding.” 

Austin didn’t hesitate, “ Of course. You gotta know that I’m not in this for something as simple as sex. As people we both could walk out into the world and find that anywhere.”

“ I’m here because as cliche as it may sound, I’ve never met anyone like you before. And I really enjoy spending time with you and picking your brain. And if one day AFTER I ask you officially to be my girlfriend, you decide you wanna take things up a notch that's fine. If not, that's fine too because that's not the most important thing going on here.” He reached out to regrasp your hand in his and give it a tight squeeze.

You look over directly at him to hold the gaze from his eyes and couldn’t help but catch that familiar feeling that made you all warm and gooey.

It was then you could confirm that you REALLY liked him, like truly were infatuated with the man before you. 

“ Well, I guess we’ll just have to see what happens, huh? “ You said.

“ I guess.” Austin smiled.

“ Good.” You whispered.

“ Great.” He replied, making you both bust into a fit of giggles. 

“ Since we have that settled. “ Austin abruptly stopped in front of the ring toss stand, “ I believe I promised you, young lady. A stuffed cow, and I see the most handsome one hanging from this booth.” He pointed to the adorable white and blue spotted cow plush hanging from the stall.

You couldn’t stop the shrill that invaded your voice, “ Oh My Gosh! Austin, he's adorable.” 

“ I know. He’ll look even cuter in your arms. C’mon honey let’s go.” He happily ushered the two of you over to the booth and into your future together.  

[deadpanwalking]

The cancellation of the 2024 World Voices festival reminded me that I meant to make a post about this last week, when PEN America announced that it could not hold its annual literary award ceremony because so many authors and translators had withdrawn their submissions.  I don’t doubt that there's another post of this sort making the rounds, but since the ceremony was going to be tomorrow, I wanted to celebrate the literary achievements of every Finalist with a demonstrable backbone.

This is a list of writers who acted with integrity by withdrawing their work from the American subset of PEN International, an organization which has served as a bridge between literature and human rights for over a century.  PEN America has largely built its reputation by supporting persecuted writers, and has let down the entire international literary community by failing to take a meaningful public stance against the ongoing genocide of the Palestinian people. 

The following titles have been withdrawn from consideration at the request of the authors and translators:

PEN/Jean Stein Book Award

To a book-length work of any genre for its originality, merit, and impact, which has broken new ground by reshaping the boundaries of its form and signaling strong potential for lasting influence.

Hangman by Maya Binyam 

Biography of X by Catherine Lacey

Poem Bitten by a Man by Brian Teare

Blackouts by Justin Torres

PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize for Debut Short Story Collection

To an author whose debut collection of short stories represents distinguished literary achievement and suggests great promise for future work.

The Sorrow of Others by Ada Zhang

PEN/Hemingway Award for Debut Novel

To a debut novel of exceptional literary merit.

Promise by Rachel Eliza Griffiths

Natural Beauty by Ling Ling Huang

PEN/Voelcker Award for Poetry Collection

To a poet whose distinguished collection of poetry represents a notable and accomplished literary presence.

Couplets by Maggie Millner

suddenly we by Evie Shockley

PEN Translation Prize

From From by Monica Youn

For a book-length translation of poetry from any language into English.

Owlish by Dorothy Tse translated from the Chinese by Natascha Bruce

Trash by Sylvia Aguilar-Zéleny translated from the Spanish by J.D. Pluecker

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

It's You

Summary: You and Benny go waaay back.

A/N: Another one. (just came back and realized I left some sentences hanging I'm so sorry😢.)

Warnings: minor DNI 18+, smut, dry humping, p in v, adorable origin story.

Word Count: 3.5k

Looking out at the endless stretches of land you're reminded of bits of your childhood, spent with your mother’s parents. You remember a massive backyard with no fence like the one at home and a tire swing that never caught a break. The stink of outside caused your grandmother to tell you to shower before you sat at her dining table. From those early memories, it was your favorite place. But the summer you turned 9 the cracks in your family were too big to ignore, unbeknownst to you.

When your parents' divorce was finalized all you thought was that you’d get two of everything but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Your mom got remarried first promising a new beginning, except eventually, that meant without you. Her husband, Liam, was lovely enough but after you refused to call him ‘dad’ the exclusion began there. You spent more and more weeks with your dad under the guise of them needing time together. 

The announcement of your mother's pregnancy shocked you but you were happy to be a big sibling. Even though you spent more time with your dad it was explained to you they needed to set up for the baby. The tension between your mother and father was thick. He hated the way she was allowing her new husband to treat you like yesterday’s trash, seeing you cry after your mother denied you for the umpteenth time left your father feeling defeated. 

He knew how much you loved going to your grandparents, despite the divorce they maintained a good relationship. So he sucked it up and called his former mother-in-law to have a heart-to-heart. His hushed whispers didn’t stop you from eavesdropping.

“I just don’t know what to do, I can’t fill in for Monica and she can’t be bothered to care,” Your dad sighs. “I need her to have some normalcy and more than me to fall back on. I just don’t think I’m enough anymore.” Your father’s hidden grieves finally aired. 

“Baby you are doing the best you can, I’m sorry it’s been this bad. I don’t know what’s gotten into Monica but she's always welcome to stay with us, you too if you ever need to.” 

“She does love it up there.” Although you only hear your father’s side excitement thrums throughout you, and only one place makes you that happy.

“Mhmm can’t keep her overactive behind in the house.” Grandma's quip summons your father's deep chuckle thinking of the time spent at his former in-laws. “So it’s settled then bring her behind up here and she’ll be alright.” 

“Thank you.” In only two words anyone could feel genuine gratitude from your father. 

……….

Your heart beats a mile a minute as you pull up to your grandparent's house, It’s been longer than usual and you weren’t sure if they still wanted you around. Noticing your hesitance your dad gives you space and goes to get the bags out of the trunk. By the time he drags the last of them to the steps he sees you standing at the door. 

“You gonna let em’ know we’re here sweet pea?” He gently urges you with raised brows.

You raise your hand to ring the doorbell, listening to the wind chimes on the porch. Then you hear a flurry of steps come to the door, and both of your grandparents answer suspiciously. Once you’re in the house you can tell they are huddled together to hide something for you.

“Me and Nana talked and we know it can get a little lonely when you’re here with us geriatrics,” your grandmother swats him with a side glance. “This is someone we found to help with that.” 

A black kitten with doll-like eyes stares back at you, gently you approach the pet and feel their fur. You get an instant response as a smile slowly blossoms across your face. “What’s their name?” 

“We thought you could take care of naming him.” Your grandmother looks fondly upon you enjoying the kitten. 

“Ok, but I need to get to know him better first.” You decide before running up the stairs to your room yelling a “Thank you,” to everyone involved. 

Hours pass as you get to know your kitten. He’s not fond of outside but he’ll stay on the porch and watch you. He prefers to roam around in the same room as you rather than cuddle, not that you mind. Even though you don’t see him all the time you know he’s there, which was oddly comforting to you. 

After spending enough time holed in your room you come downstairs to bother your grandpa while he watches sports. Except you find two teenage-looking boys sitting in the living room with him. The older one, you assume, has longer hair like the men in your grandma's ‘special’ books. He’s got blue eyes that are glued to the screen like he’s getting paid. The younger one though, is already looking at you causing heat to flood your cheeks. You back up the way you came and head to where your grandmother is. 

“Nana who are those people on the couch with Grandpa?”

“Oh those are our new neighbor’s kids, They moved in the house a mile from here and they help out in exchange for dinner.” Your Nan lets out before adding, “Where’s your kitten sweet pea?”

“Sebastien’s taking a nap” you proudly tell her.

You saddle up next to her watching as she cooks and helping cut, albeit rather slowly, but she doesn’t seem to mind. The kitchen smells better than ever which attracts the three people dedicated to watching sports in the other room. The two boys enter the room and you busy yourself stirring the pot. 

“Do you want me and Benny to set the table ma’am?” The older one addresses your Nan.

“That would be great, thank you, William. Before I forget this is my granddaughter,” she gives your name before turning back to you. “This is William Miller,” she gestures toward the older one. “And this is his younger brother Benjamin Miller.” 

You manage to look at both of them with a small smile before going back to the pot. Once the dinner table is set the five of you sit down silently to eat, just the way you like it. Though you feel the stare of one particular person, you cast a glance at Benjamin who doesn’t bother looking away. You break first finishing your food and bringing it to the kitchen, Benny is right behind you with his plate. 

“You know it’s rude to stare.” You attempt to chastise him.

“Weren’t you staring at me and my brother earlier?” He grins knowing he caught you.

“No.” You decide to lie.

“If you say so, what do you do for fun here?” Benny's been bored since Will, him, and mom moved next door.

“I have a tire swing out back and there’s a creek not too far from here.” You hope he picks the tire swing, it’s more fun if someone pushes you.

“The creek sounds fun.” He muses.

“So does the tire swing.” You counter.

“We can do the tire swing when we get back.” He assures you.

“You promise?” Your eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Pinky.” He holds up his to solidify his word.

On your way out you tell your grandmother you’re showing Benny the creek, she warns you to be careful. Throughout the walk you come to find out Benjamin isn’t as quiet as you thought. He’s very talkative rattling over so many topics it’s almost hard to keep up. You don’t mind though it’s nice being around him. 

Benny follows your lead, so much so that when you stop abruptly he doesn’t have time to stop himself before barreling through you. The muffled grunt underneath him has Benjamin moving faster than usual. As Benny helps you emerge from the ground, he helps pick out leaves stuck in your hair. The death glare you send him has him primarily focusing on the back of your hair.

“Sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” You roll your eyes but accept his apology no less. Luckily your clothes didn’t get mud on them.

“It’s fine.”

You begin moving to the edge to dip your feet in. Benjamin follows your lead, this time careful of your movements. “You know there’s a bunch of pretty pebbles at the bottom?” Benny cranes his neck to try and spot what you’re talking about. You inch towards him motioning straight down past the edge. “See all the green and blue ones?” You back up to let him get a better look. 

Benjamin’s hands are planted on the edge as he peers over, what he doesn’t expect is you hip-checking him into the water. The loud and humid air that once surrounded him turned into cool still water. Once he resurfaced and found you peering down at him with a cheeky grin, he couldn’t even be mad. 

“Now can we go back to swing?” Benny heaved himself out of the water, wringing his shirt out before trudging behind you. You practically skip the whole way to the backyard, surprised to find Will sitting on the porch. Upon seeing the both of you worse for wear he muffles a laugh. To make matters worse you look like you’re the one bossing him around on the swing.

When the Miller brothers walk home that night the squelching of Benny’s clothes has Will laughing the entire way home. 

………..

At present, you and Benny are celebrating his return from deployment. Even now over a decade later Benjamin and you were glued at the hip. You watch as he pours another shot out for you, this will be the 6th one. Just like the good old days, you two are getting shit-faced by the creek.

Throughout the years of you coming to stay with your grandparents, Benny would arrive before you did. The pair of you got close enough that he told you about his parent's divorce and how he hadn’t seen his dad as much. You hugged him and reiterated the words your dad told you ‘their loss’. After you told him about your mom he was ready to storm her house and demand an answer to her absence in your life. 

Sebastien and he got along well enough, Benny was always a little too excitable for him to be around. Benny had always had good looks but as the two of you got older, you couldn’t deny your growing attraction to him. His shoulders got broader, almost always stretching whatever shirt he was wearing. But his face chiseled out with facial hair, he had no idea what an ugly phase was. His hair was gorgeous and when he told you he was gonna have to chop it off for training you thought that was it. But no, his buzzcut enhances his face and makes you look into his eyes. 

“What are you gonna do?” You peer down at him lying on his back while you sit up gazing at the water.

“You remember when I told you I wanted to do MMA?” 

“So you wanna get the shit beat out of you for a living?” You were mostly jesting but a small part of you is worried. 

“Don’t worry, I’m a real professional,” He sits up and playfully punches the air in front of him. “C’mon I bet you can’t take me.” He stands up rousing you to play fight with him. 

“How many times do I have to push you in that water before I finally shut you up?” You finally take the shot that’s been sitting in front of you, standing with a little wobble to match his stance.

Benny stands nearly a foot above you, hunching his shoulders to somewhat meet your height. He rocks back and forth trying to figure out your next move.  You keep a distance in an effort to defend against his long arms, which he tries and fails to swat at you. You charge at him full speed to knock him over into the leaves. 

His arms circle your waist trapping you with him as he falls. When his big body hits the ground with a thud you laugh and try pushing off of him. But his arms don’t loosen, instead they slide down your waist and squeeze. Your breath momentarily stalls and you look into Benny’s eyes, his pupils blown with a thin blue outer layer. The smell of his Irish Spring soap encases you. 

“Benny?” You say his name like a question hoping he’ll clue you in.

“Sugar.” He responds lowering his pupils to your lips, the sudden transition causing you to lick your lips.

Benny groans low and you feel it through your hands on his chest. Your faces almost touch but neither of you make the first move. He nudges your nose before turning his head to press his lips to yours. Despite this being your first kiss with him you wanted more. Your body pressed into his, closing what little distance you had between you. His left-hand glides up your body to grab the back of your neck, keeping you there. 

You lick his bottom lip wanting to feel everything from him. Thinking you’re dominating the kiss, you eagerly lick into his mouth. Letting out all of your unabashed moans, Benny presses your hips to his groin needing to feel friction. You decide to pull back and sit up much to Benny’s dismay, the string of spit connecting you two brings a hazy look to his eye. You bring your knees up to either side of his hips, and before he can ask why you’re back on him.

Benny doesn’t give you the upper hand this time, his warm tongue sliding back into your mouth like it’s supposed to be there. You feel a pulse in your core that only gets more incessant with Benny exploring your mouth. You begin rocking your hips against his in an attempt to relieve the thrumming, but all it does is make you more needy. The kiss deteriorates since you can’t keep up with Benny’s mouth, not when your clit is rubbing against his zipper so deliciously.

“M’sorry it feels so good.” You let out before biting your lip to quiet the sounds. 

“Show me.” Benny raises his thumb to your lip to release it. “Lemme hear you.” 

Your eyes must be pitch black looking down at Benny while you hump him like a possessive dog. Benny’s hands find their way to your hips again, squeezing and pressing his bulge against your clit. He groans as you rub yourself against him faster, he loves the look of your scrunched-up face and pouty lips. 

“You feel what you do to me?” He asks you while staring at you intensely. 

“Fuck,” His mouth is hung open, letting out the prettiest moans just for you.

Another jolt of arousal heads straight down to your core, your panties are dripping. The wet spot on Benny’s pants from you grows, you would be embarrassed but your dignity left the moment his tongue went in your mouth. With your hands on his chest, you can feel the string within you about to snap. When you feel it snap your hips stutter and your hands find purchase on his biceps. Although your mouth is open you have no idea if you’re screaming or not, your hearing temporarily goes out. 

You both stare at each other with blown pupils and puffy lips. Unsure of how to proceed both of you remain unmoved, the surrounding nature seems to follow suit. Benny sits up placing his palms behind him to nudge your nose again. 

“I love you,” He pauses slightly “And not in a platonic way, I wanna marry you. I had a lot of time to think and all I thought about was you. I was counting the days to see you cause I missed you so bad. I mean we’re already halfway there.” 

Benny’s confession leaves your heart beating so rapidly that you think he hears it too. You suppose you two are more than halfway there. The friendship you share is something intimate, not in a friendly way either more like a married couple that’s been together decades and knows the other inside out.

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” You stare at him, waiting for an answer. 

“Only if you say yes.” His eyes never leave yours, you can feel the warmth in his gaze. 

“Okay but only if you come back and spend the night with me.” You bargain, though you know he’ll say yes.

“I’m getting too old to shimmy up that tree?” He laughs at the memories of staying up all night talking. 

“We’ll go through the front if you promise to stay fucking quiet.” You pointedly tell him before pulling back from the intimate position you were in.

Standing up you adjust your pants trying to make sure there are no visible wet spots on you. Even though there are none Benny takes off his hoodie, handing it to you without a word. The walk back is surprisingly quiet but it’s not awkward, not when Benny’s eyes keep finding their way to you. The full moon illuminates the back porch of your Grandparents' place. With all the lights off you and Benny go around to the front quietly making your way up the creaky porch steps. 

Benny’s hands slide down your sides, hooking his fingers in your belt loops. You take it one step at a time so as to not chance waking anyone up. Your shadow follows your every step with his warm breath bearing down your neck. If you weren’t as professional as you were he would’ve tripped you up. Once safely in your room the breath you were holding releases itself. Sebastien’s head pops up from where he lays on your bed, more specifically your side of the bed. 

“I’m taking a shower you coming?” Without giving him a chance to answer you begin taking off your clothes on the way to the bathroom. 

Benny wastes no time pulling off his clothes and placing them in one pile before joining you. He gets in before the water’s scorching, the feeling of your hand gripping his bicep before you slip in has him making room for you. 

“Benny it’s freezing,” You shiver while gripping his biceps harder.

“Sugar it’s 90 degrees outside why do you even want hot water.” He’s just as confused as you.

“Because it isn’t 1800 we have air conditioning now.” You gently move Benny to the side, and he lets you get closer to the now steaming water. 

With you in front, you take advantage of the hot water beating against your skin. When you turn around to face Benny again he rushes you into a heated kiss, his soft lips melting against yours. His hands cup your ass sending your hips straight into his. Benny backs you against the tile before lifting you. 

“This what you want?” You don’t answer Benny with words instead grabbing the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours. 

He lines himself up with your entrance before slowly sinking himself inside you. The groan he lets out vibrates against your chest. Benny’s cock stretches you in the most delicious way, you can no longer focus on the kiss and throw your head back against the tile. Benny takes the time to focus on your neck, licking and sucking on your sensitive spots to loosen you up for him. 

“You’re perfect,” His sudden declaration has you clenching down on him. Benny’s hips begin to speed up, frantically humping into your own. The sound of your pussy keeping up with Benny was drowned out by the water. “Look at me,” Benny demands of you while his hips drive into you. 

When your eyes meet his, he tells you, “I love you.”

With your mouth hanging open you return the sentiment, your hips driving into his on pure instinct. Benny’s hands grip your hips in a way that will bruise tomorrow but right now he can’t bring himself to care. He places his focus on the way your tits bounce every time he connects his hips to yours. Before he can warn you, ropes of cum shoot out deep inside your pussy. The rocking of his hips slows until you're both panting against one another.

Benny releases you to the ground but keeps his hands on you knowing you’ll need some assistance. He takes your washcloth and douses it in whatever scented body soap you have on your shelf. He rubs it thoroughly throughout your body creating suds that make your body even more inviting. He’s gentle while cleaning up the mess he made. Once you’re finished he quickly washes himself before dragging the both of you out.

Your eyes are barely open while he puts one of his shirts on you. He travels over to the drawer dedicated to him, pulling out a pair of boxers to sleep in. As he slides in bed behind you he kisses your neck before wrapping an arm around you. 

taglist: @emilianamason

[fireemblems24]

Golden Wildfire Ch 11

On we go to ch 11. Things are . . . uh . . . interesting.

MAIN STORY

So if you didn't see ch 10, I failed to recruit Byleth. I retried the level a few time, but honestly I just want to finish this game so I didn't bother.

Plus, the reason I failed was that Claude just sat there instead of moving forward on the escort mission, which got really frustrating, and honestly I didn't want to bother.

Ugh, I don't want to fight the Kingdom.

So those Houses that wanted to defect to the Kingdom didn't because Claude's battle was that bloody in that fire map.

Poor Dimitri and co seems like he's just betting bullied for no real reason by two imperialistic maniacs.

I love how Arval is getting snooty over Shez getting credit for their tactics lamo.

Man, this dialogue is dragging.

So Nadar is going to cause diplomatic chaos by utilizing the Almyran army without getting real permission.

Wait, Claude riled up Sreng? So much for "ending racism" lamo. Wasn't having two cultures not be prejudice against each other like his MO? The writers really just threw him in the trash, hunh.

I feel so bad for Claude fans. He's really a piece of work in this.

MAP/SIDE STUFF

Everyone missing Judith has a lot more punch than Randolph. Even Monica was like "get over it" to Fleche (but nicely).

So, let me make sure I have this right. Mr. I Want to End Prejudice Between Cultures just provoked Sreng into attacking the Kingdom so Edelgard can take it over because Rhea is the reason for everything bad. Did I get that right?

Unlike SB, GW is entertaining as hell, but man is the logic here is just non-existant. And poor Claude RIP.

Like, I know I'm biased and all, but I don't see how you're supposed to be the heroes and not Dimitri here. The people just defending themselves are getting attacked on all 3 fronts for the crime of *existing.*

Not going to lie. I kinda wish Claude didn't side with you in AG either. It would've been hype to kick everyone's ass as Dimitri after getting cornered by all these land-grabbers.

GW!Claude is really just the mean girl's sidekick. 😂

If Felix and Rodrigue die in this chapter I swear to God . . . (I just remembered Rodrigue is dead in SB now 😭 - LET THIS MAN SURVIVE).

I had to fight Felix in a side mission. Lysithea said they had to "defend this place" - like, girl, you are invading.

When the challenge is "you can't dodge" but you're using Lorenz 😌👌 (FYI, he just does not take damage in this game)

SHEZ & HILDA A SUPPORT

They're talking about how Hilda exerted energy in a battle because she worried about Shez.

Hilda claims it's just self-defense bc she was cheering for Shez on the front lines and enemies were there (honestly, this is pretty boring so far)

It's the same-old Hilda claiming she's weak but that not being true.

SHEZ & CONSTANCE C SUPPORT

I know she's an Empire character, but whatever.

She wants to create new magics to restore her noble house and wants to research Shez bc of their weird magic

Lamo, Constance low-key called us dumb

Shez suggests she get her house back through military accomplishments.

Constance refuses to train right now, she wants to at night (it's her dual personality thing, right?)

CLAUDE & LYSITHEA B SUPPORT

Their first one. Claude's unhappy Lysithea charged in the last battle. But Lysithea kicked ass, so she's upset with Claude.

Claude calls her plan dumb and that he thought Lysithea was smarter than that. Lysithea still argues it ended earlier bc of her.

Lysithea doesn't back down.

Honestly, I side with her here. Claude's being patronizing. And it's rich of him not to care about all the other deaths dragging out the battle would cause and only Lysithea dying because she's *important*

CLAUDE & HOLST A SUPPORT

Oof, this one hurts. Claude accuses the church of creating all the systems to serve their own interests, because he doesn't know the truth here. That the Empire actually created most of it, and that all the church ever did was protect a genocided race from being murdered by more power-hungry humans.

It's also hysterical to hear Claude talk about wanting to improve foreign relations while instigating a war between two cultures.

Oof, Holst doesn't care about any of this. He's only worried Claude's going to send Hilda to marry a big, brown, scary foreigner. NOT a good look.

Holst says he cares more about Hilda's future than the whole Alliance. Yikes.

HILDA & HOLST A SUPPORT

They're preparing a feast.

Oh, it's nice to see Hilda's insecurities about Holst's "perfection" come up in this, bc so far she hadn't said much.

After that last support though, Holst is actually a pretty shitty leader.

Holst wants to make the feast all about Hilda instead of himself though. Hilda likes the attention.

Hilda basically had to set up her own feast lol.

HILDA & LINHARDT A SUPPORT

Hilda's cleaning, and Linhardt's honestly upset that he's lost a fellow lazy person.

Hilda claims she never pushes work on people. That, is a lie.

Linhardt is mostly worried how bad it'll look if he's the only one not working instead one of two.

All this support confirms that Linhardt is by far the superior lazy.

LORENZ & LYSITHEA A SUPPORT

Their only support.

So, not related to their support (and watch it counter it), but I find it pretty amusing how getting a leadership position faster matured Felix and Sylvain, but Lorenz is still a bit of a joke and the butt-end of every support he's in.

He's just bragging about how awesome his position and power is.

Lysithea says she's not inheriting her house. She claims it's because she doesn't like what comes with nobility, but we all know why.

She worried that the land will go to chaos without it's leaders though. Lorenz offers help (which, imo, he's actually mature here!)

Lorenz suspects she's turning it down for another reason and encourages her to rely on others to help.

RAPHAEL & LEONIE B SUPPORT

Raphael keeps snapping bows in half when he uses them. Leonie's shocked.

Leonie seems to actually make one and invites Raphael to test it while on guard duty with her.

IGNATZ & MARIANNE B SUPPORT

Marianne found his picture. He puts it down, but she likes it (it's a horse, well a pegasus, but of course)

Ignatz gets carried away talking about it, but Marianne finds it cute.

Ignatz finds Marianne loving pegasus cute. She blushes.

He wants Marianne's help, helping him paint a pegasus bc they don't like men, but if Marianne is around he can get closer and get a better painting. She's happy to help.

Honestly, this whole support is really cute.

MAIN BATTLE/STORY

It sucks having to attack the Kingdom over and over again when all they want to do is exist in peace.

Oh, joy, Nadar wants to plunder Faerghus. I can see why Fodlan is so evil for not wanting to let them do what they will.

GW really had a chance here to finally do something interesting with Almyra. It even marketed itself as a route that WOULD. But instead it's just doubled-down on Almyra being a one-note lawless place full of barbarians. At least we have Brigid and Duscur so the only brown country isn't some racist stereotype. Since it's only 1 of 3, it's not AS bad of a look.

Fuck. I don't want to kill Felix and Rodrigue. It would be one thing if the Kingdom actually provoked this, but Felix and Rodrigue haven't done anything to deserve this.

I get to recruit Ashe again. Is he miserable here too?

Ugh, I was hoping Felix and Rodrigue weren't here. It seems vastly unfair that it's only Kingdom characters who die for reel in this.

Wow. Claude's really an A-class asshole. He told Ashe to surrender because Dimitri wouldn't want him to die. Maybe don't invade for no reason then?

Is Claude also going to single Felix out as a citizen of Faerghus who deserves to live? Or does only Ashe count and not the nobles and unnamed grunts he's slaughtering because he decided to team up with the person who plans on taking over his rule? (not hate to Ashe at all, I honestly feel awful for him in this game)

Ok, so fighting Felix is just a side quest. I'd rather fail a side quest than fight Felix so, going to try to avoid having to kill him. Ugh, he's attacking the engineers. And he's damn right saying he has every right to kill the people who are invading his home.

Thank God, he just retreated.

I still love how Claude got bent out of shape over Ashe, but Lorenz alone has killed 500 citizens of Faerghus this chapter so . . .

Felix is so worried about Rodrigue. I swear the writers wanted you to feel like shit playing this route.

Oh, fuck. Just when I thought I was finished killing people for defending themselves, Daddy Gautier shows up :( He's sacrificing himself to safe Felix and Rodrigue, isn't he?

Oh, fuck. He died for real 😭

It's really hard to like these characters, making mindless chit-chat after killing Sylvain's daddy. I hope Sylvain fucks them up a new one.

I've never wanted to slap a character more than I'd love to slap Claude right now. The moron has the audacity to be surprised people are going to die while he's invading a foreign country. What a fucking stupid moron.

He's also blaming - get this right - chivalry.

I'm like. I'm speechless right now.

That's right guys. Margrave Gautier died defending his king, his country, his home, and most importantly one of his fucking best friends from an asshole invader. But it's CULTURE'S fault he died.

I'm really confused what the hell Claude thinks he's doing. Does he REALLY think killing Rhea will magically allow people to live as they please? Didn't he grow up in another country where they had princes and shit and NO Rhea?? All he's doing is making Edelgard's take over easier.

This is starting to feel like a borderline spoof. Look at us end the war by invading another nation!!! I mean???

What's his plan? Kill everyone in Faerghus - profit - "freedom" from Rhea - Edelgard takes over - no profit???

The writing in this route has gotten really fucking stupid. Like, I LIKE the idea of evil!Claude. Either a Claude who wants to take over all of Fodlan or one who's ruthless and will do anything to preserve Leicester.

But what I don't like is really fucking dumb Claude, which is what GW's devolved into.

Oh, God, now we get a flashback between father and son. Sylvain and Gautier :(

Sylvain better not be fucking recruitable in this route.

Now Sylvain's in charge 😭😭😭😭

I'm convinced someone who's a major Edelgard stan wrote the larger plot of this, but then a Dimitri stan wrote the actual dialogue 😅

We really go from one moment Claude being like - it's Rhea's fault Gautier died bc Kingdom culture bad because church bad to Sylvain being like, naw, he died defending his friends.

At the very least, I'll give Hopes credit here. At least they didn't write anyone opposing Edelgard as either evil or like they're idiots for resisting invasion, but I almost feel like they made the Kingdom especially too sympathetic which makes Edelgard look more interesting (since SB is more honest than CF) and Claude just look like a bozo. Rhea just doesn't look like anything since she's not even here.

Though, I REALLY wish Claude didn't side with us in AG. I really wish we got to see Faerghus backed into a corner and kick everyone's asses. They've very much the underdog and watching them do that would've been awesome.

Felix and Rodrigue are beating themselves up over this.

See, this is what I mean - Sylvain just said he's reserving all his hatred for the foreign invaders who take everything for no reason - I really feel like a Dimitri fan saw how everyone collectively decided to take a dump on the Kingdom in the big plot and got revenge by making everyone look like villains (or morons in Claude's case) for doing so in the writing.

xxx