#decided I’d draw the two of em together

[aphroditeslover11]

Christmas Morning Distractions

Tommy Shelby x Reader

This took me longer to get to you than it was meant to, sorry it is so short. It was fun to write though!

No warnings, just fluff!

The Shelby family was a member bigger than it was last year. You and Tommy now had two beautiful children between you, Charlie who was his son from a previous marriage (but had accepted you as his own mother) and now Rosie, your daughter who would be turning one in February. The Christmas season had been full of excitement, Charlie was at the age now where he could understand the concept of Father Christmas and you had managed to bully your husband into playing into all of the traditions surrounding it. No matter how much Tommy complained, there was no way that he didn’t enjoying taking the bite out of the reindeer’s carrot and the mince pies that were left out. It was a bit suspicious though in your opinion that Father Christmas had also been left out at glass whiskey.

The whole family would be coming over later, eating dinner and opening presents together. The children, mainly Charlie, were getting restless that they were having to wait to open all of their presents. Sat in the drawing room, you could see the lines of Tommy’s forehead drawing together in impatience. He was a good father, but not a tolerant one.

“Charlie, we’ve had this conversation. We have to wait for your cousins to get here before you can open anything…” The boy was about to interrupt when you piped in.

“Surely there must be something that you want to do before then? Something else a little festive?”

“Here’s an idea for you Charlie, why don’t we go and see the horses, eh? You like the stables, it’s snowed a bit overnight and the horses could do with a visit, we could take them something for Christmas as well if you like.” The little boy’s face lit up, he was clearly enthused by the idea.

Charlie was sent to the kitchen to find some carrots from Francis whilst you worried about wrapping up the baby. Tommy emerged at the same time as his son, proffering coats to all of you. He had a complex about you getting cold, he seemed to have decided you were particularly fragile ever since the birth. He took Rosie from you, carrying her in one and arm holding your hand with the other as headed out to the stables.

It didn’t matter how many times Charlie saw the horses, he was always just as excited.

“Go on then lad, go and give them the carrots you got from Frances and make sure you wish them a Merry Christmas - horses can sense that it’s a time to celebrate just as much as you can.” The child went bobbing into the stables, going to find his favourite horse, a bay mare that Tommy had flatteringly named after you - it had a particularly skittish temperament. He reached up to it with the carrot, which it gratefully accepted, his little smile even brighter than the pristine white snow which covered the ground. Tommy drew you to him as you was watched, he had arranged Rosie so that she was tucked inside his overcoat, making sure she wasn’t caught in the wind.

“This is a lovely way to spend a morning Tom, a really good idea baby.”

“Well, I do have ‘em occasionally love,” he chuckled.

“You know, I’d like to make this a tradition, do it every year,” you suggested.

“In that case love, that is what we’ll do.”

[iinryer]

What's one facet of drawing that you used to not be as good at/confident with, and how did you get better at it? How did you get into drawing 9-1-1 - was there a particular character that you *had* to draw? Top three rarepairs/crack ships for 9-1-1? 😁

— oh my god HANDS. ive told this story before in the gotcha discord, but when i was a high schooler and trying to do more art i absolutely hated drawing hands. i hated them so bad, i would hide them or crop drawings so i wouldn’t have to draw them at all, and i kind of just got really frustrated with myself for this one little thing limiting what i could draw!! so for like my entire senior year, i would base every single project i did for my drawing class around hands. i drew SO many hands that year, i did studies and stuff for class and even on my own time until i fucking GOT ‘EM. and even now any time i run into my drawing teacher in my hometown she asks if im still drawing hands 😭😭

— man believe it or not i actually didn’t feel super compelled to draw anything for 911 for a WHILE when i was first getting into it!! I wrote a ton (that I never finished or posted), which was nuts for me because I’d only ever written fic to post like once before in my life?? but I got really into my marjan fic and then wrote the taylor/lena exes with benefits and then I kind of went wild after that gjgjdhf the most I had drawn at that point was like one or two things from fics I had written, and a tiny hen doodle. actually now that im looking at it like this it was all women right away 🤣 the lesbianism compels me. hfgkfhdh but the thing that actually opened the floodgates was drawing juicebox chimney. from there i lost all sense of chill <33

— i love to arbitrarily decide tertiary women are together. i made a post about it years ago ill try to find it and link it here, but like. nancymarjan. my fucking BELOVED. lena/lucy. phenomenal. no notes. past shannon/grace. niche as fuck. crossover. incredible.

[angelus-scripturae]

Hold still || Dabi x reader

Hey y’all. So i’m not dead lmfao. just stressed a bit atm rough time y’know. Here’s something i thought of in the shower at 2 am :).

Summary: You replace Dabis staples.

Warnings: Nothing really. Swearing and slightly suggestive, a bit of blood detail, implied established relationship, inaccurate depiction of medical practice (you use pliers to remove and replace staples).

Implied female reader

You had been a part of the league for as long as it was a thing. You hated how the idea of a “Hero” was corrupted and warped over time so you decided to help end that. Which lead you to meeting Dabi.

The man caught your eye the second he walked in the room. The deep purple scars present on his body was the main factor drawing you to him. He was mysterious, secluded, closed off. That just intrigued you more. You’d spend hours sitting by his side rambling without him saying a word. You did that for months until one time you simply shut up in the middle of your sentence because he wasn’t even looking at you.

He was staring at the blurry, soundless TV in front of the couch, a cigarette hanging out his mouth and the faint wisps of smoke escaped from his mouth when he breathed. You sat back into the tattered sofa and laid your head on your fist.

“Why’d you shut up?”

His words caught you by surprise. They were some of the first words he had spoken to you. The only other time he had spoken was when you asked what drink he wanted when you went out “shopping”.

“Why’d you stop?” He repeated.

You pondered on what to say for a moment. You decided to just continue your rambling right where you left off.

Dabi and you got closer in the months that followed. Spending almost every moment together. I mean there’s nothing else to do other than wait around for Shigaraki’s orders nowadays. You even opted to share a room with each other when you inevitably had to move to a smaller, more isolated area.

Thus lead you to today.

“Can you change my staples?”

“What?” You replied thinking you had heard wrong.

“My staples. Can you change ‘em?” he repeated, louder this time as if you were going deaf.

It was roughly two in the morning. Toga and Twice were up on the roof looking out for hero’s and Shigaraki was somewhere with the doctor looking over Nomu designs. You were going to be alone for a while.

“Why?” You said after a few seconds.

“Cuz, they need changin’.” He said stating the obvious for you.

“Why me though. Can’t you do it?” You wondered aloud, “I mean haven’t you been doing it your whole life?”

“Well, yeah.” He sat up in the bed and faced you, “but I never quite get it right and it’s fuckin’ difficult cuz i can never see what I’m doin’.”

“I mean sure, but I doubt I’d get it right.”

“Thanks princess.”

Dabi then got up from the bed and headed towards the practically decaying chest of drawers. He rustled around in a drawer for a few minutes before turning to you with a box of basic stationary staples in his hand. He threw them to you and you caught them before examining the box.

“Are these supposed to go in your body?” you asked with concern.

“Probably not.” he walked towards you with a smirk picking at the staples beneath his eyes, “but it’s the best we got right now ain’t it?”

“I guess.” You chuckled as he sat down beside you. “We really need to get some hospital staples.”

You stood up and stood between his legs as he tilted his head up to look at you.

“So how do I do this?” You asked as he handed you some pliers in a silent answer, “You want me to use these to get staples out of your face?”

“You scared you’ll hurt me?”

“Well yes.” You stated looking straight into his azure eyes, “These are pliers and stationary staples. Both should never be used to do this.”

“Awe.” He pouted with a half-smirk, “Don’t worry sugar, I can take it.”

You placed the box gently on the bed before holding the pliers properly in your hands. You hooked the end of the pliers under the staple before gently easing it out of his skin. Small drops of blood dripped down his chin which you quickly wiped with your sleeve. You then placed the staple on a tissue and took a new staple out of the box before easing that back into the holes and wiping away the blood that surfaced.

“Did that hurt?” You asked holding brushing the staple with your finger. His hands came up to rest on your waist, the cold metal of his rings sending goosebumps up your sides as his thumbs made small circles on the skin.

“You see me cryin’?” He answered and you shook your head, “Just continue.”

So you did. You repeated the tedious action of removing and replacing the staples and laying them onto the tissue on the nightstand.

He kept moving around to get comfortable this almost making you fuck up multiple times.

“Hold still.” You warned and he just rolled his eyes.

One sudden movement made you take a staple out much more aggressively than planned.

“Ah fuck!”

“I told you to hold stil! That is not my fault. Maybe if you didn’t move so much this wouldn’t happen.” You scolded as you placed your hand under his chin to keep his face still and wiped away the blood dripping from his chin.

You continued again without an issue until you got to the last few on his neck.

Your hand on his chin tilting his head up and away from you, his hands still on your waist caressing the soft skin showing. You began to pull on the staple to remove it when his movements ceased. His hands tightened and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Nah you’re alright darlin’. Just be a bit careful with that one.”

You nodded and continued. Taking extra care with the last few staples as to avoid hurting him any more. Once you finished, His hands dropped from your waist as you went into the kitchen to despose of the used tissues and wash your hands and the pliers the best you could.

You were washing a bit of dried blood off your hand when a pair of arms snaked their way around your waist and a chin rested in the crook of your neck. You leaned your head onto Dabi’s as you felt his long exhale on your coller bone.

“I feel a lot better doll.” He spun you around after you had finished washing your hands and pressed you against the counter. Your hands found their way up to the back of his neck and into his hair. “You did so good.”

“I should do it for you all the time then?” You smiled as his lips ghosted over yours and the soft smell of tobacco and toothpaste lingered in your nose.

“Fuck yeah. You look fuckin hot while doin’ it too.” He whispered before pressing a soft, passionate kiss to your lips.

Hi! Hope you enjoyed this very much self-indulgent fic! Just thought i’d give y’all something before i went back to writers block lmao.

Masterpost BNHA Masterlist

[mt-musings]

Bluebell

Chapter 18

After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Spencer Reid x OC

Warnings: Canon typical violence, kidnapping, stalking, drug use, blood, injury, death, PTSD, eventual smut, more tags to be added

Series Masterlist

Read on AO3

18. Steady as She Goes

Spencer’s eyes kept flicking to the empty seat on the jet where Cassie usually sat. Hotch had asked her to stay behind to coordinate the excavation of Jane’s property with Lopez from ERT, something that he’d been surprised that she’d so readily agreed to after her anxiety attack in the barn. 

Though she had said it was the blood that had bothered her. She’d always been fine with bones. 

The look of fear in her eyes as she watched Gideon drive away still haunted him. It had all worked out for the best, with Gideon and the children safe, and she hadn’t mentioned it since, or the fact that he’d grabbed her hand. 

He still didn’t know exactly why he’d done it—he’d just acted without thinking, something he was summarily unaccustomed to doing.

She’d knocked on his door an hour after they’d gotten back to the motel, holding up a worn pack of cards with a sheepish smile. 

“I don’t know if you were planning on turning in but I just thought I’d see if you wanted to play a couple hands.” 

 She’d already been in her pajamas—a pair of flannel bottoms and an oversized Harvard sweatshirt that reached almost to her knees. They played a few rounds of poker sitting cross-legged on his bed before he noticed that she’d tampered with the deck. 

“I shuffled two decks together at random and then split ‘em so you can’t count cards,” she’d said, fighting a smile. She gave up, giving him a self-satisfied grin that wrinkled her nose.

“That’s cheating.”

“It’s cutting the Gregorian knot. You didn’t specify we had to play with a standard deck. Now at least it’s even.”

They’d stayed up well into the early hours of the morning, card games devolving into Cassie trying to teach him to throw cards (which explained the worn edges of her deck). He hadn’t been able to get the hang of it, even though he’d calculated the ideal angle of release. 

“How’d you even decide to learn this?” He’d asked, flinging his half of the deck down on the bed while she continued knocking down the little paper targets they’d made from the motel memo pad.

“I had a foster brother who could throw them so hard he could draw blood. So I made him teach me.”

“How old were you?”

“Maybe eleven?”

He’d yawned then without meaning to and she’d leapt up, sweeping the cards into a pile and excusing herself so he could get some sleep. He wished she’d stayed, wished she’d kept talking about her delinquent foster brother. It was the first time she’d talked about her past without the sadness creeping in behind her eyes, without brushing it off and redirecting the conversation. 

Derek drew him out of his thoughts, plopping down next to him on the couch. 

“You keep staring at her seat.”

“It’s right across from me.”

“I think the Boy Genius has a little crush.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, pulling a book from his bag. “Not likely. We’re just friends.”

“Friends who hold hands?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. Spencer felt his whole face turn bright red and glanced around the cabin to make sure no one else was paying attention. Luckily for him most of the team seemed to be asleep or listening to headphones. 

“That’s not—she was scared about Gideon going off with Frank. I was just trying to comfort her.”

“See, all that can be true and you could have a crush on Lil’ Miss Morticia.”

“That is not—We’re just friends and I’m not going to do anything to screw that up. She had a rough day, I was just trying to be nice.”

Derek settled back in his seat, still grinning at him. “I think you should go for it, man. It’d be good for both of you. I could give you some pointers—“

“I’m fine. I’m happy with the friendship we have.”

Derek’s teasing grin fell, leaving him with a sincere look instead. “I’m not teasing you, at least not about the fact that I think you two would be good for one another.”

Spencer dropped his gaze to his lap, wishing that he wasn’t so transparent, or he wasn’t surrounded by profilers. He was just glad no one else was paying attention to his mortification. 

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

His voice was so quiet he wasn’t even sure if Derek was able to hear him. 

---

Cassie crossed to her nightstand to pick up her ringing cell, wrapping her hair in a towel as she went. She glanced at the caller ID before flipping it open with a smile.

“Hey Spencer."

“How much longer are you going to be stuck out in Nevada?”

“Another week maybe? Hotch wants me to make sure everything is catalogued just in case there’s some clue to where Frank and Jane might be heading.”

“A week? Well, that answers my next question.”

“Which was?”

“If you’d want to go see The Science of Sleep on Friday.”

Cassie sighed. “I still have a quarter of the property left to comb through. Maybe we can raincheck?”

“Did you know that rain checks were originally a voucher given to baseball patrons at a rained out game?”

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe we can see it next week.”

“Cross your fingers we don’t catch a case. How’s everything back in Quantico?”

“Same as ever. We had a minor case out in Maryland but it only took two days.”

“God, what I wouldn’t do about now to get out of this god forsaken desert. I never really thought about how cold it gets at night.”

“Yeah, I never really had to worry about that growing up. The coldest it gets in Vegas is about low 40s.”

“I didn’t know you grew up in Vegas.”

“How’d you think I got so good at cards?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Honestly, I just figured it was like everything else. Why wouldn’t you be utterly infuriating at them?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Take it however you want,” she said, though she couldn’t hide the warmth in her voice. There was silence on the other end for a few moments as Cassie propped her feet up on the windowsill of her hotel room, looking out over the warm ochres of the sands. The desert was beautiful in a barren, alien sort of way, would be all the more so if she hadn’t spent the last week and a half excavating shards of human remains. 

“I—We miss you. It’s too quiet at work without you.”

“Lies,” she said, though she couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips. “I’m the quietest one in the bullpen.”

“Yeah, but you know how to get a rise out of the rest of us. I figured that out after the first week had a supreme lack of whimsical debates. Plus now there’s no one sitting across from me who just blurts out utterly disgusting things at random.”

“Are you still mad about the corpse wax?”

“Of course I’m still mad about the corpse wax! You brought it up while we were eating lunch.”

“I hadn’t thought of it before, it’s usually more of an archeological consideration. And it’s not that gross—“

“I’m going to stop you right there because I know whatever else you’re going to say will be absolutely revolting and I’d like to eat dinner.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Who’s the liar now?” He asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice. She could practically see him pacing in his apartment, his overlong hair tucked behind his ears, probably wearing one of his oversized college sweatshirts he liked to curl up on the couch in after work. 

If he only knew what kind of liar she really was. 

Previous Next

[oof-lasagna]

Two vampire boys

[kyberphilosopher]

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing. 

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish. 

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he’s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views. 

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that. 

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in. 

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss. 

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid. 

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you. 

There it is. 

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm. 

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence. 

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here. 

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had. 

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection. 

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you. 

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming. 

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite. 

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing. 

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.” 

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway. 

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames. 

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute. 

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using. 

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him. 

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this. 

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light. 

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often. 

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier. 

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way. 

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge. 

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket. 

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin. 

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still. 

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds. 

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist. 

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him. 

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder. 

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat. 

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren. 

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips. 

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise. 

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have. 

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be. 

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips. 

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time. 

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story. 

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.  

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick. 

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said “you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure. 

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him. 

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric. 

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense. 

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him. 

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum. 

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly. 

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over. 

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you. 

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience. 

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back. 

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years. 

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this. 

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs. 

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably. 

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly. 

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him. 

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally. 

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes. 

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him. 

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

[burning-the-write-oil]

Guardian

Summary: Compilation of a few different scenes of Sandor and reader.

Characters: Sandor Clegane/F!Reader

Words: 1.9k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: swearing/explicit language, indications of intended non-con/r*pe, explicit sexual references, penetrative sex, oral (f), alluded age gap (reader is in 20s), how fucking large Sandor Clegane is

A/N: So I’ve written yet another piece that wasn’t on my list of things I needed to write, but I have an issue with new characters that I thirst over and having an overwhelming urge to write them, so here’s the result! It’s kind of all over the place, but it was an idea I had that only compiled of a few scenes so I just connected them. I hope you enjoy if you do read! Thank you for your support and please like, reblog, and comment if you desire!

Masterlist

           ��C’mon poppet, we don’t bite...much.”

Try as you did, there was no possible way to press yourself any closer against the wall in an attempt to distance yourself from the men. You wished you could melt into the wall, become one and get away. Escape. But there was no escape. Three guards of Kings Landing had you cornered, deciding they were going to have their way with a handmaiden they’d found wandering the halls of the castle alone. A bad decision on your part, it seemed. However, you’d made this trek to the gardens before, spending any time to yourself there, should the weather be suitable.

           “Don’t you fools have enough fun at the brothels? Just let me be on my way,” You pleaded, your heart rate increasing at the sneers and laughs they gave.

           “No charge for you, love. Here for the taking. Can’t give that opportunity up, now can we?” One of the guard’s sickly sweet tones made you grimace, trying to push their grimy hands away from your body as they began to reach to pull at your dress.

A sharp strike to your face at your refusal and attempt to escape caused you to whimper as one man quickly turned you and pressed your face to the wall behind you. Tears pricked in your eyes as you tried to call out for help, only to be met with another strike and a harsh tug to your hair. You tried to tune out the murmurs of “how fun this one will be” and “feisty one, she is” as they decided who would have the first go at you.

Tears slid down your cheeks as one of the men ripped at the fabric of your gown, tearing a strip down the back and side just as the sound of someone drawing their sword met your ears. You froze, immediately noticing the hands of the guard leave you. You hesitated to turn around at the proceeding sound of steel colliding and groans of the men being struck, sliced and falling to the ground, slashed with the stranger’s sword.

Silence filled the air immediately after. You reached for the ripped fabric of your dress, attempting to hold it to your chest to cover yourself in some way before turning around, your red eyes meeting the stranger’s.

Sandor Clegane. The Hound. The king’s bodyguard.

He sheathed his bloodied sword, eyes softening when he met yours, carefully taking a few steps towards you. The guards now in a pool of their own blood. You exhaled shakily, eyes remaining fixed on the metal armor that covered his chest as he stood before you. He carefully brought a hand to your jaw, gently tilting your head up ever so slightly to get a better look at your injuries. His thumb barely brushed the mark and the quickly forming bruise from the man who had struck you and knew there were more than likely more bruises to be found on your body. His touch barely pressed your cheeks as he wiped away the falling tears from your cheeks. Less from the fear in the present and more from the events that had just occurred. What could have happened had Sandor not been there.

           “Let’s get you back to your quarters.” He quietly spoke and you nodded with a sniffle, his hand on the small of your back as he led you down the hall.

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           “Aren’t they going to notice the king’s bodyguard is missing?”

           “Fuck ‘em…” He mumbled against your neck, the scruff around his mouth scratching against your skin at the contact.

You smiled, shaking your head slightly at the retort. The rate at which you’d gone from barely touching the man before you to now having his hands on you almost constantly when you two were together was very quick. Your touch, kisses, and affection were now welcomed to Sandor.

           “You’re going to get us both in trouble.” You smirked, starting to run your fingers through the greasy strands of his hair.

He pulled away from your neck with a sigh, shifting you to now straddle his lap from your original position of sitting to the side. He raised a brow, looking up at you.

           “Are you really that concerned about those cunts right now?”

You shook your head with a small grin, tilting your head to press your forehead to his, brushing the tip of his nose with yours.

           “That’s what I thought.” He growled, gently guiding your head with a hand grasping your chin to place more kisses now along your jawline.

You paused for a few moments, appreciating the attention he gave you before speaking again, much to his displeasure.

           “I missed you.”

He pulled away to look up at you, this time not in slight annoyance but to better listen as you spoke.

           “Not easy protecting the little shit and handling his insistent demands. Finding time to come to see you without being summoned isn’t as easy..” He simply replied, eyes searching your face. 

You nodded understandably, brushing the back of your hand along his cheek. You knew he wanted to see you, but you both had to keep up the image that nothing was going on between you two.

           “Guess we should make the most of our time then.”

           “Aye, that’s what I’ve been trying to do since I got here.” He mumbled in fake annoyance and you could immediately sense the playfulness in his tone.

Rolling your eyes, you immediately leaned down to press your lips to his, hands resting on the back of his neck. You loved these moments.

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

           “Gods, don’t stop, please!” You whined, doing your best to keep your voice low as your eyes fluttered open to attempt to look down at the man between your thighs, eagerly licking at your pussy as you were laid across the wooden table in your quarters.

Sandor harshly sucked your clit between his lips before pulling back ever so slightly to speak,

           “You keep whimpering like that and I won’t be able to finish. Don’t like people interrupting my meal…” He grumbled, using his thumbs to separate your lower lips and lick a long stripe along the length of your labia.

You bit your lip to muffle the moan that wanted to escape your lips as you were steadily brought to the edge for the second time, your sensitive clit aching at the contact and the wet squelching sounds of his lips and tongue giving attention to your swollen center.

           “Come up h-here so I can give y-you the attention you deserve.” You managed to get out, your body jolting slightly as he removed his mouth from you moments later.

He chuckled lowly, slowly rising from his knees to stand before you, lips shiny with your arousal.

          “You mean so I can fuck you?”

           “Works out for both of us, now doesn’t it?” You raise a brow with a teasing smirk, hands reaching up to pull the top of your dress down even further, baring more of your breasts to him.

He groans, leaning down to drag his teeth across one of your nipples before unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down to free his hardened length that was now leaking at the tip.

           “You could always have your betrothed do the job for you.” His tone bitter at the reference to the man your father had arranged for you to marry.

That couldn’t be further from what you wanted as he pulled you off of the table, flipping you around to now face the table before shoving you to bend over it.

           “If I wanted a boy to fuck me, I’d be over there right now.” You told him, your body shivering in excitement as he used his knee to spread your thighs further apart.

          “Oh, that’s right. You want a man to fuck you proper… Plenty of other men in King’s Landing, girl.” He slowly dragged the tip of his cock along the length of your slit, coating him in your arousal before pausing at your entrance.

          “Fuck, Sandor! I want you, okay? I want you to fuck me, please!” You practically begged, your hands trying to reach for an edge on the table as you tried to push your ass back towards his hips.

           He chuckled at your pleading, knowing very well that he was who you wanted. “That’s right, girl.”

He thrust into you roughly, his large hands immediately grabbing onto your hips and pulling them back to meet his thrusts. You pressed your mouth to your arm in front of you, trying to muffle the moans that fell from your lips as your body jolted forward with every quick thrust.

           “Such a sweet girl, but like it so rough, doesn’t she? Imagine what your father would think, knowing you let The Hound ruin you.” He growled as he brought a hand forward to gather your hair and pull you up towards him.

You could only whimper in response, mumbling for him to fuck you harder before your lips pressed together in hopes your cries of pleasure wouldn’t be heard past the doors of your quarters.

           “You going to come for me, sweet one?” He grunted as his thrusts slowed ever so slightly, still continuing to plow into you.

           “Yes, please let me come!” You whined, your hands searching for anything to grab on the surface below you.

Sandor’s grunts and growls grew louder as he reached his peak as well, the rhythm of his thrusts beginning to falter.

            “Come on then. Come for me.” He groaned as your walls clenched around him and your orgasm hit you moments later, your head falling to the surface as your body shook, feeling him reach his release not long after you. 

Both your pants and heavy breathing were the only thing that could be heard now and you weren’t sure you’d be able to stand without your thighs shaking. He pulled out of you slowly as he caught his breath and you could feel his release slowly begin to leak out of you. A few soft pats to your ass and he helped you up and over to your bed, laying you on your back. You began to cover yourself with your sheet as you watched him begin to dress.

You wished he could stay but you both knew he couldn’t. Someday, you hoped he could.

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           “Father, please! I love him!” You sobbed, following after him as he departed from the gardens, tears steadily falling from your cheeks and your breath ragged with fear.

           “No, you are betrothed! I will not have you seeing that man anymore. I am astounded at your behavior.” He answered, pausing at the edge of the garden, expression stern.

           “I won’t see him anymore, I promise. Just don’t make me leave, please!” You struggled to get out, eyes pleading as he shook his head. 

           “You leave at sundown and that is final. I will not hear any more of this. You’re never to see that man again.”

Your father strode off, leaving you at the edge of the garden astounded. Your eyes shut tightly as your body shook with quiet sobs. Shakily inhaling, you angrily wiped the tears from your eyes and when you looked up you saw Sandor standing near the side of the castle, a small distance away. You knew he’d heard the entirety of the conversation, you could see the rage in his eyes at your father’s words.

Tears began to fill your eyes once again, his saddened expression one due to your own reaction to the situation. You paused for a moment, watching him, your eyes locked. You knew he knew, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

It took everything in you to turn away and make your out of the garden, away from the man you loved.

[twilights-posts]

Tutoring (Smut)

I've found this on my laptop and wanted to share this with y'all. Please remember, it was originally written in German and translated. Contact me if something doesn't make sense. Thanks!

Summary: You have a history test coming up and Jared decided to help you study. Tough, the only thing on your mind has nothing to do with history.

Tags: 18+, smut, fingering, fem!reader, Jared

We were sitting in my kitchen trying to focus on my upcoming history test. Jared had told me in school that he would help me because history is the most boring thing ever for me. Being in the kitchen together now, though, with his hand on my thigh and his breath on my skin, history was much more exciting.

"The first half of the 19th century saw important social and economic changes that fostered the later industrial boom. One of the most important factors in this was the railroad ..." he told me, and you could see the passion written all over his face. But I switched off at some point and pictured in my mind how his big hand wandered up my thigh, under my skirt and then-

"Are you listening to me?" asked Jared a little louder. With big innocent eyes, I looked at him nodding.

"Of course, industrialization came about because of the railroad," I announced confidently.

"And who invented the railroad?"

"You didn't say."

With furrowed brows I looked at the worksheet, maybe that would give me answers, but all I got were questions.

"Yes, I did," he laughed. I looked up at him smiling, even sitting down he was taller than me. My eyes swept over his face and lingered on his full lips. Images of his lips kissing my neck, my breasts, my nipples and moving lower and lower, um....

"You're so absent today, what's going on?" he snapped me out of my fantasies again. Smiling, I shook my head, not letting on that he had a lot less clothes on in my head.

"Nothing, it's all good. It's just history," I said lightheartedly, contorting my face to let him know how averse I was to the subject. He nodded slowly, not seeming to believe me.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? I'd love to help you or even just listen. Just tell me what you need," Jared expressed lovingly, stroking my thigh with his hand. My skirt pushed up slightly as a result. He's so sweet, if only he knew that the only thing I needed right now was his tongue on my clit.

I smiled broadly at the thought, leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"I'm fine, I just need a break," I whispered to him. Light-footed, I jumped off the stool and walked over to the fridge. That's when I got the idea to heaten him up a bit so we could get away from studying.

I looked over my shoulder at him and asked if he wanted a drink. There was no need to grab the soda from the last compartment, but it gave him a chance to peek under my skirt. Since I was wearing shorts underneath anyway, he wouldn't see too much, but he wouldn't need to for now.

When I turned back to him, he looked up shamefully. I pretended not to notice and held the can out to him.

"Do you need a glass?"

"No, I'm good."

I tried to jump casually on the counter, but I had overestimated my weak arms and was struggling badly. Jared chuckled as he watched me do it.

"Need a hand?" he finally offered.

"Please."

He stood up, took the few steps to me, and grasped my waist. With ease, he lifted me up and set me down. Jared continued to stand in front of me, looking at me with amusement. I recognized the affection in his eyes, could only smile because of it.

"Maybe you should work out more," he suggested after a few seconds.

"If you help me with that," I said absently. Right now my hormones were going crazy and I just wanted to kiss him. My legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer to me. If only there were less clothes ...

Jared swallowed nervously. My hands stroked through his hair, finding their place on his neck. I moved closer to his face, anticipation flooding me. His dark eyes looked at me expectantly. A mischievous smile was on his face.

Just before our lips touched, he pulled back slightly.

"You know I've been dreaming about this."

I smirked at this confession. I hadn't been expecting that.

"Oh yeah, about what exactly?", I probed.

Jared leaned forward, past my face, and ran his nose up the curve of my neck.

"I dreamed about your legs wrapped around my waist."

"What else were you dreaming about?"

"how I' m pushing up that stupid skirt of

yours," he murmured against my ear, pressing his lips behind it.

I exhaled shakily, the throbbing inside me making itself known, and I could feel myself getting wet at the idea.

"It's my favorite skirt," I still tried to answer casually. He chuckled lightly.

"You can leave it on while we do it."

My eyes closed and I imagined how he would take me while I had only the skirt on. At this point I didn't need any foreplay, but he was about to suck on the delicate spot on my neck, so I didn't stop him.

His hands went under my skirt and stroked through the shorts over my most sensitive spot. He took his time, doing everything gently and carefully, but I had no patience for it and certainly no time. My parents would be home in thirty-four minutes.

I pulled his face up and pressed my lips to his. Greedily our lips moved together, soon I felt his tongue and sighed pleasantly. Jared slowed down the kiss, but not the intensity. It was as if we hadn't seen each other in days. He was visibly enjoying the moment. The hand that wasn't fridging me through my pants cupped my breast. His thumb circled around my nipple. Sometimes he pinched them through the shirt, then stroked them apologetically.

Jared never struck me as the ladies' man, but he obviously had experience.

As the pressure on my shorts increased, I moaned softly. After I released his lips, he stepped back a bit. Both hands went into the waistband of my shorts and pulled it down along with the briefs. I lifted my hips to help him. As promised, he left my skirt on.

His fingers stroked up my calves, snaked up the inside of my thighs, and paused at the hollow between my leg and hip.

I pulled back briefly to look him in the eye.

"Would you wash your hands first?" apologetically, I stroked his shoulders. I was afraid of ruining the mood or having to explain myself. He just nodded and went to the sink. Relieved, I leaned back on my arms. When Jared turned back to me, I opened my legs a little wider. He stopped and eyed me.

Challenging 'em, I spread them open wider, his view blocked by the skirt, but not diminishing the effect. I noticed the bulge in his pants and felt bad for not giving him any attention so far.

"Come here.", I said softly and extended a hand to him. Without further hesitation, he was back within my reach. I pressed my lips to his neck now and ran my hand down to his penis. Stroking over the shorts, I lightly nibbled at his skin. In turn, he stroked the inside of my thighs. He was damn close to my private parts. Unlike him, I wasn't as patient and was about to pull his pants off.

Surprised, I looked up at him as he put his hands on mine to stop me.

"Not yet:" was all he said. His voice was unfamiliar smoky, but led to more tingling sensations in my bottom.

Jared furrowed two fingers over my labia and distracted me with a gentle kiss. Agonizingly slowly, he ran his fingers once around and past my pleasure spot.

"God, you're so wet," he gasped. I resisted the urge to grimace.

"I don't like that kind of dirty talking," I explained to him carefully.

"Oh, okay. What kind then?" He looked at me intently, but the movements of his fingers distracted me somewhat. It seemed like he was looking for something-

"How about we focus on one thing first."

I kissed him again, because we were good at that. Along the way, my hand wrapped around his and guided him firmly to the point where I needed him. Almost immediately, his finger began to gently draw circles.

"Right there.", I sighed against his mouth and dropped my head onto his shoulders. Jared's other hand continued up and down my thigh. I now had my arms around his neck, so he could work undisturbed.

He was consistent and patient. I had already noticed this in the last few weeks of our relationship, but now I really realized the importance of these qualities. As if on their own, my legs spread out, so he could have better access. I exhaled shakily, my body yearning for more. Without further thought, my hand settled over my chest and took attention to it.

"You like that?",

I heard Jared ask hesitantly. I just nodded, too caught up in the pleasure to answer. Slowly, Jared increased the pace and his grip on my leg tightened. My moans were muffled by his shoulders. I felt like my body was burning up, and I longed to cool down. The grip around my chest became rougher, and I left my other hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to me.

"Faster.", I mumbled before eagerly capturing his lips. This kiss was not patient and gentle, but dirty and greedy. At one point, I felt his teeth. Jared was no longer drawing circles, but making frantic and choppy movements. I quickly corrected him and groaned loudly as he found the right pace.

"Fuck, yes," I gasped. My hips had taken control and were meeting his movements. I took turns massaging my breasts, getting closer and closer to my climax. My legs tightened, my hand dug into his hair, and I was no longer able to concentrate on kissing him. Instead, he leaned his forehead against mine.

"Open your eyes, look at me," I heard his voice through the rapidly rushing blood.

It wasn't easy for me, but I looked up at him with half-open eyes.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He slowly increased his speed, causing my eyelids to fall shut. Groaning, I submitted to the feeling.

"No, open your eyes and look at me while you come," Jared murmured. I bit my lips as I looked into his eyes. He nodded and smiled proudly.

"Yeah, just like that. Now you can come."

As if my body had just been waiting for it, my muscles contracted internally, and I let out a long-drawn-out moan. My hand had tightened around my breast; it was painful, but a good kind of pain. Jared's gaze held me captive the whole time he was doing this.

After I came down from my climax, I dropped my head to his shoulder and leaned against him.

"We should go upstairs."

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hi I’m here to review the Clementine comic. it’s not good.

Does this even need an introduction? You know why I’ve gathered you all here today. You know the comic exists, and you probably know that it’s not great and we’re all upset about it. 

Myself included. I am not okay. At all. 

Skybound could’ve literally spit in my face and I’d come out feeling better than I did reading this comic, because this comic is an insult to the original Telltale games and Clementine as a character. 

This comic is a fancy fanfic. Glorified fanfiction. It’s not canon, and Skybound and Tillie can pretend that it is, but it’s not. Bold of them to assume we’d just accept this from people who didn’t work on the original games and never wrote for Clementine before, and based on this comic alone, any chance of us taking it seriously is gone. 

I’m gonna go through every single page, every panel, of this comic and give you my review. So I guess if you’re worried about spoilers [though at this point why would you?] then be warned, spoilers for the entire comic ahead. 

I also wanna add that I have nothing against Tillie Walden. I know a lot of dingdongs are harassing her on insta over this comic and that’s not okay. You telling her how much you hate her isn’t going to change anything. If anything, you keep being assholes to her and she’s just gonna block everything out, even things simply critiquing her work in hopes that it helps her improve. 

You’re allowed to be upset about the comic and share your feelings about it, but don’t take it out on the actual human being like that. Besides, like I’ve said before, if Tillie wasn’t gonna make the comic, Skybound would’ve found someone else to do. This was coming no matter what because Skybound wants that coin. 

That being said, I’m not going to hold back my opinions on this comic. Skybound and Tillie made this comic, they put it out there and asked for money for it, therefore I’m allowed to explain why it’s garbage as well as ponder over the questionable intent and whether or not Tillie actually has played these games. Y’know, it’s like how I have nothing against Kent, but sometimes he says things I disagree with and well, y’know how it goes. 

Alright, this is gonna be long, so let’s go--

The first few shots we get are of the school, two people sleeping, and Clementine’s empty bed. Nothing super note-worthy, we have no idea who is sleeping in the beds, it’s just there to establish that it’s early and everyone’s still asleep. 

The drawing of the school looks fine? Not super accurate, but I can give it a pass since it’s a few years later, I assume. What I can’t give a pass is how you managed to already mess up on the first page of your comic. 

Because..... why are you implying that Clementine’s room is upstairs? First of all, seems kinda dumb to put Clem, who has only one leg and has to walk with crutches, upstairs. Also, if you’ve played TFS and paid any attention to where her room is actually located [the dorms] then you’d know there isn’t any stairs leading to their floor. It’s the side building next to the admin building, you walk through the door, go down the hall, take a left and their dorm is right there sooo..... 

Oh right, it’s probably done this way so that we can have such a suspenseful moment where Clementine is sneaking out while the others are asleep and her foot makes a creeeeeeakk that could wake everyone up, thwarting her plans of abandoning everyone quietly so she doesn’t have to deal with any consequences. 

Because yeah, Clementine is sneaking out with all of her supplies because apparently, she’s been planning an escape from this place for a while. 

And just look at how gosh darn happy she is about it. You can’t see or hear me, but know that I’m laughing. Don’t worry, I will talk about her abandoning everyone later.

But first, I have a gripe with Clementine's design in this comic. It doesn’t look like her. This art of her right here is the most accurate we get throughout all 12 pages, and it’s the best looking, too. 

Moving on, she slams the door shut while this walker changes faces and hair between panels, so that’s cool. I will say, I like the idea of the Ericson crew putting spikes on the door. That’s fun. 

Though Clementine slamming the door shut while trying to sneak out seems counter productive but it fits with the theme this comic has of inconsistency, so it works. 

Next we have Clementine going to what I believe is the fishing shack by the river, and she’s going through some things that she’s stashed away, telling us that she’s been planning this escape for a while. 

Oh good, she has a map. Well at least now she won’t get lost out there in the woods while she makes her escape... also that last panel with her profile.... why does it look so funny? Like this page of the comic doesn’t look too bad, but there is something off putting about her eye there and how she has zero expression. 

And it turns out that rustle was a walker, and Clementine is super inconvenienced by this and gives us our first piece of witty dialogue.

Yeah you dumb walker, can’t you see Clementine is busy running away from home and abandoning all of her loved ones without a single goodbye so she doesn’t have to witness the consequences of her selfish actions?? Gosh, so rude.

Just a heads up, the dialogue in this comic is stilted, emotionless, and bland. The words have no flow, no charm, and never feel like they should be coming out of Clementine’s mouth. Then again, the upcoming graphic novels this is tied to are for young adult/middle graders so I guess we have to dumb everything down so their baby brains can process it. 

.....Why does her face look like that? Also, interesting that she decided to move her ponytail to the other side of her head.... which is a thing that happens throughout this comic, her hair will randomly change sides. 

I believe it’s a metaphor for her changing and inconsistent personality. 

So yeah, Clementine is just making off with the supplies she gathered [I’m sure Ericson doesn’t need ‘em anyway] and she’s just so gosh darn annoyed at all these small inconveniences bothering her.... because it’s just too early for this. 

.....Again, why does her face look like that?

I’m sorry, like I get it, Tillie’s style is supposed to be purposely messy yet minimal but it doesn’t work. When you do a comic in a more messy style, usually it has charm and heart put into it. Effort goes into the messy look, and when things are minimal, that usually means more clean, yeah? So you put them together and just..... that is nothing resembling Clementine’s face. 

Can we just--

Look at canon Clementine’s face. Look at the way her eyebrows are shapes, how wide her eyes are with her eye lashes. The dirt on her skin, the lines-- there is so much personality in her features. It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing a neutral expression or she’s expressing anger or joy or sorrow or whatever. 

Now, is it fair to compare a model of Clem from the games to the Clem in this comic? Well, I assume that if Tillie is doing this comic, she would use references from the game to ensure that Clementine is recognizable, especially now that she’s no longer wearing her signature hat. 

So why does she look like this? Why do I look at these drawings of her face and see nothing but a pair of eyes, a nose, and a mouth? You might as well draw me a simple smiley face. And I get that it’s a comic, and it’s a lot of work to draw the same character over and over again and you gotta cut corners somewhere, but maybe put some effort into the close up shots of her face so that we can actually see it’s her? 

Other fan artists have made comics in their styles that shine bright with Clementine’s personality, so what happened here? 

Anyway, surprise..... it’s not a walker annoying Clementine. 

........Why does AJ look like that??? I’m sorry, I hate to do the same thing I just did but--

Just because you put Clementine’s hat on AJ that doesn’t automatically make it him. I just.... wow. This feels like there wasn’t a single reference involved, like if someone gave Tillie a basic description of AJ and she just did this. 

But appearances aside, what is AJ saying? He says that he knew it, that Clementine’s leaving and I cannot stand this dialogue. It’s unnatural. Again, I know you wanna dumb it down for all of us because I guess we dumb.... but this conversation does not feel natural. 

“I knew it. You’re leaving.” “AJ....” “I’m coming.”

Even if you changed it to, “I’m coming with you.” it would sound more natural. Hell, he doesn’t even question WHY she’s leaving, he just stands there like “I’m coming” like??? I’m sorry, have you ever heard a single word this murder baby has said? I assume you have because I assume you actually played TFS, right? Soooo.... what happened here?

.....whY DO THEIR FACES LOOK LIEK THAT KSAJDLKJAS:LKDJLKASJD:L--

So now we’re getting into it.... into the bullshit. 

Clementine tells AJ to go back to the school, and AJ says that she wasn’t even going to say goodbye..... and then more bad dialogue that sound unnatural when you try to fucking read it. 

First off.... AJ’s reaction to Clementine attempting to leave is barely anything. Again, I hate to keep questioning if you actually played TFS, but AJ would throw a fucking fit if he caught Clementine out here ALONE like this, attempting to leave. 

And then he says “Like last time? You were going to come back?” this sentence makes my brain hurt. I just.... “Like last time, right? You’re coming back?” UGH

Wow, I feel nothing. 

I’m sitting here watching these two imposters with fucked up faces who are supposed to be Clementine and AJ and I feel nothing. 

I’m not even going to comment on the faces anymore. You can see it. You know. 

So yeah... AJ tells her the #1 rule, and reminds her that she promised.

Y’know.... she promised that she would never leave him again? Remember? At the McCarroll ranch? That flashback that was in TFS? The one you would watch if you played the game? 

Why is she looking straight at me when she should be looking at AJ as she says this? Is this Clementine’s way of telling me she’s sorry for what a shitty direction this is taking? I wouldn’t know because her face isn’t doing anything. Just because you draw a couple of tears that doesn’t mean I’m feeling the emotional heartbreak you’re attempting to convey. 

I don’t have enough middle fingers for this.

Well, my hat’s off to you. Ya did it. Ya fucked up everything single part of Clementine’s character in the span of two pages, I’m almost impressed. 

First off, the baby thing is weird. Why is she calling him that? She’s never called him that, which you should know.

Second, she’s not happy and that’s why she’s leaving. Clementine isn’t happy, and AJ can’t make her happy. Ericson can’t make her happy. So she’s going to go out on the road to.... what, be unhappy by herself? 

I’m sorry, but apparently we need a few reminders here of who Clementine is, because this isn’t her. 

This is Clementine. 

Clementine fought for years to find a home, something she hasn’t had since she was an eight-year-old girl before the apocalypse. The motor-inn wasn’t a home, the cabin wasn’t home, the ski-lodge, Howe’s, Wellington, Richmond, Prescott, none of them were home. 

She struggled for years, dealing with trauma after trauma while out on the road. She went from group to group, watching people she cared about die and she was powerless to do anything about it. Whenever she let her guard down and become comfortable, it bit in her in the ass and left her heartbroken.

She was there when AJ was born. She grew close to Rebecca while she was pregnant, she let herself do that even after everything she went through with Christa. Clementine had a bond with AJ even before he was born, and after Rebecca died, she did what she could to keep him safe, despite play choice. 

She cried when she thought AJ died and when she found him in that car again. She swore to protect him, to raise him right and love him. All they had was each other. 

And when she joined the new frontier and AJ got sick, she risked everything to save him and she was devastated when they took him away from her. When she found out he was alive, she is willing to go as far as helping Lingard overdose [INJECTING HIM HERSELF IF SHE HAS TO] to figure out his location. She did shitty things to find him, she killed people at McCarroll Ranch to find him again. 

Clementine raised him and he is her family, do you understand that? She went to hell and back for him, she taught him how to protect himself, and even though she made mistakes she sacrificed everything for him. She promised him that they would have a home of their own one day, she talked about how much she wished for a world where she didn’t have to worry about fighting and killing and AJ could just be a happy kid. 

She fought for Ericson, she watched her friends die or become mutilated by someone from her past. She allowed herself to be vulnerable enough to pursue a romantic relationship with Louis or Violet because she felt safe with them, felt safe at Ericson because it’s their home now. 

And when Clementine was bit, she thought she was going to die but she still fought to make sure AJ would be safe and happy without her and it was heartbreaking. She’s dying and the only thing she cares about is AJ. Not herself, not what’s going to happen to her after she dies or turns... no, she tries to make AJ smile again, she makes sure he remembers the rules, and she tells him that she loves him. 

Then he cuts off her leg, and she survives. AJ saved her fucking life, and she got to wake up at home and live to see her family again. She got to push AJ on a tire swing, she got to eat a hot meal and laugh with her friends, she got to make plans with her lover/best friend for what’s next for Ericson, and she got to talk to AJ and tell him the truth... and she asked him if she did a good job, and he’s honest with her right back. 

Hell, she tells him to keep her hat. Her iconic hat. The one thing she has left of her father, possibly her more cherished item. She lets him keep it. 

The last time we see Clementine, she’s happy. She’s sitting on the steps by herself, staring at her family with such fondness in her eyes and a smile on her face because she finally did it. She finally found a home where she can breathe. She has a bed to sleep in, she has AJ with her, she has a boyfriend/girlfriend who loves her and who she loves back, she has friends she can rely on. 

Clementine smiles, and lets out a small laugh. 

She doesn’t have to run anymore. 

And now you have the balls to tell me that AJ and Ericson don’t make Clementine happy anymore. 

She abandons everything to go back out on the road again, and that’s proof enough for me that you don’t understand a damn thing about Clementine or her journey. 

“ I don't even know the person I'm talking about... It's like all we have in common is the same name.” 

....Anyway.

Wow, Clementine found a car and kept is stashed. How lazy and convenient for this bullshit plot. 

And this is the part where I have to tell this comic to fuck off. 

What, you think if you throw in an incredibly inaccurate flashback next to a current pair of hugging Clem and AJ that I’ll feel anything but anger? That flashback is a slap to the face. It’s snowing, but the only time we’ve seen snow is in S2 when AJ was a literal new born, so why is he that big? Is that supposed to be from ANF because that ALSO doesn’t look like that AJ, and that’s not the outfit Clementine had on... AND there was no snow. This is cheap and meaningless. 

Any fan of the series who has played through the games could tell you this. 

So.... AJ runs into the woods and then we get this garbage.

This comic is awful. It misses the point of everything TFS, and the rest of the series, stood for. There is no heart here. I feel no happiness in reading it, and I don’t detect any passion behind it. It’s a lifeless comic that retcons everything in order to throw AJ away and start fresh with a new adventure for Clementine that makes no sense because the cow isn’t profitable unless it’s milked. 

This isn’t canon, and it won’t ever be canon, and honestly? At this point, I have no faith in the graphic novel trilogy. It will take a lot to do a turn around from this, and I don’t even know if that’s possible. 

Again, to reiterate, I don’t have anything personal against Tillie Walden herself. She’s just doing her job, and from what I’ve seen of her as a person, she seems like a sweetheart. I don’t want anyone giving her shit because I think the comic isn’t good or that you agree with me. All of my anger is directed at the comic itself, her work, not specifically her.... and a little bit at Skybound, because they’re the reason this is even a thing in the first place. 

So yeah.... there ya have it. 

[the-iceni-bitch]

Please do 61 with Ransom.

61) “If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.”

Hmmm, more OTP for all you lovely hoes! You nonnies just keep lobbing em right at me.

This ended up sparking something in me and I ended up writing a full length fic about more escapades with the asshole bunch.

Tagging my babes @chrissquares @stargazingfangirl18 (I’m targeting you a little with this one Siri cuz lacrosse Ransom is def wearing Fila) @subtlebucky @egcdeath

Quick, dirty, outdoor smut!!! No minors!!!

You and Ransom had decided to meet at the park with the other couples in his little asshole group of friends.

It was finally starting to warm up some, and when the boys had brought up getting out the sticks for some lacrosse you had jumped on it. Ransom didn’t have the balls to tell you it was really just a guy thing, you looked so excited about it.

He parked the beemer at the park entrance and grinned when he saw your Volvo already there. He grabbed his sticks and the cooler full of beer from the trunk and headed towards the field where he saw the rest of you gathered.

He groaned as he drew closer and finally got a good look at you as you waved at him. You looked like a preppy dream in a polo shirt and tiny shorts, a headband around your forehead and knee high socks under your cleats.

“Hey baby!” You said giddily as you ran towards him with your stick slung over your shoulders. “Can you believe I still fit in my high school uniform?”

“I think you’re taking this a little too seriously sweetheart.” He grinned, dropping the cooler and catching you when you jumped into his arms and pressed your lips to his with a satisfied hum.

“Says the man who showed up wearing his letterman’s jacket.” You teased as you hopped down and helped him carry the cooler the rest of the way.

“Yeah? Well if you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.” He purred in your ear as you set down the cooler, wrapping his stick around your back and drawing you close.

“Ha! I’m not playing lacrosse in pants, Hugh!” You said with a shake of your head. “But keep that in mind for later. Can you believe none of the other girls brought sticks?”

“Honey, none of them play lacrosse.” He chided as he watched you stretch.

“Well then what’s the point of... oh goddamn it!” You rolled your eyes as you stood up. “This was supposed to be another boy’s outing where I sit with the other girls and get wine drunk wasn’t it? Don’t answer that! Chauvinist assholes...”

He just chuckled as he watched you mutter to yourself angrily, grabbing your extra sticks and storming off towards the other girls, gesturing wildly as you tried to go over the basics with them.

“So, the girls are playing then?” Dylan asked as he came to stand by Ransom, grabbing an IPA from the cooler and taking a gulp.

“Sure seems that way.” Ran answered as he watched you shove a stick at Lexi and make a throwing motion that she tried to emulate feebly.

“Is this gonna be another day of your girlfriend showing us all up, Drysdale?” Chaz asked as he joined the two of them, chuckling as they tried to figure out exactly what you were trying to instruct the girls on now. “Cuz I don’t think my ego can take it.”

“I dunno what to tell you man.” Ran said with a shrug, grabbing himself a beer and drinking deep. “Quit inviting us to this shit if you don’t want her to hand your ass back to you.”

“Alright douchebags, lets play some lacrosse!” You screamed at them, a massive grin splitting your face.

“I can’t decide if having her on my team or playing against her will be worse.” Logan groaned as the four men walked towards the field apprehensively.

“Alright, should we split this up by couples or what?” Dylan asked as Lexi moved to stand next to him.

“Sounds good to me.” You beamed.

“Great, so Y/N, Ran , Chaz and Brit, you guys can play together and me, Jess, Logan, and Lex will be the other team. Girls play defense.”

“Sounds good.” Ran said fast before you had a chance to start an argument, guiding you away from the center of the field quickly.

“But I play attack, babe.” You whined as he walked next to you and stopped in front of the goal.

“Yeah, I think that you playing attack might be a little too much all at once sweetie.” He said with a shrug as he moved to middle position. “Just channel that frustration babe, you’ll do great!”

You just chewed on your lip as you watched Logan and Chaz grapple for the ball. Logan won out, barreling over Chaz and spinning past Ran like a pro. You smirked as you pivoted towards him, bracing yourself as you charged each other.

He shifted his weight to spin around you and you grinned before full body checking him, ripping the stick out of his hand and helicoptering it out of his grip as you tossed him over your shoulder. You scooped the ball up and lobbed it to Ransom as you sprinted up the field. He passed it back to you when Dylan tried to take him down and you snatched it out of the air before diving around a confused looking Lexi and chucking the ball at the net, grinning when it sailed past Jess for a point.

“Goddamn it!” Dylan groaned as you jogged past him back to your position, giving Ransom a celebratory high five that he followed up with a smack on the ass as he grinned at you.

Logan was still trying to stand up as you returned to your defensive position, glaring at you as he ran a hand through his hair.

“How the fuck was that not a foul?!” He seethed at you.

“A foul?!” You shouted with an air of disdain. “Don’t be a pussy Van Doren! You bring that weak shit to my house and I’m serving it right back to you! Right babe?”

“That’s right babe!” Ran shouted back to you as he shrugged apologetically at Logan when he stalked past him.

The rest of the game went about the same, you hardly let anyone past and Logan flinched so bad every time you got near him it was easy for your team to dominate. Dylan finally called a stop after an hour, he and Logan covered in dirt and bruises from the rough play.

“That’s it, we’re done. I need a fucking drink.” He huffed as he dragged himself off the field, Lexi bouncing next to him excitedly. Apparently, one of the things you had been teaching the girls was how to hit, and she had cracked Chaz and Ransom a couple of times. You grinned and congratulated her and the other girls on a game well played as you moved to grab a porter from the cooler.

“Jesus Christ, Drysdale. That woman is a damn menace.” Logan groaned as he grabbed a bag of ice and pressed it against his ribs.

“Yeah, how the fuck do you keep up with her?” Chaz asked, shaking his head as sipped his lager. “She’s barely sweating.”

“I don’t even know man.” He said with a shrug, gasping for air as he chugged his IPA. “She’s a fucking pistol.”

“Not the word I’d use but whatever.” Logan said, annoyed at you two.

“Shut up, L, you’re just pissed she beat the shit out of you.” Dylan said with a grin. “Where you going, Ran?”

“Gotta take a leak!” Ransom lied as he jerked his head towards the trees suggestively after making eye contact with you.

“Scuse me gals, I gotta help Hugh with something.” You said around a grin after chugging the rest of your beer.

“Jesus, you two will do it anywhere, huh?” Brittney said with an eye roll.

You just shrugged at her as you jogged after Ransom towards the small clutch of pines.

Ransom grabbed you around your waist and swung you off your feet when you reached him, making you squeal before he smashed his lips against yours.

“You were amazing.” He purred as he pressed you up against a tree, running his lips up and down your throat and making you whine.

“Yeah, I’m a fucking legend babe. I told you.” You muttered around a grin. “Did you see those hits I landed?”

“Mmhm, sure did.” He mumbled, nipping at the hollow behind your ear that he knew drove you crazy as his hips ground against you.

“You ever eat a legend’s pussy, Hugh?” You teased, starting to shove his head down between your legs.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Y/N!” He whined as you forced him to his knees. “I was kinda hoping we could both get something out of this.”

“Sorry babe, middle gets whatever attack says they get.” You said with a shrug as you slid your shorts off and hooked your leg over his shoulder. “Make me come with that pretty mouth and maybe I’ll let you get your dick wet.”

“Bitch.” He murmured as he started brushing his lips over your inner thigh, no real malice in his tone as he gazed at you through his lashes.

“That’s right Hugh, I’m the fucking bitch. Now lick it.”

He ran his nose over your clothed core and inhaled deeply before shoving your panties aside. You moaned as he dragged his tongue over your slit, lapping up the evidence of your arousal before swirling his tongue through your folds.

His hands moved under your ass and tilted your hips towards his face, giving him even more access to your dripping heat. Your fingers gripped his hair painfully when he flicked his tongue over your asshole in a quick series of kitten licks before moving it in a heavy stripe back up to your clit.

You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming when he slid a finger inside you, curling it in a come hither motion at the same time he pressed his tongue against your clit. He lashed your bundle of nerves lightly as you writhed against him, your head thumping back against the tree as he slipped in a second finger.

His lips wrapped around your clit as he started fucking you with his digits, curling and twisting them inside you so he hit every spot he knew would drive you absolutely crazy. You felt him grin against you as he shook his head to bury himself deeper in your folds, groaning when he felt you clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, Ransom! I’m so close.” You panted breathlessly, grinding your pussy into his face as you neared the edge.

You felt him slide his pinky into your puckered hole, spearing past the tight ring of muscle until you felt the cool metal of his ring against your entrance and you fucking lost it.

Your thighs tried to crush his skull as you came violently, somehow managing to swallow the shriek that tried to rip out of your chest. He moaned as he ran his tongue over your pussy to collect your release as it ran over his fingers while you clenched and fluttered around him.

“How was that, champ?” He said around a wicked grin once you finally released his head, sliding his hands up your body as he stood up.

“Good... it was good.” You panted as he buried his face in your neck.

“Yeah? Good enough for you to help me out, babe?” He asked, grinding his hips into you to show you how hard he was at the same time he wrenched your polo and sports bra up to expose your breasts.

“I think we can work something out.” You murmured as he palmed your breast with one hand while the other splayed over your ass.

“What did you have in mind, sweetheart?” He hummed as his lips moved over your throat softly.

“Oh, I dunno. Something extra special for my favorite middle.” You purred, pushing him away from you a little bit so you could turn around.

“Fuck, really?” He beamed, running his hand over your ass as he pressed you into the tree.

“Really, you did such a good job, baby, you deserve a reward.” You said as you peeked are him over your shoulder. “Now fuck my ass until I come again, Hugh.”

He chuckled darkly into your hair as he slid his shorts down his legs and drew his cock out of his boxer briefs. You moaned as he ran his length through your slick before he pressed his tip against your pretty hole. The groan he let out as he speared into you made your pussy clench around nothing, fluttering as your body tried to draw him as deep as possible until he was fully sheathed in you and his hips were resting against your ass.

“Shit. Oh my god.” He hissed into your shoulder as he stilled his hips for a beat. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Yeah, I know.” You mumbled as the tree bark scratched at your cheek. “Could you move? I’d like to have another orgasm sometime before noon.”

“So fucking bossy.” He groaned before sliding out of you halfway and slamming back into you, making you yelp.

You moaned as he finally started fucking you, his hips moving at a vicious pace as he bounced you against the tree. He wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed lightly as he drew you back against his chest.

“Love when you let me fuck your ass, baby.” He growled in your ear as his hips slapped against your cheeks, making you mewl as slick started leaking down your thighs from your aching pussy. “Love how wet you get and how you strangle my cock. You want my fingers in that tight little pussy?”

“Yeah.” You whined as he teased his fingers over your clit. “Need you in my pussy so bad Ran, I’m gonna come.”

He sucked your earlobe between his teeth and spanked your pussy before shoving three fingers inside you as you came with a shriek, your body arching against him as you spasmed uncontrollably.

“Jesus, you’re squeezing me so good.” He groaned as you came down, sobbing with pleasure and sagging against him. “I’m gonna fill this ass up.”

You felt his cock throbbing inside you at the same time he twisted his fingers and you screamed, your release gushing out of you and soaking his thighs as he filled you with his spend, pressing you against the tree and sinking his teeth into your shoulder as his hips jerked. He groaned into your hair as he shoved his cum deep inside you and pulled his fingers from your swollen cunt.

“Holy fuck.” He mumbled into your hair before sucking his fingers into his mouth and groaning at your taste.

“Yeah.” You murmured as you yanked your bra and shirt back down and pulled your panties back into place before bending over to slide your shorts back on. “You should’ve lettered in that.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: Not just regular assholes, preppy jock assholes!!!

[ragingbookdragon]

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

The 12 Nights of Christmas: Day 9:

*The group first makes a stop at the shrine to pay respects and make wishes to the God of Prosperity.

So that’s supposed to be the God there?

Yep! Holding his lucky mallet.

There’s an explanation here. It says that people pray to him for marriage and for making good connections.

Wow. It sure would be nice to meet some new people this year!

Maybe with luck, those two would be Rantaro and Kiyo. We still haven’t found those two.

True...but to be honest, of everyone, they can definitely wait. I don’t even know what I’d say to them if we were reunited...

Yeah, you’re right...

As nice as it would be to meet some new people, I’m plenty happy with the people I know already. I wouldn’t trade the friends I have for anything.

...

...

...

What? I can be nice sometimes...!

Ehehehe! Thank you Maki. It makes me so happy to hear that!

Whatever.

Before we start teasing Maki Roll, let’s draw our fortunes. See if luck’s on our side this year.

*sigh* Do we have to? I’m really not about this stuff...

Are you scared that you might draw a bad fortune?

No! That’s...well, yes, that might be part of it.

Forgive me for stating the obvious, but fortune has not favored me in recent times. I don’t know what I’d do if I pulled a stick that said “worst fortune” or whatever.

That’s a good point. Well, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

Yeah, I think I’ll pass on this one too.

Well, forget all of you, I’m doing it!

*Kaito goes and draws his fortune.

Well?

!!?

That’s not a comforting face...

Don’t tell me you got a bad one...

W-Well, whatever. Even if I did, who cares? It’s just a stupid fortune.

That’s not what you were saying a few seconds ago!

Well, it’s what I’m saying now! I don’t believe in fate anyhow. Never have.

Yeah, and look at it this way. A bad fortune means that it can only get better, you know?

Hey, I said I didn’t care about some dumb fortune!

Listen. Whether it’s good or bad, a lot of amazing things are gonna come our way in the future, and no matter what, we’re gonna fight through them all, together!

I agree!

It’s gonna be hard to be negative when we have rays of sunshine like the two of you around. Aren’t we lucky Shuichi?

You can say that again.

*After paying respects, the group goes around each of the stalls, and decide to play the games available before they grab food.

*PEW!*

*PEW!*

*Kaede, Kaito and Maki, all holding a practice gun, each aim at the prizes on display. They have to shoot and knock them over in order to get the prizes.

RAAGH!

Yes! I got it! Phew!

Congrats Kaede! Better luck next time Kaito...

*Kaito unfortunately misses every shot. Kaede misses her first two shots, but is able to get the prize she wants on her third and final.

*PEW!* *PEW!* *PEW!* 

*Meanwhile, Maki hits three prizes consecutively with her shots, and scores all three.

Right on target...

And no one is surprised...

Here Kaito, have another go and I’ll help you.

Huh? Oh, thanks.

Heh...I’m getting deja vu all of a sudden...

[Flashback]

Don’t bring up things that are irrelevant right now. Just show me how you hold it. 

Alright alright, don’t get so grumpy...

*The next game the group plays, they have to fish out balloons using a hook.

Hey! I got ‘em! First try!

*Kaito successfully hooks two balloons in one go.

Ooh. I got some too.

*Maki also hooks a few of her own.

Nice job you guys. Let’s see if I can do this...

*Unlike the other two, Kaede reaches in and hooks one balloon, but a much bigger one.

Awesome! 

Wah-!? WAAHGH!

GAAGH!

AH! I’m sorry!

*In her excitement, the hook slips from Kaede’s hands, and as she struggles to catch the balloon, it ends up hitting Shuichi, and getting him soaked.

You know, maybe it WAS a good idea not to pull that fortune slip...

I’m so sorry...!

It’s alright...Water under the bridge...or on the kimono more specifically.

Woooah! Look at all this!

I knew it was going to be hard to pick out what to eat, but this is crazy...! There’s so much...!

Wait, is all of this homemade!?

The best new years meals are the one’s you cook yourself after all.

Hm?

*Shuichi suddenly hears his phone vibrate in his pocket and he takes it out.

What’s up?

It’s from Kirumi. She’s letting me know that she’s managed to secure a spot on the hilltop beforehand, so that we can watch the new years fireworks from a distance.

Oh, sweet!

Wait...what time is it? How long to we have until midnight?

An hour.

An hour!? Oh no!

*Kaede suddenly lifts up her skirt and turns in the opposite direction.

Dude, where are you going!? What about the food!?

Oh, um! Sorry! I REALLY gotta be somewhere! Just get me some shrimp fried rice and some mochi! I’m craving it right now! Gotta go!

Kaede!

*Maki calls after her, but Kaede already makes a beeline to the distance.

...

Sorry guys but...I think I’m gonna go after her. Something’s up.

No one’s holding that against you, just tell us where the others are and we’ll meet you in time for the fireworks.

Alright. It’s round about here on the map. See you in a bit!

*Shuichi thanks them and goes to chase Kaede.

*pant!* *pant!* K-Kaede! Where are you!?

*Shuichi, out of breath, gives chase to Kaede up a rather steep hill. He climbs the steps to the best of his ability.

Where was she going? The festival doesn’t go this far out...

Wait...is she going towards...the graveyard? There’s one at this shrine, isn’t there?

Why would she...?

*Shuichi doesn’t stop long to ponder why as he continues to climb.

...

*Kaede, at the graveyard with a bouquet of white roses in hand, walks among the gravestones.

...Where is she...

Oh! There you are...

*Her eyes wall upon a headstone, and she approaches it. She kneels down in front of the slab and places the flowers in front of her.

Happy new year...I’m...glad to see you...

But...I’m sad that I have to see you like this...I hope...wherever you are...you’re happy.

???: S’a beautiful thing, ain’t it?

Huh?

*Kaede hears a voice behind her and turns around to look at who was speaking.

Sorry. Guess I was interruptin’ your prayer. I was just happy to see someone come visit her.

Oh...right...You know, you can sit here too. I won’t mind.

*Noticing the man with the straw hat also has flowers on him, she makes room. He also kneels down in front of the grave, places down a bouquet of several roses of several colors, and puts his hands together in prayer too.

It’s beautiful...I didn’t know there were so many kinds of roses.

Oh yeah, I grew ‘em m’self.

I ain’t really a gard’ner per se, but I figured since it was the new year an’ all, I’d go through the added effort. You know how it is...

Anywho...how’d you know her?

Me? Oh well...

She ran a place relatively close to where I lived. For a short while, I worked for her.

But we were close, both at work and outside it...I owe a lot to her...

I see...

What about you? Is...Is she your family?

No, not really. But we were close enough to basically be cousins at least...

I...didn’t speak to her for a long time. Neither of us are originally from Japan y’know? We knew each other way back when.

That’s amazing...

Yeah...everyone was crushed when she said she wanted to bring her “unique style” overseas...But it’s what she wanted to do...

...Do you...By any chance...know how she died...?

I heard she got done by another person...Murdered I mean...

It makes me sick...but y’know...I’ve had enough time to cry on it...

You seem to take things in stride...Clearly you cared about this woman, but...you’re not as upset as I thought you’d be.

It ain’t like that. How does I put this? It’s like...

This world...even before the tragedy came and went, this world was full of folks  who were rott’n as a bottle o’ milk left out in the blazin’ sun too long...

But it just makes me happy knowin’...that there were people like her, who ain’t never had a wrong bone in her body, to help carry us to brighter futures, ya get me?

I...see...Yeah, you’re right...sorry if I sounded like I was trying to undermine you.

It’s just...it’s...*sniff* It’s so...unfair...!

Naw, don’t sweat it sugar. I know you don’t mean no harm...

But that’s life, y’know? It ain’t fair. It never will be. Sometimes we wish it was her standin’ here instead of us...

But if things went differently, nothin’ would really’ve changed. She mighta’ said the same thing as you.

...!

Listen...I don’t know what you’ve been through...or what she went through...but all I know is that whatever it is...

She knew...that bein’ who she was, she had a responsibility...and that she had to at least try...And I reckon to you that she didn’t have any regrets when she left...

She always wanted to be a hero...to be the kinda woman who could protect others...help them get back on their feet. She felt that way about a lot of us, even if she had a hard time showin’ it.

...But she knew that hero’s...don’t really ever have a choice. But even still, it’s what she wanted.

...

*Kaede wipes her eyes, and suddenly, hugs the man with the hat.

Whoops! We got a hugger...

She...She never got the chance to hear anyone say it...

But she WAS a hero...and an angel...And I can say that from the bottom of my heart.

...

*sniff* Th-Thanks kid...

*The man hugs her back, wiping his own eyes before he has a chance to let the waters flow. The two stay like that for a while, until they finally let go.

You know, I appreciate it an’ all, but it may not be such a good idea to go huggin’ total strangers, y’know?

Yeah, you’re right...sorry, I just...somehow knew I could trust you...

S’alright anyhow. I needed that, and from what I can tell, so did you.

Kaede! Kaede!

Ah!?

Whups! Guess that means I should get goin’ now. Nice meetin’ ya’! And thanks for comin’ to pay respects.

Wait, hold on! I don’t think I caught your name.

Aw shoot, neither me! Well...

I’m Tato. Tato Shimagami.

Tato, huh? Well, it was a pleasure to meet you Tato.

Pleasure’s all mine, Miss Akamatsu. Now I’d best leave you be with yer’ boo.

Yeah, thanks. Sorry I-

Wait, how did you know my-?

Kaede!

Ah! H-Hey Shuichi. Sorry but could you-

Huh?

*Kaede turns around, but when she looks back, Tato Shimagami is gone completely.

Where did he...You saw the guy that was here with me, didn’t you?

I did...but...it’s almost like he vanished...Who was he?

...I...have no idea...

Never mind that though...what are you-

!!?

*Shuichi suddenly looks at the headstone Kaede and Tato placed flowers in front of.

Kaede...I’m...I’m so sorry...

Don’t apologize. It makes sense you’d come running after me, since I just ditched you guys like that...

It’s just...this was important...and it was something I had to do alone...

*sigh* I’m a terrible friend...I only-

Kaede! No! Not now...not here...

*Shuichi moves in and grabs her into a hug.

Shuichi...

This...This has to stop! It really does!

I...I heard about what you asked of Kuripa, in much clearer detail...I know I probably should’ve waiting for you yourself to tell me, but I needed to know.

I respect your wishes and your decisions, and the last thing I will ever want to do is get in your way, but you’re not being fair to yourself.

We love you...I love you...Just as much as SHE loved you.

We’re friends...we’re family...! And we do NOT wanna lose you too...Not again...

...

*Kaede returns Shuichi’s embrace, and the two kiss...When they pull away, Kaede takes his hand and looks back at the grave.

...

She knew that she couldn’t stand up to Zetsubou...She knew that she couldn’t protect me from the evils of the world...

But she also knew...she was the only one who could try...

...Yeah...maybe it’s high time we took up the torch.

I agree...But for now?

*Kaede pinches her cheek and wipes her eyes.

Let’s get to those fireworks!

Sure!

*Still holding hands, the two leave the gravestone...etched upon it, are the words...

In loving memory of Chinami Hasami.

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #5 - Reminiscing

Word Count: 1195

Warnings: Mention of The Fall, Cursing, Teasing, Fluff, Not Much Else

Setting/Characters: Takes place before they moved to D.C., so before Stars, Stripes, and Bubbles and CA:TWS; In New York City; Reader, Steve Rogers

A/N: I didn’t post any writing today so I whipped this up because I wanted to at least put a dent in the One Shot list. I know it’s a bit out of order, but I got this request and I wanted to make it separate from the movie scenes because I felt like Steve would’ve told her this before. They also hadn’t visited the museum yet, obviously, or else she’d know about him already. It’s just a cute little thing about the good ole days. It’s a bit shorter, but there wasn’t much more to add and I like it the way it is.

I’ll try posting more this week; I’m babysitting my little cousin tomorrow and Tuesday, but I’m off work Wednesday, so I’ll be able to write more then. The next One Shot is already being worked on; it’s back in order so it’s gonna take place during TWS. I have to update the One Shot list to accommodate the ideas brainstormed between myself, a couple friends, and you lovely readers.

This isn’t beta’d, as usual, so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy this one, thank you for reading, and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You let out a wolf whistle, leaning on the back of Steve’s chair. “Who is that? He’s pretty cute. You know, for someone from a hundred years ago.”

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes at you with a smile on his lips. It fell when he looked back down at the black and white picture that was fraying at the ends and had a tint to it from the time it’s spent on the earth. The young man you were pointing at, probably mid-20s if you had to guess, was grinning at the camera, looking sharp in an Army uniform, hat tilted on his head.

“That’s…Bucky.”

“Bucky?” You snickered, but then you caught sight of the far off look in Steve’s eye and found yourself frowning. “Who was he?”

“He was…” Steve sighed, leaning back into the chair, his head falling back onto your forearm. “He was my best friend.”

You set your chin on his shoulder, looking at another picture, yellowing with time. He was in that one too, over to the side with a cigarette in his mouth, his arm around two other soldiers, dark hair slicked back. You had heard about the Howling Commandos, who you were guessing were the other guys in the photo. Everyone learned about them in history class in grade school. Captain America and his Commandos fighting against HYDRA, beating the Nazis and saving the day. “Did you meet in Italy?”

“No.” Steve shook his head, carefully setting down the beat up picture. “We…we met when we were kids. We grew up together. In Brooklyn.”

Humming, you studied him, noting the tightened jaw and the crease in his brow, you looked down and tilted your head, spotting another picture of the two of them smiling. Tracing it gently, you tenderly inquired, “he meant a lot to you?”

“He was my brother. He was always there for me. At my lowest, he held me up. I never was truly alone. I always had him.”

You could hear the grief in his voice as he spoke in adoration about the man, frozen in time with a smile on his face in a frame to protect him from fading. “What happened?” You asked softly, running your fingers through Steve’s gold locks that were falling in his eyes.

Steve gave a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. “A mission went sideways. To catch Zola?” He looked up at you to see if you had read about that particular operation of theirs in a file somewhere. You nodded, remembering vaguely the mission he was talking about.

“A train in the Alps, right? I thought you caught him, though.”

The man nodded, sad eyes avoiding your gaze. “We did. But…we were ambushed. Bucky…Bucky and I were separated. I tried to get to him…I couldn’t-” He stopped talking, closing his eyes to compose himself. “He fell and I couldn’t reach him in time.”

“Steve…” you shook your head, scratching that spot at the nape of his neck you knew helped him relax. “It wasn’t your fault, bubs.” He opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it and nodded. “May I?”

He nodded again when you gestured to the box he had on the desk in front of him, letting you look through the other pictures he had. “Tell me about him.”

The blonde gave a little chuckle, smiling fondly at the memories spinning around in his brain. “He was a jerk. He always tried to keep my outta trouble. We met after some kids tried stealing my lunch money. I-I kinda tried fighting them. He beat ‘em up for me.”

“You never did like bullies.”

He grinned at you. “No…no I didn’t. There was this one time…”

You leaned your cheek against his shoulder and watched his face light up as he told you stories about him and Bucky being boys. Playing in the mud, racing through Central Park, going to Coney Island, eating ice cream, sitting on the fire escape. 

“He used to read to me. A lot. When I got sick and stuff. He liked reading. He told me it was his way of taking me somewhere without getting outta bed. I used to draw him scenes from his favorite books while listening. It gave me something to do with my hands. That’s why I picked it up. I could do it from bed.”

“Did he draw too?”

“Hell no! Pal could barely draw a stick figure! I made him take this art class with me and all he did was mope about it because it was the only class he had trouble in. But it was our agreement; he could take me to the gym he went to if he came with me to class.”

You giggled at the image of scrawny little Steve in a gym. “You went to a gym?”

He gave you a bemused look. “You’re not funny. Yes I went to a gym. I didn’t do much. Bucky trained a lot though. He was the YMCA welterweight champion three years in a row.”

“No kidding.” You picked up a picture of Bucky sitting on a couple steps, a t-shirt tucked into pants being held up by suspenders. “Look at those arms.”

“Shuddup!” Steve laughed, pushing you playfully. 

You sniggered. “I’m just saying. I bet he got all the ladies.”

“Are you kidding? Dames lined up at the door to dance with him. You would’ve too,” he poked your side. “If you lived back then.”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “He’s cute, but I’d much rather watch you draw.”

Steve snorted. “Trust me. You’d be singing a different tune if you met him. You would’ve liked him. He would’ve liked you.” He went quiet, his expression morphing into one of contemplation.

“Well anyone willing to stand up and hang out with that stubborn kid from Brooklyn has my vote.” You joked, ruffling his locks.

Steve didn’t say anything. He just looked at you for a minute, before turning back to the pictures and starting to clear them away. “I’m gonna put these away and we can go for that run, alright?”

You nodded, getting off of him and stretching. “Alright. But you can’t lap me again!” He chortled at that, smirking not so innocently. “I’m so serious, Rogers! That was mean! I feel so out of shape when you do that!”

“Alright, alright. I won’t honey. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss to your knuckles. “And you’re beautiful no matter what, okay?”

“Sure, bubba.”

“I mean it!”

You smiled at his insistence, his eyebrow knit together in seriousness. “Okay. Meet me outside when you’re done.”

“Yes ma’am!” He nodded, spinning back to his keepsakes and adding as an afterthought, “wanna go see a moving picture?”

You gave him an amused look, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, Stevie. I’d love to go see a movie with you.”

He blushed, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Movies. Right.”

“Don’t worry about it, Steve. It’s endearing.” You winked at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Now hurry up. I wanna get out there before it gets too hot.”

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[pagesoflauren]

Money’s Worth - You’re Mine

soft husband!Ransom Drysdale x reader

Summary: Starting 2021 answering the question I got asked the most in 2020: “How will the reader react to learning that Ransom hooked up with someone when she was away for Christmas?”

A/N: When y’all filled out this poll, there was a 100% yes answer for a spinoff for The Highest Bidder. Well, here it is: Money’s Worth. In which Ransom is getting $50,000+ worth of experiences with his wife and child(ren). If you have more ideas, don’t be shy, drop ‘em in my ask box! I’ll update this series from time to time. 

If you were tagged in Highest Bidder, I automatically tagged you in this. If you’d like to be removed, let me know! My feelings won’t be hurt, I promise ❤️

Also, I’m sorry if your name is Amanda 🥴

Warnings: smut, swearing, jealousy, angst, daddy!kink

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Money’s Worth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Darling, can you go over to the next aisle and get a couple boxes of pasta?” 

Ransom nods, even though you’re too engrossed in looking at the differences between chickpea-based and gluten-based pasta. 

His son is awake, wide eyes looking around at brightly colored food packages and fluorescent lights with a pacifier in his mouth. From what Ransom recalls of tales from when he was a baby, Harlan Jr. is more like you. Quietly observing, not kicking up too much of a fuss. 

Pinching the baby’s nose gently and coaxing a small giggle out of him, Ransom ventures over to the next aisle to find the pasta you like. 

A sharp gasp and an obnoxious “oh my God,” draws his attention. When he looks up and finds the source of the voice, his stomach gurgles with dread and annoyance. 

“All the times I’ve been here, I’ve never seen you,” she says. “What are you up to? Disappointing more girls in bed?”

Ransom weighs his options in his head. He could dig low, reminding her of all the times she was actually begging for him, or he could take the high ground, grab the pasta, and ignore her. 

He does the latter, though makes the mistake of using his left hand to do so.

“Is that a wedding band?” she scoffs. 

“Yeah, it is--” 

“Oh, Ransom, don’t get that one, we want the bigger noodles.” 

Shutting his eyes, Ransom shouts all the swear words he can think of in his mind. This is such bad timing! 

“No fucking way,” Rebecca--or is it Veronica?--scoffs. 

“Hi,” Ransom sees you give a sickeningly sweet smile and he wants to disappear into the shelves. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall ever meeting you.” 

“I’m Amanda.” 

Wow. Completely different name than the ones his mind was supplying. 

“Your husband and I know each other pretty well.” 

He can see the gears turning in your head, analyzing the situation. 

“Quite frankly, I’m not surprised about the little one. I’m sure he did the same thing to you as he did to me, just finished and decided he was done without fully getting the job done!”

You’re visibly taken aback. “I’m sorry?” 

“Oh, we just hooked up casually like, two years ago? I can’t really remember, it was during Christmas though. Hadn’t heard from him in a while and he mentioned being lonely and I figured ‘Why not?’”

“Two years ago?” you echo, looking at her, then at Ransom. 

“It was casual, I left right after,” he points out, 

“Oh, were you two together then? I’m so sorry--”

“You know what, Veronica, just get your stupid pasta or rice or whatever the fuck you’re here for and leave me and my wife in peace! Don’t you have better shit to do?!”

“It’s Amanda.”

“I don’t care.” 

Rolling her eyes, she leaves, turning on her heel and exiting the aisle. 

Ransom turns back to you and doesn’t like the thoughtful look on your face. You don’t look at him or Harlan, just at the contents in your cart. 

“Hey, don’t let whatever she said get to you. You know I love you,” he reaches for you, fingertip just grazing your cheek and you cringe away from him. 

“Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s go.” 

You’ve snapped at him before to remind him to stop completely at intersections or double check the temperature of Harlan’s bottle. You’ve never snapped at him that way, in irritation as if you can’t stand him. 

He recoils, drawing his touch away from you. “Well, just...let me get the right one.” 

“Ransom,” you deadpan, “I wanna go home. Just put the pasta in the cart and let’s. go.” 

He does as you say, carefully placing the boxes atop the other items. 

You don’t speak to him as you check out and sit in the backseat with Harlan to make sure he’s okay as he drives the three of you home. His little eyelids drop closed, completely calm despite the palpable tension between the two of you. 

Once at home, Ransom takes care of the groceries while you bring Harlan upstairs to his crib so he can continue to sleep. Just as you get him settled, you hear your husband pipe up. 

“So, can we talk about what happened at the grocery store?”

You sigh, straightening up. You cross your arms as you turn to face him. “When was the last time you saw her?” 

“When you were on winter break a few months after you had just moved in.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, a whirlpool of emotions spinning around in your chest. 

You’re angry and hurt, but you don’t know why. The two of you were just starting your sugar arrangement and it wasn’t anything deeper than that. There weren’t any feelings on your end until the following spring. 

“It wasn’t anything, it was just some hook up. She was just being a bitch because I left--”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” you interrupt him. 

You had long reconciled Ransom’s past and never held it against him. But you just cannot pin the exact reason why this revelation bothers you. 

“Look, I’m still figuring out things going on in my head. And I don’t really...I don’t really want to see you right now.” 

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” he argues, “We weren’t anything. We only became a thing in July.” 

“Really?” you wonder. You weren’t going to bring this up, but it feels fair in order to get him to understand your perspective. “I had a crush on someone from my cohort.” You watch his expression shift from annoyed to surprised. “I kissed him once. In November, after I moved in with you. But it didn’t work out because I was living with you, so we decided to not do anything about it.” 

You can see the visible tinge of red on his neck. “Are you saying that just to get at me?”

“It’s the truth,” you say. “Does it bother you?” 

You can see him setting his jaw as he takes in the information. 

“But we weren’t anything, right?” you remind him of the words he spoke just minutes before. 

Ransom doesn’t say anything. He turns away and walks down the hall. You hear him going down the stairs and then the door to his office slams. 

You check on Harlan, he’s still sound asleep. Slightly relieved, you move into your bedroom and sit on the mattress. 

Ransom lets out a long-winded groan when he deletes the sentence he’s been working on for the fifty-second time in twenty minutes. 

He feels odd knowing you liked someone when you were living with him, just as the seeds of his feelings were being planted. He’s taken pride in the fact that he was the only one to have you, but turns out your heart was a better prize and that wasn’t his completely. 

He doesn’t doubt you love him and he’s certain he never has to worry about sharing you ever again, but it still bothers him. 

He scrubs his hands over his face and rubs the back of his neck. 

He remembers fights between his parents never being resolved, which resulted in their marriage slowly disintegrating into a financial arrangement than a romantic relationship. 

He knows you late at night when you’re both hungry; knows you pregnant and crying over hermit crabs while watching nature documentaries; knows you between his arms and keeping him warm, making him feel safe and loved when he felt he didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t want this to turn into anything close to the example of marriage he saw growing up. 

Shutting his laptop, he gets up and marches to the door. When he yanks it open, you’re standing there. 

“What are you doing?” 

You look caught, as if you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. “I...I wanted to talk. Unless you don’t want to.”

You begin to leave and he grabs your arm. “No, let’s talk.” 

Stepping into the room feels reminiscent of walking into his office at the publishing house for the first time. You’re not comfortable entering this territory. 

Hugging your arms around your middle, making yourself look as small as you feel, you decide to just be forward. Your words come out sheepishly, “I just...I didn’t like knowing the moment I was gone, you went out and replaced me. Even if we didn’t have an exclusive label. And, I just thought, like, I realize it doesn’t matter because we’re married. And like you said, I know you love me. But, I don’t know. Just didn’t sit right with me.” 

Ransom sighs, shaking his head. “I wasn’t replacing you or anything like that. I...I saw a change in myself from just having you with me for a few months. But I thought you’d leave as soon as you got the opportunity,” he uses a large sweeping gesture as if he’s picturing you leaving all over again. “And I’d…” he hesitates, hand up by his head before his arm goes slack, “be back to my shitty normal self.” 

It’s different now with the explanation, and you wish you had been in the mindset to listen to him earlier instead of hurt him.

“And I get it. Knowing you had a crush on some guy doesn’t sit right with me either. I just,” he looks up and distantly, “I wonder what he had. What made you like him but then you were fine with nothing happening and then you started liking me?” 

“Neither of us were ready for a relationship at the time. We had just started and our first semester was crazy.” You take your turn to explain. “And feelings just come and go sometimes. I saw him again in February and it just...wasn’t there.” 

He takes in your strikingly simpler explanation, understanding your reference to fleeting feelings that are gone almost as quickly as they appear. 

“I’m sorry, Ransom. I shouldn’t have said anything about that. It was so stupid and it really didn’t mean anything--”

“Neither did Amanda.” 

“I…” you trail off, not knowing what to say. 

“I wasn’t being very understanding earlier when you first said it bothered you. You were just trying to get me to know your side of things.” 

“Doesn’t make it right,” you counter. “I really am so sorry.” 

Ransom smiles and laughs to himself. He still doesn’t know how to accept an apology. He sighs, reaching for you. “How long do you think junior will be asleep?” 

“Could be an hour, maybe two,” you answer as he draws you closer with a hand around your waist. 

“Think that’s plenty of time for us to make it up to each other.”

“Technically I need to make it up to you,” you correct him as you take his hand. “And I know how I want to.” 

You lead him back around his desk, ushering him to sit in his chair. It’s large with dark blue velvet, providing enough room for you too and straddle his lap. 

You dive for his mouth, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. 

His left hand comes to cradle your jaw, keeping your lips locked onto his, while his right hand drifts down your back to cup your bottom. 

You grind your core against his, smiling when you feel his hips jut up to yours. Tilting your head you give a tentative lick into his mouth. He opens up, bringing his tongue in to play with yours. 

It reminds you of how it was when it started; being shy  and letting him take the lead. You haven’t fallen into this cloudy headspace in a long time, but it feels so good that when you pull back and gasp the word “daddy,” it feels so natural. 

Ransom, on the other hand, is taken aback. He’s gotten used to you calling him “darling” or other terms of endearment. Hearing you call him that awakens something that had long gone into hibernation; and he wasn’t sure if it would ever see the light of day again. 

But like you, he slips into the space, creating a firm grip on your ass as a smirk appears on his face. 

“Wanna call me ‘daddy,’ baby? Hm?” he taunts. Your eyes are wide and doey, feigning innocence when he knows you’re far from it now. “Well, guess we can do that. We’ll make up for that night I wasted on someone else.” 

He watches your brows furrow and eyes squint in anger. Your hands slide into his hair, fingers tightening in the tresses. It creates a pull on his scalp, something he enjoys. “You’re mine, daddy,” you whisper just before your lips are on his again, kissing him harder than before, certain to bruise. 

You pull away and lean down to nip at his neck, hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You pop the button and undo the zipper unceremoniously. 

You remove yourself from his lap only to kneel between his legs on the carpet, pulling his jeans down to his knees. His boxers are quick to follow, revealing his hardening member. You grasp it, giving it a few squeezes and tugs the way you know he likes, watching his head loll back against the back of his chair. 

“This is mine, too,” you say. 

“Yeah?” he pants, looking down at you. A hand grazes through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. “My cock only belongs to you?” 

You nod, working him with more determination. 

“Then take it, baby.” 

You practically lunge for it, leaning forward to take him into your mouth, lips spreading to accommodate his girth. 

You’re satisfied with the sound Ransom makes, something between pained and blissful. He eggs you on, gathering your hair into a ponytail secured with his hand as he guides you to take more and withdraw in rhythm. 

You want him to finish in your mouth, but he pulls you off him and makes to lift you back onto his lap. You stand, already shimmying out of your bottoms. 

Straddling him again, you focus your attention down to poise yourself just above the head of him. 

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and makes you look at him before crashing his lips on yours once more. 

“Take what’s yours, baby. It’ll always be yours,” he whispers. 

You sink down, crying out at the feeling of him within you. The doctor had just given you the green light to resume sex as normal after Harlan’s birth weeks ago, but you haven’t been able to find a lot of time to tangle with each other without your baby or Ransom’s book needing attention. 

Ransom appears to have an equally hazy feeling, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes. You straighten up slightly until just the tip of him is in and lower yourself again. 

It’s so much for the both of you that his hands come to your waist and he guides your pace. “Slow,” he instructs you. 

You obey, finding a steady pattern as you build a climax for the both of you. Coaxing your hips the slightest bit forward, Ransom sinks all the way to reach that spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Like that, baby?” he taunts you again, moving your hips up and down his length. “Tell daddy.” 

“Yes,” you gasp, “Just like that, daddy.” 

He works you until you’re nearing your end, tightening and pulsing around him to bring on his orgasm as well. Just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he taps below your eyes, a silent request for you to look at him. 

Your eyes meet his and he verbalizes exactly what he’s thinking. “I’m yours,” he pants, “I’m yours, my baby, my sunshine.” You fall forward and kiss him, letting him swallow your moans and whines. “Come for me, let me show you.” 

Your body weakens in his grasp, leaning onto him for support. Your movements falter and he makes up for them, jutting his hips up until he’s finishing within you. 

You gasp at the warmth that blooms in your stomach, feeling like gravity is failing but it’s okay; Ransom’s holding onto you, keeping you grounded. 

He holds you tightly as you breathe heavily, trying to recover your strength. You sigh and your arms wrap around his shoulders. You hear him chuckle and lean back. 

“We should’ve thought this through better,” he smiles, “We gotta get upstairs and clean up.” 

You moan your disappointment. “M’tired. Can’t we just stay here a bit?” 

Moving your hair out of your face, he kisses your exposed forehead. “Okay, sunshine,” he agrees. “Just a few minutes.” 

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[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: none that I’m aware of

Word Count: 2912

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Chapter 18: What Would Have Happened

It happened so quickly. One minute, Hazel had shown up to the mansion with the desire to help the family with the prevention of the apocalypse, then next minute, Five was watching Diego and Hazel fight before him for almost a full forty five seconds. Punches and kicks were thrown, blood was drawn, but Five decided to step in when Diego clamped his teeth down on Hazel’s ear. Setting his margarita down on the bar, Five blinked behind his brother with a glass vase before smashing it down on his head, the vigilante collapsing to the ground, unconscious. “I draw the line at biting.” He remarked as he made his way back over to the bar. He glanced over at Hazel, who was groaning and nursing his ear. “Hazel, whatever you came here to say, I suggest you make it quick, before he comes ‘round.”

“I left my partner, quit the Commission, came to volunteer.”

“For what?” Five returned to his seat at the bar, picking up his drink.

“To help stop the apocalypse.” Hazel swiped glass off of his shoulder. The man earned a chuckle from the boy as he sipped on his drink. Hazel frowned. “What on earth could be so funny to you right now?”

“Before I answer that, why do you wanna help us?”

Hazel took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in a doughnut shop.” Whatever that meant. Five smiled as he took his straw out of his mouth.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, pal, but you’re a day late and a dollar short. The fact that you’re here right now means, without a shadow of a doubt, the apocalypse is over.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“The mark is dead. Found him this morning,” Five inhaled as he thought over (Y/N)’s words of suspicion. “You were the last known unknown left in the equation.”

Hazel let out an airy chuckle, slightly shaking his head. “Shit… Really?”

“Mmhm,” Five nodded and turned around in his seat. “And if you’re out, then Hellrider ain’t riding.”

Throwing his head back, Hazel inhaled deeply, raising his fists in the air. “Oh! Alright!” He grinned. Letting out a relieved laugh, he stepped away from Diego and joined Five at the bar. Picking up the blender, he gulped down what was left of the margarita, Five chuckling and turning his head forward. When Hazel emptied the blender, he set it back in place, exhaling in content. “So now what?”

“You know, to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve been chasing this thing for so long, I…,” He and Hazel turned to each other. “I never really thought about the day after… I don’t know. What about you?”

“I’m done with all of this madness,” Hazel shook his head. “Time to start over. You should do the same.”

“That’s easier said than done…”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. I mean, think about it like this. If you never time traveled, you never got caught up with The Handler, what would have happened?”

Five glanced over his shoulder, at the unconscious Diego, before turning back to Hazel. “I guess I would have grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everybody else around here,” He nodded, Hazel softly chuckling. “But after that… I guess I would have married the love of my life.”

Hazel raised his brows and leaned back a bit. “Really? I would’ve never guessed a cold-hearted killer would have a soft spot. Especially for a girl.”

“Yeah, well… neither did I. But there’s nothing else I’d rather do right now…”

“Well, there you go. Now you can grow up and get married,” Rising from his seat, Hazel nodded at the boy. “Good luck.” As he began to leave, Five glanced over at Delores. This was the time to make things right. The boy called out to Hazel as he turned toward him.

“One more thing before you go.”

“Shoot.”

“Which one of you was the triggerman for Detective Patch?”

“Triggerwoman.” Hazel blinked. Five sighed through his nose.

“Huh. That’s too bad… That gun could’ve cleared my brother’s name.”

Hazel inhaled as he reached into his pockets. “Well, today’s your lucky day, amigo,” He took out two guns and walked up to Five, setting them down on the bar. “Take ‘em both. I’m done with this life.”

Five gave him a ghost of a smile of gratitude as he watched him leave the parlor. And with that, another weight had been lifted from his child-like shoulders. Turning back to Delores, Five deeply sighed. “Now it’s… Now it’s figuring out what (Y/N) wants…”

“Diego?!” As if on cue, the girl’s voice rang throughout the room. He looked over his shoulder to see her crouching beside their brother, placing a hand on his head, (e/c) eyes full of concern.

“He’s fine.” Five spoke up. Her head snapped up to him.

“He is?”

“I just knocked him out. Did what I had to do.”

“Oh, well, then…” She stood with a shrug, moving to his side. Sitting down in the seat Hazel once occupied, she placed a hand on his back. “How’re you doing, bub?”

The nickname sent a rush of heat to Five’s face and ears. He hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable. “Honestly, I’m a little lost, Starlight… I didn’t have a plan after this.”

“Well, then, what do you wanna do?” She held his free hand in hers, raising it to her lips. “Now that you’ve got loads of freetime.”

“I was hoping you’d help me with that,” He leaned closer, gently touching foreheads with her. “Now that I have no idea what the future holds for us… I just want to have one with you.”

“I’ve cried enough these past eight days, Five,” (Y/N) sniffled with a grin on her face. “Don’t make me do it again.” They both chuckled quietly, hands tightly clasped together. They knew this wasn’t a life or death situation, but they’d been so used to losing each other that every moment of peace felt like nothing but the calm before the horrible, horrible storm. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her love in a warm hug. Not even hesitating, he returned it, gently rubbing her shoulder. “You mean it? You want a future with me?”

“I mean it with every pubescent bone in my body.”

“Ew…” She laughed, the sound alone tugging at his heart. He then felt the warmth of her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. He swore his heart exploded right then and there. When she pulled away, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t formulate a single sentence in his mind. It hadn’t even been a real kiss and yet it had rendered him speechless, nonetheless. She smirked in amusement at his current state. “Five, you’re staring.”

“I’m well aware.” He breathed. She giggled and circled around him to leave the room, their eyes never breaking contact as their fingers lingered against each other. When they had finally let go, both their hands twitched, itching for that contact again. (Y/N) placed her fingers against her lips as she turned away and left the parlor to head upstairs. She had planned to go check on her children again. It had felt like months since she’d last seen them. Now that the end of all life on earth had been stopped, she knew she had to make things right and explain everything to them. No matter how crazy she sounded. She owed them that much.

She passed by Allison’s room, but stopped when she saw movement from the small crack in the door. Slowly opening the door wider, she gasped at the sight of Allison, now in different clothing, walking around her room. The woman turned towards the door, a tearful smile stretching across her face. “You’re awake…” The girl teared up as the two ran to each other, engulfing one another in a hug. Allison sniffled and kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Oh, god, you’re okay, Ally, you’re okay…” She repeated, more to herself than to Allison. When they pulled away, they sat themselves on the bed. The Rumor reached over to her notepad and began to write something down. (Y/N) leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees, waiting patiently for her sister with a small smile on her face. The smile faltered when Allison turned the notepad to her.

VANYA KNOWS

“She knows?” (Y/N) frowned. “She knows what?” Her gaze followed Allison’s writing.

WHAT WE DID

“Allison, I’m not understanding.” She shook her head. Allison sighed in frustration and hastily scribbled down her response.

THE RUMOR

“The rumor? Like… when we were little?” She asked, Allison nodding. “Is that why she did this? She found out about… but I don’t understand. What did the…”

“I heard a rumor… you think you’re just ordinary.”

“Number Eight, summon a clone. Tell it to make sure Number Seven does not leave her room. No matter what.”

Her face formed into horrified shock. “So, Vanya has powers,” The nod of confirmation from Allison had the girl running her hands down her face. “Jesus Christ… and we were both in on it…” The two sat in silence. Both in fear. Both in shame. Shameful of the pain they’d caused their sister, of blindly following through with their father’s plans without a single word of protest. (Y/N) turned her attention to the sound of the marker against the paper.

ITS MY FAU-

“No,” (Y/N) held Allison’s wrist, forcing her to halt her writing. “It’s my fault as much as it is yours. We were both there… I take this blame with you. Okay, Ally? You don’t have to make yourself feel like shit all the time,” The scoff she got from Allison made (Y/N) frown. “Allison, tell me one good thing you think you’ve done.” Silence followed. Allison stared down at her knees for what seemed like forever before shaking her head with a shrug.

“Well, I’ve got a list. Let’s see… You promote my work in your interviews… You gave birth to my favorite niece,” The woman silently giggled at that. “You were my maid of honor… You stay so fucking strong despite the shit thrown at you constantly,” She reached over and held her sister’s hand. “You’re learning, Ally. We all are. No one said we had to be perfect… We do shitty things and then we learn from them. Yes, part of the process is feeling like shit, but it isn’t the end. I just want you to know… you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me. If you ever feel like a piece-of-shit-sister… know that I think otherwise. Vanya doesn’t hate you… I’m sure after we properly apologize, she’ll understand, right? She just found out that everything she was ever told was a lie… and the source of it. She’s learning, too. We just need to be patient with her. No one really ever was…”

Allison smiled down at her notepad and scribbled something down before holding it up.

PRETTY SMART FOR A KID

“Piss off, Allison.” (Y/N) laughed.

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

After leaving Allison to her own devices, (Y/N) slipped into her bedroom and swiped her car keys off her bedside table. She whistled a tune and spun the keys on her finger as she walked towards the stairs. Hearing rustling, she halted when she saw Five in his own room. She walked inside and gently knocked on the door. He looked up from the duffle bag he had just unzipped and smiled tightly. “Hey, Starlight.”

“Hey, bub,” She watched him with a raised brow. “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, well… I figured if I’m going to move on and live as much of a normal life as I can… I’ve gotta let go of the past.” He motioned towards Delores, who sat in her usual chair. (Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Seriously? Five, you’re returning Delores?”

“It won’t be easy, I admit,” He grunted. “But I… I have to do this.”

“Make things right,” She nodded, Five staring at her in slight confusion. “You could say I’m on my own journey with that…”

“We all might as well be,” He slowly picked up Delores, his green eyes holding so much care and fondness for the mannequin. He hesitated as he so very gently placed her in the duffle bag. Sighing, he turned his head to (Y/N). “Would you like to say any last words to her, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, uh… Sure,” The girl cleared her throat and slowly walked to Five’s side. He stepped back a little to give her space. Her eyes darted around the room. From Five, to his posters, to the window, before finally landing on Delores. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Delores… um, well, we didn’t talk all that much, but… I think if Five likes you so much, you must be pretty great. I, uh… actually wanna thank you… for taking care of him. He went through hell and my worst fear was that he’d do it alone… but you came in and did what I couldn’t. And I’ll be eternally grateful for that. I wish you luck in life, Delores.” Standing up straight, she turned to Five, who nodded in satisfaction.

“Beautifully said. Now,” He walked closer and zipped up the duffle bag. “I’ll only be a little while.”

“Oh, wait,” (Y/N) gently pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. “I can drive you there.”

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

(Y/N)’s car parked in front of the department store Five had directed her to. Very slowly, the boy removed his seatbelt and turned to the backseat, where the duffle bag sat. He let out a breath and slowly reached back for it. “I don’t know, Starlight… If I can…”

“I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want, Five… But if you truly want to move on and have… that future… This is kinda necessary. I know you can do this, bub. You have more than just Delores now. You’ve got our siblings, you’ve got me.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Five hummed and grabbed hold of the duffle bag, dragging it into his lap. His finger gently ran over the fabric as he shut his eyes.

“I know…”

Seeing the somber look in his eyes once they opened, she tilted her head and smiled. “Make sure they get her a new outfit. She’d look beautiful in red.”

Five chuckled and shook his head, opening his door to leave. “I’ll be back.” He whispered.

“And I’ll be right here.” She smiled. He returned the expression before getting out and closing the door, swinging the bag onto his back as he strode inside the store. (Y/N) leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, a distant vision she’d had years ago resurfacing her memories.

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

The clone stood a few feet away from Five, who sat on the hood of an abandoned car with Delores by his side. The boy sighed and stared up at the star-painted sky. He threw his arm around the mannequin’s “shoulder” and leaned into her. “These stars remind me of (Y/N)... Who is she? Oh, just… a girl…” The clone stalked closer to the car in silence. “What? No, Delores, she’s… Well, she’s dead now. I just called her Starlight because… that’s what she was to me. In an endless sea of darkness, she shone in all her glory. She didn’t make the darkness go away, but she sure made it more bearable to live with… Yeah,” He bitterly chuckled. “Yeah, I was in love with her… But it doesn’t matter. She’s… She’s gone now,” He turned his head to face Delores, his eyes softening. “But at least I have you…”

The clone’s foot came into contact with a nearby scrap of metal, the screeching of it sliding against the ground alerting Five. He jumped up and turned to the clone in anger. “Go away!” He tried waving it off. When it didn’t respond, he hopped off the car and stormed up to it. “I said go away! All you ever do is stand there and look like her! You don’t talk like her or smile like her o-or laugh like her! You just sit there and take up space! Just get the hell away from me!” He shouted, not daring to get any closer, for he knew he’d only get shoved back. The clone only squinted its eyes at Five, the boy sighing in exasperation and stomping back to the car. It watched as he sat atop the hood, burying his face into his hands.

“What the hell am I gonna do with it, Delores…?”

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

The girl snapped her eyes open when she heard the car door opening. Turning to her right, she was greeted with the sight of Five. Alone. As he climbed into his seat and shut the door, she grinned brightly at him. She reached her hand over and placed it over his. “I’m so proud of you…” She whispered. The boy only nodded, eyes trained on his knees. (Y/N) tilted her head and hummed in a soothing manner. She considered her next decision for about a solid two minutes before starting the car up again.

“Do you want to meet Michael and Jada?”

—————————————

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[winterscaptain]

take the day.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: a treat for the grown-ups in the room! this was inspired by an ask from many moons ago, and a couple of ideas submitted in the form. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, tell me what you think (and practice safe sex)! this fic contains explicit content and is 18+. minors do not interact or prepare to be blocked! also some tags aren’t working - please double check your urls below!

words: 2.8k warnings: smut (p in v penetration, [consentual & monogamous] unprotected sex, creampie, counter sex, floor sex, oral [reader receiving], very light soft dom!aaron),language, food mention

summary: “if you can’t laugh with your partner during sex, break up.” - my sister-in-law. au!november 2021.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

“Take the day. Nothing’s going on here and we don’t have any cases for once.” 

You tuck the phone under your chin as you pack the last of the kids’ lunches. “Really?”

Emily’s smile is audible through the phone. “Really. It’s Friday, and isn’t Hotch out today?” 

“Yeah, but mostly just to avoid the meetings with -” 

Just then, Jack rockets down the stairs, throws his backpack over his shoulder, and grabs his lunch off the counter. With a kiss to your cheek, he jets out the door with a quick, “Bye, Mom!” 

You blink rapidly, kind of taken aback by the abrupt nature of his departure. He can drive himself to school now, but he doesn’t always take advantage of it. 

“Sorry, Em. Jack just left for school like a damn tornado and I gotta get Isaac out of bed.”

She laughs. “No worries. Swing by my office when you drop the girls at preschool. I’ve got a couple of things for Aaron.” 

+++

When you return, the house is eerily quiet. 

You toe off your shoes and round the corner to the office with an armful of files in your hand. 

Unceremoniously, you drop them on his desk. “These are from Emily.” 

He huffs a laugh through his nose without looking up. “Thanks.” 

With a sly little smile, you leave him to his work. 

Padding across the hall to the master bedroom, you light the fireplace and replace your winter clothes with one of his dress shirts, two buttons holding it closed over the middle of your abdomen, and a pair of fuzzy socks. 

You’re grateful for the central heating in the house. You’d never be able to pull this off without it. 

After you sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water (you know - the ruse of usefulness), you return to him and place the water next to his left hand. He hardly looks up but mutters his thanks under his breath. 

You take your time leaving the office, just reaching the door when you hear, “Wait, hey. Whoa. Back up.” 

You don’t follow instructions, walking out of his office and into the kitchen, making play at putting lunch together. 

A pair of familiar hands slide up your thighs and underneath the shirt.

“Is this mine?” 

You hum in the affirmative. “Thought you’d like it. It looks good on you so I figured it would look alright on me.” 

“Uh huh. Yeah, well, if those were the rules I’d have to hand over my entire wardrobe.” Aaron spins you and presses you back into the island, your back arching as he crowds closer to you, his mouth hovering over your neck. “You look better in my clothes than I do.” 

You hum again, but your brain is too fuzzy to come up with a retort. He laves kisses over your neck, dropping to your collarbone and brushing his shirt off your shoulder. You decide in that moment to let go, relaxing back into the counter and giving him implicit permission to have his way with you. 

“Yeah?” He asks, feeling you sink back. 

You nod, bringing your hand to his hair and pulling him to your lips. “Yeah.” 

With a dark laugh, he turns you around again and snags your hands, pressing them to the cold granite countertop. You’re stretched taut, your legs already shaking with anticipation. 

His hands slide up your arms and over your back, the starched fabric of his dress shirt a delicious texture over your skin. He reaches your hips, his hands wandering under the hem of his shirt and hooking his fingers in the fabric of your underwear, practically tearing them over your ass and down your legs. You step out of them and he nudges them out of the way. 

He kicks your feet apart at the ankles, spreading your legs and forcing your back into a gentle arch. 

A perk of law enforcement training - some moves translate well in the bedroom. 

Or the kitchen. 

You hear him unbutton his jeans and free himself, not even pretending the last half-hour hasn’t been its own kind of foreplay. An empty house is practically an open invitation at this point. 

He runs the head of his cock through your folds, pressing against your clit with every pass. You drop your forehead to the countertop with a whine, letting the cool temperature soothe your heated skin. 

Aaron doesn’t quit rutting against your wetness, only just teasing your entrance before sliding up to your clit again. From experience, you know he could theoretically do this for hours, waiting for you to get desperate, squirmy, and whiney.

It’s working. You wiggle back against him, but his hands cover yours with a smack as he shushes you, his hips pressing yours flush against the edge of the counter. You’re sure the granite against you would hurt if it wasn’t so hot. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, low and soft in your ear. 

You swallow as his lips wander over your neck and shoulder. “I want you.” 

He hums in understanding, sucking bruises along the line of your shoulder blade. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Your answer is breathless, and you shove your fingers between his from underneath, holding on as best you can. 

“Do you know how good you look in my shirt and nothing else?”

You nod. 

“Do you know what it does to me when you look like that? My wife in my clothes?”

You don’t answer, knowing it’ll only pay off for you. He lets go of your hands and grips your hips, yanking you back toward him. It’s only an inch or so, but you can feel his cock pressed against you, the cold metal buttons against your ass, the coarse feeling of his jeans against the skin of your thighs. 

“Do you want me to show you what it does to me? What you do to me?” 

You swallow and nod, pressing your chest into the counter, bracing yourself. “Yes.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, plenty slick with your arousal - you’re practically dripping, soaking your thighs and the apex of your legs. 

Aaron slams into your heat, all the way to your cervix, with a searing kiss pressed to the middle of your back to smother his groan. You cry out from deep in your chest, drawing it out as he pulls back, dragging against your walls before filling you again, his hips audibly making contact with your ass. 

It’s rare you get a chance like this. Even at night, with the kids’ rooms upstairs, you have to be relatively quiet. Aaron, when he really lets go, can get loud, and so can you, with his encouragement. So, needless to say, your opportunities are few and far between. 

A steady stream of curses leave him through gritted teeth, watching his own hands pull you onto and push you off of his cock, bottoming out every time. 

You’re not even sure what noises you’re making, but there are a lot of them. You unstick your palms from the granite, reaching around to press your fingertips into the part of Aaron’s hip you can find. 

He leaves you then, falling out of your reach as he pulls out and turns you around again. 

Suddenly, you’re over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

How does he do that?

The smell of his body wash from his morning shower lingers in the air as he brings you into the bedroom, dropping to his knees on the soft rug in front of the lit fireplace. 

He supports your shoulders as he tips you backwards, sealing your lips in a searing kiss. Your hands are in his hair, more for the feeling of it than for support. 

The plush rug is warm from the fire, a stark contrast to the cool kitchen island. His weight on top of you seems to sink right into your bones, a feeling of safety and love soaking into your skin. 

Much to your chagrin, he’s still fully clothed, his pants loose around his hips and his shirt hiked up to his ribs. You find the hem and separate yourself from his mouth only long enough to yank it over his head and throw it toward the bed. 

He laughs into his next kisses, but it turns into a sigh as your hands run over his sides, pressing firmly into his waist, before dragging up his back and back into his hair. 

“Are you gonna let me go?” He asks against your mouth. 

You shake your head. “Don’t wanna.” 

He laughs, tipping your head back and peppering kisses to your jaw and neck. “Fine.” 

His kisses meander down, nosing a path past the collar and buttons of his shirt on his way to your chest. He pauses at your breasts, drawing patterns with his tongue until you’re taut and puckered under his touch. 

His hands follow his mouth, unbuttoning the two buttons you’d done up to play at modesty, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. He reaches your hips and scoops your legs onto his shoulders, kissing a path down the creases of your thighs. 

When he finally wraps his lips around your clit, your hips buck into him. He laughs, sending a buzz up your spine, and locks your hips in his hands, holding you securely to his mouth. 

You resist the urge to bring your hand to your face, letting your whimpers and groans leave you at full volume. One hand finds a home in his hair while the other claws at the carpet. He could probably eat you out in his sleep at this point, what with the way he knows the pace, the pattern, the pressure you like. He’s consistent but never boring, always managing to lull you into a dull hum of pleasure, your legs shaking under his hands, before pulling something that makes you jump and whine. 

His warm breath fans across your lower belly, keeping him centered as he flicks his tongue against your clit, dipping lower to your entrance, sliding back. He sucks your inner lips into his mouth, letting them go with obscene, wet pop before pulling your clit back into his mouth, feasting on you like a man starved. 

You clench around nothing, desperate for him to fill you with anything, anything to ease the want that courses through you. There might be a moment when you ask for something, but you’re not entirely sure. 

He chuckles, a dark and smug sound, but only continues until your center starts to throb, shocking your body with pleasure all the way to your fingertips. Aaron can feel it too, running his hand up your abdomen, reminding you to relax. 

You take the note, slowing your breath and relaxing into the floor. Your grip in Aaron’s hair doesn’t budge, tight and close to the root. 

He’s determined to get you off with his mouth alone, his fingers digging deeper into your hips to keep himself on track. 

The pulse of your walls continues until the tension crawls into the rest of your body. Your shoulders pull away from the rug as your body curls forward, your hips stuttering even under Aaron’s firm grip. Both of your hands wind into his hair and you fall over the edge, chanting his name. 

Your upper body twists, your cheek against the plush carpet as you convulse under his continuing ministrations. Your hips are still locked to the floor under his hands, braced by his shoulders and held by his mouth. You can feel his smile as he rides it out with you, backing off on the pressure as pleasure rolls through you in violent, overwhelming waves. 

Your jaw seems to be stuck open, your eyes wide as you stare into nothing. Aaron slows, the strokes of his tongue long and drawn-out against the length of your sex, before stopping entirely, pressing a kiss right above your clit. 

He crawls up your body, keeping some of his weight on you as he finds your lips again. You’re still boneless, catching your breath, shaking, and experiencing little shockwaves that irregularly catch your abs.

With that in mind, you can hardly kiss him back - instead, passively letting him smother you in affection, vaguely processing the fact you can taste yourself on his tongue. You wrap your ankles around his lower back, and he finally sheds his jeans and boxer briefs. 

“You good?” He asks. 

You nod. “Mhmm.” You reach between your bodies and stroke him a couple of times. “Gimme.” 

He laughs out loud then, kissing you soundly as he slides home. 

You whimper into his mouth, your overheated flesh alive with sensation as he rocks into you, nearly frictionless. He holds you tight, his hand splayed across your shoulders underneath the shirt you’re still (somehow) wearing. 

You let your mind wander a little, combing through Aaron’s hair with your fingers and tucking your face into his neck. 

It’s been ten years with him, almost exactly. You’re a far cry from the person you were then, and you think maybe Aaron is a different man, too. 

Not where it counts though. He’ll always be that chronically-stressed, endlessly-dedicated tightass who thinks too much and speaks too little. If anyone asked, he’s still the smartest, warmest man you know. Privately, you know he’s also the dumbest invulnerable moron who ever drew breath. 

That makes you laugh, and you wrap your arms further around him. He doesn’t stop, but cranes his neck to look at you. 

“What?”

You shake your head, bringing your hands to the sides of his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Just thinking about you.”

He laughs a little breathlessly, his head tilting sardonically to the side as he snaps his hips to yours, making you jump and clench around him. “I’d hope so.”

Flipping onto his back, he pulls you on top of him and has the audacity to wink at you. 

The pair of you giggle and laugh your way to your destination. His laughing smothers his curses as he cums, fucking up into you and holding you flush to him by the hips. You follow him by scant seconds, bracing yourself on his chest as you drag out your orgasm, enjoying the rush and the laughter and just being together. 

When you both completely run out of steam, you lift yourself off of him and tip sideways, landing flat on your back out on the rug. 

This poor thing has seen more use today than in its entire lifetime. 

You roll over after a second, propping your head on your elbow. Aaron mirrors you, meeting your eyes. 

“That was fun,” he says. 

You nod, bringing your hand to the graying hair at his temple. “Don’t get too many chances for this kind of fun anymore, huh?”

He sighs and pulls your hand from his hair, kissing your palm and folding your hand in his. “No, we don’t, but it’s…” He thinks for a moment. “It’s nice to appreciate it more than we used to.”

“Yeah.”

+++

You twist back and forth on the barstool, watching Aaron slice an apple and some strawberries. You both did away with the lunch idea, deciding it was too much work to put something together. 

It feels awfully like your first weekend together, the only differences are in the scenery. Even the wardrobe is similar. You’re in the shirt he started in, not much else, and he’s in his jeans, shirtless and barefoot. 

It’s nice to see him wandering around with a kind of carelessness. You’re not sure any of the little ones have seen him without a shirt, not for any real length of time that they would remember. He told you once that he doesn’t want to scare them. 

You reminded him that this is their normal, too. They’ve never known him without the scars so they’ll always know him with them. The little ones don’t know to be scared. 

Still, he’s careful. 

It’s a work in progress. 

“What were you thinking about before?” He asks, rounding the island. He goes to lean on it, but hesitates. “We have to wipe down the counter.”

You snort and take the plate from him, headed for the living room. “It’s been ten years and you’ve never changed.”

He rolls his eyes and follows you, sitting down in his chair so you can sit in his lap, the plate of fruit on the coffee table. “Is predictable so bad?”

“No,” you reply, your eyebrows raised. “I was just answering your question.”

He huffs a laugh down his nose. “You haven’t changed, either, for the record.”

“Is that a good thing?”

With a smile, he pulls you gently by the side of the head, tucking you under his chin. “It’s a very good thing.” Then, almost inaudibly -

“A great thing.”

+++

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