#all the clothes are expired damn

[amokslime]

Just logged in to ASOS for the first time in nine million years and was confronted by the titles of my old moodboards

[sordidmusings]

Tender Love and Care - Hair Care (Buggy x Reader)

Art by Capitanpoops (link keeps expiring QnQ)

A/N: Ah yes, another 'taking care of Buggy's head' fic to take up space on the internet. Just gotta indulge in giving this man some tlc. Did I write four thousand words of simping for the cringefail pirate clown's hair? Yes. And I'd do it again >:p

Word Count: ~4 k

Warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns), Lots of Feelings, yearning, possibly angst?, probably hurt/comfort?, waxing very poetic, Buggy being a prickly bitch who doesn't know how to receive affection, Buggy also being a delusional bitch who immediately latches on to that affection

amab!Version

Next ->

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Touch the makeup and I’ll bite your fingers off!”

“I’m quaking.”

“...I’ll spit in your face.” His eyes narrowed while you blanched. “I’ve got damn good aim too so you better watch those big ol’ eyes.” Almost a compliment? Progress.

“To save us both from catastrophe, I’ll let you keep your grease-face,” you promised. After a few more seconds of giving you the stink eye (really, you should be taking notes because his form is exemplary), Buggy finally settled back into your hold. His stubble scratched lightly at your palms and you allowed your thumbs a scant few passes from his cheek bones to the back of his jaw. That was easy enough to play off as mindless movements while you examined him for the coming wash. Hopefully.  You were at least putting in the effort to keep the affection in your chest from blooming into a wide smile on your face, lest he begin spitting like a wet cat again.

After placing him down on your clothes chest, you began gathering together the things you’d need to clean him up. You had already prepared a large basin of steaming water before you had grabbed Buggy from Zoro for your night shift with him. If he had truly protested against you then you’d just have extra water to pamper yourself with for your nightly routine. What a loss. While you flitted around grabbing a cup, a pile of towels, and care products, Buggy took to commenting about whatever his eyes fell on around your room. Your half-assed replies did nothing to discourage his gentle roast of your safe space. He only shut up when you picked him back up and brought him over to the basin.

You were taken by surprise when you took off his bandana.  You had guessed that his hair was thick from the pieces that framed his face, but you hadn’t expected long locks to be wrapped up in there. They slipped and fell down like silk despite being in clear need of a wash, and you started to become a bit excited to see how they would come to shine under your care.

“What’s wrong with you? Never seen hair before?” There was a bit more bite to him all of a sudden and it hit you that he may be self-conscious from your staring.

“Never seen yours before, duh,” you teased. “You should wear your hair out as a power move against all the scrangly ass men in these waters.”

Buggy took a blank-faced moment to process your words. Probably weighing your sincerity against the backlog of insults he’s heard in his life. Unfortunately, one joking compliment never stood a chance.

“Whatever, just do your job.” His bitter tone made you keep your mouth shut and drop the topic. For now.

Seeing how he had a lot more hair than anticipated, you got up again to grab yet another towel so that you could use it as a cushion. Finally settled, you grabbed Buggy in one hand, the cup in the other, and got to work. You had laid a small board across the basin so you could rest Buggy on it instead of having to hold him up the whole time. You may have gotten strong in this life, but you were not masochistic enough to try holding him up throughout this process. You made sure to be extra gentle when you put him to rest on the back of his head, mindful that the hard plank wasn’t the most comfortable.

Wetting his hairline was taking longer than you thought. The soft noises from the pouring water hitting his scalp and trickling through his hair into the basin below felt loud in the stillness of the room. Everything had a languid air like you could breathe freely without thought or time to measure the passing of each exhale. Wanting to check in, you looked down from your task and into Buggy’s face. Despite all his past showboating, Buggy was having difficulty keeping his gaze anywhere near your face.  You decided to take pity on him in his discomfort but not too much. “So how’d you get your damn good aim?”

Silence.

You’re beginning to think that him looking at you like you’re stupid is his comfort zone.

“You know, that ‘damn good aim’ that makes my ‘big ol’ eyes’ easy targets?” you supplied.  At first, you thought he would roll his eyes and make more digs at you, but he finally caught you off guard.

“It’s a trade secret,” he said with a growing smile and a glint in his eyes. His face grew even more pleased when you smiled mischievously back at him.

“Clown trade?”

He hummed out an affirmative. You saturated the last of his hair at the front and sides and now needed to dunk the rest in the basin. The sheer amount of long blue locks that this pretty, pretty man had may cause it to overflow, but you supposed that’s just a workplace hazard when becoming a glamor clown’s hairdresser. You paused in lowering him to look around quite dramatically (squinty eyes, pursed lips, and all) before leaning slightly closer to stage whisper, “You can tell me; I ain’t no snitch.”

You barely caught the laugh that he choked short in order to keep up his serious facade. He let his eyes wander the room to double check your surveying and pretended to be in thought. He let out a heaving sigh and said, “Okay, okay, but you have to lean in close. Can’t have this getting out.”

Ever obliging, you turned your head and leaned until you felt his warm breath on your skin and the roundness of his nose tickling to top of your ear. You were thankful he couldn’t see the little shiver down your spine or the goosebumps spreading down your neck. He was thankful you couldn’t see him close his eyes to savor the scent of your perfume. All was still for a few breaths too long.

“The secret?” you prompted, thinking he was waiting for your urging or that he was just trying to make you squirm. You didn’t see his eyes flutter open while he forced thoughts other than your closeness back into that head of his. Okay, he really needed to do something to reel himself back in and get some control of the situation.  Easier said than done when he’s only a head.

You felt as much as you heard him take a deliberate inhale… only for a loud raspberry to be blown right next to your ear.

Nearly dropping him in shock, you quickly pulled your head back and held him at arm’s length like a misbehaved puppy. Through his canting cackles, Buggy met your wide eyes with a proud grin. It didn’t even need the help of his makeup to split his face. Damn, you could stare at that forever. He had just the prettiest eyes you think you’d ever seen. The way they shifted color under the low lights and sparkled with his smile had you feeling entranced. It had the same commanding presence and addicting warmth as flames with their own swirling colors and sparking embers. You thought your poetic idioms for him would always center around the sea, especially for his blue-green eyes, but here we are.

The corner of his smile started to twitch downward under your stare until wild and cheerful giggles burst from your lips. They were the kind to shake your shoulders and scrunch your cheeks up into your eyes and he’s now certain that he has fucked right up. Buggy felt alarms blaring in his mind as he took in your joy and was certain he would make an absolute fool of himself in any and all ways possible to keep getting hits of it. Between your settling laughter, you managed to say, “Don’t worry, I’ll bring that wisdom with me to my grave.”

Readjusting your grip, you moved forward and dunked the back of Buggy’s head fully into the water. He sighed out at the sensation, but he fully melted when one of your hands went to support the back of his skull and the other flowed through his tresses to make sure all of them were wet. You let yourself take your time, both to make sure you were thorough and to indulge yourself in the comfort of the moment. A tenderness spread through you when you saw that this was also indulging Buggy. His breath was slow and steady, and his eyes were resting closed to better focus on the sensations coming to him. You truly were a people pleaser at heart and seeing someone so bedraggled and affection-starved accept your care made your heart and head feel fuzzy.

You slowly leaned him more upright and used your other hand to wipe out some of the excess water. Buggy felt you shuffling around, and his eyes opened to see what you were up to. After you moved him to rest on the flat bottom of his neck on top of the softest towel that he’s felt in ages, he realized that you went through the trouble to try to make even that wooden board comfortable for his sake. He was starting to feel even more uncertain and out of his element.

Careful fingers carded through and spread out his hair behind him while an equally careful gaze watched over their work. After lathering your hands with a shampoo bar scented by vanilla and spices, you set to work giving him the scalp massage of a lifetime.

While focusing on doing the best job possible and maybe also the beautiful color of his hair was keeping you from thinking about anything else, Buggy had no such luxury. He had nothing to direct his nervous energy at - didn’t even have fingers to fidget with! - so he closed his eyes and tried to keep his face neutral. Everyone enjoys a good scalp massage or at least some kind of pampering so it wouldn’t have been weird for him to visibly enjoy it, but something watery and vulnerable was pressing at his throat under your tender care. His mind and body (well… head) were at odds. While his train of thought spun every which way only to be tethered back to the word ‘why’, his muscles melted until they were soft and pleasantly limp. Has his brow ever been so smooth? His jaw so loose? His lips so softly set? Oh God, you must have noticed the stubborn stiffness in his neck because your fingers abandoned his hair to firmly rub from the base of his skull to where he met the towel and that was truly his undoing.

With a rumbly hum, Buggy finally gave in to temptation and tied his mind to your movements. He let himself imagine affection there - imagine that this was special and just for him. You’ve never tended to anyone else like this. You offered because you simply had to know what his hair felt like. You just wanted to touch him. You wanted it much more than you ever wanted to touch anyone else. If he opened his eyes and looked up at yours, he would see them pouring with love, just like your hands were, and you would look sweetly down at him with your pretty eyes and pretty smile and say lovely things and you’d love him-

You’d love him.

Fuck.

You noticed Buggy suddenly flinch under your hands and you tensed up.

“Are you okay? Did I snag your hair?” You hadn’t felt anything tug but you supposed you could’ve missed it.

Buggy cleared his throat before stiffly responding, “No. Keep going.”

Something thick in his tone caught your attention and you looked to see his expression was tense instead of the blissed out one you had admired not too long ago. That won’t do. You went back to the tried and true pressure points on the scalp that you knew from experience eased anyone up. Checking his face again, you noticed it was more relaxed but still too guarded for your tastes. Deciding he must be getting antsy, you switched to working the shampoo down his hair after getting a touch more product on your hands. The time it took to get it properly sudsed and rinsed was calm, despite the fact that there was some undercurrent to the air that felt charged. Maybe it was just from seeing the talkative and bratty clown be so subdued. As you began spreading conditioner through his hair, you decided that it was time to engage him again.

“This bar is my favorite; nothing makes my hair softer,” you said. Already, his hair was relaxing to glide even more smoothly between your fingers. You weren’t ready to give the feeling up, so you spent the entire time that the conditioner was setting to run your fingers through his hair.

Buggy couldn’t do anything at the moment to judge your claim, but the smell alone made him understand why it was your favorite. It matched that of the shampoo bar, but the richer ingredients in the conditioner highlighted the comforting tones of the vanilla and the sensuality of warm spices and wood. He relished in it on every inhale, hoping to unravel and memorize its every undertone. Was that a touch of orchid in there? A little pink peppercorn? Maybe some incense and amber at the base? Buggy suddenly felt ridiculous. He was never one to give much thought to fancy perfumes, yet here he was trying to dissect your scent like a sommelier tasting a new wine. 

You made quick work of rinsing his hair this final time and gently pushing and squeezing any excess water out. You set Buggy back on a towel, this time one that was spread on the floor. It was the one that you had just been sitting on. Buggy was embarrassed that he noticed and enjoyed the fact that he could still feel your body heat on it.

“How many of those things do you have?” Buggy scoffed as you pulled yet another towel over to dry his hair. You bopped his forehead with a finger in warning against further sass.

“You can never have too many. It’s something that you use daily and they come in handy during emergencies,” you explained.

“Oh yeah like what?”

“Well, I was thinking of situations like having to soak up a spill or blood, but the state of your hair definitely qualifies.”

The outburst was immediate.

“I KNEW YOU WERE MAKING FUN OF ME YOU DAMN LIAR! HOW DA-”

Good thing you were prepared for this and stuffed some of yet another towel into his screaming mouth. He bit down on it harshly and glared at you with all his might. Snarls and grumbles still made their way through the cloth, letting you know just how displeased he was. You were a little shocked to find that despite being gagged and despite just being a head that his glare still actually intimidated you. The time spent with the crew treating him like a harmless little pest had helped you forget that, when push came to shove, he could back up his talk with violence.

The brief glimpse of fear in your eyes gave him a twinge of satisfaction but mostly felt a lot more hollow than he’d expected. Wasn’t this what he wanted? 

When you reached back out to continue drying his hair, you were more tentative than he had ever seen you and his mood dropped even further. Even with your caution, the way that you moved the towel over his hair and gently squeezed more water out of it was filled with care. The whole thing felt very foreign to him. Buggy usually rubbed his towel through his hair chaotically like the more forceful he was the sooner he could get done with the bothersome task. You were working over him like any undue force would be an insult. Like he was something precious. That watery feeling started pressing on him again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you started quietly. “I just meant to poke fun, not make you actually feel insulted.” After a few more soft pats with the towel, you slowly removed his makeshift gag. He took a moment to wiggle around his jaw and get the dry feeling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, well good job, dumbass,” he bit. You winced at the hurt in his tone. “Just finish up.”

You took a moment to recenter yourself while you grabbed your comb and brush. This was not how you wanted this to go. One wrong comment had sent this whole interaction spiraling and it made you sad. Sensitivity like that was usually built up from years of feeling the same hurts over and over again, and you didn’t ever want to be someone to aggravate an already festering wound, especially not on someone who you genuinely enjoyed. Not on someone who you were increasingly craving affection from. This needed to be fixed. Steeling yourself for the resistance you were about to meet, you began combing the ends of his hair and spoke, “The blue color is so pretty.”

He ignored you. As expected.

“It was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He still wouldn’t even glance up at you. “Also how it brings out the color of your eyes.”

He snorted dismissively in a way that very clearly told you he wasn’t believing a word you said. Also expected. You’re just going to have to soldier on until this eventually worked… maybe worked… hopefully worked?

Just as in the rest of the process, you were slow and thorough when combing his hair. You murmured compliments to him about how soft it is; how thick and how beautiful. By the time that you had switched to using your brush, he was showing signs of being worn down by your flattery. His face was more relaxed and he let himself look around instead of trying to burn a hole through the floor. All you could focus on, though, was how downcast and tired his eyes looked.

“Alright, I’m all finished up,” you told him. “I’m going to put you in the hammock for a minute while I get ready for bed.”

After placing him in the middle of your bedding, you disappeared behind a dressing screen. The routine of bathing  yourself with a washcloth and bowl of soapy water eased you. Since you had taken so much time tending to Buggy, the last bowl of fresh water had become lukewarm. Despite this, the final wipe down had you feeling refreshed and ready to jump into bed. It was no soak in the tub, but still left you feeling much better after a long day of helping work around the ship.

You had set about your routine briskly so that you didn’t leave Buggy waiting too long. Little did you know, he didn’t mind the time of having nothing to do besides enjoy the soft blankets you curled up in every night. He was trying to soak it in before you inevitably put him back down on the floor. If the night had taught him anything, you’d at least put him on one of those fluffy towels instead of throwing him back in the bag like the others did.

You came over to him on the hammock and he admired how you looked, now clean and fresh in a modest slip. When you picked him back up, your face and body language were as placid as he had ever seen them and he was surprised at how content that made him feel. He readied himself to be moved away, left cold and forgotten, but he was astonished when you plopped yourself in your bedding instead with him still in your hands. The shock must have shown on his face because you giggled at him and gave him a bright smile. Even with the bumpy road that the night had been, your smile made him soft and content. He was realizing with more and more resignation that your smile and laugh would let you get away with anything when it came to him.

“So no floor? Trying to bribe me with favors?” His voice was mostly back to that sarcastic lilt you’ve come to adore.

Content that he was feeling better, you answered, “Nah, just using you so I can have a teddy bear. Haven’t had a good one in ages.”

Making good on that promise, you made sure that he was securely nestled into your neck and shoulder. You used both of your arms to cradle him there and both hands to continue your worship of his hair. It was just barely damp and the coolness felt nice on your hands, especially in contrast to the cozy heat emanating from his head. His long eyelashes tickled at your neck every time he blinked, just like the light scruff on his jaw teased at your chest. His big nose felt cozy rested on your clavicle, and you had to resist the urge to reach down and trail your fingers on it. A giddy and victorious feeling flushed through you when you felt him close his eyes a final time and sink into your embrace.

Buggy should have known that he was doomed from the start. He was having a hell of a time trying not to moan at your fingers scratching and massaging his scalp, both during the hair care and now, when he was held in your arms. He couldn’t stop his little movements to nestle into you and get just that much more of your warmth and touch. If he thought that he loved the smell of you before, he was absolutely intoxicated now that he knew what it was like when it floated over the two of you while wrapped in body-warmed sheets.

He wanted to ask you why you were doing all of this, but he didn’t want to know the answer. Not right now. Right now he was going to let himself go back into that place in his head where you lo- cared about him. A place where each night he would crawl into bed with you and, no matter how the day went, you would be there to empty his mind of anything but the two of you. You’d greet him with a kiss or a laugh or an embrace and you would shine with so much joy because he’s next to you again. He’d know what your love felt like, how your body felt under his hands, how your skin felt under his lips. All these daydreams swirling in his head started to make him sick with want, and he needed to know at least one of them. He couldn’t handle all of them staying forever in his mind.

The tiniest increase of pressure from his lips brought your attention to where they rested below your collarbone. The almost kiss was so heartbreakingly shaky and hesitant that you felt your eyes burn with the threat of tears. To reassure him, you dragged your cheek across his temple before turning to leave a deliberate kiss there. Buggy relished the contact, the satisfied sigh you let out afterward, and the gentle weight of your cheek as you snuggled back into him. Your reward came in the form of a grinning cheek pushing into you.

All his humor and posturing certainly caught your attention in the best way and even his explosive temper was something you couldn’t say turned you away. This gentleness, though, this uncertain and wounded place, had you bursting with affection and you were hoping to keep experiencing it. You’d meet it each time with steady affection until it turned into something he embodied with the same surety that he had in his beloved spotlight.

Both of you slipped more sweetly into dreams, curled up together as you were, and with more peace and ease than the years before had allowed. Neither of you would let the years to come be absent of this sweet treasure, either.

Next->

[katsukiizmoon]

bodyguard or bestfriend! katsuki who practically lives in your personal space, he's only "looking out for you" and "making sure you're okay" he definitely isn't dependent on feeling your warmth against him, he definitely doesn't get antsy when you're not near him, not at all

Second time writing this, tumblr ate it the first time 🥴 but no because I bet he leaves his shit there and then forgets.i have so many thoughts on this

Katsuki has practically raided every square inch of his apartment. He’s checked every basket, drawer, nook and cranny of the place— and he’s found four pair of boxers. Total.

There’s no way.

A frustrated groan leaves his lips when he notices missing sweatpants. His face twists into a scowl while he shoves the last of his dirty laundry into the washing machine. He snatches the detergent and tosses it in, pressing the button and turning on his heel.

He storms out of his apartment and shoves his keys into the door, locking it. And you know something’s off the moment he arrives. He huffs and puffs like he’s going to blow your house down. All the while, you sit perched on the couch with a basket of laundry and a no-brain-needed show on.

“I’m goin’ fucking insane.” Katsuki grits, carmine eyes peering into your ceiling.

You hum and toss a pair of panties into a nearby basket. A sigh leaves him as his chest sinks beneath the black tank top.

“You always are— but why now?” You raise a brow at his glare, resisting a snicker.

Your fingers lay purchase on a pair of his sweats. Effortlessly, you begin to fold and separate the rest of the laundry. Another pair of his sweats are in your hands as you pause to look at him.

“Searched the damn place top to bottom,” a sigh “- can’t find my shit. Got four pair of boxers. I’m losing it.” He grunts with an exasperated groan.

Katsuki peels his gaze from the ceiling to meet your own. You begin to chortle and snort.

The pair of sweatpants in your hands meet his face with a dull thud. Without thinking, katsuki yanks the offending fabric away and growls.

“Oí, asswipe-“ The second pair meets his face before he can finish and it takes all of three seconds for it to register.

“.. why d’you got my shit?” He takes a deep breath, just like his therapist told him to, trying not to jump to conclusions.

“You always leave your shit here— I’ve got an entire drawer. You’ve even got a toothbrush and face razor in my bathroom.” You challenge, holding up a pair of boxers you’ve just found in the basket.

Katsuki blinks. He has been over a lot. But it’s only because you can’t take care of yourself— you’d die! The blonde runs through memories of cup ramen and expired snacks in your fridge and pantry. His eyes roll.

“Well, I need my shit, brat.” He chooses to say instead.

You glance at the TV to see two of the girls arguing over what food to have at a party. Typical, there’s always that one bitch who wants fruit at a candy land themed party.

“Go for it, it’ll end up back here anyways-“ you chortle and toss a pair of clean boxers his way “-you’re over five days a week.”

Ruby orbs narrow, brows furrowing as he takes playful offense to your statement. A grin plasters across his face and he leans in.

“Wouldn’t have to if a certain shithead could take care of herself, now would i?” Katsuki taunts and assumes victory. He looks proud of himself.

Your brows shoot to your hairline and you laugh wildly. The task at hand half forgotten, fingers reaching into the basket to grab a random article of clothing and throw it at his head.

“Oh please, you come here for back rubs and head scratches.” The teasing tone of your voice has his eyes rolling. Hard.

Katsuki looks down at the fallen fabric and snorts. Big hands put the pink, scallop trim panties in the basket to your right while he formulates a good answer.

You’re not completely wrong.. but you can’t know that.

“Nah I c’mere cause’ you’ll get a scurvy if I don’t.” He lies, grabbing a towel to fold.

Banter continues on and off through the night. He talks shit on the show you’re watching but gets invested anyways. Like always. A plate of steaming curry is served for dinner and afterwards you show him to the stash of his items stored away in your bedroom.

He grumbles and flushes a peachy tone, throwing most of the items in his bag. He leaves two or three pairs, though.

You get lectured again on groceries even though he’s the one that cooks. And, now? There’s a grocery list on your fridge that says “k: bringing order on Monday” in not too-pretty handwriting.

Katsuki finds himself basking in the warmth of your hands later. Pretty fingers rub his taut muscles and tug at the roots of his hair. Nails drag up and down, up and down his shoulder and back casually. He’s out like a light in minutes.

He wakes up and chooses to ignore that he’s already left another set of clothing in your laundry basket.

[pixelscutz]

rewards - kenji sato nsfw oneshot ⊹₊ ⋆

warnings : nsfw,, anal,, head,, etc etc.. mature audiences !!

word count : 841

You’ve heard the rumors, Kenji Sato fucks like god when he’s happy, but fuck you have to expirence it yourself. The lights of the night sky blurs through your view as Kenji grabs your ass tightly while driving past all the cars. You grib onto his chest and slowly move down his to his abs, trying your best not to let you attemptions to win.

You hear a small chuckle and through a thick helmant you hear him say, “Not too fast sweetheart.” You whimper as a responsone, as he presses the pedel even harder, making you guys have a speed boost.

As he rushes up to his driveway, he takes off his helmet and flings it onto the floor while rushing up to the door with his keys. He unlocks it quickly, humming to himself. “Is this my reward?”

“For what?” You ask, following behind him, although you know damn well you promised you would let him do anything to you if he won his latest game.

“You know what.” Kenji says, as the door opens slowly, making a small creasing sound. He grabs your hips and pushes you into the home, closing the door and locking it.

“Give me a minute.” You say, rushing towards your closet, looking for a quick change of clothes. You change from a sweaty pair of sweatpants and a slim tank top into a pair of tiny shorts, and only your bra. You touch up your mascara quickly, and rub on some moisture into your arms.

“Really sweetheart? Touching up just for me?” You hear from across the room, a smug grin on Kenji’s face. You roll your eyes, get up your chair and walk towards Kenji, as he grabs your hip. “You asked for this.” He whispered into your ears, moving his hand up to the clasp of your bra. He presses his mouth softly onto your neck and inhales in, his hand moving back don’t to the end of your ass, picking you up and throwing you onto the bed. You squeak, “What was that for?”

Kenji gets on top of you, and gets close to your neck. “For not respecting me earlier.” You feel the heat of his breath onto your collarbone as he begins to kiss the area, slowly moving down. His hand grips onto your bra, slipping under the thin material and clipping onto your hard nipple. You moan as  response, as he moves down to your shorts. “This needs to come off.” he says.

“How needy,” You laugh, as he rolls his eyes and rips off the shorts. Kenji has seen you naked numerous times but the look of love and lust in his eyes makes you feel feral. His mouth grips onto the edge of your wet pussy, as he removes the panties with his tongue. He flicks your clit, smirking as you impulsively grip your hands onto his hair. He inserts his tongue into you, exploring areas all inside of you, as all you can do is moan in response. You're trying to hold yourself back, but you can't. It's too hard. “I might come.” You mutter quietly as Kenji removes his head between your thighs.

“We wouldn’t want that yet, now would we?” My hands travel down to his pants, unzipping the jeans as quickly as possible. You trail your hand down to the imprint of his dick, clearly throbbing at your touch. Has it ever been this hard?

“May I?” He whispers, looking from you below. You nod softly as he sinks himself fully inside of you. He starts out gently at first, with slow but deep strokes while gripping onto my tits. Every thrust makes him go faster and faster, and his hand rushes towards you clit, rubbing it softly. You cling onto him, closing your eyes and using every shred of your energy to not come.

“Such a good girl.” He says between each thrust. You can only whimper in response, gripping even tighter onto his shoulders. “I need you to ride me.” He says, slowing down himself, disappointing you.

“Really?” You groan as he lays himself back onto the bed, smirking up at you. “Come on sweetheart, I didn't go all day.” You slowly bring your legs between his abs and move down to his dick, sinking yourself into him, like a solved puzzle piece. You shut your eyes, trying not to tear up and you start going back and forth onto him, as he moans.

“Fuckk,” He says your name. You start to go a little faster and he grabs onto your breasts and the room is filled with moans and pants, the smell of sex emerging. “I’m gonna come, darling.”

“Please do,” You whisper, as you wait a few more seconds and feel a warm liquid come inside of you, making you extremely pleasured. You lay back, panting, while Kenji opens your leg and takes some of your very pale fluids and brings it to his mouth.

“Round two in a bit?”

[rubyclover]

I said I can’t write but if felt nice getting that other idea out of my head. So I wrote this and will post. Technically I started trying to write this like a month ago… Please ignore the constant switching between past and present tense. It’s something I never seem to notice until someone else points out where it is.

Prompt: Professionals hate him but he was right! [Adam] Heaven and Hell come to the realization that The First Man played a larger part in the three realms’ political/social ecosystem than they thought. His absence leaves a vacuum that Lute is unable to fill but she may not need to because Hell is solving the problem themselves… The Morningstar Family can’t run from this.

No ABetaO we expire like Adam~

Imagine that Adam dies, the hotel has never looked better, the residents have healed up and Charlie gets another TV appearance. Lucifer is even more depressed than before but hides it. Adam is gone She’s going to reveal Sir Pentious’ redemption with evidence that is NOT childishly scribbled on key cards. Instead of the interview taking place in the 666News studio it’s held outside the hotel. She will take questions, live, right after the interview. Katie Killjoy wants to give the public a chance to cause chaos for ratings, so she puts Charlie in a vulnerable position.

Things go great… for the first 20 minutes. The interview isn’t even half way done when someone from the crowd interjects after Charlie says ‘The Sinners have a better life now that the Exterminations are permanently canceled.’

That person’s voice is calm but still pissed as Hell. They fire back that no, Sinners don’t have an easier life now that the Exterminations are over. It’s worse! Charlie and the crowd perk up.

The voice moves to the front. They’re short with plain street clothes, hood up. It’s obvious they’re poor and at the bottom of Hell’s pecking order. A couple of Imps are with them equally disheveled and tired looking. The man goes on to point out some rather hard truths.

Thanks to the last Extermination, angelic steel has become a hot commodity. While uncommon right now, there’s a pipeline to obtain an angelic weapon. All you need is enough money. Carmilla Carmine doesn’t care about how her product is used after purchase.

‘Permanent Murder’ is a new trend on HellTube netting ridiculous profits. The main targets are vulnerable Sinners, usually the scared and alone new arrivals, Imps and Hellhounds. All killed by beautifully glowing angelic weapons.

Overlords are more formidable with these weapons so the chance of contractees escaping, like Angeldust, has become damn near impossible even if they destroyed their contract. Some desperate souls were happy with their messed up immortality. It gave them some hope, ‘at least I have a chance to turn things around eventually,’ but that pathetic security is gone.

The Exterminations kept said Overlords in check to a degree. They were more inclined to take care of their underlings because that guaranteed their safety. Now? Just get an angelic gun for all your troubles. Valentino is having a fucking field day.

The ‘permadeath’ toll for one year will be ten times the amount of one Extermination Day considering how much Hell’s citizens like to kill Sinners…

Not to mention, whole industries in Hell, from top to bottom, are starting to crash. Their purpose or sales revolved around the Exterminations. Some workers cannot afford to lose their job and have to sell their soul against their will.

Etcetcetc

As the man speaks Charlie is surprised to see heads nodding in agreement! Someone comments that they hadn’t seen their Sinner friend in a few days and tries not to panic while another face falls in the crowd and wrings their hands together. An Imp with curved horns standing beside a young Hellhound sweats profusely and starts to leave. Tension moves through the public. Not just the ones in front of the stage but also those watching TV.

Despite her best efforts Charlie cannot lift the crowd’s mood. She realizes prematurely revealing Sir Pentious’ redemption is the only way to salvage this growing disaster. Unfortunately the man’s timing is perfect because the second she opens her mouth he turns his anger on the Morningstars.

He calls out how much her family misrepresents themselves as rulers. They don’t do anything for Hell anymore. They spend most of their time fucking around while the Sinners suffer. The other Sins manage their rings and hellborn, not Lucifer or Lilith. All three of the Morningstars can’t truly understand human suffering yet they profess to know how to best handle it. With no idea what it means to be human yet they pass judgement on them.

The crowd becomes agitated and the Imps beside the man move closer to him. They aren’t trying to draw safety from the Sinner but are taking defensive positions. Charlie realizes this isn’t someone speaking up in the heat of the moment. This is a planned speech. He’s highjacking her broadcast!

She sees the Sinner clench his fists and feels herself start to sweat. Why was he saying any of that? Yes, life will be a bit hard at first but now everyone can come together and rebuild! There are so many possibilities available to The Pride Ring. It would improve lives. Change was always good they just had to be careful. Yet the stranger goes on.

He claims that Lucifer is a washed up angel that can’t comprehend mortality because of his maladaptive dreaming and pride, Lilith is apathetic to Sinners and wishes to aggravate Heaven no matter how much Hell will suffer and Charlie is so sheltered that she thinks PTSD can be solved by clapping and saying positive affirmations.

Little is known about the royal family but the stranger’s comments sway the crowd. The hotel’s original commercials got the time of day because of Charlie’s status, not because the facility had managed to accomplish anything. Lucifer barely appears at all even when large fights break out leveling half of Pentagram City. And Lilith? Missing for 7 years after riling up all of Hell multiple times, causing Heaven to start the Exterminations.

The stranger calls the hotel a disgusting joke. Calls out how Charlie is trying to ‘pass the buck’ over to Heaven. The Pride Ring’s actual rulers are Overlords and they make sure Sinners suffer and continue to act depraved whether they like it or not. Her family has the power to take control and lessen the city’s suffering but they don’t. Instead they play with their little pet project .

Why are they focusing on shipping problems elsewhere? There’s a better way to solve the pain and suffering at the source than waiting! Fix Pentagram City! Show Heaven that the current number of Sinners isn’t a threat!

‘For all the crying and sniveling you do Princess Charlotte, you sure don’t actually help where it counts! I’m sure you care about Sinners but only on the same level as someone cares about cute public park ducks.’

Vaggie, who had been standing to the side of the stage leaps forward, places herself in between the stranger and her girlfriend. Everyone’s raised emotions have put her on edge. She ignores the harsh gasps when her angelic spear slides free and into her hands. ‘Back up! Now!’

Charlie’s heart sank at the escalation. She understood her girlfriend was still tense from the extermination but all their hard work was starting to fray around the edges! She just hoped her dad didn’t-

The King of Hell himself appears through a portal shortly after gathering himself together. The opening looked angrier in color, matching his mood. Sickly green lines run throughout the glow, radiating blistering heat. Parts of the stage began to melt and the forgotten camera crew swivel to their ruler. Lucifer’s face is set in stone but his bright flickering eyes give him away.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ He snarls, apple topped cane slamming onto the stage causing some of it to splatter. ‘How dare you speak to my daughter that way.’ Lucifer’s face morphs into a more demonic grimace. Katie Killjoy scrambles from her chair and off the stage at the same time as Charlie vaulting up to place a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder whispering ‘dad no!’ She doesn’t want the hotel’s improved reputation to evaporate. A confrontation with someone on live TV would scare people away!

Lucifer growls in the back of his throat, looking at where he assumes the bastard’s eyes are under his hood. Smoke and embers sizzle out from the corner of his mouth and inbetween teeth. He hated acting this way but he had an image to uphold. ‘Answer your King you wretch. Don’t confuse my inaction with benevolence. You’re testing my patience!’

After a beat or two of staring each other down the stranger has the gall to ‘tsk’ off to the side as if spitting. ‘As you with your majesty. It’s all fine by me.’ A small, scared hand reaches up and whips off the dirty hood exposing his face to all of Hell.

People instantly whip out their phones. His face is shockingly similar to Lucifer’s, in fact a basic carbon copy sans a few attributes.

Cameras catch alabaster skin and soft, blond, curly hair, short, wiry build, vivid green eyes, pale coral cheek markings, pointed ears and four demon wings the same color as his skin.

Leaf green eyes stair directly into Charlie’s while electing to ignore both fallen angels. He stands ramrod straight. Cutting a regal silhouette despite the filth on his body and clothes.

‘My name is Cain Adamson, The Wandering Star.’ He bows in a fashion Charlie hadn’t seen in all her galas. ‘Lucifer Morningstar’s first born and bastard son. It’s nice to finally meet you sister mine… I’ll be taking your family’s crown for my father.’

[So in this AU Cain rescued Adam’s body and resuscitated it. They had a familial bond even when Cain got banished for murdering Able and found out his bio dad was Lucifer. Eve didn’t pay much attention to her first born out of guilt so Adam stepped up. No one shamed her. Adam never felt like Cain was separate from his other kids even though he looked nothing like him. Now Cain wants to provide for his father who’s trapped in hell and in really bad condition by booting the Morningstars out of power in the Pride Ring.] Dunno about pairing but Adamsapple or Guitarhero would be a safe bet. Either way Lucifer will suffer lol

[wtf do I call this? Family Feud AU? Chessboard AU? Secret Brother AU? Idk h e l p ]

[octuscle]

Hey, support! So I’m Gus and there’s this really handsome muscle daddy at this marine research center I work at and I want to get him to notice me. He’s really into beefy, well-dressed himbos with nice facial hair and big pecs. Could you help me out please? I don’t want to be too dumb cuz I really want to keep this job, but you can change me however else within what would be his type.

Chronivac is currently experiencing a few technical problems. But I've heard about this tanning salon. “Magic sunbed”. Ask for sunbed 2. 20 minutes should be enough. Definitely no more. Otherwise I can't guarantee anything.

Bekim has had a shit day so far. The turnover isn't right, his boss has given him a telling off. You're only the second customer. He greets you like an old friend. Couch 2 is free. Special offer for today only and for new customers: 30 minutes for a surcharge of just 10 percent and the special lotion at half price. Bekim explains that 20 minutes is basically useless. The skin only tans after 20 minutes. A lot helps a lot, you think. You've never been to a tanning salon before. The staff will know what they're doing.

You go into cabin 2, strip off and rub yourself with lotion. The lotion stinks. You look for an expiration date. Obviously still good for over a year. Then the smell of musk, sweat and sperm must be… Should you leave your underpants on now? Or take them off? To be on the safe side, you undress completely and lie down on the couch. You look for a switch to start the process. You are struck by lightning. It gets light, it gets warm. You close your eyes and try to sleep.

Sleep is out of the question. It's so hot. You're lying in a puddle of sweat. And the stench of the lotion is getting worse. So more intense… You don't actually find it bad any more. More like… Exciting. Your cock is getting hard. You start to wank. Your colleague from the lab in front of you. You can literally feel him running his fingers through your beard and pulling down your dungarees to suck your nipples on your monstrous pecs… Wait a minute! Dungarees? No, lab coat. Right? Never mind, your cock is almost bumping into the top shell of the tanning bed. Your balls are bursting. And then you shoot a geyser out of your cock. A fountain forms three or four times. And soon you're lying in a puddle of sweat and cum. Shit, you could have saved yourself the lotion…

The tanning process ends as abruptly as it started. Cold and dark. The upper bowl slowly rises. Shit, there's only the towel, which is far too small as always. But where are your things? “Yo, Bekim, where the heck are my clothes at?” you shout. Bekim knocks and brings you your dungarees, jockstrap, socks and work boots. The submissive pig couldn't resist wearing your clothes. You noticed he had a crush on you months ago when he started working here. You were one of his first customers. And then you became a regular customer. Shit, he was so excited, he did everything wrong. Well, today he's one of the old hands here. And somehow a buddy of yours. As long as the clothes are neatly laid out and not full of wax, it's okay if he lives out his fetish during your tanning session. Bekim wants to suck you off as a thank you. “Next time, Buddy,” you say. You have to go back to the lab. Your pager has already beeped four times. Some damn ventilation system isn't working as it should.

Bekim is like, the top dude of all time. He's not just about making sure your tanning bed is always ready for your regular sessions. He also hooks you up with the good stuff so your biceps stay swole and your nuts stay juiced. That's how the guy at the Marine Research Center where you work likes it. He's a real muscle daddy. And he's into his dumb janitor hoe.

[peachesofteal]

Simon praising Darling for being a good girl when she announces she’s pregnant 😮‍💨 like I’m sorry sir, who gave you the right to be so damn hot when you’re FICTIONAL?!

And Darling is just confused af about wtf he means. Like does she ever find out they fucked with her BC and knocked her up?? I must know, I must have more 😈🤭

He's like, 'you've done so well, darling' and she's like 'wait, what the fuck just happened?'

AU - not canon for Dead Disco Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief mention of smut, mature themes. Angst. Vomiting. Doctors. Pregnant reader. Relationship issues. Dark themes.

"I've got ya." Johnny coos while he rubs your back where you are kneeling over the toilet, breakfast and bile coming up your throat with every other heave.

"I hate this." you moan between pants, propping your arm up to rest your head. He clucks his tongue, standing to run a cloth under the sink and returning to press it to your forehead gently. It's cold, and soft, and moving in easy circles.

"I know, darling. I know." You push away, slumping into his arms, letting him cuddle you close while he leans back against the bathroom wall and you count his heartbeats from where your head lays on his chest.

The door creaks open, and Simon's halfway inside, peering down at the two of you, mild concern in his eyes while he studies your slouching form.

"Third time today." He notes with a frown, and you nod. They count, keep track of everything, so they can recall it for your doctor's visits and make sure everything is still within 'normal' range. Morning sickness, your doctor has assured them too many times to count, is very normal.

"Morning sickness, the nausea, vomiting, is all normal."

"She's sick multiple times a day." Simon grits out. Johnny shifts his weight nervously, while you sigh and pat his hand comfortingly.

"If we were seeing drastic weight loss, or the panels were coming back outside of normal range, I would be concerned. But that's not happening. So, you've nothing to worry about." You give her a relieved smile, and hope they'll actually listen this time, although you know it's kind of pointless. "So," she claps her hands, and then motions to the table, and Johnny visibly brightens. This is everyone's favorite part, the ultrasound. You always glue your eyes to the screen, holding you breath to see the baby, the little blob in black and grey, your own little bean. You're obsessed with the sound of the heartbeat, taking comfort in its strength, its steadiness. So much so you bought a fetal doppler, just so you could all hear it at home. "Should we take a peek?"

"I'm fine." you assure him, holding a hand out. "Help me up." He grips you by your elbow, pulling you to your feet and into him briefly, so he can nuzzle his nose into your hair with a deep breath. "Now get out, I'm gross. Need to wash my face." You insist, pushing both him and Johnny into the hallway playfully before closing the door.

You have a lot of drawers, in this bathroom. Almost all of them actually, and most of them are a bit of a mess, unorganized, things strewn about. Sometimes, like now, you have to dig around for things. You're looking for something specific, a heavier moisturizer, one that can combat some of the dryness around your nose. Your fingers flip through tubes and tubs and creams, old mascara and half busted hair clips. You tsk, irritated that you're having a hard time finding the blue jar, until-

Your fingers brush against your old birth control pack. Encased in a cream colored piece of plastic, little pills lined up in a row. Just the sight of it frustrates you. After so many years, it finally failed. Finally let you down.

You don't know, but you pull it out. Maybe to look at it closer, to see if it will be expired by the time you finally need it again, or maybe, just to look at the thing that was your one constant since you were practically a child.

Either way. You study it closer, and that's how you notice the corner of the pill tray. The little foil piece on the corner is lifted, just a smidge, just enough for you not to notice, but when you peel it, it comes away so easily, so perfectly, with minimal adhesive. Like's it been pulled away before and put back in place. Like it's been moved.

When you realize, the floor room spins. It shudders around you, bathroom walls curving closer and closer to where you stand in front of the sink, eyes wide, dumbfounded. They wouldn't. They wouldn't. Would they? You blink at yourself in the mirror. You look, tired, but mostly healthy, a true testament to absolute hovering that has been occurring in your life over the past five months. You never lift a finger, you don't want for anything.

Because you're pregnant.

Because you're pregnant, with their baby, that you thought you got knocked up with on accident.

Your stomach curdles. They did this on purpose. Your fingers clench against the stone of the sink while you remember, all those nights when they pressed you to the mattress and made you see stars, while they filled you with their come over and over, every day. They were actively trying. They wanted this. A giant black hole rips open inside of you. It sucks your joy, your happiness, your dreams of future into it immediately. It dismantles everything you thought you knew as truth, takes a hammer and smashes apart every single second of the last five months.

They took your choice away. You stomach flips, and the you’re flinging yourself back in front of the toilet, bile spewing on your lips while you dry heave. It burns, the sting matching the sear of the tears that track down your face.

How could they do this?

[advisorykitty]

Rock,Paper,Siccors ᴿᵒᵇᵉʳᵗ ᵀᵃᵏᵉᵘᶜʰⁱˣᴿᵃᵗʷᵒᵐᵃⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ╭──────┄°❀°┄──────╮

╰──────┄°❀°┄─────╯

The cramped walls of the Ivory Household were filled with the sounds of the ratmen arguing, the space dimly lit and cluttered with scavenged bits of food. As the only female ratperson, you often found yourself at the center of their chaos—though usually not intentionally. Being the smallest of the group didn’t help, either.

"Alright," Robert drawled, leaning against a dusty wall, arms crossed. He was nonchalant as always, but there was an edge to him—like he always knew more than he let on. "We're playing rock-paper-scissors to see who’s going out to find food."

You stood at the back of the group, blinking slowly. “Right... so, what again?”

Michael Jr., the ever-sweet second ratman, smiled brightly at you, his childish nature showing. “It’s easy, [Y/N]! We all throw rock, paper, or scissors. Whoever loses has to go scavenging.”

The others—Final Fantasy-Kun, Cinimmon De Smith, and Cheeseburger—nodded in agreement, already prepared for the game.

You nodded along, though you still didn’t completely get it. You had played this game before and always, without fail, picked rock. It was sturdy, reliable—why wouldn’t you pick it? But that habit had yet to bring you any success.

The group gathered in a small circle, hands ready. “One, two, three—go!” they called out, all throwing their respective hands.

You, as expected, picked rock.

Cinimmon sighed loudly. “Seriously? She did it again.”

Final Fantasy-Kun smirked. “Guess we know who’s getting dinner tonight.”

You blinked, glancing around. “Wait… did I lose?”

Robert’s smirk widened just a bit as he pushed himself off the wall. “Yeah, [Y/N], you lost. Get going.”

You pouted a little but nodded. “Alright, I’ll be back with food.”

The others waved you off, probably glad they weren’t the ones who had to leave the safety of the Ivory Household. As you slipped through the small rat hole that led to the main part of the mansion, you hummed softly to yourself, your mind drifting in that usual, airy way.

---

The halls of the Ivory Household were eerie, cold, and quiet. The air felt more dense as you wandered in search of food. The house, which frankly looked really odd, felt weirdly like a maze; you had sworn you saw that stain on the uncanny wallpaper a dozen times!

Still, you were determined to find something to bring back—hopefully something that wasn’t stale bread or expired canned goods this time.

As you rounded a corner, you froze. A tall figure stood at the end of the hallway, his presence unmistakably menacing. He wore a black shirt that said "NEVADA," his posture relaxed but his eyes glowing with something darker. His gaze locked onto you, and you could feel the air shift.

A smile crept onto your face. “Kitty!” you called out, far too cheerfully for the situation.

The man—no, the catman—raised a brow, his expression twisting into one of irritation. “What did you just call me?”

“Kitty,” you repeated, your tone innocent, as though he were some stray cat you had found. “You look fluffy, like a kitty.”

Nyen growled lowly, taking a step closer. His claws twitched at his sides, ready to spring into action. “I’m not a kitty, you little pest!” he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

You didn’t flinch, still smiling at him. “Well, you look like one.”

His patience snapped. In an instant, Nyen lunged at you, claws out, swiping toward your face. You barely had time to react, stumbling backward as his sharp nails tore through the fabric of your clothes, grazing your skin.

“Ow!” you yelped, clutching at the shallow scratch. “What was that for?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nyen snarled, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. “Do you think you can just stroll around here like you own the place? Calling me a damn kitty?” Each word was a threat, and he leaned in closer, his predatory glare sending chills down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but even in the face of his aggression, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel fear. Instead, you were more confused than anything. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just being friendly.”

His lip curled in disgust. “Friendly? You rats are always crawling around here, thinking you’re so clever. What the hell is wrong with you?”

It finally occurred to you that you were in serious danger.

Without a second thought, you bolted down the corridor, heading to what looked like a kitchen, swiping a few things in the short time you had.

You sprinted down the hall, clutching the stolen goods in your arms—a loaf of fresh bread, a jar of pickled vegetables, and a half-wrapped slab of cheese that you’d managed to swipe from the pantry. It was a bit of a hasty grab, but you figured it would keep you and the others fed for a while.

The bread was still warm, its soft crust slightly squished against your chest as you ran, while the jar of pickles clinked loudly in your arms, making you wince with every step. You'd almost dropped the cheese when you first grabbed it, but now you held onto it tightly, the waxy wrapping slipping slightly in your grip.

Not exactly the most discreet of hauls, but you’d been in too much of a panic to care about being subtle.

---

The halls of the Ivory Household echoed with your hurried footsteps, heart pounding in your chest as you clutched a loaf of bread and a couple of apples—your prize for losing yet another round of rock-paper-scissors.

You hadn’t meant to steal, not exactly. The pantry had been sitting there, the food practically begging you to take it, especially since you were the one sent out to scavenge. But after the encounter with Nyen—the snarling catman with the deadliest glare—you knew you had to bolt.

He hadn’t been happy when you’d called him “kitty,” and from the way he lunged at you, you figured staying to chat wasn’t in your best interest. So, with your loot hugged tightly to your chest, you dashed through the maze of hallways, trying to find a way back to your rat hole.

The air was heavy with tension, the sound of Nyen’s rapid footsteps echoing somewhere close behind. You needed to get away—and fast. You rounded a corner, only to collide headfirst into a broad chest, sending you stumbling back.

The figure before you was another catman, though this one was different—softer, less imposing than Nyen. He blinked down at you, his sherbet pink eyes wide and startled, his hat sitting crooked atop his head.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you squeaked, trying to gather your stolen goods while stammering an apology. “I didn’t mean to bump into you. I—uh—was just leaving!”

Nyon looked confused, tilting his head as if processing your words. His Russian accent was thick when he finally spoke, his English slow and broken. “It... okay. You... run?”

You opened your mouth to respond but froze when a voice behind you roared, dripping with venom. “Fucking traitor!”

It was Nyen. He had caught up. His heavy boots thudded against the floor as he stormed toward you, eyes ablaze with fury. “Move, Nyon! That little rat stole from us!”

Nyon, however, remained still, his eyes darting between you and Nyen. He didn’t look like he wanted any part in whatever was going on, his nervousness visible in the way his hands fidgeted by his sides.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” you whispered frantically to Nyon, inching back slowly, hoping Nyen wouldn’t slice you up on the spot.

Nyen’s patience snapped. “Get the hell out of my way, Nyon!” He shoved past Nyon with an intensity that sent the poor guy stumbling, and in a last-ditch attempt to escape, you bolted in the opposite direction, hearing Nyen’s enraged footsteps thundering behind you.

Your lungs burned as you sprinted, mind racing. You needed a plan—a way out.

“Robert! Robert, help!” you called out, voice high-pitched and desperate, hoping your fellow ratman would come to your rescue.

As if on cue, a small rat hole in the wall near the floor cracked open just ahead. Robert’s face appeared, his usual calm expression tinged with mild annoyance. “Get in, [Y/N],” he grumbled, motioning for you to hurry.

Without hesitation, you dived into the rat hole, squeezing your small frame through just as Robert slid the makeshift door shut behind you. You could hear Nyen’s frustrated shout on the other side, his fist pounding against the wall.

"Fucking rats," Nyen spat, but he didn’t dare follow. He knew better than to crawl into the confined spaces where ratmen thrived.

Panting and covered in dust, you leaned against the wall of the narrow passage, clutching your stolen food to your chest. Robert, as always, seemed unbothered, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“You really have a knack for finding trouble,” he said, his tone flat.

You offered him a sheepish smile, still catching your breath. “It wasn’t my fault! I didn’t know that Kitty—uh, catman—was going to chase me.”

Robert shot you a look, unimpressed. “You called him ‘kitty,’ didn’t you?”

You winced. “Well, he looks like a kitty.”

Robert sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Look, just stay out of his way. And next time, when we say ‘don’t wander off,’ we mean it.”

You nodded, biting into the bread you’d snatched from the pantry. “Thanks, Robert. You’re always looking out for me.”

He waved you off. “Yeah, yeah, just try not to get killed next time. We’re running out of rat holes to hide you in.”

Despite his gruff demeanor, there was something almost protective in the way he watched over you. You couldn’t help but feel a little more secure knowing Robert had your back—even if he’d never admit it out loud.

The pounding on the wall eventually faded as Nyen gave up, probably stalking back to brood somewhere in the shadows of the house. As you munched on the bread, you couldn’t help but wonder if Nyon had understood anything that just happened. But then again, maybe it was better if he didn’t.

As the tension faded, Robert sighed. “Next time, don’t be so stupid.”

You grinned, taking the insult as praise instead. “I’ll try my best!”

A small smile tugged Roberts lips.

[harveywritings92]

{Slasher au (feat. König x reader x Ghost) In the woods of that border an old abandoned factory two figures run in the dark, their gasps for air and frantic footfalls echo throughout the dark forest, when they find an old security booth, they duck inside and hide.]

R/n, wincing as she looks down at he arm that has a large knife in it: *whispering* f-Fuck!

Random dude, reaches to help her.: Is it bad-

R/n, recoiling from his touch: j-just check if it’s safe…

[The guy complies and sits up to check outside, in the few seconds he’s distracted, R/n calmly removes the knife from her arm and hands it off the to the large silent figure standing behind her…]

Random dude, sits back down: H-Hey..I-I think we might’ve lost th- {turns to look at R/n} -*gasp*

[The guy is horrified when he sees the giant man in the hood sitting next to him, before rando has time to react the killer buries his knife into the stunned man’s gut! The man seems to expire. The giant gets up turns his attention toward R/n; Who shrinks back under his gaze. König starts approaching her reaching his hand out, but before he can grab her, a hand suddenly grabbed his leg! The man was still alive and trying to play hero...He hisses at R/n to runaway! When another large figure in a skull mask appeared behind König.]

Ghost, growling: Don’t touch what’s mine...

[The man’s eyes widened in horror as a large steel toed boot came down on his head crushing it and killing him for good... The two killers then turn their attention back to R/n whose nervous demeanor changed to annoyed in seconds.]

R/n: Oy, you guys are so messy, Look at your clothes, It’s gonna take me hours to patch them up.

Ghost, annoyed :…Hrm

R/n: what? (realizing they’re staring at her arm.) Oh, the whole jumping in front of your knife thing, Sorry. I had make it look realistic.

König, reaching for her arm: Does it hurt- (Ghost slaps his hand.)

Ghost: Don’t touch it with your gloves all bloody, ya git!

R/n, putting her hands up: Hey, hey don’t start fighting now. It not as bad as it looks...

Ghost, hearing Sirens in the distance: I’ll be the judge of that, let’s get outta here before the damn bobbies show up! 

König: Right, *to R/n* Hase here.  

{König takes a Bunny mask out from his jacket hands it to her, R/n puts it on and the three disappear into the night.] (König and Ghost are killers, R/n is their lover who helps them by pretending to be a lost girl in the woods to lure unsuspecting explorers into their trap.)

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - Epilogue

One final part of the story to wrap it all up!

Series Master List

Warnings have their own post - Word count: 21.6k (I regret nothing!)

Eight years later

It was the first time since last year you were able to come this far out from Jackson. The snow had been thick on the ground since November, and any patrols this far from Jackson had been postponed until the spring. But even your corner of Wyoming had finally been graced with warm weather and sunshine, the snow melting rapidly, making it crucial for patrols to go further out to make sure there were no threats closing in on your ever growing community. 

Maria and the board had made the right decision when they’d sent you and six experienced men and women this far down the valley. You’d come across a gang of raiders on an abandoned farm after spotting the corpses of two travelers in a ravine. The travelers had been ambushed and all their possessions, including their boots, had been taken from them. Martha, a woman a few years younger than you, was one of the best trackers in Jackson, and she’d picked up the raiders’ trail quick enough. The ensuing attack on their camp had been brutal and swift, leaving the four men dead in minutes. You left the bodies where they fell, as a warning to anyone who came near Jackson. 

Now you and two of the men in your patrol are up on a ridge, surveying the area, looking for signs of travelers or infected. You’d left Frankie at home this morning, with strict instructions to not leave the bed unless it was to pee. He’d stumbled home early yesterday afternoon from his guard shift, shivering under his heavy coat and coughing loudly enough to wake Benny and Eve’s dog across the street. It didn’t take you long to realize that he was running a fever, either a flu or a bad cold. Either way, it had knocked him out for the rest of the evening and he was still drowsy when you left him in bed with a jug of water, sandwiches and a couple of precious, and long since expired, paracetamols. 

You’re used to going on patrol without Frankie these days. It was easier if one of you stayed at home with Jack when he was little, and it felt like you were tempting fate if you both left. Patrols were not as dangerous as they had been in the early days of Jackson, but they still posed a certain risk. You breathed a sigh of relief whenever Frankie returned safely, even if nothing had happened to any of you in years, life was never without risk. But these days Jackson was an imposing enough structure to deter any raiders that came close by, and the patrols that went out were well equipped, well armed and large enough in numbers to handle almost anything. 

The other four in your patrol had split up and followed trails that led away from the farm, looking for any raiders that might’ve gotten away. You hear one of them approach through the underbrush now, calling out a greeting before you see the man. 

“Hey Elijah, did you find anyone?” you ask the dark haired man that appears between the fresh green birch trees. 

“Yeah, but not a raider I think, you’d better come see him,” he replies, pointing over his shoulder. You leave the two men with you up on the ridge and follow Elijah down the narrow trail. 

“What makes you say he’s not a raider?” 

“He’s all beaten up, looks pretty rough, and he’s got a badly sprained ankle,” Elijah says, guiding his horse down through the forest. “Says he got it running from the raiders, fell off a cliff trying to get away from them. And he sure as hell look as if he fell off a clip, all cut and bruised, clothes torn, the man’s a mess.” 

“Was he armed?” 

“No, he has an empty knife sheath on his belt, but no supplies, no bag, nothing on him.”

“Huh, maybe he’s telling the truth then,” you hum, “How did you find him?” 

“Cain sniffed him out, he was hiding in a small hunting cabin, I think he thought we were the raiders, looked pretty damn scared when we kicked the door in.” 

“Did Cain clear him? He’s not infected?” 

“Na, he’s clean for that at least,” Elijah says and nodded towards the small cabin you were approaching, “Kieran’s inside with him.” 

You both dismount and tie your horses to a tree before stepping into the house. It’s really just a shed, a tiny hunting cabin built just to give shelter for a night or two with a small window and an old wood fired stove in the corner, almost rusted all the way through now. On the floor, leaning against the back wall, is a man about your age with black hair. He’s wiping his hand gingerly over his check where the blood from a sharp cut is starting to clot, and he holds his other hand protectively against his chest. The dark jeans are torn in several places and you can see scrapes and scratches through the ripped denim. The light in the cabin is dim and when you step in through the door he looks up at you, squinting against the light from the open door. It takes your brain a few long moments to catch up, to place the face, but then your jaw drops. 

“Tommy?” 

Tommy blinks a couple of times, his eyes widening with surprise, “Holy shit….” he gasps, “I thought you were dead!” 

You shake your head as you take a few steps forward and kneel down in front of the man, taking in more of him, he really looks terrible. 

“I think I’m more alive then you are, Tommy Miller,” you say, taking a closer look at him, “you really do look like you fell off a cliff.” 

“You know this guy?” The tone of surprise in Kieran’s voice reflects your own feelings at stumbling across Tommy in a small Wyoming hunting cabin. 

“Yeah, since way back,” you reply, giving Tommy a smile and he seems to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“I think I have about a hundred questions,” he says with a grin, but he winces as he shifts his weight against the wall and you hold up your hand. 

“Let us fix your ankle first, and your hand too I think right?” 

Tommy nods and you ask Kieran for the first aid kit. Tommy grimaces as you carefully pull off the boot on his right foot and peel back his sock. The ankle is swollen and starting to turn purple and you make Tommy move his toes for you. 

“We’ll get you back to Jackson, that’s our town, and have the doctor check on it, but I don’t think it’s broken. I’ll just wrap it up tight for now,” you say, “KIeran, could you see if we can get Tommy up on Aggy, she should be able to carry both me and Tommy, you can take Argento back.” 

Kieran nods and steps back outside as you open the bag and take out the elastic bandage. 

“What about…Frankie?” Tommy asks, hesitating in his question and you smile. 

“He’s good, back home sick as a dog at the moment with a man-cold, but he’s good,” you say, “we both made it and we’re still here, still married,” you grin, starting to wrap his ankle. 

“I always wondered what happened to you two,” he says, “you just disappeared after Pope died, no one knew where you were,”  Tommy looks up at you and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. 

“Joel didn’t tell you?” you ask, securing the bandage with a small knot. 

“What? He didn’t tell me anything,” Tommy looks confused and you sit back on your heels, perplexed. 

“Huh, I thought for sure he’d tell you…Joel helped us, me and Frankie, to get out of the QZ when we left. I told him to not say anything to Benny and Will, but I thought he’d tell you.”

“Will and Benny left with Diana and Eve a few years ago too,” he says, “I’m guessing now you had something to do with that too?” 

You give Tommy a crooked grin, “Yeah, that was us, and I’m happy to report that they’re all in Jackson too, all doing well. Benny and Eve even had a baby two years ago,” you smile and now it’s Tommy’s turn to look surprised. 

“I feel like I’ve missed something important….” he says and you put your hand out to him. 

“I’ll tell you everything on the way home, come on.” 

Kieran’s got Aggy, a large and steady mare, standing outside as you help Tommy to limp through the door. Together you and Kieran get him up on her back and then you mount her too, sitting in front of Tommy. 

“I’m going to assume a Texas boy like you knows how to stay on a horse?” you ask as you gently nudge Aggy forward. 

“Yeah, but it’s been a while,” he says, hooking his good arm around your waist. 

“I wanna ask you about why you’re here,” you say in a low voice, “but I don’t know if you maybe wanna save that story for later?” 

“Uuh…” Tommy hesitates, “yeah, maybe, but what makes you think I don’t wanna talk about it now?” 

“Because you and Joel were inseparable, and now you’re out here alone,” you say, looking over your shoulder at him, “so either something happened between you, or…something happened to him.” 

“Yeah…” Tommy begins but trails off, watching the forest give way to open land, “he’s not dead, as far as I know, but I left him in Boston.” 

“Ok,” you say, letting the subject rest. You’re relieved to hear that Joel isn’t anywhere near Wyoming, you still haven’t forgiven him for what happened to Frankie, even if it was inadvertent. You don’t want him anywhere near Frankie ever again. 

You tell Tommy about Jackson instead, filling him in on how you all ended up there, reluctantly telling him about the radio tower. It’s rarely used, only when someone wants to find a lost relative or loved one, but you leave that part out. 

“There’s Jackson, right up ahead,” you say, pointing across the open plain in front of the main gate that’s looming in the distance. “We all have guard duty, either on the wall or out on patrol, like I was today.” 

“You get a lot of people out here?” he asks, looking up at the wall as you ride closer. 

“In the beginning there were raiders who attacked from time to time, but I think we’ve wiped out any raiders in the area. If any come close, I think they choose to leave us alone, we’re too strong now, haven’t had an attack in years.” 

“What about infected?” Tommy glances over at Cain who’s running alongside Kieran’s horse. 

“Yeah, sometimes, we still have to be careful. But we’re starting to figure out how they move with the seasons,” you say, “and in the winter they’re as snowed in as we are.” 

You ride through the gate, waving to the guards, and carry on down the street towards the clinic. Diana runs it these days, with Eve as one of the nurses, and they spot you as you stop Aggy outside and slide off. Eve comes out first, wiping her hands and squinting up at Tommy with a professional eye and not recognizing him with his cuts and bruises. 

“You look pretty banged up,” she says, “let’s get you checked in and we’ll clean you up.”

“Eve,” you smile, “it’s Tommy Miller, from Boston, Benny’s cousin.” 

Tommy gives an awkward wave as you help him slide off Aggy to land unsteadily on one leg. Eve stares at him in confusion as Diana comes out behind her to see what the new patient needs. 

“Tommy?” she gasps, taking two long steps forward and staring at him with such intensity that he chuckles, holding on to you for balance. 

“Surprise,” he grins, holding out a hand dramatically and Eve giggles, finally finding herself again as she pulls him into a hug. 

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” 

“Long story,” Tommy begins and you cut him off. 

“You’ve got a badly twisted ankle and a sprained wrist, save the story for after Diana has done her thing, please.” 

“Yeah, reunion later, let’s get you taken care of,” Diana says, going into doctor mode, “But it’s good to see you, Tommy. Benny and Will are going to be really happy to have you here.” 

You leave Tommy with Diana and Eve, and take Aggy to the stable before you go and find Benny and Will. They were on patrol too today and should be back already, and you find them both at Benny and Eve’s house, with Benny’s daughter Lily. Benny is feeding her with mixed success while Will watches from across the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, chuckling at his brother’s attempts at convincing the two year old to eat mashed peas. 

“Hi,” you say as you step in after knocking, smiling at Lily who gives you a big grin, pushing her dad’s hand away again.

“Hey, how was the patrol?” Will asks and you can’t help your wide grin. 

“You’ll never guess who I found,” you chuckle as both men look up at you, “Tommy Miller.” 

“What?!” Benny stands up so fast Lily gets scared and immediately starts crying, “our Tommy?” 

“How many ‘Tommy Miller’ do you know, Benny?” you laugh, “Yeah, the one and only. He’s got a sprained ankle and is at the clinic with Diana and Eve. I wanted to let you know so we can go over there straight away.” 

Will is halfway to the door already and Benny quickly picks up Lily, her peas forgotten. 

“How did he end up out here?” Will asks as he pulls on his boots. 

“I don’t know yet, I didn’t know if he wanted to tell the whole story in front of people he doesn’t know, Kieran and Elijah were with me on the patrol.” You take Lily from Benny as he gets his shoes on and the four of you leave the house, walking towards the clinic. 

“He did tell me that Joel is still in Boston, or at least he was when he left. We found him in a small cabin and he’s been pretty banged up. He said he was running from raiders when he fell off a cliff and hurt his ankle.” 

“Shit, he’s lucky to be alive,” Will says, taking long strides and you have to jog to keep up with the two tall men. You soon reach the clinic and walk inside to find Eve manning the small desk set up just inside. Lily immediately reaches for her mom and you hand her over. 

“He’s in the first exam room with Diana,” Eve says as Benny gives her a quick kiss and you follow Will and his brother down the short hallway. The door to the room is open and Will gives the door frame a quick knock before he steps inside with Benny in tow.

“Shit, it really is you!” Benny exclaims as Will takes a few quick steps over to Tommy and gives him a big hug. 

“Man, so good to see you, but how the fuck did you find us all the way out here? Will chuckles and gives Tommy a careful clap on the shoulder before Benny steps in and hugs him. 

“Long fucking story,” Tommy grins, slapping away Benny’s hand as he ruffles Tommy’s long curls. 

“You need a haircut, cuz, how long have you been on the road for?” 

“I lost count, what month are we in now?” Tommy shakes his head and sighs, the grin slipping from his face. 

“May 8th,” Will says, “spring was late this year.” 

“Shit, May already?” Tommy says, rubbing his good hand over his face, “Let’s see, I left Boston March last year, I joined the Fireflies about two years before then, I just had to do something about the way things were going, the QZ is grim,” he grimaces, “and then a group of us transferred to Pittsburgh and from there to Kansas City.” 

“Why’d you leave Joel behind? Will asks and Tommy glances at him before he drops his eyes. 

“You know Joel, how he is after Sarah. He believes in nothing, doesn’t think there’s any point to anything. I couldn’t live like that, so I joined the Fireflies so that I could make a difference at least and Joel didn’t agree with it. Called them a bunch of delusional idiots who were going to get themselves killed, we had a big fight about it,” Tommy sighs again and shakes his head, “It got nasty, we didn’t speak much the last year I was in Boston.” 

“He still smuggling?” Benny asks and Tommy nods. 

“Yeah, he and Tess, risking their lives every time they leave the QZ. They live together now, or they did when I left. I thought maybe she’d soften him a bit but…I don’t know…” Tommy shrugs and looks at you, you’ve furrowed your brow at the mention of Tess’s name, “she’s as broken as he is and she calls the shots, Joel’s her muscle.” 

“He hasn’t changed then?” you ask, still standing at the door, and Tommy shakes his head. “If you’re asking if he still deals drugs, yeah, he does, and he still uses them,” Tommy shakes his head again, “I miss him, he’s my brother, but I had to get away from him.” 

“So what happened to make you leave Kansas City?” Will asks. 

“The Fireflies were setting up a base out in Salt Lake City and I got sent there. But…I guess I was starting to see where Joel was coming from,” Tommy shrugs and looks at Will, “the Fireflies weren’t making any difference, you know? Just creating more violence in the QZ’s, so I was trying to find a way to leave them on the way out to Utah. But then we got attacked by raiders. A few of us got away but they were hunting us, I got caught by one of them and he beat me up a bit. But I managed to knock him out and ran, didn’t stop running for hours I think. And then I fell down that fucking cliff and busted my ankle and wrist,” Tommy waves his bandaged arm and gives a crooked grin, “And I thought I was really done for it when two guys with a huge dog turned up and sniffed me out, but then she walks in, I was sure I was hallucinating.” 

You can’t help but smile, Tommy’s relief is palpable as he grins at you, “If you want to stay, we’ll put in a good word with Maria,” you say, “she’s the head of the board that runs Jackson, we always need more people we can trust.” 

“We should probably head over and tell her about you now, and see where we should house you and see about getting some food for you,” Will nods and gives Tommy a hand up from the exam table as Diana comes back in with a pair of crutches. 

“Food would be amazing,” he replies, “Diana was kind enough to give me some jerky but I can’t remember when I last had a proper meal.” 

“The community hall, where the cantina is, is next door,” Will says, “Let’s get you over there and then we’ll get Maria to come see you, saves you trying to hobble all across town.” 

“I’m going to go home and check on Frankie, I haven’t been back yet,” you step back to let Will help Tommy out through the door of the clinic, “and then I’ll get Maria.” 

“Alright, see you over there,” Will says and you head off back home. 

Frankie is where you left him, in bed, dozing with a book next to him. It doesn’t look like he’s gotten through a single page of it, but he doesn’t look as pale as he did this morning. He’s sleeping peacefully so you go back downstairs and heat up some soup for him. 

Jack tumbles through the door as you’re ladeling it into a bowl, back from school. He turned nine a few months ago and he’s growing into a mischievous little boy, all too willingly helped by his uncle Benny. He goes to the small Jackson community school, run by an elderly, former high school teacher who was brought to Jackson by her son. Jack isn’t the oldest child in Jackson anymore, over the years, small families have found their way here, mainly through sheer luck. But he’s still the only child who’s been here almost since the beginning and to him, Jackson is his entire world. Which is why he so eagerly listens to any stories about the world before the outbreak, you think they might sound like fairy tales to him, his; ‘Once upon a time…’

 To Frankie’s pride, the helicopters he’d given Jack on his first Christmas was a huge success, and stories about Frankie flying were still his favorites. 

“I’m gonna bring up some soup for your dad,” you tell him after he’s given you a hug, “Do you want some?” 

“No, I promised Benny I’d come over and play with Lily while he makes dinner,” Jack says, throwing his school bag on the table and then hanging it on its peg on the wall after a look from you. 

“They’re down at the community center with a new arrival,” you say, “I actually found one of their cousins, Tommy, when I was on patrol today and we brought him back. He’d sprained his ankle so Diana took care of him first and now they’re getting him some food.” 

“Oh, can I go down and see him?” Jack asks, already getting to his feet, always eager to meet any new people in Jackson. 

“Yeah, I thought you might like that,” you grin, “run ahead, I’m going to give Frankie this and see if he’s awake and check how he’s doing.”

“Ok, I’ll see you later!” Jack yells and takes off, slamming the door behind him. You’re pretty sure Frankie will be awake when you go upstairs, thanks to that. Putting the soup on a tray with a glass of water and some bread, you take it upstairs and gently push the door to the master bedroom open. 

“Hey,” Frankie says in a sleepy voice, “patrol go ok?” It’s always his first question whenever you come back, his worry less now but still always simmering when you leave Jackson without him. 

“Yeah, better than ok,” you say, putting the tray on the bedside table and smiling at him, “Elijah and Kieran found a man in a cabin, lightly injured after running from raiders, and I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw him,” you pause for dramatic effect and Frankie raises his eyebrows, “It was Tommy Miller,” you grin, “just sitting on the floor of a cabin a few miles from Jackson.” 

“Tommy Miller?” Frankie's eyes widen in surprise and then you see the flash of worry that you’d felt and you’re not surprised about his next question, “And Joel?” 

“Not here, Tommy left him back in Boston.” 

“Oh,” Frankie says, his face slipping into a tired smile, “did you tell Benny and Will yet?” 

“Yeah, I took Tommy to Diana first and then told them, they’re with him now,” you reply and sit down next to Frankie on the bed, putting your hand on his forehead, “How are you feeling baby? You look a little bit better but you still seem tired.” 

“A little bit better, I think the fever broke, but I’m really tired,” he leans into your palm as you caress his cheek, running your thumb over his small bald patch. 

“I brought some soup, you didn’t eat anything all day did you?” 

“No, I slept most of the time,” he yawns and leans his head on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, “I was having weird dreams, you turned blue, and then butterflies landed on you and Jack kept telling me it was perfectly normal for this time of year.” 

You chuckle lightly, running your fingers through his tangled curls, trying to smooth them out, as Frankie sighs and pulls you down onto the bed so that he can curl into you. 

“How about some food, Frankie?” you say softly, still stroking his hair. 

He shakes his head, “Stay with me like this just for a little bit, I missed you,” he tucks his arm in under you and pulls you closer, the tip of his nose buried against your neck, “Tell me what Tommy said,” he mumbles, “how did he get out here?”

You begin to tell him what Tommy had told you, but it doesn’t take long before you hear his breathing slow down and he slips back into sleep. You carefully kiss the top of his head and untangle yourself from his arms, tucking him in again. The soup is left uneaten on the bedside table but you cover it and take it back downstairs. 

You leave Frankie sleeping and walk down to the community center, where Tommy is just polishing off his second bowl of stew while he chats with Will and Benny. Maria sits next to them and as you walk over they all laugh at something Tommy says. Maria is smiling and looking at the newest Miller with a look you haven’t seen on her before. 

“Hi,” you greet them all and sit down next to Jack who’s also at the table, mopping up his own stew with some bread, “Frankie says hello Tommy, but he’s gone back to sleep, he’ll see you when he’s better.”

“How’s Fish doing? Is it just a man-cold or the real deal?” Benny grins and you give him a mock scowl. 

“He’s actually sick, but his fever broke so he’s doing better, just really tired.” 

“The flu has been going around,” Maria says, “Pat and Linda were sick last week too.” She turns back to Tommy and gives him a smile, “So, now you know how things work around here, and we could really use someone like you here too, especially seeing as you’re family to some of our oldest residents, do you want to stay?” 

“Yeah, if you guys will have me, absolutely”, Tommy says, nodding as he looks around the table, “I’d really like to stay, and I’ll do whatever you need me to do to help out.”

“Tommy used to work in construction before the outbreak,” Will says, “he’ll be a great asset to the building team.” 

“Great, that’s really great,” Maria says and stands up as she smiles at Tommy again, “Will and Benny can show you to the house but it might be easier for you to stay with one of them until you’re healed up.” 

“Thanks, I really appreciate this, Maria,” Tommy says, smiling back at her and you catch Will’s eye as he winks at you with a grin. 

…

Tommy settles in easily, both with Will and Diana, where he stays until his ankle has healed, and in Jackson. You start remembering how easy Tommy was to hang out with at the old bar back in Boston when Joel wasn’t around, as he becomes a regular at Sunday night dinners. It’s only natural that Tommy joins these weekly dinners that you have with the two Miller brothers and their wives, but you’re not surprised when Maria starts coming to them too. The flirting between the two of them is obvious and Will has to slap Benny over the head when he ribs Tommy too hard about it. A few months after Tommy arrived in Jackson, they’re officially a couple and it doesn’t take long before Tommy moves in with Maria and as time moves along, it feels as if he’s always been part of the community, and your worry about Joel lessens. 

…

The short Wyoming summer is already starting to fade as you join Maria on a patrol and hunting trip up towards the foothills of the Rockies a few months later. You’ve stopped up on a ridge that overlooks Jackson for your lunch break, letting your horses graze nearby. Even though you’re on high alert, it’s peaceful up here, and Jackson looks like any small settler town down on the plain. 

“I’m glad you could come with me on this patrol,” Maria suddenly says, looking over at you, “I wanted to talk to you about something that might be sensitive.” 

“Sounds serious,” you reply, handing her one of the sandwiches from your pack. 

“Hopefully not,” she shakes her head, “but I don’t know if you know, Tommy asked to use the radio to contact his brother back in Boston, to let him know that he’s alive, which I was fine with and he talked to him last week.” 

You feel your skin go cold as you continue to look down at Jackson and Maria seems to sense the shift. 

“I told him not to say where he was, too much of a risk of someone listening in, but I saw no harm in him talking to his brother. But I can see that you think differently,” Maria pauses and keeps her eyes on you. 

“How did you know I’d have an opinion about who Tommy talks to?” you ask, turning to meet her gaze. 

“Will,” she replies, “Tommy told him he’d talked to Joel and Will came to me afterwards and said I should talk to you.” 

You nod and look back out towards Jackson, it still looks peaceful but it’s like you can feel Joel drawing closer. 

“Is there something in Tommy’s background that I need to know about?” Maria asks and you inhale, slowly letting the air slip out again as you look down at the toes of your boots before turning fully to Maria. 

“I’m only telling you mine and Frankie’s story, Tommy has to tell you his part with Joel, that’s not for me to say anything about,” you begin and look up at her, and she nods, so you continue 

“You know Frankie was in the army for years before the outbreak, with Will and Benny, that’s how they met” you begin, “They all have different scars from those days, and they’ve all handled them differently. Frankie, unfortunately, had really bad PTSD, and he didn’t handle it in the best way….” you sigh and glance back at Jackson, it feels like you’re betraying Frankie by telling Maria but she needs to know if you’re to protect him from Joel getting to Jackson, because of course, Tommy wants his brother here too. 

“Frankie developed a drug addiction,” you say, looking back at Maria who raises her eyebrows.

“Your Frankie?” she says with surprise, “he’s the last person I would think had a drug problem, he doesn’t even get tipsy at the bar.” 

“That’s the reason, he knows too well how easily he falls into it,” you reply, “and when I met him he’d gotten past that. He told me everything, the PTSD, the drugs, how he really hit rock bottom, and how he pulled himself together again. He’d put his life back together again when we met.” 

“Good for him, that’s not easy,” Maria says as she pours you both tea from a thermos and you take the mug she holds out. 

“Yeah, he had a lot of help from his friends, from Benny and Will, but mostly from a man called Santiago, you’ve probably heard about him.” 

“Yeah, you guys mention him sometimes, he’s the one you call ‘Pope’ right?” 

You nod, the usual twinge of grief in your heart as you think about Santi, “That’s him. He let Frankie sleep on his couch when he was at his lowest, lost his job, his apartment, he had nothing left, and Santi kept him afloat. And then Frankie’s girlfriend at the time got pregnant, and with Pope’s help, Frankie managed to get clean so that he could be a good dad for the baby, a girl called Lucía.” 

Maria sighs and you see a shade of a grief pass over her face, “Since she didn’t come to Jackson with you, I guess she didn’t make it?” 

You turn back to look at Jackson, rubbing a hand over your face. Certain memories from the past eighteen years are harder to look back on than others and as the scenes from the roadside outside Franklin floats up into your mind, tears well up and you swallow hard before you speak. 

“She died on one of the first days. Frankie and I were trying to get to her, she was staying with her mom on outbreak day, but we were too late. It broke Frankie,” you say, your voice unsteady as you drag the heel of your hand over your eyes, “And I know you understand.” 

You’d seen Maria’s little shrine to her son Kevin in her house, and noted how Tommy had added Sarah to it a little while ago. 

“I’m sorry,” Maria reaches out and puts her hand on your arm, “I didn’t realize he had a daughter too.” 

“He never talks about her to others, not even Jack knows, Frankie’s gonna tell him when he’s a bit older. But losing her, and then working for FEDRA, triggered his PTSD again. He was in bad shape and it was harder getting out of it this time, I had to try so hard…” you shake your head and Maria sits silently next to you until you draw a deep breath and continue. 

“Eventually we made it to Boston, we’d met Tommy and Joel just before we got there so we all arrived together and Frankie and the others started working together as smugglers, without me.” 

“You knew Tommy and Joel before the outbreak right?” Maria asks and you nod. 

“I met them once, we spent a fourth of July weekend together, so I didn’t know them well. But Joel, back then, he was a nice guy. Great with both his daughter and Lucía, seemed much more on top of things than Tommy,” you smile and Maria chuckles. “But after Sarah and ten years after the outbreak…he was very different. Not the same man at all,” you say, “He doesn’t seem to care about anyone except maybe Tommy. And the worst thing was, he brought out the worst in Frankie, Joel had no qualms about using violence to get what he wanted or needed, and it rubbed off on Frankie. Frankie’s not a violent man, none of them are, but they can be very violent when they have to. And Joel gave Frankie the permission to be as violent as possible…”

 You stop for a minute, gathering your thoughts as you remember the darkest days in Boston. 

“Frankie’s PTSD got bad, it was never really gone, not after Lucía, but it got really bad when he worked with Joel. And then Joel found a guy that could supply drugs,” you look over at Maria, “You probably don’t know, but because of Frankie’s addiction, Will, Benny and Pope were dead set against dealing any kind of drugs when they were smuggling. But Joel didn’t have the same reservation. And Frankie got addicted again…” 

“And Joel supplied them to him?” 

“Yeah, he did, but in Joel’s defense, he was using them too and he didn’t know Frankie used to be addicted. And when Frankie told him, Joel cut Frankie off and stopped selling to him. But there was another smuggler, Tess, that Tommy and Joel started working with, and she continued to sell to Frankie. And now, apparently, they’re pretty tight. Tommy said they’re living together, but…listen, Maria,” you turn back to her, taking your eyes off the view as you take hold of her hand to make your point crystal clear, “I do not want Joel Miller in Jackson. I’m sorry he lost his daughter, but he’s not a good man anymore, and if he comes here, I’m scared what he’ll bring with him and what it’ll do to Frankie.” 

Maria nods and holds your hand tight, “I agree with you, I only know Joel from what Tommy has already told me, but it’s enough for me to know that we don’t want someone like him here, even though Tommy loves him.” 

“But Tommy talked to him already?” 

“Yeah, but only to let him know that he’s alive and well, I told him not to tell Joel where we are.” 

“Sean knows what radio tower we’re broadcasting from, so Joel will know Tommy’s in Wyoming.” You get to your feet, nerves starting to grate on your limbs and you need to move so you pace along the ridge. 

“Maybe you should talk to Tommy?” Maria suggests, “make sure he knows you’re worried what’ll happen if Joel comes here.”

“And tell Tommy he can’t see his only living family member again?” You look at Maria and shake your head, “I can’t do that, much as I don’t want Joel here.” 

“Then talk to him and just tell him how you feel at least, Tommy knows what kind of man Joel is, he might come to the same conclusion as you, without you having to tell him.” 

“You think he’ll listen to that?” 

“Maybe, Tommy loves Joel but he did tell me about what the two of them used to do as smugglers, and he knows I think Joel was a dark influence on him. I think he’ll see it the same way for Frankie.”

“Yeah, ok, if you think he’ll understand,” you reply as Maria starts packing up the lunch. 

“He will, Joel was a big influence on him, but he’s been away from him for a long time now, he’ll understand.” 

…

You and Maria make it back to Jackson early in the evening and you drop off the rabbits you’ve managed to snare at the butches, bringing home some fresh deer meat in exchange. Jack is at the kitchen table as you come through the door and Frankie is peeling potatoes. From the conversation you can hear drifting out into the hall, Jack is trying to understand how the dam that supplies the electricity works, and Frankie is going through the different steps as you walk in. 

“Hey mom,” Jack says as you press a kiss to the top of his head, before putting the meat in the fridge. Frankie wipes his hands and pulls you into his side with an arm around your waist, tilting your head up with a hand on your cheek so that he can kiss you. 

“Welcome home, hermosa,” he mumbles as Jack makes retching noises in the background and you giggle. Jack’s at the age where any sign of physical affection between adults is the most embarrassing thing ever and Frankie loves teasing him about it. Wrapping both arms around you he buries his face against your neck and places loud, smacking kisses all along your throat as you try to fight him off, laughing at Jack’s loud protests behind you. 

“Nooo, stop,” he wails, “that’s so icky!” 

You can feel Frankie shaking with laughter under your hands as you finally manage to push him off. You’re laughing too and Jack shakes his head in the most indignant way as you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stop the laughter. 

“C’mon Jack,” Frankie grins, “before you know it you’ll be desperate to kiss Simona, just give it a few more years, you’ll be asking Benny for advice.”

“Noooooo,” Jack howls and buries his head in his arms, “I’m not listening!”  

You slap Frankie’s chest but you’re still smiling, “Don’t send him to Benny for girl advice, Frankie!” 

“Fine, you can come to me for advice, Jack. I clearly know what I’m doing,” he grins at you and you have to roll your eyes at his mischievous smile. 

“I’m still not listening,” Jack mumbles from under his arms. 

“It’s fine, Jack, you can come out, I won’t let him kiss me again,” you laugh and Jack’s head pops up as you swat away Frankie’s grabby hands and he gives you a look as if you’ve just kicked his puppy.

“Mujer malvada,” he pouts, going back to the potatoes in the sink and you stick your tongue out at him before you start cleaning the fish that’s going to be dinner.  

“Have I told you how I met your mom, Jack?” Frankie asks, looking over his shoulder at the boy, who shakes his head.

“It better not be gross,” he says, “if it’s gross, I’m leaving.” 

“No, I promise, nothing gross, but I was at this bar with Benny, Will and Pope and she came in with some friends and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen,” Frankie winks at you and you’re not surprised to feel butterflies in your stomach even now as he smiles softly. 

“I was trying to be sly and look at her without her noticing, but she saw me straight away and I got all shy, didn’t know what to do with myself,” Frankie chuckles at the memory of the night at The Outback Bar. “And then Pope saw that I was looking at her and he started staring and then Benny and Will turned around and looked too and your mom got all nervous and- “ 

“I did not!” you protest laughing, “I suddenly had four big guys staring at me from across the bar, it was a bit disconcerting, but I was not nervous!” 

“You were totally nervous because we were checking you out, but you only had eyes for me, hermosa,” Frankie smiles. 

“It’s getting gross!!” Jack warns from the table and it makes you both laugh again. 

“So Pope said I should go and ask for her number, but I was too shy, I didn’t think someone like her would want to talk to me,” Frankie smiles at you again and you give him a wink before going back to the fish. 

“Wait,” Jack says, “what number? Why did you need a number from her?” 

“So back before the outbreak we had telephones, kinda like radios, but every telephone had a unique number and if you dialed it, you got to that specific telephone. So I wanted the number for her telephone so that I could call and talk to her,” Frankie explains and Jack nods. He’s used to things from before the outbreak needing to be explained and it constantly amazes you how normal he seems to think this world is, but of course, it’s the only world he’s known. 

“So I was too shy to go ask for her number,” Frankie says, “But Pope bet me money that I wouldn’t have the guts to do it, and that made me go up and talk to her.” 

“And then I wouldn’t give him my number,” you laugh, “he came up to me just as they were closing the bar and I didn’t want to give my number to this random guy, even though he was kinda cute.” 

“I was devastated, Jack!” Frankie says, throwing his arms out for dramatic effect and making Jack giggle, “She was so beautiful and had this amazing smile and I really wanted to get to know her but she just turned me down and then she and her friends were leaving.” Frankie looks over at you with a tender smile, “It was like electricity when you looked at me across the bar, hermosa, and then you broke my heart.” 

“So what happened?” Jack asks, interested against his will, leans forward on the table. 

“I had to go back to Pope and tell him I didn’t get her number and he was nice enough to not tease me too much about it,” Frankie says, smiling at the memory, “And then we left the bar, I was going to drive everyone home, and as we were walking across the parking lot I hear someone call my name, and I turn around.” Frankie’s finished with the potatoes and places them on the stove and turns it on before sitting down at the table next to Jack. “She was walking towards me across the lot and I was rooted to the spot like a fool,” he chuckles, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he looks up at you, “But Pope, he gave me a shove and made me move, so we met in the middle and she asked me for my phone and then she gave me her number.” 

“And then I kissed you,” you say from the counter, wiping your hands clean from the fish as you smile at him. 

“And then you kissed me,” Frankie says, and his eyes soften as he meets yours, “And I was a goner, I think I fell in love with you right there.” 

“Gross,” Jack says, breaking the spell and Frankie laughs, reaching out and pulling you down on his lap. 

“Not gross at all, it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he smiles and Jack shoves his chair back from the table. 

“I’m leaving,” he announces and you hear him thunder up the stairs, “I’m gonna get my bag and toothbrush!”

“His toothbrush? Were we that gross today?” you ask, confused, and Frankie chuckles. 

“He’s sleeping over at Mike and Jesse’s place, he asked me when he got back from school and since it’s a Friday, I said ok and we get the house to ourselves tonight…” Frankie’s hand slides up to grip the back of your neck and pull you closer, brushing his nose against yours before he gently kisses you. 

“Did you already make plans?” you smile between Frankie’s soft kisses and he nods. 

“Dinner and then an early night I think, I definitely need to lay down and be in a horizontal position for most of the evening, and I think you should join me.” 

“You’re such a dork, Francisco Morales,” you say, cupping his cheek with your hand as you feel him grin against your lips. 

“I love it when you use my full name, I know I did good when that happens,” he kisses you again but you hear Jack come thundering down the stairs so you pull back and stand up. 

“You’ve got everything?” you ask him as he comes into the kitchen and he holds up his backpack and pillow. 

“Yeah, I think so,” he says and you bend down and give him a hug and a kiss. 

“Have fun sweetie, don’t let Jesse scare you and Mike with ghost stories again ok?” 

“I’m not scared of those anymore mom,” he protests, “they’re not real.” 

“Alright then, good to know,” you laugh as Frankie comes over and gives Jack a hug too. 

“Sleep well, gordito, see you tomorrow morning.” 

“Ok, see ya tomorrow!” 

Jack wriggles out of Frankie’s tight hug and gives you a big grin and disappears out through the front door. Frankie immediately takes your hands and puts them up around his neck so that he can wrap his own around your waist. 

“I have plans, hermosa,” he smiles, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“Dinner first, Morales,” you say, making him walk backwards to the kitchen where the potatoes are boiling on the stove, “but then you’ve got free range, you can fuck me however you want, come wherever you want…” you trail off, placing a kiss on his soft lips as he groans. 

“You’re killing me, cariño.”  

…

“Let me hear it, bebita, please,” Frankie growls, digging his fingers into your thigh, holding you open as you arch your back and choke back a moan, “The house is empty, you know I love hearing what I do to you.” 

“Oh god, Frankie…” you pant as he bends his head back to your heated clit and circles his tongue around it again, “pleasepleaseplease,” you plead, fingers grabbing his curls to urge him on. You hear him groan into you as he tightens his grip on your hips, licking and sucking, his nose slipping through your folds as he lets his tongue taste you. His hips are grinding into the bed, seeking any relief. You know he’s rock hard and leaking, he’s groaning into your soft heat, lapping at your opening as you writhe underneath him. 

He’s taken his time tonight, he only rushed you upstairs after dinner, slowing down as he got you to the bedroom. Asking you to take your clothes off slowly, one item at a time while he watched. You’d seen him grow hard, palming himself through his jeans, a mischievous smile making his mouth twitch as you pulled your t-shirt over your head, letting your hands skim over your breasts on the way down to your pants. 

When he had you naked and lying back on the covers, he pulled his own shirt off and climbed up between your legs, pushing them apart with his knees. Sinking back on his heels he took his time looking over your body, his warm palms skimming over your legs, caressing the soft skin on the inside of your thighs. When finally made space for his wide shoulders between your legs, you were moaning, begging him to touch you where you needed it the most. 

Now he’s lazily letting his tongue flick across your clit, holding you open with one hand as his other begins to tease your opening, one thick finger sliding in, your arousal letting him push it in with no resistance. 

“Fuck…Frankie…” you keen, “more, give me more…” and he chuckles, you can feel the vibrations across your heated skin as you try to press your core closer to his mouth, his fingers. 

“Relax, bebita,” he mumbles, his lips brushing over your clit with every word, his tongue lapping over it again, making you whimper, “we have all night.” 

But he pulls out his finger, and slides two back in, curling them as he pushes deep and then out, slowly. Setting a steady pace, he knows exactly how to make your back arch as he holds your hips down with a heavy arm over your belly, fingers and tongue working together to make you come undone. You can feel your muscles tighten as your mind unravels, all there’s room for is how he makes you tremble and whimper, trying to remember how to breathe. 

You grab hold of his curls, twisting your fingers around them, pulling him closer. When you glance down you see him looking up your body, dark eyes watching your chest heave as you gasp for air. 

“Frankie…” you moan, dropping your head back onto the pillow, the sight of him, your legs spread wide around his shoulders, too much to handle as he curls his fingers back and increases his rhythm. You hear him mumble against your skin, incoherent words that pulls your coil tighter. 

He’s pushing your leg up, moving to give himself more leverage, leaving your clit for a moment to lick a broad stripe up from where his fingers are knuckle deep, to the very apex. He feels your pussy start to clamp down harder around him and he knows you’re close. Glancing up at you again he seals his lips around the swollen button and pulls it into his mouth, making you cry out, tightening your fingers in his hair. He doesn’t let up, moaning into you, his fingers finding every nerve ending as they slide through the silky heat. He pushes himself up on his knees, groaning as the movement makes his pants rub against the aching head of his cock, but the new position lets him spread you open, gives him more leverage and he uses it to increase the pressure on your clit. 

Your mouth falls open, strangled cries escaping as the coil tightens in every muscle. You can feel him grab your thigh, his fingers digging in as he holds himself together, intent on making you topple over the edge. Forcing your eyes open you look down at him, on his knees, the dark curls on the top of his head brushing over your belly as he buries his face between your legs. He’s growling into you and as he quickly slips in a third finger, stretching you open, his tongue flicking hard over your clit, you feel yourself explode. 

“Frankie, fuck…d-don’t… “ You close your eyes against the onslaught, colors dancing behind your eyelids as his movements continue to shoot electricity through your muscles, thick fingers keeping you open, his shoulder forcing your legs to spread wide as his tongue laps across, and then around, your overwrought bundle of nerves. 

He feels your grip on his hair loosen, the muscles in your legs go limp around him, and he slowly gives your clit a final, soft, kiss, his fingers slipping out. You’re gasping for air as he leans his head against the plush inside of your thigh, relishing in the softness of the flesh and the sight in front of him. He can feel the heat coming from your folds, puffy and shining, slick with your arousal and his saliva, and as he lets his eyes trail up your body he meets your drowsy eyes. 

“You back with me?” he smiles, giving your thigh a soft kiss. 

“Just about,” you smile back at him, “I lost a few seconds there.” You reach down and take his hand, tugging slightly on it, “Come here, take those pants off and fuck me, Francisco Morales.” 

He groans at your words, his cock twitching and reminding him of how painfully hard it is, and he lets your fumbling fingers open the buttons when he reaches your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, smell it on his beard, it’s slick against your cheek when he slides his tongue into your mouth. 

“Got..got to get ‘em off…” he mutters, struggling to keep kissing you and push the stubborn jeans down his legs. He groans as the rough denim scrapes across his cock tenting in the soft cotton of his boxers.

“Oh fuck it,” he snaps and pushes himself up off the bed and you can’t help but laugh as he stumbles back, tugging at his pants, kicking them off his feet and rushing to crawl up the bed to you again. 

“I need to fuck you so badly now,” he growls, grabbing your hand and moving it down between your bodies, making you close your fingers around him. He’s hot and velvety to the touch, you love the feel of him like this, so hard you can feel every ridge and vein, every twitch as your hand caresses the heavy weight of his cock. 

He moans into your mouth, hips thrusting into your hand, and you guide the head to brush across your clit, gathering the slick that still coats you. The feel of him across your sensitive clit makes you shiver as he moans again, a low rumble coming from deep inside him. He drops his head against your shoulder, pushing your legs apart with his hips, letting you guide him inside. 

“Always so good, cariño,” he mutters, pushing his thick length in, inching it deeper with shallow thrusts, “always so fucking good, bebita.” 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you take him deep, as he tries to hold himself up over you, but you pull him down. He always thinks he’s too heavy on top, but you love to feel him over you, his hot skin sliding against yours, crushing you down into the bed, wide shoulders and arms caging you in underneath him. 

“I want you closer Frankie,” you mumble, your arms around his shoulder, tangling your fingers in the long curls at the back of his neck, pulling him down, “I love feeling you weighing me down.” 

You reach up and find his lips, feeling him breath into your mouth as he starts thrusting into you, grunting, panting hard. “Love looking up and seeing only you above me, only you Frankie,” you whisper and he whimpers, you can feel him stutter and pick up his speed, moaning into you.

“You feel so good, baby,” you kiss his open mouth, “make me feel so good, so full, so fucking full of you, so thick, so hard.” 

You wrap your legs tighter around him, rocking up to meet his thrusts, “Fuck me harder Frankie, you feel so good like this,” you’re mumbling against him, your hands holding him close to you, he’s panting, groaning and every sound you pull from him makes your own arousal build again. 

As he changes his angle, you moan, squeezing your eyes shut, he’s hitting something deep inside that shoots sparks through your limbs. 

“You’re gonna make me come again, please, make me come again…” you can’t stop yourself from crying out as he sinks his teeth into your lip, his dark eyes glinting above you. 

He’s moving faster, pushing himself deeper, each thrust grazing over your clit, sending sharper sparks through your body with each pass. 

“Come on then,” he growls, almost an order, “come for me again and I’ll fuck you so full, cariño, I’m so…fuck…close,” he groans, his rhythm faltering and it hits you like a truck, your body tries to arch up against him, his weight keeping you pressed against the bed as you cry out, almost a sob, digging your fingers into his shoulders. 

Frankie’s breath catches in his throat, through your own haze you hear him shout, he’s grinding into you, groaning loudly into your ear as he struggles to hold himself up under the onslaught of his climax, his groans turns to whimpers and you pull him down on top of you, not caring about his heavy weight. 

His face is pressed against your shoulder, and he turns his head, drawing a deep breath as he feels your pulse race under the delicate skin on your throat. He looks at the way it thrums, your breathing slowing down as you relax under him, your body soft and pliant. Your fingers move from his shoulders, he knows he’ll feel marks there tomorrow, and up into his hair, caressing slowly through the tangled curls, scratching his scalp. 

He hums, melting into you, he knows he should move, get his weight off you, but you're warm, soft, like velvet under him, and his body doesn’t want to shift. Instead he presses himself closer, his nose skating across your jaw, lips against the soft skin by your ear. 

“Tell me to move,” he mumbles, breathing against you and he sees you shake your head, your fingers holding him tight, passing through his hair and sending delicate shivers down his spine. 

“Don’t move, stay,” you whisper, cupping the back of his head with your hand. 

He draws a deep breath, listening to the silent house, your breathing, your heartbeat under his ear, the soft scrape of your nails against his scalp. 

“If this is the rest of my life, I will die the happiest man in the world,” he says, his voice low, not wanting to disturb the peace. He sees corners of your mouth quirk up in a lazy smile as you turn and kiss the tip of his nose, the only part of him you can reach. 

“Have I made you happy?” he asks, voice still low and quiet. He knows the answer, has known it for years now, but sometimes he still wants to hear you say it. 

“Always, Frankie, you always make me happy,” you smile, shifting under him so that you can look at him, your eyes softening as you lean your forehead against his, “Have I made you happy?” 

“More than anything, hermosa, amor de mi vida, you make me happy every day,” he says, brushing his lips against yours, pressing a soft kiss there, keeping his lips close to your mouth, sharing breaths. 

….

It’s a rare morning the next day, waking up when you want to, not when the old shrill alarm clock wakes you. Or actually, this morning you wake up when you feel Frankie shift behind you, his warm body pressing closer to you, his heavy arm pulling you just that little bit tighter. He’s not even awake yet, his even breathing tickling the back of your neck as he stirs, even in his sleep making sure you’re near him. 

You let yourself wake up gently, relishing in the feeling of being warm in bed with Frankie, safe, happy, nowhere you need to go today at least. Frankie’s hand is resting on your chest, between your breast, and you trace soft patterns with your fingertips on the back of it. Slowly he wakes up, burying his nose into your hair and breathing deeply, groaning as he stretches out behind you. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice low and heavy with sleep. 

“Morning, my love,” you say, turning in his arms so that you can see him. He gives you a sleepy smile and cups your cheek with his hand. 

“Have you been awake long?” He asks and you shake your head. 

“Just a little bit, I was enjoying the peace and quiet. And you were so warm and nice, my Frankie shaped furnace,” you smile and give the tip of his nose a peck, making him wrinkle it with a grin, “Did you sleep well?” you ask. 

“Yeah, like a log, no nightmares, no bad dreams,” he replies, his thumb caressing your cheek, tracing along your nose, under your eyes and following the line of your jaw to your chin, “slept like a baby.” 

His nightmares are almost rare these days, but you still ask, you always want to know and he knows why, he’s never going to hide anything from you again. 

He shifts, his hand slipping over your shoulder, down along your body until he can cup his large hand over your ass and pull you closer. It makes you smirk and he chuckles. 

“How do you feel about morning sex, cariño,” he grins, grabbing your thigh and hooking it over his hip. His half hard cock is already making itself known and it makes you give an involuntary shiver as your hips buck into his. 

“I’d be very interested in morning sex,” you smile, leaning forward to capture his sleep warm lips in a kiss, ignoring the morning breath. He hums into your mouth and grinds his hips in between your legs, dragging his rapidly stiffening cock over your clit in a move that makes you moan. 

A door slams downstairs and you hear Jack’s clear voice echo through the house. 

“I’m back! I got eggs from Jesse!” 

Frankie groans and you sigh, much as you love your son, his timing is unbelievably bad. 

“We’ll be right there, honey!” You call over Frankie’s shoulder. He groans again, grinding into you harder this time. 

“I can be real quick and quiet, you know that,” he growls, grabbing your hips and you laugh, pushing him away. 

“Raincheck, Frankie, we can always take a shower later,” you smile, kissing him as you pull away from his grabby hands. 

“I’m taking that as a promise,” he grins, rolling out of bed and grabbing his pants and following you downstairs. 

“Morning sweetie,” you say to Jack, kissing his cheek, “did you have fun?” 

“Yeah, we played this old game called Twister, do you know it?” he asks. 

“The one with the mat and you have to put arms and feet on the right markers? Yeah, I used to play when I was little.” 

“Jesse traded for one and we played it all night, it was so much fun!” Jack’s out of the chair and demonstrating on the floor how he contorted his body to reach the markers, “I want one too!”

“I could probably make you one,” Frankie says from the stove, “it wouldn’t be hard.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see what supplies I have, I know I have paint already.” 

“Can I help?” Jack asks as you start putting away the eggs that he’s handed you. 

“Sure, do you want to do it today?” Frankie ruffles Jack’s hair, “And give me a hand with breakfast, did you eat already?”

“Yeah, I ate there. Can we do it when you’ve had breakfast?” 

“Unless your mom has plans for us?” Frankie hooks his arm around your waist and puts his chin on your shoulder, “Any plans for us, cariño?” he grins, giving you a quick wink. 

“No, no plans at all actually,” you give him a mock scowl before kissing the tip of his nose with a smile. 

…

The conversation you had with Maria sticks in your head after Frankie leaves. You haven’t told him about it yet and part of you wants to protect him from having to worry about Joel. You bounce it back and forth in your head, going from wanting to ignore the whole thing to trying to convince yourself that the chances of Joel showing up are slim. But then you remind yourself that if Benny and Will, and Tommy, could make the trek across the country and find Jackson, so could Joel. Joel is nothing if not persistent. 

In the end, you decide that you have to talk to Tommy, at least for your own peace of mind. 

You seek him out at home when you know Maria is busy with a town meeting, knocking on their front door. He answers with a smile and opens the door wide, inviting you in.

“Hey, good to see you! Maria’s not in if it’s her you’re looking for,” he says and leads you into the kitchen. 

“No, I know she’s at the town meeting, I actually came to see you,” you say, deciding to get straight to the point. 

“Alright, what’s up? And do you want some tea? I was just going to make some,” he replies, holding up a mug to you. 

“Thanks, tea would be great,” you sit down at the kitchen table and tap on the surface with your nails, gathering your thoughts. 

“So what’s up? Seems serious, you look pretty tightly wound,” Tommy turns to you after putting a kettle to boil. 

“I don’t know how to start, Tommy, I feel a bit shitty about bringing this up with you, but…” you shift on your chair, leaning back and Tommy furrows his forehead as you fidget. 

“I talked to Maria, and she told me you talked to Joel on the radio,” you eventually say, watching Tommy take out another mug and tea, “And you know how bad Frankie was in-”

“You’re worried Joel’s gonna come out here,” Tommy says, and it’s not a question, “And get Frankie back into trouble.” He pours the boiling water into the mugs and sits down opposite you at the table. 

You shift again uncomfortably but Tommy doesn’t look mad or disappointed, he’s just nodding slightly, looking down at his own mug. 

“I’m sorry, Tommy, I know he’s your only family,” you begin but Tommy shakes his head. 

“I know maybe more than you think,” he says, “Benny told me pretty much everything, I think he’s worried about Joel turning up here too. So I know the part my brother played in Frankie’s drug addiction.” 

“It’s not just that, Tommy,” you reply, leaning forward and holding onto the mug, “besides, the drugs don’t worry me so much, I doubt anyone could find drugs out here anyway. But Joel is violent.” 

You see Tommy’s shoulder’s drop forward, like he’s hunching, as he gives you a small nod, “I know, it came out after Sarah.” 

“It gets to Frankie too, Joel’s anger rubs off on him, Tommy. And Frankie knows how to be very violent, maybe even more than Joel, and with his PTSD, the fucking leftovers from Delta…” you shake your head, sighing, “When we were in Boston, Frankie behaved in ways I’ve never seen from him, when he was working with Joel. And Joel…he sees it like it’s the only way to do things, to survive, and he encouraged Frankie, saw it as he was doing the only right thing.” 

“You know Maria doesn’t want him here either, right?” Tommy asks, “I told her about how Joel and I had been surviving since the outbreak and she doesn’t think what we did was right, says we could’ve made different choices.” 

“But Joel never saw it that way,” you reply and Tommy nods in agreement. 

“No, he never did, he was barely surviving, after Sarah, and he just hardened. I never questioned if what we did was right, we did it to survive and he was the only family I had so I followed him. Blindly maybe. 

“And he hasn’t changed? Since Frankie and I left Boston I mean,” you ask. 

“No, if anything he’s more ruthless than ever. We started working with Tess, Frankie introduced us to her, did you know that?” 

You nod, Frankie had told you everything that had happened those last few months in Boston, how he got drugs after Joel stopped selling to him. 

“She can be as ruthless as Joel, whatever it takes to survive, and it turned out they were kinda the same, maybe like with Frankie and Joel,” Tommy drains his mug of tea and gives you a crooked smile. “It took me a while to pick up on it, but they must’ve started something pretty soon after we met her. I only found out when I realized she’d moved in with him, that they were sleeping together.” 

“It’s hard to imagine Joel caring for anyone but himself and you,” you say, “it sounds horrible to say it, but he’s so different from who he was when I met him before the outbreak, I can’t see him loving anyone.”  

Tommy shrugs, “I don’t know if he loves Tess, if he’s even capable of that anymore, losing Sarah, it took it all out of him. Maybe she’s just in his sphere, someone he needs to protect, like he used to protect me.” 

“Has it changed him, being with Tess I mean?”

“I was hoping it would change him, soften him at least a little, but whatever it is they have, Joel is the same on the outside. And things in the QZ were getting worse so when Marlene, she’s the leader of the Boston Fireflies, approached me, I wasn’t hard to convince…” Tommy leans back in his chair, sighing deeply, “Joel got really mad when he found out I joined them, we had a big fight, left it on pretty bad terms…” Tommy trails off and looks guilty.

“We didn’t really get past it before I left…” he says after a long pause, “when I told him I was leaving with the Fireflies he just just shrugged and said I’d always joined every lost cause. Maybe he’s right, I don’t know. But I know he was mad at me for leaving, but I couldn’t stay and do nothing.” 

“At least you tried to make a difference, Tommy, even if the Fireflies weren’t right for you,” you say, giving Tommy a small smile, he seems to be feeling guilty about leaving Joel but you think it was probably for the very best, at least Tommy. 

“I’ve got to ask though…” you hesitate, “do you think Joel wants to come out here, bring Tess? Because…fuck, that’s my worst nightmare at the moment Tommy.” 

“I won’t tell him anything,” Tommy shakes his head, “And Maria asked me to not contact him again.” 

“She did?” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t help the relief that floods your chest, “I didn’t know she was going to do that, I…I’ve got to admit I wanted to but Joel’s your brother-” 

“He’s my brother, and I love him,” Tommy interrupts,”but you met him before the outbreak, he isn’t the same person now, hasn’t been for almost twenty years, and Jackson doesn’t need someone like him, he brings too much violence and he only cares about himself.” 

You nod, leaning back in the creaking kitchen chair, the knot in your stomach is unraveling as you let yourself exhale. 

“I’m sorry it has to be that way,” you say, “but I’m relieved, keeping Frankie, and Jack, safe and happy, is all I care about. Maybe I’m like Joel in that respect, but they’re my family, and to me, Joel’s a threat to them.” 

“You’re nothing like Joel,” Tommy replies, “or maybe, we’re all a bit like Joel, keeping our family safe first, but I know my brother’s ways are too violent. It took me a while to understand that, but here, in this community, it’s clear that there can be another way of keeping family safe.” 

… 

When you get back to your house, Frankie’s already back and you can smell the wood smoke from the fireplace. You’re not surprised when you find him flat on his back on the couch, his cap pulled down over his eyes, snoring softly. As you walk into the room he stirs, pushing it up onto his forehead. Years of being a soldier, and living in this new world, has made him a very light sleeper, the years in Jackson haven’t changed that. Now he’s giving you a sleepy smile as he reaches out for you, pulling you down over him when you take his hand. 

“Hey, cariño,” he says, tucking you into his side so that you can stretch out and put your head on his chest, “I missed you when I got home.” 

“Yeah, I was out,” you say, burying your nose into his soft t-shirt, “I went to see Tommy about something.” 

“Mhmm…” Frankie hums, still sleepy as he runs his hand up and down your back, you can feel his lips against the top of your head. 

“How’s Tommy?” he asks eventually and you have to shift so that you can look up at him, his sleepy brown eyes looking up at you. 

“I went to see him about Joel,” you confess and although you expect Frankie to look confused, he just nods and sighs. 

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about Joel coming here too,” he says, pushing his cap further up so that he can see you properly, “Tommy’s the only family he’s got, I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes out here too.” 

“He won’t,” you say, shaking your head, “Tommy told Maria about what kind of man Joel is and she’s asked him not to talk to him again, to not risk him coming here.” 

“And Tommy’s ok with that?” Now Frankie does look surprised as you nod. 

“Yeah, he’s no fool, he knows what kind of man Joel’s turned into. And they didn’t leave it on the best of terms when Tommy joined the Fireflies. And he doesn’t want him to come here either, he knows the type of violence Joel brings.” 

“Cariño, I don’t think Tommy not talking to Joel is going to stop him if he really wants to find him. If you and I could make it across the country, so can Joel, especially if he’s looking for his only brother.” 

“Frankie, I really don’t want him to come here, he can’t come here, I don’t want him even near us,” you push yourself up to sitting and Frankie follows you, but he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. 

“You’re worried I’ll fall back into the same habits as in Boston,” it’s not a question, but you nod as he rubs his hands up and down your back. 

“You shouldn’t worry, cariño,” he says, “even if he does come, I’m not the same man I was in Boston, I promise.” 

“I know, Frankie, he just scares me, he just…” you trail off but Frankie knows what you’re thinking. 

“I know he brought out the worst in me, cariño, but I’m stronger now. I haven’t used drugs in almost nine years, I’ve got both you and Jack, and a purpose in Jackson that’s more important than any of the shit I did in the QZ’s.” He cups your cheek in his warm palm and caresses the soft skin, “If, and it’s a big if, he comes here, it won’t be the same as last time, I know that, hermosa.” 

You nod into his hand and he gives you a warm smile, “Always looking out for me, still don’t know what I’d do without you, cariño.” 

…

Frankie’s words calm you some, and he’s right of course. He is stronger now than he was before, he’s nothing like the man he was after his daughter died, and life has almost returned to normal for the two of you. It’s only the constant patrols, and people’s scars from life outside of Jackson, that remind you of what surrounds Jackson. But as spring turns into summer and then fall, your fear of Joel showing up lessens. Tommy doesn’t contact him again and he doesn’t turn up. Jackson has turned into a busy small town and life keeps you occupied, before you know it, it’s winter again and the town prepares for its official holiday celebration.

…

“Are you going on patrol tomorrow?” Frankie asks you one afternoon as he comes back home, shrugging out of his thick jacket and stomping the snow off his boots. 

“No, not until Saturday, why?” 

“They’re showing ‘The Goodbye Girl’ at the community center tonight, I thought we could go. I have no idea what the movie’s about but apparently it won an Oscar,” Frankie says, giving you a cold kiss as he comes into the kitchen. 

“You’re freezing, Frankie,” you smile and he rubs the icy tip of his nose against your cheek, making you protest when he moves further down and presses it against your neck. 

“It’s freezing outside, I was chopping wood though, kept me warm,” he grins, his warm hands sliding between your sweater and jeans, “But what do you think, wanna go on a movie date with me and Jack?” 

“Sure, sounds nice,” you say, giving up on stopping him from warming his nose up against your skin, his nose is cold but his breath is warm and sends shivers down your spine, “Beats watching Home Alone for like the hundredth time.” 

“Yeah, the movie selection isn’t great,” Frankie chuckles, “I mean, great movie, but how many times have we seen it now?” 

“We need to figure out where the nearest movie theater is and see what’s available,” you say, “What movies were in theaters on outbreak day?” 

“Uuhh…all I remember is that Pope and I went and saw the re-release of Scarface, that was awesome,” Frankie says as he lets go of you to grab a glass and fill it up with water and you lean on the counter next to him. 

“You and I went and saw ‘Lost in Translation’, that’s the last time we went to the movies before it all.” 

“Oh yeah, that was good too,” Frankie nods, “made me wanna go to Japan. Remember we were planning it, seeing if we’d be able to go someday?” 

You sigh and wrinkle your nose, “Let’s change the subject, now I’m bummed we never got to go to Japan, or even on a proper holiday together.” 

“You wanna sip cocktails on the beach with me, hermosa?” Frankie smiles, coming to stand in front of you at the counter, his hands on either side. 

“I would love to sip cocktails on a beach with you, Frankie,” you smile back at him, wrapping your arms around his neck so that you can card your fingers through the curls on his neck, “see you in a cute little speedo, all nice and tan.” 

Frankie snorts, “When did you ever see me in a speedo?” 

“Never, but a girl can dream,” you grin back at him, “Although, I’m not sure what speedo would be able to contain your…’talent’.” 

“I wanna see you in a bikini again,” Frankie says, his voice taking on a lower tone, “I grieve the loss of that yellow bikini you had…” he gives you a mischievous smile, “any chance of finding something like that at the store?”

“Not much need for bikinis in the apocalypse, Frankie,” you laugh, “but I’ll see what I can do, maybe I can use it for gardening in the summer. But on one condition.” 

“Anything, hermosa…” Frankie has pulled you closer, his mind clearly on the lost yellow bikini as you feel his half hard cock pressing into your belly. 

“You help with the gardening, wearing a speedo,” you grin at him as he laughs. 

“Deal, anything to see you in a bikini again,” he says, smiling down at you, “but I can’t promise we’ll get much gardening done.” 

He bends his head down, letting his nose brush against yours, the tip of it warm again as his hand slips up to hold the back of your neck and his lips press against yours. He deepens the kiss, nudging your mouth open with his tongue as you pull him closer. It’s soft as he licks into you, small touches, tasting him as your breaths mingle. 

He’s so familiar now, the way his hand holds your neck, lightly caressing your hair, his other hand at your waist, fingertips grazing whatever bare skin he can reach. You think you could identify him just by the way his thumb rubs small circles into your waist, his touch seared into your brain just as his taste is. Even his tongue is familiar, and the way the tip of his nose always touches the same spot on your cheek when he tilts his head to kiss you deeper. Your fingers run through his curls, finding the well hidden scar from some old army injury, and down to his neck again. 

He hums into your mouth, his cock pressing hard into your soft belly, heat pooling between your legs, before he reluctantly pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“Wish we had more time, hermosa,” he mumbles, “I need to take a shower and I want to take it with you.” 

“Jack will be home any minute,” you say in a low voice, gently scratching the back of his head, “and I should make some dinner before we go to the movie.”

“Alright, raincheck for tonight then,” he smiles, giving you one more kiss, letting it linger, before he pulls away. 

…

The Jackson community center is full as the movie starts playing, movie night is always popular. Jack managed to snag a seat reserved for the children in the middle of the room, and now he sits engrossed in the images playing out on the large white screen hanging on the wall. Frankie and you are standing by the wall, watching the film through the gaps in the audience as people filter in and out. Frankie, thanks to his height, could have a better view, but he prefers to rest his chin on your shoulder as he stands behind you, hands secure around your waist. You can feel his breath tickle your cheek and you lean against his scruffy jaw, briefly closing your eyes to capture the moment in your mind; the warm community hall, Frankie’s soft beard against your skin, his strong arms around your waist and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat behind you, and all around you the smell of fresh popcorn. 

You open your eyes again and look for Jack, he’s got his elbows on his knees, wide eyes staring at the screen, mouth hanging open as he takes in every detail of the scene in front of him. It makes you smile to see him so enthralled by every movie that gets shown here, and it makes you wish you could show him your own favorites from when you were nine, almost ten, you remind yourself. He’ll be ten in a few weeks.

The film doesn’t capture your imagination as much as it does for Jack so you let your eyes drift across the audience, you spot Will and Diana across the hall, but you can’t see Benny and Eve. You look around the room for them, they usually always turn up, only for Benny to moan about the movie selection as you all walk home together afterwards. 

Searching the room you spot Tommy talking to Maria, her hand on the small swell of her pregnant belly, and something about the conversation makes you stop and look at them. When Tommy turns and walks away Maria sees you, and gives you a smile, but it looks tight. You smile back but in the corner of your eye you see Tommy exit the community hall and disappear outside. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a shiver running down your spine, and as you look back at the screen, you can’t focus on it. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, turning to give Frankie’s cheek a kiss, “pee break.” He nods and lets you go as you slip through the crowd, avoiding Maria’s eyes. You don’t know why you need to see where Tommy went, but something in your gut tells you to find out, Tommy’s face said something. 

The air outside is cold as you exit the hall. You left your coat with Frankie so you tuck your arms around yourself as you look up and down the street. It’s empty, only fairy lights and snowflakes. Not sure where to go, you turn and walk down towards the stables, the snow whirling around you. 

Nothing stirs and there’s no sign of Tommy as you make your way past the small shops that serve the community. You’re shivering as you reach the stables and the warm smell of horses and manure envelops you as you crack the door open and slip inside. A soft nicker from the horses closest greets you, the large animals stirring and looking in your direction at the intrusion. Finding old Winston, a graying gentleman now, in his stall, you softly rub his muzzle as he blows warm air at your fingers. 

“All quiet here, old friend?” you ask in a low voice, and Winston snorts gently, lowering his head so that you can reach between his ears. 

“Only my ghosts, I guess,” you whisper, leaning your nose against his soft head as you scratch his forelock. He shifts his weight, putting his muzzle on your shoulder and nipping gently at your sweater. The stable is warm and comforting, the smell of horses familiar and safe, but after a few minutes you pull yourself away, giving Winston a final scratch. 

“I’d better get back before Frankie sends out a search party,” you say, giving him a final pat. 

The cold air makes you shiver as you close the stable door behind you and hurry up the street again. You almost don’t see him coming towards you, a tall man, wrapped in a heavy tan coat, but his boot scuffs against the street, making you look up as he passes under one of the street lights. He sees you, as you see him, stopping in his tracks and you freeze in place. There’s no mistaking him, he’s aged, his hair gray now, but it’s still Joel’s sharp eyes that meet yours. His expression grim as you look at each other for a beat, fear starting to coil in the pit of your belly. 

He glances at the side street, up towards the edge of town, and down at his boots, before he looks up at you again. 

“I’m leaving in the morning.” 

It’s all he says, turning and taking long strides up the street as you stand rooted to the spot, nausea creeping up your throat. 

… 

“Where have you been?” Frankie asks as you open the door to the community center, he’s just coming out of the hall, his coat on and yours in hand, “I was just about to go looking for you.” He notices your shivers and quickly holds out your coat for you, pulling it on and starting to rub his hands up and down your arms, “Why were you outside, what’s going on?” 

“Nothing, I just needed some air after I went to the bathroom,” you quickly lie, “I went down to the stables but I didn’t realize how cold it was until I was coming back.” 

“Crazy girl,” he smiles, “getting frostbites just to say hello to Winston, you spoil that horse.” 

“You know I have a soft spot for him,” you say, letting Frankie lead you back into the hall where the movie is still running. You’re glad for the darkness, standing in front of Frankie again as he keeps rubbing warmth back into your arms. Pretending to watch the movie your thoughts are in turmoil.

Joel is in Jackson. 

You glance over at Maria and see her looking at Tommy with an odd look, he’s standing a little bit in front of her, leaning against one of the wooden pillars, turned away from her. You can only see his profile, but he seems to have the same expression that you can feel on your face, watching the big white screen, but seeing nothing. As if he can feel your eyes on him, he turns his head and locks onto you. You should smile, pretend everything is fine, but you know Tommy knows Joel is in town, you can see it on his face, and Maria knows too. And you can’t hide your fear. 

Behind you Frankie laughs at something that happens in the film, his rumble vibrating against your back, and you tear your eyes away from Tommy and look at the screen. 

…

It’s late as you walk home with the rest of the movie goers, Jack almost stumbling on his feet, yawning widely. Frankie can sense that something is going on, but he says nothing. Instead he pulls you closer under his arm, holding on to Jack’s hand with his other. When you get home he sends you upstairs, giving your hip a squeeze. 

“Go to bed, I’ll lock up and make sure Jack gets to bed,” he says and you nod, kissing Jack goodnight. 

You’re tucked into bed, under the warm covers, but not even close to sleepy as Frankie comes into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. He pulls off his clothes as you watch him from the bed, and he pulls back the covers and climbs in next to you. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles, pulling you into him, both his arms encircling you as you tuck your face into the crook of his neck. His hand comes up to cup the back of your head, caressing you lightly and you can feel his lips pressed against the top of your head. 

“What’s going on, cariño?” he asks, running his hand up and down your back. 

“Joel’s in Jackson,” you say, and his hand goes still on your back. 

“Did you meet him?” Frankie pulls back a little so that he can see your face and you nod. 

“Just for a moment, on the main street. All he said was that he’s leaving tomorrow.” 

“So soon? He must’ve only gotten here today,” Frankie says, sounding surprised, “I heard some of the guys saying a couple of people had been picked up by Maria’s patrol today.” 

“Do you think Maria said he can’t stay?” you ask, “Could Tommy be leaving too? She was looking at him oddly at the movie, just before he left.” 

“Is that why you snuck out?” Frankie asks, “How did you know Joel was in town?” 

“I didn’t, I just got a weird feeling about Tommy leaving,” you reply. Frankie’s gone back to running his hand up and down your back as he furrows his brow, looking lost in thought. 

“With Maria pregnant, would he really leave her?” you ask, “Even if she said Joel had to go?” 

“If he does, leave her, I mean, Tommy’s not the man I thought he was,” Frankie shakes his head, “I can’t see him running out on his child, he’s been so happy about it.”

“If Joel really does leave tomorrow, then the rest is really between Tommy and Maria. And if Tommy leaves her…” you sigh, “then I guess we’ll have to help her anyway we can.” 

“I just can’t see him doing that,” Frankie shakes his head again, “not now, but who knows, if Joel’s back…I don’t know.” 

Frankie goes silent and you have nothing else to say, so you rest your head against his chest again, listening to his steady heartbeat. You’re almost asleep when Frankie presses a kiss to your head. 

“You don’t have to be scared of him, cariño, not now, I promise.” 

“I love you, Frankie,” you mumble and his arms tighten around you. 

“Love you too, hermosa.” 

… 

Joel really is gone the next day, you hear talk of him, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Tommy says nothing and you catch Maria avoiding your eye, but she says nothing either. You think Tommy realizes that you somehow know Joel was in town, but you don’t bring it up, and after a few weeks, the brief encounter with Joel almost seems like something you imagined. 

…

The winter drags on, the snow as thick as the first winter you spent in Jackson. When patrols snow in you find extra work learning how to repair everyday objects. It means you get to work with Frankie as he teaches you about wiring and welding. The first lamp you manage to rewire without his help brings you enormous satisfaction, but Frankie’s smile is worth more. 

“Proud of you, cariño,” he grins as you flick the switch back and forth, watching the lamp blink on and off. 

When the snow finally begins to melt, everyone is eager to get back to patrols, even the horses are unusually frisky. The first real chance to stretch out in a fast gallop makes them all take the bit between their teeth and run, thundering over the fresh spring grass as their riders whoop. As you all finally bring them to a halt, their sides lathering, stomping their hooves and snorting loudly, it feels like the winter is truly over even. 

Your first patrol of the spring is uneventful except for taking down three runners in the distance.

“Fuck,” Benny hollers, as your third shot takes down the third runner, “that’s three for three! You missed your calling as a sniper,” he laughs, scanning the clearing below you for more infected. 

“It’s a skill I never knew I had,” you grin, pulling back the bolt of the rifle and slotting in a new bullet. 

“Well, you had the best teacher of course,” Benny smirks as you both get to your feet, “I was always a better shot than Fish.” 

“Benny, you can take credit for my skills in hand to hand combat any time, but the shooting, that was Frankie,” you laugh. 

He just smirks again, swinging himself into the saddle, “Speaking of hand to hand combat, it’s been ages since we did any training, maybe we should get back to it? I know you and Fish are getting old, but that’s no reason to slack off.” 

“Who are you calling old?” you snort, “You’ve got more gray hair than I do!” 

“Pfft…it’s just the light,” he scoffs and you can’t help but laugh. Benny is still mostly blonde, the youngest of you all, whereas both Will and Frankie were more gray nowadays. Frankie’s patchy beard had started turning gray years ago and now none of his original chocolate brown color remained. 

The ride home is easy, you keep your eyes open and stay alert, but patrolling with Benny is always fun, his easy, golden retriever, energy hasn’t diminished with age. If anything, it’s more pronounced than ever with his daughter Lily. She’s inherited her mother’s ginger curls, but all of Benny’s energy and she runs the Miller household. At least for now.

“How’s Eve doing, one more month to go right?” you ask and Benny nods with a grin. 

“She’s huge, pissed off and hating it, but I’m being the perfect husband, she gets foot rubs every evening.” 

“Good man, Benny,” you laugh, “you’d better keep her happy.” 

“She’s been having the weirdest cravings,” he says, “Where the hell am I supposed to find Reese’s? Or Diet Coke?” 

“Try harder, Benny,” you grin and he gives you a mock scowl before breaking into another big smile. 

“She’s being a fucking champion though, I know she’s struggling, her back’s killing her, so I just try to make sure she can rest as much as she wants.” 

You hear horses behind you and you both turn to look at the approaching riders. You smile as you recognize Frankie’s cap, he’s returning with young Jesse. He’s just become old enough to go on patrols and has been going out regularly with you all to learn the ropes. 

“Hey, how was your patrol?” Benny calls as the two men get close. 

“Quiet, didn’t see anyone or anything,” Jesse says, “but we saw a whole herd of bison, should be good hunting tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, the herds are getting really big,” Benny says as they pull up their horses alongside you. Frankie rides close to you, putting his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. 

“Hey, hermosa,” he mumbles and you lace your fingers between his. 

“Hey, honey,” you smile back at him. 

“Did you guys meet the new arrivals yet?” Jesse asks and you all shake your heads. 

“No, but I heard someone new turned up, yesterday right?” Benny asks. 

“Yeah, a man and his daughter, a teenager.” 

“Where’d they come from,” Frankie looks over at Jesse who waves in a vague way back up north. 

“Somewhere in Utah I think, Salt Lake maybe? But they’re staying up in that green house on McMill’s Lane.” 

“Almost neighbors then,” Benny says, “we’ll have to go and say hello.” 

…

You don’t make the connection, and neither does Frankie, and you don’t go to see your new neighbors straight away. So it’s not until you’re walking out from your house a few days later, Frankie just behind you, that you see them. 

You look up from opening the low gate onto the street as you hear footsteps approaching, and you see him. Joel, slowing down, eyes on you and Frankie, dropping behind the young teenage girl walking in front of him. His face is unreadable, apprehensive maybe, his fingers twitching by his side. You hear Frankie come up behind you and stop, waiting as Joel takes a few more steps down the street.  

The girl with him notices that Joel’s slowed down, “C’mon, I’m fucking starving,” she says, glancing back at him, but she follows his line of sight and spots Frankie and you by the side of the road. She looks between the two of you and then back at Joel, furrowing her brow. Joel picks up his pace again and comes towards you, passing the girl who’s stopped, still looking at between the three of you. 

The silence is awkward, Joel’s jaw ticks and you feel a shiver of fear run down your spine. But Frankie moves first, placing his hand on your lower back, a warm, steady presence, and takes a step forward, holding out his other hand towards Joel. 

“Good to see you, Joel, we didn’t know you were back in town.” 

“Good to see you too, Frankie,” Joel nods, shaking his hand, “We just got here a couple of days ago, been getting settled in.” He gestures back at the girl who’s still standing a few feet behind him, watching the exchange. 

“Hi, I’m Frankie,” Frankie says, giving the girl a wave and a smile, “this is my wife.” 

You give the girl a small wave and your name. You can’t wrap your head around Joel turning up with a teenage girl, you feel like you’re staring at her as much as at Joel. 

“Ellie,” she says, raising her hand in a short wave, stepping closer to Joel. “Can we please go, I really am starving.” 

“Yeah, sure, we’d better get going,” Joel hums, glancing up at you and meeting your eyes for a brief second. 

“Alright, we’ll see you around,” Frankie says, giving the girl a smile, “Nice meeting you too, Ellie.” 

The odd couple make their way down the street as you follow them with your eyes. 

“That was weird,” Frankie says, “Jesse said it was a man and his daughter, but she can’t be Joel’s daughter.” 

“Tommy didn’t say anything about Joel adopting a kid either, back in Boston,” you say as Frankie takes your hand and you start walking down the street, watching Joel and Ellie disappear down towards the community center, “Could she be Tess’s daughter?” 

“Tess didn’t have a daughter, at least not as far as I know,” Frankie shakes his head, “It’s a mystery, and I wonder, where’s Tess, if only Joel is here?” 

“Yeah, true,” you worry at your bottom lip and you feel Frankie glancing at you. 

“Don’t, cariño, don’t worry about him being back,” he says, gently stopping you by pulling on your hand and reaching up to tug your lip from between your teeth, “It won't be anything like before, I promise.” 

“I know Frankie, I trust you, it’s all different now,” you give him a weak smile, “I’m just worried what else he’ll bring.” 

“Let Maria handle him, Maria and Tommy, it’s his brother,” Frankie cups your cheek gently, smiling down at you, “it’s just you, Jack and me, that’s my team. Ok?” 

“Ok,” you reply, your fear dissipating a little and you smile back up at him. He gives your forehead a small peck and takes your hand again. 

“C’mon, then, let’s go find Jack before he accuses us of forgetting about this school play.” 

… 

You see Joel around town the next few days, usually with the teenager, Ellie, in tow. And when you see his name on the patrol schedule you realize they’re staying and the knot in your stomach grows again. You have so many questions, and they all lead back to the graying man who now seems to always hover at the corners of your mind. 

“Fuck it,” you mumble to yourself, turning around and walking back up the small street you live on, past your house, until you’re standing in front of Joel and Ellie’s front door. 

The teenager opens when you knock on the door, and she gives you a guarded smile as she lets you in. 

“Joel, someone here to see you,” she calls into the house, leading you into the kitchen, and you hear footsteps on the stairs. Joel stops in his tracks as he sees you standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, clearing his throat, fingers twitching again. 

“Hey,” is all he manages, giving you a nod before stepping into the kitchen, skirting around Ellie who’s looking between the two of you with a curious face.

“Hi,” you say, your earlier determination slipping away and you retreat to the kitchen counter, leaning against it, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. 

“Uhhm…can I get you something to drink, we’ve got some elderflower cordial. Diana gave us some of her homemade,” 

“I’m fine, thanks,” you say, swallowing and glancing at Ellie who’s quirked her eyebrow and is looking at Joel with a smirk. 

“What’s going on?” she asks, “Why are you being so weird?” 

“Just being polite,” Joel grunts, yanking the fridge door open and pulling out a jug. 

“How do you know Joel?” Ellie asks, looking over at you, and you meet her curious eyes before looking back at Joel, wondering what he’ll say. But he’s busying himself with taking down two glasses from the cabinet, wiping one of them down with the dish cloth. 

“Frankie, my husband, and Joel used to work together back in Boston, years ago,” you say, “Will and Benny are Frankie’s best friends.” 

“Oh yeah, they gave us some stuff,” Ellie says pointing at the dry goods on the kitchen table. 

“Ellie,” Joel suddenly says, his voice gruff, “we’ve got some things to talk about, could you maybe go over and see if Eve needs help with something for a while.” 

“No, I want to know what’s going on,” she says, frowning at Joel, “Is this about what Maria said to you last night?” 

Joel’s eyes are on Ellie and he scowls, “You shouldn’t be eavesdropping on conversations that aren’t meant for you.” 

“Yeah well, talk quieter then,” Ellie scowls back at him and turns to you. “Maria said stuff had happened in Boston with Frankie and-”

“Ellie!” Joel snaps, “That’s none of your business, that’s between me, Frankie and her,” Joel motions to you, and it earns him another scowl from Ellie. 

“Maybe it is her business too, Joel,” you can’t help but speak up, “if she’s living with you, under your protection?” 

“Don’t.” Joel growls, “Don’t bring her into this.” His voice is low, a warning but you clench your jaw, meeting his dark eyes. 

“Like you brought Frankie into it?” you challenge and you see his jaw tick, his fingers wrapping hard around the glass in his hand. 

“Ellie,” he says, not taking his eyes off you, “go help Eve.”

“But I-” 

“Now.” 

Ellie glares at you, “You don’t know him,” she spits out, “you don’t know him at all and-” 

“Ellie, we’ll talk when you’re back,” Joel’s voice is almost pleading with the teenager now and she looks at him. There’s a silent communication between the two of them while they stare at each other, and then Ellie turns around and stomps out from the kitchen, throwing a final angry stare at you. 

The front door slams shut and Joel lets out a sigh. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he says, his voice still tight as he looks at you. 

“She’s awfully loyal to you it seems,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest, “I can’t imagine what you did to earn that kind of trust.” 

“Long story,” Joel says, shaking his head, “Ain’t got nothin’ to do with Frankie and me.” 

“I don’t want you in Jackson, Joel,” you square your shoulders, spitting it out before you lose your nerve. “I’m grateful to you for helping us get away from Boston. But I don’t want you here.” 

“Well, you ain’t the only one it seems,” he replies, giving a twisted grin, “Maria made it very clear last night that I’m only welcome because of Tommy.” 

“I’m not telling you to leave,” you say, “You’re his brother, I wouldn’t do that to him, but he knows how I feel about you.” 

“Things have changed…” Joel begins but you cut him off. 

“You forget I lived with a drug addict for years, long before you came back into the picture. One of the first things Frankie taught me about his addiction was that you can never trust an addict. You’ll say things have changed but I can’t believe you.” 

You study Joel, he’s looking back at you, his fingers still twitching, but he meets your eyes with a steady gaze. 

“I don’t expect you too,” he says finally, nodding, “I can just tell you that things are different now,” he looks over at the door where Ellie disappeared, “She’s the reason things ain’t the same, I’m not the same.” 

His response makes you swallow your sharp retort, Joel’s face softens in a way you have never seen, his eyes still on the spot where the teenager just was. When he looks back at you some of the softness remains. 

“Why?” you ask simply, but he shakes his head. 

“It’s a long story, but I ain’t the same, not at all.”

The silence stretches out in the kitchen as you look at each other, Joel’s face doesn’t harden again, his fingers have stopped twitching, and you feel the knot in your stomach loosen a little. 

“I’m…I’m sorry about Frankie,” Joel finally says, sighing and leaning back against the counter, “I didn’t know then, I didn’t see it, how I affected him. And I’m sorry I sold him the pills. It ain’t no excuse, but you know I was using them just as much, and I just didn’t know he’d already been addicted before.” 

“If you bring drugs back into Jackson, Joel…” your voice is low in warning but Joel shakes his head before you even finish your sentence. 

“I won’t, I promise. Like I said, things are different now.”  He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, mimicking your stance as you observe him. 

You want to believe him, he feels different, but you’re scared. Seeing him again has brought back dark memories of Frankie spiraling out of control, hearing the stories of what he did to others, seeing him passed out on the couch, his guilty, pained face as he left you, even when you asked him to stay. 

Santi. 

You drop your gaze to the toes of your boots, shaking your head. But Ellie’s scowl, her defense of him, the way Joel’s face softened when he thought about the girl, his daughter, it makes you doubt your initial thoughts. 

“Joel…” you say, inhaling slowly, making your mind up, “If you bring drugs here, if you fall back into who you were in Boston, if you bring out the worst in Frankie again….” you pause, looking at him, his face is open, nodding along to what you’re saying, “If your presence here begins to threaten my family…” 

He nods, understanding your underlying threat, and lets you continue. 

“I’ll trust you now, because of Ellie, she’s loyal to you, obviously fiercely loyal, and you must’ve done something to earn that.” 

Joel nods again, his shoulders dropping slightly, and you nod back, the silence stretching between you in the small kitchen as you fall silent.  

Eventually you clear your throat, your piece said, “I’ll see you around, probably tonight if you want to, Sunday dinner at Will and Diana’s, it’s tradition.” 

“Alright,” he replies, “we’ll be seein’ you then.” 

You push yourself off the kitchen counter and walk to the front door, you can hear Joel following you and as you put your hand on the handle he speaks up. 

“I…I just wanna say thanks, for givin’ me a chance,” he says and you give him a small crooked smile. 

“Don’t make me regret it, Joel.” 

“I won’t, I promise.” 

…

You tell Frankie about your conversation with Joel as he cleans up in the bathroom, getting ready to head over to Will and Diana’s for dinner. 

“That girl, Ellie, she seems to have changed him in some ways,” you say, sitting on the toilet seat as he dries off from his shower. It’s taking everything you’ve got to not reach out and trail your fingers through the soft hairs on his belly, the happy trail leading down to… You pull your eyes up to his face, meeting his smirk. 

“Am I distracting you?” he grins, bending down and tilting your chin up with his hand so that he can kiss you as you smile. 

“Always, especially when your dick is right in my face,” you chuckle, “But as I was saying, Ellie was ready to bite my head off for challenging Joel, she’s very loyal to him. He must’ve done something good to earn that kind of devotion, to be her father all of a sudden.” 

“Maybe he has changed, but he’s here now, we’ll just have to wait and see,” Frankie says, pulling on his boxers and then a clean t-shirt. “And cariño, try not to worry. I’m not worried for myself, I’m not the same man I was back then,” he sinks down on his haunches in front of you, cupping your face with both his hands, “You got me through it, you got me here, and with you and Jack in my life now, I’m the strongest I’ll ever be, he can’t get to me again,” he leans his forehead against yours, “Ok?” 

“Ok,” you breathe and he smiles, pressing his lips against yours. 

“Ok then, hermosa,” he whispers, “Let’s go over to Will’s before our son claims we’re starving him.” 

As if on cue you hear Jack shout from downstairs, “I’m hungry! Can we leave now? Please!” 

His dramatic outbreak makes you both giggle as Frankie stands up, pulling you to your feet, “Go calm the ravenous monster we’ve created,” he chuckles, “I’ll see you down there.” 

…

You can hear music from the back garden as the three of you approach Will and Diana’s house. During the warm summer months the Sunday dinner moves outside when the weather allows and tonight the air is balmy and soft. As you round the house and step into the garden you’re greeted by Diana bringing out a tray of meat to the barbecue. 

“Hi guys, right on time! Frankie, can you please bring this to Will, I need to get an extra cushion for Eve.” 

“Sure, I’ve got it,” Frankie says and takes the heavy tray from her. 

“Can I help you with anything, Diana?” you ask and she waves you into the house. 

“Yes please, that tray to the table please,” she says, but as the screen door closes behind the two of you she puts her hand on your arm. 

“Just so you know, Will invited Joel and the girl he arrived with, Ellie, tonight. I hope that’s ok with you and Frankie? Have you seen him yet?” 

“Yeah, I’ve talked to him, it’ll be fine,” you say, giving her a smile, “Or at least I hope it’ll be fine, he seems different, maybe he’s changed for the better.” 

“Ok, that’s good. And I hope you’re right, I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet but I met Ellie in town earlier. She seems like a great kid, very protective of Joel, which surprised me.” 

“Yeah, me too,” you reply, glancing out at the garden. You can see Frankie by the barbecue with Will, Benny is kneeling next to Eve who’s on a sun lounger, Joel and Ellie haven’t arrived yet. “That’s what makes me believe him when he says things are different now, but he’ll have to prove it too.” 

“Alright, I’ll take my cues from you,” Diana says, “just let me know if you need our help to kick him out of Jackson if he misbehaves,” she gives you a wicked grin and it makes you laugh. 

“Thanks, I’ll let you know if it comes to that.” 

Diana grabs a tower of glasses and a large jug, “Come on then, lets get poor Eve something to drink, she’s so fed up with this baby now.” 

You pass out drinks to everyone, handing tall glasses to Will and Frankie before grabbing your own and standing next to the two men by the grill. Frankie’s hand drifts down to the small of your back and you lean into him, taking comfort in his presence, his warm body next to you and his hand slowly circling over your t-shirt. They’re talking about putting together a larger hunting party and culling the local bison herd once the young calves are old enough to be separated from their mothers. 

You listen to them with half an ear, waiting for Joel and Ellie to show up. You feel on edge, despite what you said to Diana, it’s as if you can’t relax before you’ve seen Frankie and Joel together. 

You spot them arriving with Tommy and Maria, Tommy proudly holding their month old baby boy in his arms. Joel comes in after Ellie, she’s looking shy, glancing around the garden but Jack spots her and runs over. You’d talked to him earlier about Ellie being new in town and asked him to look out for her, thinking it would be easier for her to talk to someone her own age, even though she looks to be a few years older than him. You smile as you see Jack wave her over to the table where Diana has set out drinks and popcorn as snacks while everyone waits on the meat to be done. Jack pours the elderflower cordial in two glasses and offers one to Ellie with a flourish that makes you stifle a giggle. 

“He’s quite the gentleman,” you hear Will chuckle and you look up to see both men watching the interaction, “you raised him well, Fish.” 

“I had to, or she’d never forgive me,” Frankie smiles, giving your hip a small squeeze. 

“I asked him to take care of Ellie,” you say, “it’s intimidating to turn up to a party where you know no one.” 

“He’s doing a great job,” Will says, turning back to the meat, “We’ve got about ten minutes until the meat is done I think.”

“I’m gonna go say hello to Joel,” Frankie says, “I haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet.” He drops a kiss on your cheek and walks over to where Joel is talking to Tommy, the baby now in Eve’s lap on the other side of the garden. 

You watch the two men shake hands as Tommy excuses himself, going over to Eve and Maria. 

“You’re worried,” Will says in a low voice, a statement rather than a question, and you pull your eyes from Frankie and look over at him. His steady blue gaze is on you as he lets the meat rest. 

“I guess,” you confess, “less than I was before, but…yeah…it’s hard seeing him with Frankie after all that happened.” 

“I talked to him, to Frankie I mean,” Will says, “he knows how worried you are, but he’s confident Joel can’t get to him like he used to. And I agree.” He smiles at you, a small quirk of his lips, “Frankie’s not the same, not at all, you know that too.” 

“I know, of course I know,” you sigh, “and Joel doesn’t seem to be the same either, but…you know…” you trail off, looking at Will who nods. 

“Give it time, if Joel has changed you have nothing to worry about. If he hasn’t changed, Frankie certainly has, and you have nothing to worry about either.” 

“Yeah, I know you’re right,” you say, looking back at Frankie and Joel. You can read Frankie’s body language better than anything, and he looks relaxed, an easy smile on his face as he says something to Joel and motions over at Jack and Ellie. Even Joel smiles as he looks at Ellie, busy trying to catch the popcorn Jack is tossing at her mouth. 

Maybe things really will be fine now. 

You sit next to Frankie at the dinner table, Joel and Ellie across but slightly to the side. The patio table, made for six, which once only saw you and Frankie, has been expanded to accommodate the large group now sitting around it, thirteen individuals, including the children. 

It’s incredible, you think, as you look around the table, how the community grows, how your extended family has grown. Even if you don’t count Joel and Ellie to that group, they’re still family to Will and Benny, and they’re your family. 

But as usual, at every Sunday dinner, the four of you all remember the people that are missing. It’s inevitable to see the three old friends from Delta Force together, and not touch upon the memory of Pope. It hurts less now, you can think about him, you and Frankie can even joke about him. And when you see Lily stick out her tongue to her dad, it reminds you of Lucía at the same age, as you look around the table, you miss the people who should be there too. 

Will raises his glass, as he usually does, and looks at Benny, Frankie and you, “To Pope,” he says with a smile and everyone raises their glasses, Joel too. Only Ellie looks confused but she drinks as everyone else drinks. 

“Alright, tuck in,” Will waves his hand over the spread and Jack dives for the fattest sausage with a happy yelp, making everyone laugh. 

Platters and bowls are passed around as plates are piled high and soon everyone is following Will’s orders and tucking in. 

“Who’s Pope?” Ellie asks around a mouthful of burger that she's carefully constructed, watching Jack build his own. “And this is like the tastiest thing ever,” she says, swallowing down her mouthful and taking another large bite. 

Your eyes flick up to Joel and you can sense the mood shift around the table, Maria and Tommy both glance over at you, Frankie’s hand falls onto your leg and Will clears his throat. But it’s Joel who speaks up. 

“Pope was an old friend, back in Boston,” he says, “Especially to Will, Ben and Frankie, they served in the army together before the outbreak.” He looks up at Frankie who’s got his eyes on his food, his thumb rubbing across your jeans. Ellie catches on to the tension and looks over at Joel. 

“What happened?” she asks, glancing between the three of you, this kid is clearly too perceptive for her own good, you think, just as Joel begins to answer. 

“He...he died. FEDRA in Boston executed him, I…fucked up something, it’s a long story, you don’t need to hear the whole thing.” 

“Maybe she does, Joel,” Maria suddenly says and from the corner of your eye you see Tommy grab her hand as if to stop her. 

“Why? What did you fuck up?” Ellie asks, still looking at Joel, and then Frankie and you.

“It doesn’t matter Ellie, not now,” Joel says, his voice sharper now, telling her to quit it. 

“Is that why she’s all weird around you?” Ellie plows on, nodding to you, ignoring Joel’s tone.

“Joel’s right, Ellie,” you say, “It doesn't matter now, we can put it behind us.” 

“But Maria said stuff had happened with Frankie and you and now his wife doesn’t want you here. Do you want him to leave too?” The last thing she says to you and you have to shake your head. 

“No, not now,” you reply, “But I admit, I didn’t want him here when he first came, because of what happened in Boston,” you look straight at Ellie, deciding it’s best to treat her as an adult, be honest with her. “Joel did things in Boston, you don’t need to know what, that made me not trust him, but I’m giving him a second chance.” 

Ellie meets your look with a steady look of her own, and you feel like you’re being evaluated by the teenager. 

“It’s ok, Ellie,” Joel says, “She’s looking out for her family, that’s all, and she’s right not to trust who I was in Boston.” 

“But you’ve changed and…”

“But she doesn’t know that, so for now, I need to earn back that trust.” His tone says ‘leave it’. 

Ellie looks up at him and he gives her a nod, his eyebrows raised and she seems to concede, looking back at her burger and taking another bite. 

Frankie’s hand is still on your jeans, grounding you, as you glance over at Jack. He’s looking at you, wide eyed and worried, his own burger forgotten. Frankie suddenly takes your hand, his long fingers wrapping around yours. 

“C’mon, family council,” he says softly, “Jack, c’mon, you too, son.” 

No one says anything as the three of you leave the table and walk around the side of the house, Frankie scooping Jack up into his arms even though he’s really too big to be carried by his dad anymore. He stops as you all reach the front porch, placing Jack down on the stairs. 

“C’mere, cariño,” Frankie pulls you down on the step just below the one he sits on, so that he can wrap one arm around you, and the other around Jack. 

“Jack, I know you don’t know what happened when we lived in Boston,” he says looking over at the young boy, “And you don’t need to know all the details, but I think you’re old enough to know the story at least.” 

Jack looks serious as he nods, and you wrap your arm around his waist, the other around Frankie so that you’re sitting in a little huddle on the porch stairs. 

“I used to be a soldier, Jack, before the outbreak,” Frankie says and Jack lights up. 

“You flew helicopters, I know!”

“Yeah, I did, exactly, but I did a lot of other things too, things that left bad marks on my mind, things that gave me nightmares and left me feeling like a bad person,” Frankie says and Jack nods along, listening intently.  

“I was very unhappy, until I had a daughter, your sister Lucía. She made me want to be a better person, and I managed to get past the bad thoughts.” 

“But you still have nightmares,” Jack says, his face worried, he’s been woken up on a few occasions by Frankie’s shouts, when you haven’t been able to calm him. 

“I do, I think I will probably always have them, but it was much worse back then,” Frankie strokes Jack’s head, calming the boy before he continues, “Lucía, she died when the outbreak happened, and…I almost died too, when I lost her, it broke my heart because I loved her so much.” 

Jack nods solemnly, he knows this part of the story, Frankie had told him not too long ago about Lucía. 

“And then we had to survive the first few years of this new world, and it wasn’t anything like Jackson,” Frankie continues, his hand starting to rub over your shoulder as he looks at you, “It was dangerous, and all the things I’d done as a soldier, all my nightmares and bad thoughts, they came back and I didn’t handle them very well.” 

“What did you do?” Jack asks and Frankie looks back at him, pulling him closer. 

“I started taking special types of pills, they’re a drug that makes you feel better at first, but soon they just make you feel worse than ever, but then I couldn’t stop taking them. And my nightmares got worse, and I wasn’t acting like myself. I was very angry and scared, I thought your mom would leave me, that she’d be fed up with my problems and not want to be with me anymore.” 

At this Jack looks over at you with a worried frown and you give him a reassuring smile.   

“I never, ever thought about leaving him, and I kept telling him, but he was so unhappy, so broken after all that had happened, that he didn’t believe that I would want to stay with him. He didn’t think he deserved me.” 

“It’s hard to explain, Jack, even now, but I thought that I was a really bad person, and that she’d be happier if she didn’t have to deal with my mess.” 

“But you’re not a bad person?” Jack says, looking up at Frankie who has to shake his head. 

“I’ve done bad things, Jack, both as a soldier, and afterwards, but I was having trouble understanding that it didn’t make me a bad person.”

“No, Jack, your dad isn’t a bad person,” you say, pulling both of them closer into your little huddle, “He never was, he just couldn’t handle all the bad things that happened to him in a very good way.” 

“And when we were in Boston, Joel was like me,” Frankie says, “He was angry and very unhappy, but he didn’t have someone like your mom to help him out of it. And when I worked with him, we weren’t good for each other, and together we did some very bad things…” Frankie trails off, looking at you, sighing deeply. 

“Jack, what I did…” he says eventually, looking back at the boy, “it led to my best friend dying and it makes me feel very bad, thinking about it. Before he died he told me it wasn’t my fault but I still feel like it was, I made terrible mistakes, and I miss him every day.” 

Frankie pauses and you pull him closer, pressing your cheek against his chest while Jack looks up at him.

“That’s what happened in Boston, Jack,” Frankie says and Jack nods, his eyebrows wrinkled as he thinks. 

“But you didn’t kill tio Santi?” he asks eventually and you answer before Frankie can. 

“No, he didn’t, not at all.” 

“But I feel guilty about it,” Frankie says, “it was my mistake that put him in danger.” 

“Are you ok now though?” Jack asks, “You still have nightmares.” 

“I’m fine now, Jack, even though I have nightmares sometimes, but your mom takes care of me when I have them, like she always takes care of me,” Frankie says and Jack smiles at you.  

“I just wanted you to know what happened in Boston, Jack, why we came to Jackson. I left all of that behind me when we came here, and it’s been a long time since then, do you understand?” 

Jack nods and Frankie tucks him into his side, the boy wrapping his arms around his dad’s waist and you smile up at the two of them. 

“C’mere, cariño,” Frankie mumbles, nudging your chin up with his free hand and bending down to you. His lips are soft and he smells of wood smoke and barbecue when he kisses you. It’s a small, gentle press, his scruffy mustache tickling your mouth, you can feel his smile and you cup your hand around his neck, holding him close. 

Jack makes a retching noise next to you, burying his face in Frankie’s t-shirt. 

“Ewww, gross!”

THE END

That's it, end of the story after wrapping it up with Tommy, Joel and Ellie arriving in Jackson too (of course). I'm relieved and drained, so ready to shoot this out into to space and start something new, to change perspective. It's been incredible writing this story and having all your feedback some at me every time I post a new chapter and I can't thank you enough (again).

Love you all!

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

[afewproblems]

"What's he doing here?" Eddie growls as he walks into the trailer kitchen, tossing his leather jacket onto the nearest chair and yanking open the fridge with stiff jerky movements.

He glares at his uncle Wayne who glares right back, the twin expressions spit fire across the kitchen as Eddie slams the fridge door with a beer now in hand. He tries not to feel guilty about the sudden jerk of movement in the periphery of his vision, the flinch.

Steve Harrington sits at the other end of the kitchen table, he's picking at his nails and his face is tilted down towards the table as though the checkered tablecloth is the most captivating thing he's ever seen. Steve is sitting strangely, hunched over slightly at an angle but Eddie doesn't care.

Eddie learned a lot from his uncle Wayne, how to shave, how to tell if eggs were about to expire, and how to make a good cup of coffee.

He learned how to argue from his dad.

Vicous words and loud voices, slamming doors and heavy stomping feet.

It's certainly not his best quality, but it's effective.

"What is he doing here Wayne, he made it very clear that we," Eddie gestures at himself and his uncle with wild hands, "could fuck off for all he cared!"

Steve flinches again, it takes everything in Eddie not to turn and yell at him.

"Eddie, if you're going to be a damn nuisance then you can get out of my kitchen," Wayne says calmly but there is an undercurrent of anger in his words as he moves the coffee mug he was drinking from away from himself.

Steve turns slightly and makes to get up but Wayne holds out an arm without looking at him, his glare is still fixed on Eddie.

"Edward, I mean it, you're not helping so leave".

The last vestiges of Eddie's self control bubbles away as he finally boils over.

"How could you take his side! You're supposed to be my family, not his!" Eddie snarls, righteous fury radiates out from his chest and into his limbs, he wants to break something.

"He didn't want us, he left us remember," Eddie shouts as he points at Steve who curls further into himself and tries to get up again.

"Steven you stay right where you are," Wayne grinds out, he takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, and releases it through his nose.

"Eddie, you can either stay and help, or you can be angry and leave, your choice, you get 10 seconds to decide," Wayne says after a beat, he still has the same glare etched into his face but a hint of weariness seeps through.

Wayne turns away from Eddie and faces Steve once more, he grabs one of their clean tea towels from the table in front of him and gestures for Steve to raise his face.

That's when Eddie finally sees the open first aid kit on the table.

All at once the rage dissipates as Eddie stares at Steve in horror.

His normally beautiful face is covered in blood. Mottled yellow and purple bruising blooms over his cheekbone just underneath a swollen-shut eye. The white of Steve's other eye has turned scarlet and a deep gash has opened up across his nose.

Wayne tips their rubbing alcohol bottle into the cloth and gently begins to dab and clean away the blood from Steve's face.

Steve breathes in as the cloth makes contact with the gash on his nose, Wayne murmurs an apology but continues.

"This'll need stitches," Wayne sighs as he gets up to wash his hands at the sink, "I'll need to grab a few more things from the bathroom, think you two can behave yourselves in the meantime?"

Steve nods mutely while Eddie continues to stare, he looks away towards Wayne and manages a tight nod.

Wayne turns and walks out of the kitchen leaving them alone, something they haven't done for two long weeks.

"I'm sorry," Steve mumbles after a beat, he blinks sharply and sniffs wetly, running a shaking hand over his nose, "for what I said, I didn't mean it," the words stutter and stop as Steve clears his throat.

Eddie stands frozen to the spot, for the second time in his life, he's been rendered absolutely speechless.

The first time was when Steve had told him he loved him.

"I, uh, I did what you said Eds," Steve continues, his voice wobbles slightly and pitches up in that tell-tale way that Eddie knows means he's trying not to cry, "wanted to be brave for you and," he waves the same hand in front of his face with a sad laugh, "I'm uh, not..." he sniffles again.

The last sniffle seems to jumpstart Eddie again, he crosses the distance between them and takes over Wayne's vacant seat, Steve's one eye tracks his movement as he stops speaking and stills.

Eddie swallows, it feels like rocks going down, he hates that Steve is afraid of him, of his reaction.

He slowly reaches for Steve's hand that rests on the table, watching his face for the slightest change, he pauses just before their fingers touch, uncertain if it will be welcome.

Steve meets his gaze, his one good eye traces over Eddie's face for what feels like an eternity before he slowly turns his palm up and crooks his fingers.

Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief and closes the gap, smoothing his fingers lightly over Steve's palm and up his wrist, the movement pushes up the sleeve of Steve's shirt revealing purple bruises that dot his pale skin.

Fuck.

"Can't go home anymore," Steve whispers, he grazes his own fingers across Eddie's arm in small circles, "I know you’re mad, but I didn't know where else to go--"

"You're always welcome here kid," Wayne says as he strides back into the kitchen, his hands holding their suture kit, "that hasn't changed," Wayne grumbles pointedly at Eddie, who grimaces as another small flicker of anger rekindles in his chest.

Eddie looks away from Wayne to find Steve watching him, his eye boring into Eddie's with an unreadable expression on his bruised face.

The thing is, Eddie wants to let it all go.

He wants to take Steve into his arms, tell him everything is going to be okay and that he can of course stay with them.

But he can't.

The hurt is still too fresh, too raw.

He's so angry still, angry with Steve.

Angry at Wayne, angry with himself for letting it go too far.

Eddie slowly, gently, takes his hand back and stands up from Wayne's chair, gesturing for his uncle to take the seat back.

Steve's empty hand stays palm up as his gaze follows Eddie to the door of the kitchen.

Eddie turns into the hallway without a backwards glance.

And if his heart breaks all over again as he hears Steve begin to softly cry in the kitchen while Wayne tells him everything will be alright?

Well, no one needs to know.

[yourlocalcryptidfolklore]

Shane Dating Headcanons pt 2 - NSFW

As the title says, this is a continuation of my last post- but a NSFW version. So yeah- MDNI. Get lost. Go do your homework kiddos. Not that minors should be on my page at all but especially not rn.

I would still say this is gender neutral but there is going to mentions of your genitalia and his own. Also going to mention makeup.

Anyway my lovelies, NSFW below the cut/below the gif.

☆ Shane definitely is a horny guy. I don't know how to explain it but he just is.

☆ And now that he's drinking less, he needs a new form of stress relief! So I hope you got a high drive babes.

☆ Of course he'd never force anything on you. He isn't that kind of a person. He's aware he has a hand and he knows how to use it.

☆ Anyway, when you guys DO fuck for the first time, he's definitely confident about it. He used to be a lot hotter in his eyes, but he has expirence. So long as you don't mind the dad bod- and yes- he has a dadbod idc. As I fat person I claim him for the fat people. I'll still rail him like there's no tomorrow.

☆ If you headcanon him as cis - Definitely has thick meat. It's nothing jaw dropping okay well maybe it is, but if you decide to do anal/oral or vaginal (assuming you have a vag), it fills you up pretty well.

☆ If you headcanon him as FTM - I would say he's got a bit of a bush on his vag. He'd shave it if you ask but he doesn't mind it. He would also have hair on his dick IMO, Bro is depressed and so am I. I know damn well if you're bed rotting you ain't gonna shave your puss puss.

☆ If you have a peen-ween - Shane knows what to do with it. It's fairly simple for him. His favorite thing to do to get you worked up is probably to grind against you or add some pressure to get you hard.

☆ "Oh my... did I get you all riled up?"

☆ Teases you about it if you're comfortable with that.

☆ If you have a vajooja - Still knows what he's doing, but he does have to work a little more to start up your engine since it might be a little bit harder to just put his leg near you and make you horny.

☆ Still, he'll put a hand on your thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze and watching you blush. Teasing you by moving it up reaaaallllyyyy close, then once you look flustered, he'll just stop innocently.

☆ He likes making his partner blush, he especially loves if you get all shy about it.

☆ Now onto kinks. Look at him. Look at the sad chicken man. Then look me in the eyes and say he isn't even the tiniest bit kinky.

☆ Definitely likes ruuning your makeup if you wear any. He wants you to be a mess. He loves looking as you with your hair all over, mascara down your face, clothes thrown all over, fucked apart until you're on another plane of existance.

☆ He also loves doing you in his clothes. Whether they're tight, loose, or just right, he will go bonkers if he gets to fuck you in his shirt.

☆ Will dirty talk as mean as you like it, but will also praise you as much as you wan't. I feel like Shane isn't a generally picky guy. Bro is just happy to be here.

☆ He will also try most kinks at least once to test the waters if you ask him too, so don't be shy! He's happy to make you happy :))

Alright my dears that's enough being horny for pixels.... for now. If you have any questions or want any elaborations on a headcanon feel free to drop an ask!

Oh and drink water. Can't thrist over fictional characters if you aren't hydrated!

Take care my lovelies!

[omgellendean]

Thread 🧵

We hated the “aid” food we got during the Bosnian Genocide soooo much that we literally erected a “monument” to the Intl Community as a very sarcastic “thank you” for the shitty food they sent us. People undergoing genocide are still deserving of dignity and decent food!!!!

People want passive victims who will kiss their asses for sending them garbage. Westerners waste food like nobody else in the world, they gorge themselves on food on a daily basis and yet they think they get to lecture genocide survivors for daring to say the aid is crap. I grew up eating dandelion tea, pita made from nettles and sugar between bread which was carefully cut up and shared equally between all 20 of us living in one 3 bedroom apartment during the Bosnian Genocide. You know nothing of what it means to be hungry. I refused the aid food. It is infuriating to watch as some of the world’s most privileged people speak about war zones and people enduring a genocide. You know absolutely fucking NOTHING about what it means to be starving, being bombed mercilessly, massacred due to your identity. Women in Bosnia would still dress up every single day during the genocide. They would put on their make-up and their favourites clothes. It was an act of resistance in the midst of a brutal genocide. People were seeking out dignity where they could find it. B/c people in war zones, people suffering a genocide are still human beings. They are entitled to dignity. They are entitled to have decent food to eat. They are not required to be whatever pathetic concoction you’ve made up in your heads about what a genocide survivor must be. After the war, a Kosovo refugee family was taken in by my family. Five of them lived with us. They were starving by the time they got to us. You think we gave them canned beans and expired food? No, we made them healthy, delicious home cooked meals!! B/c they deserved that! You don’t get to give people expired and disgusting food and call yourself their saviour. They are not deserving of less because they are suffering and have nothing. You want genocide survivors to be passive victims who kiss your asses for the bare minimum. Fuck that & fuck you. Also, I just want to note for the assholes who are saying “well if its good enough for our troops”. 1. These are regular humans, not soldiers who signed up willingly for the army & knew what they were getting into. 2. Soldiers are provided with MREs every 8 hours. The people in Gaza do not get MREs every 8 hours, they get barely one meal and often they have to share it with others because there is NOT enough aid being provided because Israel keeps blocking aid trucks from getting into Gaza to provide people with food! A single MRE is NOT enough for a family, its not enough for a single person even. & even if was…people do not have to like it. If it tastes gross, if its expired, if its moldy as many have reported the aid is…people do not have to be “grateful” for it. And when every single human rights organisation, when every single IHRL mechanism is stating “hey, people in Gaza are being starved. Israel isn’t allowing aid in. Kids are dying of starvation and malnutrition” then maybe you should stfu and listen to the damn experts. I just don’t understand how utterly devoid of empathy you must be to minimise the suffering and starvation of an entire people despite all the evidence. How vile of a human you must be to demand they be grateful for the leftover crumbs you sent them, while you fund their genocide

[scourge-lover]

Kindred Spirits

I headcanon Wrathion has chronic migraines due to when his egg was purified by that titan device. He's partially made from the dead corpse of a whelp. I headcanon the whelp died from blunt force trauma to the head, which has transferred to Wrathion.

Wrathion gets one of his migraines at the worst possible time. Luckily someone comes to his aid.

A searing inferno of pain raged inside of his skull. It obliterated all of Wrathion's senses. Blanketed him so thoroughly that nothing could have taken him away from the pain, except perhaps his death. The mogu spirits that haunted the ruin he was exploring would no doubt be tearing him apart even as the pain smothered. He could not defend himself.

Curse his existence! His bravado fell away whenever his skull split in two. Confidence, or arrogance, could not cure the agony. Nothing had ever helped Wrathion and every time he tried a new potion or asked a healer for help, the failures only added to his despair. Why even go on? Wrathion was created to be uncorrupted and it was successful, but he was crippled from it. How would he be able to accomplish anything in his life so burdened? Perhaps Deathwing should have crushed him in the egg.

Still the pain roared on like a wild beast. Death did not come to him. Was he condemned to endure the pain even after his expiration?

Something kept the damned spirits away from Wrathion. Despite the pain, suddenly he felt the temperature chill considerably around him. Noises, undecipherable, swirled around him.

Relief finally came unexpectedly. A very human shaped hand caressed his face. He felt like he had been teleportd from the heart of a volcano to a crisp winter's day freshly blanketed with snow. Another hand touched his forehead, just where the bane of his existence endured.

The affliction pitifully retreated to its cave in Wrathion's head. Soothing, painless cold replaced it.

Wrathion opened his eyes and looked up. His ruby eyes met sapphire ones. Both rubies and sapphires were made corundum but while rubies were only red, all other colors were called sapphires. Fundamentally, they were the same.

Sapphire cupped Wrathion's face in her hands, concern written all over her face. Wrathion saw no impurities in this pale jewel.

"Are you alright?" She exclaimed in her feathery voice. Wrathion dimly took in his surroundings. There were no more spirits eager for warm blood. Only one remained in the room, cowering in the corner. It shook with terror.

Suddenly aware of his predicament, Wrathion pulled away from Sapphire, shields raising up immediately. He regained his composure and brushed off his clothes.

"Of course I'm fine! Did you stalk me here?" He demanded.

She withered at his harsh tone but recovered quickly and snapped back, "I sensed you were in trouble!"

He rolled his eyes dismissively and tried to stand up. His entire body felt like jelly and he fell back. Sapphire lunged forward and caught him.

"Get off!" Wrathion tried to fight back from her ministrations.

Instead of letting go, she hissed at him as if she were a feral cat. Wrathion was taken aback by the inhuman response. Why was she so strange? She then let go of him and let him hit the stone floor. Wrathion winced.

"Fine, lay on the floor!" She said, turning her head upwards haughtily.

Wrathion grunted. Every time an attack came on, he needed hours of bedrest to fully recover. This was not an ideal place to convalesce. He refused to look the girl in the eye. So he took note of her scars. Most of them looked painful.

Wrathion sighed calmly, "Perhaps I need assistance."

Sapphire's face broke out into a smile. She gestured at his body.

"Turn into your whelp form. I can carry you!"

The indignity of it all. Lugged around like a sack of potatoes? It took a moment for him to decide. Wrathion shrunk into his whelp form, at Sapphire's mercy. At least she did not squeal in delight like usual.

She gently wrapped her hands around him and picked him up as if he could break. She tucked his tiny body into her scarf and tightened it around him so he would not fall out. Only his head remained visible. He puffed out a stream of smoke grumpily.

"Do NOT tell Anduin about this," He threatened.

[gayfortheplot]

Zombie apocalypse au, but it's just Touya and Jin left. All they have to their name is a car and the clothes on their backs. They haven't seen a living person in years. They fight constantly because they both know they can't keep going like this, but Touya's too stubborn to try anything else. He keeps telling Jin that they just need to drive and never stop. But Jin knows they only have enough fuel to last a few days and Touya's bit. Jin knows about it. Touya completely changed after he got bit like he doesn't care anymore because he knows he's going to die. Jin offers to go out with him because he doesn't want to leave Touya alone, and Jin doesn't want to be alone himself. All they have is each other, and Jin will be damned if they lose that. Touya keeps refusing, telling Jin that he'll be fine. They both know he won't be, but Touya doesn't want to take Jin's life. They fight over that too, Jin just wanting to pull over and take out the gun in the glove compartment, Touya threatening to throw it out the window whenever Jin brings it up. They park by the beach and sit on the roof of their car, drinking the one bottle of alcohol they find stashed away in the trunk. It tastes awful, filled with dead flies, but it's the only comfort they've had in a long while, so they pretend. They pretend they're on their honeymoon, watching the moonlight cascade over the ocean waves. They pretend they're still in love. They pretend that everything's fine and that life is great. They pretend like Touya's life doesn't have an expiration date. They pretend the wine tastes good.

And when Touya gets too sick to move, Jin pretends that his husband had a good life. He pretends that he'll find Touya again in the afterlife someday. He pretends to believe all the pretty words he murmurs into Touya's ear as he holds him. And he pretends that Touya smiles and tells Jin that he loves him when he dies in his arms.

[lolitastories]

GHOST

Chapter 14

For the last couple days in Argentina I have been wandering around. Mostly tourist attractions during the day and bars at night. Alone, but that doesn't matter when you are practically tipsy every hour of the day. One time I swore I almost got something mixed in my drink. That and the fact that my visa was expiring, it told me it was time to leave. When I woke up in the hotel after sleeping off my drunkenness I took a look at the clock and it read 10. “Stupid headaches” I’ve always been prone to but that didn’t mean it made it any easier with every hangover. I cradle my head before gaining enough strength to stand up and make my way to a cold shower. Of course that was before I noticed a dark figure in the middle of the room. I pull out my gun aiming it at the unknown figure. “I really don’t feel like dealing with you right now” I groaned. The figure didn’t move or respond. My breathing started to get shaky, it's been a while since I had to harm anyone.

“You’re not going to shoot me, are you, mi amor?” His stupid proud voice sent anger to my body

“What the fuck Javier” I huffed letting the gun fall to my side. I feel his presence get closer as all I can still make out is his figure. There is a light cast of the moon coming through the window onto the bed. He leans forwards to see the papers laying there."Again, you are just leaving without a word? No explanation, no nothing?"

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I don’t owe you any explanation Peña.” I come closer, removing the plane ticket from his hand. “It was just a fling, Javier. Don't make it more than it was."His jaw clenched, his voice low and menacing.

"A fling? You think I'd risk everything for a fling?" Suddenly, he pinned me against the wall, his body pressed against mine. "I care for you, damn it. And I won't let you just walk away."His lips crashed onto mine, aggressive and possessive. I tried to push him away, but he held me firm. As we kissed, his hands roamed my body, claiming me as his own. I felt a thrill of excitement mixed with fear. He broke away, his eyes burning with intensity. "You're staying with me. Tonight, and every night after that."With that, he swept me into his arms, carrying me to bed.As we crashed into the bed, Javier's lips devoured mine, his hands roaming my body with a fierce possessiveness. I felt his erection, hard and insistent, and I knew I was done for. his eyes burning with intensity as he tore off his clothes. I followed suit, my heart racing with anticipation.His body covering mine, his lips claiming me as his own. I felt his fingers tracing my curves, his touch setting me ablaze. There was no time to think as his hand moved downwards.He entered me with a fierce cry, his thrusts powerful and demanding. “Tell me this isn’t more than just a fling?” I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The room was a blur of passion and desire,it was intense and all-consuming. Biting my lips to hold on the moans he was causing me. Nails clawing his back. His hands were everywhere, his lips burning my skin.As we reached the peak, Javier's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze burning with possession. "You're mine," he growled, his voice low and husky.

I nodded, my body shuddering with release. "I'm yours," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

As we collapsed, exhausted and spent, Javier's arms wrapped around me, holding me close. "You're not leaving me again," he whispered, his voice filled with a fierce determination as he left a trail of kisses on my neck until he reached my lips again.

I smiled, feeling a sense of belonging. "I'm not going anywhere," I replied, my heart filled with a newfound love, at least that's what it felt like at the moment. As we lay there, the silence between us grew thicker, like a fog that refused to lift. The sex haze had worn off, and reality came crashing back.Javier was the first to break the silence, his voice low and hesitant.

"We need to talk."I nodded, knowing he was right.

"Yeah, we do." He turned to face me, his eyes searching mine.

"What's going on with us? One minute we're at each other's throats, the next...this." I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts.

"I don't know. I just know I can't keep doing this, Javier. The push and pull, the anger and the passion...it's exhausting." Javier's expression softened, his eyes filling with a warmth that made my heart skip a beat.

"I know. Me neither. I want us to work, but we need to find a way to communicate without tearing each other apart."I nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope but it came crashing down just as fast. I took a long breath knowing I had to speak my mind. I shook my head, feeling a pang of sadness.

"Javier, I can't be with you. I have a life, a life where I can't put anyone in harm's way. And your life...it's not exactly safe, is it? And it includes partying, the girls...it's a life I can't be a part of."

Javier's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with frustration. "So you're saying I'm not good enough for you? That my life is too much for you to handle?"I reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

"No, Javier, that's not what I'm saying. It's just...I have responsibilities, people who depend on me. And your lifestyle...it's not compatible with mine." Javier's face twisted in a scowl.

"You're just like all the others, judging me without even trying to understand me.” his arm

slid away from under my head. He sits up running his hands through his hair. "What's really driving you away? Is it me? Something I did?" I sighed, feeling a deep sorrow.

"Javier, that's not fair. I do understand you, and that's why I know we can't be together. You deserve someone who can keep up with your lifestyle, someone who can be a part of your world without worrying about the consequences. Everything you did we made the choice together.” Javier's eyes narrowed, his voice cold.

"So you're saying I'm not capable of change? That I'm stuck in this life forever?" I hesitated, knowing I had to be honest.

"I'm saying that I don't know if you can change,and I don’t want you too Javier. And even if you could, I don't know if I'm the right person to help you.” Javier's eyes flashed with anger.

"You're so quick to judge me, but what about you? You're not exactly perfect, are you? You've got your own issues, your own secrets."I felt a sting from his words, knowing he was right.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," Javier sneered. "I know all about your family, how you've cut them out of your life. And it's not just because you want to keep them safe, is it? It's because you've got commitment issues, because you can't bear to let anyone get close to you." That's too stupid. I felt a surge of defensiveness, but deep down, I knew he was right.

"That's not true," I lied.Javier laughed, a harsh sound.

"Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you push people away, the way you refuse to let anyone in. You're afraid of getting hurt, afraid of caring too much."His words hit too close to home, and I felt a lump form in my throat.

"Shut up," I whispered, trying to keep my emotions in check. Javier's expression softened, his eyes filling with a deep sadness. "I'm just telling the truth," he said quietly. "You're so afraid of getting hurt that you're willing to push away anyone who tries to get close to you. Including me." The words he used would usually get a rise out of me and I would end up screaming but his calm tone allowed me to think about what I was going to say.

“I care a lot” His head snaps at me. “I don’t show it because that is my nature, I can’t help it” I pushed my back against the headboard and took a deep breath. “Having my family away due to my work was probably one of the reasons I decided on this field. I wanted to be a teacher” A sad chuckle came out as tears started swelling up my eyes. “I guess it was a way to separate myself from everyone knowing they would be better off.” I turn to look at him. When I got the job opening I wanted to let it go. But that was before someone close to me got killed” Javier grabs a hold of me hand, giving it a slight squeeze. “The only survivor was his young son. Using the power I had in the FBI I placed myself in the search. Soon enough I found him and I couldn’t stop”

“Was it?” I nod my head.

“That family member was a politician in Mexico, you know how quickly they can go” Javier nods. “I felt a pain seeing him lose who he loved so I promised myself that it wouldn’t happen to anybody else I loved or anyone for that matter” I took a deep breath, trying to explain. "Javier, I've seen what happens when people get close to people in our line of work. They get hurt. Family, friends... all can be affected by this job, by the danger that follows it. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to someone close to me.” Javier's expression changed, his eyes filling with understanding and regret.

"Oh, mi amor...I had no idea. I'm so sorry." I shook my head, feeling a lump form in my

throat.

"Don't be sorry, Javier. Just understand why I have to push you away." But Javier shook his head, his eyes burning with intensity.

"No, I won't accept that. I care about you, deeply. And I was willing to give up my old life for you, to be with you and only you." My heart skipped a beat at his words.

"What do you mean?" Javier took my hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

"I mean that I was ready to leave the partying, the girls...all of it. I wanted to be with you, to build a life with you. But you pushed me away before I could even try." I felt a pang of regret, realizing what I had done. “We always start with a disagreement and then we sleep together than you leave”

"Javier, I...I didn't know." Javier's eyes filled with sadness.

"I know. And now...now I don't know if I can ever go back to that place again." Javier's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze burning with determination. "But I have to go back to Colombia, Pablo Escobar escaped, and I won't rest until he's brought to justice."I nodded, understanding. "But I don't want to do it without you," he said, his voice softening. "You quit the DEA, but I know you still have a passion for the work. And I need you, mi amor. I need your skills, your expertise...and your love." My heart skipped a beat as he took my hands. "Will you come with me? Will you be my partner, in every sense of the word?" I felt a rush of excitement mixed with fear. Going back to Colombia, facing the dangers and uncertainties...it was a daunting prospect.

"I'll go back to Colombia with you, but not to work with the DEA. I'm done with that life." Javier's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Okay, mi amor. But what do you say about us? What about our relationship?" I took a deep breath, trying to sound calm.

"I want to take things slow. I want to get to know you better, without the danger and adrenaline of our jobs. And...no sex until we've had a proper date." Javier burst out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"A date? You want me to take you on a date?" I nodded, feeling a sense of determination.

"Yes, I do. I want to see if we can connect without the intensity of our past encounters." Javier's grin faltered, and he looked at me with a newfound respect.

"Okay, mi amor. I agree. We'll take things slow, and I'll take you on a proper date. But can I at least try to” he hinted with a grin I rolled my eyes, smiling.

"You can try, but I'm not promising anything." Javier chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Fair enough. But I'm warning you, mi amor...I'm very persuasive." I raised an eyebrow, feeling a thrill of excitement.

"I'm shaking in my boots."Javier turned to me, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh yeah? Don't believe me?" he whispered, his voice low and husky.I shook my head, trying to maintain my resolve.

"No, Javier. I mean it. No sex until we've had a proper date."Javier chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"Let me show you just how persuasive I can be," he said, his breath hot against my ear.I felt my heart racing, my resolve weakening. But I stood firm, trying to resist his charms.

"No, Javier. I'm serious."Javier sighed, his shoulders sagging in mock defeat.

"Okay, mi amor. I'll behave. For now." He turned to face me, his eyes locking onto mine.

"But don't think you're off the hook that easily. I'll plan the perfect date, and then...we'll see." I smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation.

"I'm looking forward to it." We sat there for a moment, the tension between us palpable. Then Javier spoke up, his voice soft.

"You know, mi amor...I really like you. Not just your body, but you. Your strength, your courage...your determination." My heart skipped a beat at his words. No one had ever looked at me like that before. No one had ever made me feel so seen.

"I like you too, Javier," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Javier smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Good," he said. "Because I'm not going anywhere.”As we sat there, the tension between us dissipated, Javier leaned in, his eyes locked onto mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, and my heart skipped a beat in anticipation.His lips brushed against mine, soft and gentle, like a whisper. It was a tender kiss, one that spoke of promise and possibility. I felt my lips respond, opening to his, allowing him to deepen the kiss.But he didn't. Instead, he pulled back, his eyes still locked onto mine. "I promised I'd behave," he whispered, a sly smile spreading across his face.I smiled back, feeling a sense of wonder.

"You're a man of your word," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.Javier nodded, his eyes still sparkling with mischief.

"Always," he said. "Now, let's get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow." I nodded, feeling a sense of excitement. What did tomorrow hold? And what did the future hold for us? Only time would tell.

———

I woke up early enough to sneak out the bedroom to finish packing my things. Once I finished packing, and as I zipped up my last bag, Javier walked up to me, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Hey, what's going on?" he mumbled. I cut to the point,

"I need to make a pit stop before heading to Colombia." Javier's eyes narrowed,

"What's going on? You're being secretive again." He walks closer, narrowing his eyes. I sighed, feeling frustrated, and moved him to sit on the couch beside me.

"Javier, listen. My grandmother is in Mexico. She's been alone for a long time, by her own choice. But now that she's getting older, she needs someone to take care of her." Javier's expression softened, but he still looked concerned.

"What does this have to do with us?" I took a deep breath,

"Not us, me. I want to bring her to the United States, to be with the rest of my family. My job is no longer a risk, and I want to give her a better life." She shouldn’t be alone waiting for me to return after every job. And now that I am no longer doing those kinds of jobs, she will be waiting even longer for me to visit. Javier's eyes widened in understanding, but then his face fell,

"And you didn't think to tell me about this? You could’ve asked me for help"I shook

my head,

"I didn't want to burden you with more secrets, Javier. But I promise, this is the last one."

Javier's face fell, his eyes clouding with hurt.

"You didn't think to ask for my help? I'm here, I'm with you, and you didn't think to include me in this?" I reached out, taking his hand.

"Javier, I knew you'd want to get to Colombia as soon as possible, to keep chasing Pablo. I didn't want to hold you back." He shook his head, his voice low.

"That's not the point. The point is, you didn't trust me enough to ask for my help." I sighed,

trying to explain.

"Transporting my grandmother will only take a couple of days, and then I'll meet you in Colombia. I promise." Javier's expression turned skeptical.

"And what if something happens? What if you need my help?" I squeezed his hand.

"I'll be fine, Javier. I promise. And I'll meet you soon." Javier nodded slowly, his eyes still clouded with hurt, but he seemed to understand.

"Okay, mi amor. But next time, ask for my help. I'm here for you." I smiled, feeling a sense of vulnerability.

"Having someone there for me is new, Javier. I've had to take care of myself my whole life. But as we grow together, I'll learn to let you help me." Javier nodded understandingly, his eyes softening.

"I get it, mi amor. I'm patient." I playfully rolled my eyes.

"Good, because we're not even dating, remember?" Javier's face lit up with a mischievous

grin.

"Oh, really?” I chuckled, trying to maintain the charade.

"Yeah, I'm just using you for your skills, Javier. You're a means to an end." Javier laughed, pulling me into a gentle embrace.

"Sure, mi amor. Keep telling yourself that." As we hugged, I couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and belonging. Maybe, just maybe, I was starting to let him in.

“So does that mean I can talk to other girls?” Javier's question was met with an immediate eye roll from me.

"Ugh, really? You're going to try to push my buttons like that?" I shook my head, laughing.

"No, Javier, that doesn't mean you can talk to other girls. Don't even think about it." Javier chuckled, holding up his hands in mock defense.

"Okay, okay, I get it. No other girls. I'm all yours...even if we're not dating." I playfully hit him on the arm, smiling.

"Shut up, Javier." Javier's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Hey, you never said we couldn't kiss before our first date. So, how about it?" I feigned innocence, batting my eyelashes.

"Whatever are you talking about, Javier?" Javier chuckled, pulling me closer.

"Don't play coy, mi amor. I know you want to." I giggled, trying to maintain the act.

"I do not! You're just trying to trick me into kissing you." Javier's face was inches from mine, his voice low and persuasive.

"Maybe a little. But come on, just one kiss. It's not like we're committing to marriage." I couldn't resist his charming smile, and eventually, I gave in, leaning in for a soft, sweet kiss. Javier's lips curved into a triumphant smile as he wrapped his arms around me, deepening the kiss. As Javier's arms wrapped around my waist, I felt a rush of excitement. He gently pulled me onto his lap, and I settled in, feeling the warmth of his body beneath me. His hands rested on my hips, and I could feel his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my skin. I leaned into him, my head on his shoulder, and felt a sense of comfort and security. Javier's lips brushed against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I'm glad we're doing this," he whispered, his breath sending tingles through my body. I smiled, feeling happy and content.

"Me too," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. We sat there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, enjoying the warmth and closeness. It felt like time had stood still, and all that mattered was this moment, this feeling. As I sat on Javier's lap, he began to rub my back, his hands moving in gentle circles. His touch was soothing, and I felt my muscles relax, letting go of all the tension and stress. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling, and let out a soft sigh. Javier's hands moved up to my shoulders, kneading out the knots and kinks.

"Feel good?" he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. I nodded, my eyes still closed, and murmured,

"Mmm-hmm." Javier continued to rub my back, his touch sending waves of relaxation through my body. I felt myself melting into his lap, feeling safe and protected in his arms. As he rubbed, he leaned in closer, his cheek brushing against mine. I could feel his warmth, his presence. Javier's hands paused on my back, and I could sense a subtle tension in his body. I opened my eyes, looking up at him with a playful smile.

"Trying to behave, Javier?" I teased, my voice barely above a whisper. Javier's eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a flicker of desire before he looked away, clearing his throat.

"Trying to be a gentleman," he said, his voice low and husky. I chuckled, leaning in closer.

"I think you're doing a great job," I whispered, my breath brushing against his ear. Javier's hands tightened on my back, and for a moment, I thought he might give in to the tension between us. But then he took a deep breath and gently lifted me off his lap, setting me beside him.

"I think that's enough for now," he said, his voice firm but playful. I grinned, teasing him.

"Spoilsport." As I sat beside Javier, I glanced down at my watch and my heart skipped a beat. I was running late for my flight! I had completely lost track of time, caught up in the moment with Javier."Oh no, I'm late!" I exclaimed, jumping up from the couch. "My flight is supposed to leave in 20 minutes!" Javier's eyes widened in surprise.

"Already? I didn't realize it was so late." I grabbed my bag and started to rush out the door, but Javier caught my arm.

"Wait, mi amor. Let me drive you to the airport." I hesitated for a moment, but then nodded.

"Okay, thank you. I don't have time to argue." Javier smiled and grabbed his keys.

"Let's go. We'll make it." We sped to the airport, Javier's skilled driving getting us there just in the nick of time. As we pulled up to the terminal, I could see the flight attendants preparing to close the doors.

"Thank you, Javier!" I exclaimed, grabbing my bag and jumping out of the car. Javier followed me, his eyes locked on mine.

"Anytime, mi amor. Be safe, okay?" We reached the gate just as they were about to close it. I turned to Javier, my heart racing with excitement and a hint of sadness at leaving him behind. Javier took my face in his hands, his eyes burning with intensity. "I'll miss you," he whispered, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, sweet kiss. I melted into the kiss, feeling a rush of emotions.

"I'll miss you too," I replied, my voice barely audible. With one last look, I turned and

rushed through the gate, making it onto the plane just as the doors closed behind me. I found my seat, buckled in, and gazed out the window, watching as Javier stood there, his eyes fixed on me until the plane took off.

Chapter 15