#she is warm enough and her heartbeat is strong enough to make up for many kinds of absence

[intern-ko]

Ko growls, chewing on her finger. Pacing. Now’s not the time. She should be fine for a while longer. This is hardly…

She hasn’t slept enough to stave it off. Not properly. Shit.

Still chewing on her fingers, she shoots Echo a text: “heading out; won’t respond for a bit”. It’s a good thing she gave xem a phone recently?

And then she’s gone. She has her Bag. She has everything she might need. But now she’s following her nose; her ears. A crowded area is dangerous. She needs it, right now. She knows a town. It’s the one she was going to terrorize with Echo. Not many live there; less than a thousand. It’s only a handful of families.

They range from old to young. To those that are on death’s bed, from those that are just leaving the womb. It doesn’t matter to her. Two to 82; they’re all the same for her. They’re just food, right now. Cattle. Something to kill; to eat.

There’s a reason they call her a monster.

The wet grass brushes against her feet, clinging to her flesh. She didn’t bring shoes. Something that would be stupid, if she cared. Too hungry right now. Spent too much time outside in the past, too.

A cough. “I’ll be right back,” they say. No they won’t. Not if she gets a say. It’s easy to make it look like an animal. She’s done it before.

Animalistic eyes gleam at the human, shining in the low lighting. The leaves hide her; covering her. She lunges. They don’t get a chance to scream. Her veins burn; her mouth is full of red liquid, still warm with life.

They’re gone. She’s still hungry. They’re empty — drained. She’s still hungry.

Her pupils slit, a smile warping on her face. She giggles, mainly to herself. Oh, how fun the kill is! She nearly forgot.

She’s still hungry.

She needs more.

Ko’s vision goes black.

The hunt has begun.

———

The vampire hops out from the bushes, tearing into her victims. Their previous prey’s friends. She’s still smiling. Her pupils are still slitted; eyes animalistic. Monstrous.

They were alone. They didn’t get to scream. Even if they did; who would hear? Who would care?

The monster eyes the cell towers. Even like this, she’s smart. As cunning as she needs to be. What fun is a hunt, if her prey call for help? If she has to run before she can enjoy it?

The towers are destroyed. They were never hidden, anyways. Then the power lines are cut. Good. That should give her some time.

She skips into town, lips smudged with red. A red that matches her hair. Her pop of color. She’s wearing a silver dress, flowing down to her knees. Graceful. Ghostly. Angelic.

What is a demon, after all, if not an angel?

There’s a reason death is considered an angel.

It’s beautiful. It’s deadly. It’s fear. It’s the last thing you’ll see, before it all ends.

And it’s delicious.

“Peek-a-boo~!” The monster croons. Letting the hiding villagers run. Letting them scream. Letting them panic.

She can hear their breaths. She can hear each heartbeat.

She loves it.

Each of them are hunted down. The strong are picked off, first. Babies are crying. The weak are forced to hide.

A knock sends one of them running. Tripping in the grass. Ko grins, standing over them. Her fangs latch on, taking gulps of their life away. Leaving them cold, and her warm.

One by one, the others are picked off in similar ways. A few try to stab her. A few hail her as an angel, coming to cleanse them of sins. A few think of her as a demon, coming to punish them. But no. She’s just hungry. The monster cares not for their thoughts; only for its hunger.

Then those that can move. The ones that are weak, but desperate, go. She can hear them, too, picking them out. The babies are still crying.

The dead lay in the streets. Pale, bloodless, with twin marks on their neck. The babies are no longer crying. How could they, when they��ve joined the others?

———

Ko wakes up to the bodies. To the silence. That wasn’t… meant to happen. Not to this amount.

Her veins burn.

She feels good.

She hates it.

A hand goes up to her lips. She rubs her face off. Red smears, leaking from her lips to her hand. Her tongue darts out, tasting her skin.

Blood. That’s blood, alright. A mix of flavors. It’s quiet. No breathes, no heartbeats.

So many dead. So easily.

So many lives destroyed — by her hand, nonetheless.

It shouldn’t be that easy, should it?

And yet it was. It was too easy to slip into the role of the monster. Too easy to hop into the shoes of the child. To act.

Who is she, anymore? Which one?

The monster. That’s what she has to be. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A wolf wearing Little Red’s skin, luring others in.

Oh well. No use dwelling on it.

…

Echo doesn’t think she’s evil enough. Well… there’s plenty to take. No reason to clean so soon.

She shoots xem another text. Her location. Do xey want to steal some things? That’s the question she sends. The only thing she needs to.

[hauntedfalcon]

("make the au more fucked up, I dare you" you say? well, who am I but to oblige)

marion hid the scar from his father for an entire year. a physical mark can be covered up, but how do you hide the absence of a daemon? a little kid wandering around, a dead canary clutched in his hands, and suddenly there's no more birdsong following him about. he has to hide her, because even if she's not moving she's gotta be alive, because he's alive, and he knows with a seven-year-old's certainty that if the adults notice then they might get rid of her. he finds an empty matchbox for when she's a butterfly and tries to keep her in his biggest most comfortable shirt pocket when she's a bird and he tells the finnerty boys - all three of them, with their shepherd dog souls nipping at their heels - that they've made a game of seeing how long she can stay hidden for, or that she's asleep in his pocket, or that she's right over there but she's pretty small so maybe you just can't see her, and ignores the sensation, the creeping dread, that something vital inside him is rotted. (sean finds out, and so do his brothers, and he swears them all to secrecy. in the end, it's his own slip-up that gets him caught.)

jinnah watches her father cut the boy away from the dead bird, and tries to remember the feeling of insect's legs walking along the back of her hand. he kicks and screams in all the ways she didn't, watching it turn from avian to insect to avian to nothing but dust, and she wonders - only for a moment - if the empty hole in her would have finally settled into a beetle, or a spider, or a maybe even a snake, like the great python winding about her father's neck.

okay all right okay you know what

I was just thinking about how maybe in this universe, maybe the first time Sean understands that a soul isn't the same thing as a conscience

isn't necessarily all the times that his Saoirse doesn't keep him from getting into trouble, what kind of daemon would she have been if she stopped him from doing stupid stuff

but maybe it's the time that he looks up after finishing that mission for Dr. Nero, and sees Saoirse returning to him with the remnants of blue and gold Dust on her jaws, already fading away to nothing

[bloodrelationsofheavenandearth]

but i want it (sweet as cherry wine)

˗ˋˏ ✰ ˎˊ˗ desc; how does it feel to hold a hand, one that fits as if it were meant to do so with your own?

˗ˋˏ ✰ ˎˊ˗ pairing; himeko : firefly : gepard : jing yuan : feixiao : argenti : aventurine : sunday : mydei : aglaea ➜ x gn!reader

˗ˋˏ ✰ ˎˊ˗ mlist; !!!!! // pt 2; !!!!!

himeko is the needle on your compass, the northern star in the sky and holds you steady- your anchor to warmth, your hearth and your home. the times that you manage to hold them, her hands are warm to the touch, usually second-hand from the coffee she always seems to have on hand; she always smells like coffee, too, rich and a little bit fruity. it lingers on her skin like ichor, soft and warm like the feeling of home- she is home, always. when she holds your hand she is caking you home, cradling one or both between her own, keeping your warmth entwined with hers because that’s just how it is. how it will stay.

firefly’s hands are familiar- not because they’re the same hands that cradle you often, but familiar in the way that makes your soul settle, stretched out lazily like a house cat under your skin. to hold her hand is to return to yourself, it is to envy the way the sky wraps itself around the sun and the moon and envy for that same closeness. it is the familiarity of matter, of what you are and will be coalescing, a bone deep ache that is soothed.

now, if you’d like to hold his hand- you’ve got to get gepard out of his gloves, first. whilst they keep his hands- big, strong, calloused hands- warm and safe during the day, they’re unfortunately not made with the idea of far sweeter things in mind. time and duty permitting, he’ll shuck them off like they burn him as soon as you, so dear to him, come into his view. holding his hand is to be encompassed, to feel the graze of his thumb over your knuckles and hand it brought up to his mouth; his cheeks are red, from the cold and you, always you. he needs, desperately, to be gentle enough, to covey all that he can’t when he is off doing his duty. you, the balm to the frigid cold.

jing yuan is a man of many people’s fascinations- yet, how amusing to you, that he seems so fascinated by simply holding your hands. ever the charmer, kissing your wrists and knuckles and palms and whispering into your skin- he is quiet afterwards, plays with your fingers and traces manicured nails over your skin. his hand, holding yours, is an endless stretch of time condensed into seconds; fleeting and effervescent, timeless and unshakeable. the press of the pads of his fingers mimic his devotion that sweetens on your tongue like honey, the weight of his palms against yours like the thudding weight of another heartbeat, intertwined together with yours. thumpthump. thump. thumpthump. thump.

perhaps, feixiao has a tendency to be a little rough around the edges- only sometimes. her hands reflect her well, especially so when you can snag them within your own; her anxiety, her anger, her mirth, her exhaustion. you alone cradle her in your hands, the cyclonic emotion that pours out of her like waves lapping at the shore. you stand, with her, cradling each other, in the eye of the storm. she is a cyclone, a constant ebb and flow that gives and takes and shelters you within herself. often, this is the case when she squeezes your hands- strength and love and loyalty and shelter.

perhaps one thing to note, is that argenti is usually never not holding your hand. or linking pinkies. or offering you his arm to hold. or somehow, in someway, near enough to feel him pressing some piece of himself to some part of you. he’s sweet, bottled sunshine that spills out of his body and burns itself into your being with its light- holding his hand is like holding the sun. holding it, cupped between your hands, reflecting its brilliance into your skin and shining its light through your body; it bounces off of your ribs and bursts out of your eyes, buries itself into your lungs and lodges so deeply it will never return completely to the sky. holding his hand is mundane, domestic, and an everyday occurrence; yet his brilliance will always be a live wire, buried in your chest and tethering you close.

holding hands with aventurine is always going to be just a little bit different each time- not because he pulls some kind of trick or because he’s unpredictable or anything of the sort. he, quite simply, just hasn’t yet found a completely sound way to honour the feeling of your hand in his. he draws from within himself to count his own luck, tracing over a freckle on the inside of your wrist. the stars bursting behind his eyelids grow ever in number when he finds a new pattern to trace over your fingers, a new way to touch the skin over your knuckles and configure a mind map every time. this, this feeling is something not even he will gamble

ever one for order, sunday is as expected, meticulous in the care he ensures in such a simple act. it is an act that is cyclical, a routine cultivated between the two of you out of careful consideration for the other; a tentative melody when your fingers brush, quickly meeting a crescendo when palms greedily press together to seek assurance. it is harmonious, yet there is a quiet strength- comforting in its presence, always known to be and never, ever taken for granted.

mydei who is ever the warrior, ever the one to weather the storm has hands like one would expect; there lay thin scars from youth, split knuckles and well worn callouses over his hands that speak of his character. these are hands that know violence. these are hands that are hard and strong and unwavering. and yet.. to hold his hand is to cradle his hardness, it is to bolster his strength like kindling to a fire or gasoline and a match. it is to let him pull you into his ribcage and make a home for you of his own skeleton, it is to be his blood and muscle and his heart. because what is a warrior without a worthy cause, a worthy reason to be strong?

to be graced by aglaea, to merely gaze upon her visage is already a beauty to be consumed of- to get closer, to feel the softness of her hands and the croon of her voice is an implosion. often, holding her hands leads to conversations that leave you levitating- knowledge shared between two lovers, whispers on the wind and sweet as morning dew. sometimes the knowledge is monotonous, or spellbinding or even a tad ridiculous; yet it always sears itself into your skin, embeds like hooks and has you strung up like a puppet on strings. to hold her hand is to languish in her beauty, in her passion and her drive you simply be who she is.

notes; sigh.. i got back into hsr again (i want mydei & anaxa & thank GOD i have a guaranteed character) and i wanted to post something! idk if half of these are coherent or for any of the characters fully, but like, it’s something :’) i took inspo from this i did for ff16 a while ago^ i can do more characters if they’re wanted in terms of hsr, just let me know!

© bloodrelationsofheavenandearth 2025 ☁︎

[rekino2114]

Chainsaw Man Cuddling Headcannons with a Male Reader!

Essentially the CSM Girls (mainly Makima, Himeno, Kobeni, Power, and whoever else you want-) and your headcannons for what they’re like when they’re cuddling. Are they big spoon? or lil spoon? Do they kick? Or are they still? Are they warm bodied? Or cold bodied? Do their hands wander? Or do they keep their hands to themselves?

Cuddling headcanons with chainsaw man girls

A/n:I actually really appreciate you putting the pictures/gifs in the requests it does mean a lot

Makima

There's nothing that you and makima love more after a day of work than cuddling on the bed together. She just adores to feel you relax in her arms, just as much as you love relaxing with her.

She's definitely the big spoon. She just loves seeing you so comfy and happy in her arms,

She's somehow always the right temperature for cuddling, she's very warm in winter and just cold enough in summer. You don't know if it's because she's a devil or if it's because she just wants you to feel comfortable so much her body just does that, but it's really nice

She likes to kiss your face, play with your hair, and whisper to you as you're cuddling, and it never fails to make you fall asleep soon. Everything about her is just so comfortable and cozy.

Power

Power is very affectionate, so she demands cuddles very often. Basically, every time she sees you, she hugs you and brings you to the closest bed,couch to cuddles

Her position depends on how she feels, she doesn't mind being the big or little spoon so she kinda lets you decide or sees in the moment

She's pretty warm most of the time so you don't really need blankets, but she really likes how soft they are so she still hogs them all to herself

She likes to bite you while you cuddle, on the neck especially, but will stop if you ask her nicely and pet her head. She also brings meowy to cuddle with you since he's really soft too

Himeno

Himeno is also very affectionate, and she also very much loves cuddles. She basically can't go on a day without cuddling you and struggles to fall asleep without you near her.

She also doesn't mind the position, she just asks you if you wanna be the big or little spoon in that moment and adapts accordingly

She's pretty cold(maybe because of the ghost devil) so she just wraps both of you in so many blankets until you're almost sweating

She loves to kiss yo everywhere while you cuddle, your face especially, you'll just wake up with a lot of kiss marks on you after a cuddle session

Kobeni higashiyama

While kobeni doesn't really ask for cuddles that often and she blushes a lot while you're holding her, it's just because she's embarrassed. She actually would love nothing more than to cuddle with you after a hard day

She's the little spoon all the way. She just wants you to hold her and protect her from everything. She looks adorable like that, so you don't mind cuddling like that at all

Her body temperature is average, maybe on the colder side but that doesn't bother either of you

Cuddling with you is one of the rare moments where she can rant to someone about how awful everything is, like how terrible her day went. The fact that you just listen and let her rant to you makes her fall in love with you even more

Quanxi

Whenever quanxi sees you're stressed, she just silently wraps her arms around you and brings you to the bed to cuddle and if you ask her for cuddles expect her to do the same

She's 100% the big spoon, not only is she really strong and loves hugging you tightly she's also very protective and just wants to see you safe in her arms

She's pretty cold in general and if you bring that up to her she'll bring a blanket. She's also pretty silent during cuddles, preferring to just let her heartbeat lull you to sleep

Sometimes the rest of your girlfriends find you cuddling and just jump on you to making a giant but comfy cuddle puddle.

Asa mitaka

This girl is so stressed and anxious. She needs a lot of cuddles, and luckily, she has a boyfriend there to give her however many cuddles she needs

She's the little spoon every single time. She needs comfort and someone to hold on to in her life, and now that she has you, she just loves feeling the warm comfort of your arms

She's a mix of kobeni and quanxi in the way that depending on how she feels she'll either rant to you about how school went or just stay silent and enjoy the warmth and comfort

Cuddling with you is one of the few moments yoru can't bother asa (which she gets pretty angry about) no matter how much the voice in her head talks she just focuses on you and ignores her

Yoru

She might not really know the concept of cuddling itself, but she knows being near you makes her feel nice, so when she feels like it, she just takes control of asa's body and drags you to the couch to cuddle

She would like to be the big spoon but asa's body is a bit too small for it. So she tries her best to wrap her arms around you, she often ends up being the little spoon while pouting though

Asa's body is pretty cold and yoru will complain about that a lot (much to Asa's annoyance) but a blanket can fix the situation

Like power she likes biting you and leaving hickeys on you while you cuddle (asa apologizes later but you tell her you don't mind)

Fami

Fami didn't know what cuddles were before getting with you, but now she really loves them, she kinda waits for you to suggest to cuddle and immediately drops everything she's doing (except food) to cuddle

She's the big spoon. She's really tall and also just really likes hugging you. You don't even need to say anything. The moment you mention cuddles, she instantly wraps her arms around you.

She likes kissing you while you cuddle, straight up mouth kisses with tongue just because she really loves feeling your lips. If you tell her to stop she definitely will though

To nobody's surprise, she eats during cuddle time, too. She usually brings snacks and munches on them while cuddling, which leaves crumbs all around your bed, but you know she loves food a lot, so you just tell her to clean up after and let her eat

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Hi love! Could you please write something about Rowan as a girl dad?

Breathe life into me

Rowan took great pride in being a father. A dream that seemed unreachable for so many decades. To the point where he had told himself that it was impossible. It would never happen and dreaming of it would only make him suffer more. But now more than ever he was so glad that he didn’t kill that hope. That he let in kindle deep within his heart. Even more so Rowan was so proud of being a girl dad. While many males made their life’s goal to grow sons. He couldn’t imagine his life without his little girls. The happy squalls making him long to get back home after a long day.

“Daddy, daddy”, the voice of his youngest Rony filled the fields as he flew back home. “that’s daddy up there”, with her tiny finger pointing up to the sky she ran as fast as she could in hopes of matching her sister. “Dad”, Sloan his oldest waved up at him, laughing as Rowan let out a shrill chwirk. Turning circle after circle over the roof of his house.

He wasn’t one for theatrics, you often told him he was getting too old for that, but he enjoyed the big eyes that watched him as he shifted midair landing on the rooftop, and sliding down the tiles. The happy and amazed shrieks made his heart so warm. With both of his hands outstretched Rowan lands smoothly, wrapping both of the girls in his arms before tossing them up on his shoulder. “Daddy”, Rony chuckled, her tiny palms pressing onto his forehead as he spins them both around. “How are my two beautiful girls doing today?”, Rowan muses letting them slide down his arms before kneeling in front of them. “We helped mommy loads”, Rony mutters, moving to snuggle back into her father’s embrace. “Yeah, we planted flowers and made bread”, Sloan nods along, pushing her white loose curls away from her face. “Kept mommy off her feet?”, Rowan questions, referring to the deal he had with his daughters. “We tried”, his eldest shrugs, “Mommy stubborn like Uncle Lor”, Rony chuckles, clasping a hand over her mouth. Rowan lets a laugh ripple through his chest, “You’re not wrong there, my little cloud”, he cups both of their rosy cheeks before ruffling their hair, “Come on now, let’s find mommy”. Both of the girls quickly slips their hands into his, pulling him towards the house.

His shoulders instantly relaxed once the familiar smell of home fill his body. Rowan had built it all for you. Tending to any and every wish you had. Creating that perfect place for you to nurture. And nurture you did. The girls take off running once inside, leaving Rowan to chase after them. And then here you are humming lightly as you butter toast for pre dinner snack.

“My love”, Rowan muses and it’s enough to make you turn to him. “You’re home early, I was wondering what all the noise was about”, you beam up at him. Rowan reaches for you in a heartbeat. “Hi”, he breathes into your hair, swaying slightly. “Hey”, you lean back to smile at him. “How are you feeling?”, he softly brushes his fingers through your hair. “Officially can’t see my feet”, you chuckle running a hand over the swell of your stomach.

“Hey, little bug”, Rowan lets his hand run over your bump as well, “Been good to mummy?”, his question is met with a strong kick. “Daddy, try the bread”, Rony pulls at his tunic practically climbing his leg. “Give daddy a chance to wash his hands”, you cut in, “Get his plate ready, girls, he had a long day”, and they don’t need to be told twice as they rush to push the chairs together so they can make his plate. “I love you”, Rowan leans in nuzzling his nose against yours, “You breathed life into me”. You smile up at him, before leaning in as much as your round stomach lets you to kiss him.

[supercoolgrandpa]

Eyes On Fire (maxiel, 2.3k, explicit) AO3

5+1 times Max watches Daniel fuck someone else (+ the one time he doesn’t)

was supposed to be smut but it turned into angst, such is life… enjoy!

(p.s. I’ve never posted fanfic in my life so please be gentle hehe)

———————-

This time it really was an accident. Danny didn’t push the cabin door shut hard enough, too distracted kissing the woman untying the strings of her sequined top, pulling her inside and towards the bed. She navigates her suit down to the plush carpet and grins at him, a flash of white teeth in a sea of brown skin and dark silk sheets. Dan leans back against the headboard as she climbs in his lap, kissing his neck and rubbing her hands down his sun warmed abs. Below her heavy breathing and the muffled sounds of the party he can hear a set of footsteps coming closer down the hallway, pausing, before the heavy wood door is being pushed shut (properly this time). Daniel just catches a glimpse of the back of Max’s strong neck, flushed red and blotchy, before it disappears into the bathroom with a quiet click of the door.

Something mean and possessive pulls low in his stomach when he hears the sound of the shower starting through the wall. He turns his attention back to the tan beautiful woman squirming in his lap, kissing her breasts, the stiff peaks of her nipples held between his teeth. Despite the pit in the bottom of his stomach he can feel his dick start to fill in his swim shorts. The sound of the shower seems so loud it feels like it’s magnifying the sound of his blood loudly rushing around his ears. She arches up out of his lap when he grinds up against her cunt. His mouth feels dry as he pulls the condom from his discarded shorts and slips it on effortlessly. The heartbeat in his ears was deafening, the urge to do something stupid that might hurt him later even louder. He starts fucking her on autopilot, sloppier than he normally would, under circumstances where his heart isn’t in his throat and he isn’t straining to hear what’s happening on the other side of the wall and he hasn’t had three too many drinks at another stupid party on his stupid megayacht to compensate for the undeniable feelings of loss and confusion and want. He falls into a rhythm that feels survivable, overcome with something visceral and toxic. He can’t stop the sunshine flashes of images in his brain; the back of Max’s scarlet neck, the red tips of his sunburned ears, the mole above the line of hair leading into his swim trunks. His lisping accent getting heavier in his stories after his second sweating gin tonic, condensation pooling on his tight pale stomach, glimmering in the sun. Danny imagined himself licking it up.

She is making too much noise, real moans now instead of the fake breathy ones. Some dark part of him he doesn’t want to look at too closely is extremely satisfied that the bed is rattling against the wall a bit, despite the expensive nature of everything on his fucking boat. He hears a thump on the wall of the shower next door, and like a switch going off, he loses it into the condom unexpectedly, feeling like his brain is getting pulled out of his head. As soon as he catches his breath he rolls over and is overcome with feeling like he might cry for some reason. He hasn’t felt like crying after sex in like a decade and that freaks him out more than the actual tears, the unraveling of the carefully crafted armor of his upbeat persona, like pulling the string of an old lovable sweater. He turns back over towards her without looking, his eyes low, murmuring in her ear about ‘a free bathroom upstairs if she needs’ before sliding out of the bed and into the adjoining and currently occupied bathroom, locking the door behind him.

The bathroom is light, shiny wood and glass everywhere, the last of the sunset just starting to turn purple through the sky light. The low sunlight is coloring everything golden through the steam, filling his lungs with lead. He can’t quite bring himself to even glance at the glass shower across the room, entering the water closet and sitting heavily on the closed toilet, rubbing his face with his hands. His legs bounce with thought as the liquor feels like it’s seeping out of his body, a headache creeping back in. He can’t sit still and let the bad feelings overtake him, the hum in his chest still buzzing with the proximity to Max and the relentless sounds of the shower going. He leaps up, flipping the toilet lid open and peeing quickly, box breathing before stepping back out into the warm bathroom. He carefully washes his hands and even brushes his teeth with the individually packaged toiletries next to the sink, convincing himself he is not killing time in avoidance of the man this boat belongs to. Max is facing away from him under the spray, through the fogged up glass and steam. The muscles of his back are the first thing Danny sees as he opens the door quietly but not secretly, wanting to make himself known just in case this was the (second) biggest mistake of his life and he had read every single thing that’s happened in the decade of knowing each other so incredibly wrong. He releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding as Max stiffens, throwing him a look over his shoulder, one arm leaning against the tiled wall under the spray. Dan is frozen in place, two breaths away from bolting before Max speaks.

“That was quick.” He says so quietly Danny almost misses it, cajoled into stepping close enough to smell the shampoo lingering in his hair. Tea tree. Dan laughs, he can’t help it, and Max whips around unexpectedly, something angry flashing across his face before he lets his mouth drop back into the smile he usually saves for when people annoy him. Danny knows it well.

“She must have been good.” Max almost sounds completely unaffected but his voice cracks at the end and he turns away from him, rinsing his face under the water. His wedding ring flashes under the stream like finding gold in a rushing river. Danny feels this insane throb that he couldn’t prove to anyone shoot down his own ringless finger, just for a second, mirroring the phantom ache in his chest.

He rolls his eyes before he can help it, his own smile turning mean, stepping closer until the spray is hitting the side of his face. Max leans away from him, his back against the tiles, wet hair hanging down in his face and his usually bright eyes soft and serious, almost sad when Dan looks long enough for the moment to get heavy between them again. Water runs down his pretty nose and falls off his plush lips, both of them breathing heavier the closer they are pulled together. The sound of the shower falls silent somehow. Max’s eyes almost look closed but there is a sliver of blue peeking out, watching him carefully. He feels the magnet between them, tilting his head sideways so he can lean his forehead on the tile next to Max’s head, bodies pressed together in what turns into a hug. Max’s arms come up to wrap around him, wet and warm and tight, and something inside Dan’s chest settles back into place, his mouth pressed into the junction of his strong shoulder and neck. If he felt like crying before he really feels like it now, doubled, tripled, the heavy feeling of Max’s marble blue eyes splitting him down the middle, amplified by the taste of his skin when he can’t help but open his mouth across his neck, just for a second. Max sighs and his arms slide under his ribs, holding him even tighter, his hand coming up to pet the back of Dan’s head like he’s trying not to scare off a frightened animal.

He can’t help but laugh into his slightly sunburned shoulder with the ridiculousness of the situation, eyes filling with tears that have probably been coming since he got the invite to the party in the first place. Things with Max were bruised and tender, already complicated without Dan being a drunk mess and fucking some girl in his nice cabin, ruining his beautiful yacht party, smearing his perfect freckled shoulder with his snot and tears all over nothing. He tries to rip away, make a joke to make this swallow easier, call a smaller boat to take him away from this big one and away from his big feelings. Dan was suddenly dying to get back to shore and stop embarrassing himself.

“I’m not-“ he tries, as Max loosens his grip just enough to pull his head back to look at him, blue eyes darting around Danny’s face, stuttering over his lips twice before meeting his own brown eyes again. Max seems to decide something in that moment, nodding, reaching over to pump body wash into his hands.

“You’re not what?” Max says, just as quiet as before, reaching over to soap his arms and down his torso, lathering him carefully and methodically, nearly massaging him under the warm waterfall spray.

“Good..” he whispers, voice thick, the back of his head hitting the tile behind him. His eyes feel heavy, the muscular line of his throat exposed to Max, helpless under warm water and even warmer hands and eyes that are burning him alive. He hopes Max understands what he is trying to say. The urge to close his eyes is only beaten by the electricity of Max watching him, breath catching in his throat when Max kneels down, washing his stomach with the kind of focus that he usually only sees when they’re at work together. Fondness and nostalgia overcome him as he reaches out to push Max’s hair away from his forehead, stroking the tips of his fingers down his scalp in methodical rows, mirroring the movements of Max’s hands carefully washing his legs and feet.

He pulls Max up gently by his biceps, fumbling for the body wash without looking, suddenly desperate to return the favor of being touched more gently than he maybe ever has been by another human. Let alone touched by Max. He lathers the soap down his muscular arms, his soft chest, to his thighs, avoiding looking at his dick by turning him around, making small soapy circles on his lower back and ribs, Max’s head tucked under his chin. He reaches up to massage the muscles in his back when his own dick starts to pique with interest for the first time since the drunk girl was whispering in his ear, Max’s blue eyes piercing him from across the party, lip pulled into his mouth but face remaining indecipherable until she pulled him down the hallway and their eye contact broke.

He suddenly feels like a sleazeball, a little nauesous, thinking about fucking her and Max hearing. Max wanting to hear. He pushes Max’s hips away so they aren’t pressed together anymore, not wanting to ruin yet another moment with him that he won’t get back. His hands follow the soap trickling down his ribs, taking care to be as gentle and thorough as Max was with him. Dan can’t fuck this up too. Max deserves more than what he could give him. He hadn’t realized his hands were tightening until Max touches his face, eyes the softest he has seen them tonight.

“You are good.” He feels like they aren’t talking about sex anymore, the shiver shooting down his spine can’t really be helped. Max’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear as he whispered, lied, his hands covering his other ear, resting on his jaw. He can’t help but close his eyes. Doesn’t realize he’s shaking his head until Max tightens his grip, shower raining down on them, water running clear like a baptism. Dan loses some time until the sound of the water stops and the door opens, cold air rushing in until Max quickly returns with some towels, prewarmed on the fancy rack he must have. There is a coal burning inside of his chest in the shape of the man draping the warm towel around his shoulders, rubbing him dry and okay again.

Max dries himself off with a small private smile creeping up his face, watching Dan in the mirror before turning away, letting himself be watched. Dan allows himself to indulge in watching the fine golden hair on his legs dry, the muscles of his back flexing when he bends down to dry his feet. Max has moles scattering around his pale back, his ass sitting perfectly above the muscle of his thighs. Danny genuinely can’t stand another second without wanting to jump off the deck, slipping out of the warm room into the dark, ripping the dirty sheet off the bed and desperately searching for another. He finds new blankets near the windows, pushing open the curtains as he goes. It’s fully dark outside now, moon hanging over the curve of the bay. Danny has just managed to wrestle the new bedding onto the bed before Max clicks the light off in the bathroom, leaving them in the moonlight streaming in from the glass, both naked, both staring. He wants to close his eyes again.

Dan feels like his heart is outside of his body, standing across the room, waiting to see what happens next. He can’t stand to fuck up again today. He turns to crawl under the plush covers, pulling the other side of the blankets open, hoping. He can’t open his eyes out of fear of an empty room but he stretches his arms out, begging, wanting, the longer the seconds stretch out the higher the bile is climbing up his chest. When the bed dips down with Max’s precious weight he feels like yelling, crying, kissing him. He settles for reaching out to slowly slip his arm around his warm belly, giving Max the chance to pull away. When he melts further back into Danny’s arms he can’t help but kiss the back of his neck, once.

His hands stutter over the band on Max’s finger in the dark, he can swear it’s warm enough to burn him. He lets out a breath he can’t suck back in and Max doesn’t hesitate to pull the ring off and slide it carefully onto the nightstand. Dan sits up, drinking from the very convenient rich people carafe of what he can only imagine is very nice water. His mind starts to wonder what other lips have touched the glass before he feels a warm soft hand between his ribs.

“Daniel.” Max mumbles, sounding half asleep already, voice rasping. He pulls their bodies together again under the silky comforter and Dan’s throat is thick with emotion suddenly. They never end up talking about what they’ve done to each other to end up here, always acting on impulses and never dealing with the consequences later. It’s always worth it.

“M’sorry. Love you.” Dan finds himself mumbling into the fine hairs on the back of Max’s neck, lips smashed into the skin, partly muffling the most damning part. He feels his ears heat up with shame as Max’s entire body tenses for a held breath, then another, before he exhales and relaxes in his arms. He has no choice but to analyze what it means in the morning, tired brain slipping away, unable to resist his warmth.

[velvetinkbym]

Smoke & Starlight

Caitlyn Kiramman x fem! reader

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

a/n: i always have ideas for chapters but i don’t know how to actually write it down so this took so long but here you go lovely people🪽-mikayla💕

Chapter Four: Playing the part

The moment you step into the bar, you know you don’t belong.

The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and something metallic. The neon signs above the counter flicker in and out, bathing the space in a sickly green light. The floor sticks to your boots with every step, and the heavy bass of whatever song is playing vibrates through your chest.

Zaunites of all kinds fill the room—tough-looking enforcers, shifty-eyed dealers, people who have lived their whole lives in the undercity. The energy is charged, the kind of place where one wrong move could start a fight.

Caitlyn must feel it too because she stiffens at your side, her sharp gaze scanning the room like she’s still on patrol. Her hands twitch at her sides, probably wishing for the rifle she had to leave behind.

Vi notices. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work,” she mutters, giving Caitlyn a once-over. “You might as well wear a sign that says Piltover girl in distress.”

Caitlyn bristles. “I’m being cautious.”

“You’re being obvious,” Vi corrects, a smirk tugging at her lips. “And that’s a problem. People down here aren’t stupid. They see a couple of Pilties looking tense, they start asking questions.”

You shift uncomfortably under the weight of the stares already lingering on you. “So what do you suggest?”

Vi’s grin turns almost too amused. “You two need to act like you belong. And lucky for you, the easiest way to do that?” She gestures between you and Caitlyn. “Be a couple. No one will question two girls getting cozy in a bar.”

Your stomach flips. “Excuse me?”

Caitlyn looks equally horrified. “That’s unnecessary.”

Vi raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, you two look stiff enough to scream outsider.” She shrugs, motioning to a few people glancing your way. “You wanna risk someone getting suspicious? Be my guest.”

You glance around, realizing Vi’s right. There are already too many eyes on you, too many people watching just a little too long. You have no choice.

So you exhale and, before you can overthink it, reach for Caitlyn’s hand.

She stiffens. Her fingers are cold against yours, her grip hesitant at first. But she doesn’t pull away.

Instead, she tilts her chin up and lets you lead her to an empty table near the back. Vi follows but quickly leaves you both alone, going to talk to someone near the bar.

You sit first, pulling Caitlyn down beside you. “Relax,” you mutter under your breath.

She huffs. “I am relaxed.”

“You look like you’re about to interrogate someone.”

Caitlyn glares but doesn’t argue. Instead, she exhales slowly and—reluctantly—leans in. It’s subtle, but you feel the warmth of her thigh pressing against yours, the way her shoulder brushes you when she shifts.

Your breath catches for half a second. This is fine. It’s just an act.

A waitress drops two drinks on the table without a word, already moving on to the next customer. You take a cautious sip, immediately regretting it. The alcohol is strong, burning on the way down.

Caitlyn watches you with mild amusement. “Not to your liking?”

You scowl, pushing the glass away. “Tastes like regret.”

Caitlyn huffs out something almost like a laugh, but it’s gone just as quickly. She glances back at the crowd, still wary.

You sigh, nudging her knee with yours. “You’re still too tense.”

Caitlyn’s jaw tightens. “I don’t make a habit of—” She stops herself. Of pretending to be someone’s wife?

You smirk. “Really? Because I seem to remember that’s exactly what we’re doing.”

She exhales sharply, then—finally—relaxes just a little. She shifts even closer, her arm brushing yours again, her body warm against your side. The heat of it is distracting.

Too distracting.

Your heartbeat is a little too fast. Your skin tingles where she touches you, and suddenly, it’s too easy to remember just how pretty she is.

You’re about to say something—anything—to break the tension when Vi suddenly reappears, sliding into the seat across from you with a grin.

“Well, well,” she teases, looking between the two of you. “Didn’t expect you two to be so committed to the bit.”

Caitlyn immediately pulls back, straightening. “Shut up.”

Vi just laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Relax, cupcake. You’re doing great.”

Caitlyn glares at her, but you notice the way her fingers twitch against her glass—like she’s still aware of where your hand had been just moments ago.

You don’t know what to make of that.

Before you can dwell on it, Vi leans in, her tone shifting. “Alright, here’s the deal. There’s someone in the back of the bar who might know a safe way out of Zaun.” She nods toward a shadowy figure in a booth near the corner. “But they don’t talk to just anyone.”

You raise an eyebrow. “So how do we get them to talk?”

Vi grins. “Simple. You two keep playing the part, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Caitlyn frowns. “What does that mean?”

Vi’s smirk turns almost mischievous. “It means you two should probably dance.”

You choke. “What?”

Vi nods toward the small, makeshift dance floor where a few couples are swaying lazily to the music. “If you wanna sell this whole married couple on the run thing, you gotta look more convincing.”

Caitlyn scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”

Vi shrugs. “Suit yourself. But sitting here looking stiff while I talk to our contact? That’s suspicious.”

You look at Caitlyn. She looks at you.

For a second, neither of you speak.

Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you push back your chair and stand, holding out your hand. “Come on, darling,” you say, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Let’s dance.”

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow. “I hate you.”

But she takes your hand anyway.

She exhales sharply, then—finally—relaxes just a little. It’s subtle, but you see it in the way her shoulders drop, in the way her grip on her drink loosens. She’s still tense, still calculating every possible exit route, but at least now she looks less like a lost Piltover officer and more like a woman out for a drink with her wife.

Your wife.

You swallow hard, the word settling uneasily in your mind. This whole arrangement has been a burden, something forced on you both—but right now, sitting here, leaning into Caitlyn like this, it’s different. Dangerously different.

And then she moves closer. Not by much, just enough to make it look real. Just enough for her thigh to press fully against yours, for her arm to brush yours in a way that feels too easy.

Your breath catches. You glance at her, about to say something, but—her eyes are already on you.

Blue. Sharp. Searching.

The moment stretches too long, something unspoken passing between you.

A distraction.

Someone nearby slams their glass onto a table, laughing loudly, and the moment shatters. Caitlyn looks away first, taking a long sip of her drink. You exhale, shaking your head slightly, as if that’ll somehow fix whatever just happened.

Get it together.

Vi returns a moment later, dropping into the seat across from you with a knowing smirk. “Well, well. You two look downright cozy.”

You glare. “Shut up.”

Caitlyn shifts back slightly, but her arm remains against yours, her warmth still lingering. Vi notices but, mercifully, doesn’t comment on it.

Instead, she leans in. “Got some info,” she says, voice dropping slightly. “There’s someone in town who can get you both out of Zaun undetected. Problem is, they don’t work for free.”

You frown. “And what exactly do they want?”

Vi grins. “A favor.”

You glance at Caitlyn, who straightens. “What kind of favor?” she asks cautiously.

Vi’s grin widens. “Ever pulled off a heist before?”

Silence.

Caitlyn’s eyes narrow. “Absolutely not.”

Vi shrugs. “Suit yourself. But unless you got a better plan, this is the best shot you’ve got.”

You exchange a look with Caitlyn, a silent conversation passing between you. Neither of you wants this. Neither of you trusts it. But what choice do you have?

Finally, Caitlyn exhales through her nose, the tension in her jaw tightening. “Fine,” she mutters. “Tell us what we need to do.”

Vi’s grin turns wolfish. “That’s the spirit, cupcake.”

You sigh, already regretting this. But beneath the frustration, beneath the exhaustion, there’s something else—a quiet thrill curling in your stomach.

Not from the heist. Not from the danger.

From the way Caitlyn still hasn’t moved away.

[literary-lesbo]

What Have We Become

MedWhump May Day 4: Flatline Summary: JJ can't live without Emily. Word Count: 900 A/N: I actually really love this one, it's my favorite so far.

AO3

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JJ sat nervously in the waiting room, hands clasped under her chin in a long abandoned practice. She couldn’t remember the last time she prayed, she wasn’t even sure who she was praying too. Her relationship with religion had been nearly nonexistent since college, after leaving her small town she had left the church behind almost entirely. Almost. She only turned to her faith in times like these, times where her friends – her family – were hurt. 

She had seen Emily drop, heard the bullet tear through the air, and then through Emily’s skin. It was a sickening punch and then the brunette was on the ground. The bullet had passed through her side, entirely bypassing the bulletproof vest. JJ had quickly taken the Unsub, a killshot. One thing about Jennifer Jareau, she could hit her target 9/10 times. 

She had knelt beside her friend, no, she had become more than that over the last few weeks. Friend wasn’t strong enough, but she didn’t know what else to call the brunette. It felt like a part of herself was lying on that dirty warehouse floor, blood pooling onto the ground, soaking into JJ’s jeans. She had liked them, not anymore.

Blood had coated Emily’s soft lips, though she tried to keep a calm expression the entire time. JJ did not. JJ screamed into the radio, demanding medics. It felt like it had taken hours for the ambulance to arrive, it could only have been five minutes. Five minutes of begging Emily to hold on, of pressing her shirt into the hole in her partner's(?) side, of feeling warm blood cover her hands as the life faded from the older woman’s eyes. 

The first thing JJ heard when she was pried away from Emily’s side was a sharp, mechanical wail piercing the air. The pads on her chest were supposed to be reading her heartbeat. Instead the machine screamed the lack of life. Flatline, no pulse, blood loss, shock. Those words were tossed around as the EMT’s moved quickly to get Emily into the ambulance, someone was shouting at her, asking for information. 

She relayed the name, age, known allergies, current medications, as if they were her own. It was her job to know. She had the information for everyone at the time since she was a media liaison, but she kept special track of Emily’s just in case. Did that make her a bad person? Probably. She didn’t have the energy to worry about that anymore. 

Back in the waiting room JJ’s lips moved silently, the words burned into her brain. She could never forget them, no matter how hard she tried. She had tried. When the feelings for Emily first began to crop up she had tried so hard. She wasn’t able to crush the feelings nor forget the words. They felt almost foreign in her mouth, but it was all that she could do. 

She was vaguely aware of her team members around her, milling about as though they were fish in a bowl. No one felt entirely real, there were too many emotions swirling throughout the room. Hotch was on the phone, Hotch was always on the phone, presumably to Emily's mother. JJ wished he wouldn’t call her, not that she expected Ambassador Prentiss to show up. Not unless Emily died. 

which she did she did die she died in JJ’s arms she died in JJs arms and JJ had been useless again she had let two people die now if she had been faster maybe Emily wouldn’t have died

Her silence turned into soft mumbles as she spoke faster and louder, if she prayed harder everything would be okay. It had to be. Emily had to live, she couldn’t die. JJ would walk into the hospital room and the monitor would show a consistent spike, that would be her heart. It would beat steadily and perfectly. Emily would live. 

JJ didn’t register the tears slipping down her cheeks, she didn’t feel Spencer's hand on her knee. He was trying to be comforting, she would appreciate that later when she could feel anything other than panic and numbness. 

“...entiss?” 

JJ shot up, catching the tail end of the name. She walked to the doctor on trembling legs, mouth dry and hands shaking faster than she thought possible. 

“Is she alive?” The woman croaked, her voice barely audible. She had barely spoken since Emily was shot, the lump in her throat had blocked any words. 

The doctor eyed her carefully, perhaps waiting for her to burst into sobs. Maybe she would. It entirely depended on what he said next. 

“She’s alive. The surgery was touch and go for a while, she’s still very weak, but I expect she will make a full recovery. You may see her, in small groups,” he added that last part to the team that had gathered behind her. Penelope let out a relieved noise, the collective sigh of relief cut the tension in the room with a knife. 

JJ felt weightless. The tightly wound ball stress, anxiety, and fear tearing her chest had been shattered, it was too much. Her knees went weak and she found herself in someone's arms, chest rising and falling quickly with small gasps. Emily was alive. Emily would be okay. She hadn't failed. She hadn’t let another person die, not for real this time. 

Someone tried to call for a nurse but she pushed them off, mumbling something about being fine with a forced smile. She needed to see Emily, to verify that she was okay with her own eyes. Once that was done, she would let it out. She would deal with it all once she could see Emily. 

@medwhumpmay

[muffinsin]

Faith Seed x Deputy (OC?) NSFW ABC HCs

After the poll results I’ve decided to redo Bela, Cassandra, Daniela and Donna’s NSFW ABCs too when I have the time. Cassandra’s is out already and has been posted yesterday

Let’s get into it🤟

Masterlists

🌸 A – Aftercare, Appetite, Aftermath, Anal

🪷Aftercare

Their favourite method of aftercare is cuddling up together. The deputy likes to cradle Faith’s small body against hers, her fingers gently running through her hair, caressing her back, or stroking her thighs. Faith likes to listen to the deputy’s heartbeat or stay by her warm throat and play with her hair. When in the Bliss, Faith usually leans against the deputy and braids flower crowns for them. The deputy hands her every flower she can reach, content to feel her against her and listen to Faith humming as she works

🪷Appetite

The deputy never tires of Faith. Her touch, her taste, or her presence. No matter how many times she’s had her, it could never be enough. Faith feels the same way, feeling more outright clingy with her lover. She loves to touch her, to hold onto her, to feel her larger hand cupping hers, to wrap her arms and legs around her when she’s lifted

🪷Aftermath

To the deputy, the sight of her angel curled up against her after having sex, marked up and claimed, is just as intoxicating as taking her in the first place. Often, Faith will still breathe shakily, her heart racing from the orgasms she’s experienced, while the deputy likes to play with her hair to help steady her breathing again

🪷Anal

Faith rarely asks for anything relating her ass, but can enjoy it, she just feels satisfied by other things already. As it comes to anal, she likes getting her ass fingered best, and at times takes the deputy’s strap in her ass when they’re in wilder moods. She’s open to getting her ass licked, but would never think to ask for it. As it comes to anal- and most other things, really- she’s a pillow princess. She doesn’t like doing anything to her lover like that, and the deputy, as a stone-top leaning lesbian, is perfectly happy with that. Faith does like touching her ass, though, commenting how good it looks in her jeans

🌼 B – Body part, Begging, Bruises, Breasts

🪷Body part

Faith’s favorite part of the deputy is a tough one, she loves all of her so much! She loves her dark eyes, her hair, her face, her broad shoulders, her large chest, her muscular stomach, her big and strong, but gentle hands and when they hold hers. She loves her thighs, loves every little thing about her. If she had to choose a favorite body part of hers, though, it would be her large, muscular arms. Faith likes wrapping her arms around one large forearm and cuddling into it, feeling its warmth. Her fingers turn her on the most, however, when they tip up her chin to make her look up and when they wrap around her throat just right. The deputy equally love all of Faith’s body, though her throat is her favorite. She lives for feeling her pulse quicken right beneath her fingers when she teases her, and goes feral when she feels it pulse for her when Faith cums.

🪷Begging

The deputy loves hearing Faith beg and plead for her. Whether it’s for more, for mercy, for her touch or simply for her, she loves it all. She will absolutely make her girlfriend beg for every little thing, her little, breathy pleads fuelling her greed and desire every time without fail.

🪷Bruises

They love marking one another and wearing one another’s marks, but the deputy is the only one between the pair of them capable of creating bruises- and more, if she isn’t careful, even as she always is. She loves marking her by her throat, hand or fingerprints lingering there at times, or create proper bruises by Faith’s hips or thighs by holding her tight enough. The deputy equally thrives off of creating hickeys by Faith’s throat. In return, she eagerly and proudly wears the hickeys Faith creates on her when she feels particularly naughty, and the scratches along her back created when she takes her hard. Faith tends to leave more marks on her lover whenever she knows she is to head off to another region or when she moves to a resistance outpost. This often has resistance members ask the deputy about her “secret girlfriend”

🌸 C – Cum, Control, Claimed, Can’t

🪷Cum

Faith cums differently based on how full her bladder is, how often she’s came already, and how sensitive she is. Given her bladder is rather full, it isn’t her first time cumming and she’s sensitive, there’s a good chance she’ll squirt for her deputy. Otherwise, her cum is creamy and warm. She tastes sweet and is warm, and her cum is the same, though with her often bathing in the bliss drug, the slightly bitter taste is often confused as part of her cum’s taste

The deputy’s cum is thick and creamy and has a little more of a bitter taste to it. She prefers giving 90% of the time, but occasionally has Faith eat her out, allowing the deputy to taste herself on her girlfriend’s tongue

🪷Control

There’s no world, no blissed world or vision, no fantasy where the deputy lets her angel take charge, and Faith never tries or wants to do so. The deputy sets the pace, the tone, and how far Faith falls. This is incredibly comfortable to both of them, for the control comforts the deputy and being able to give it up comforts Faith. She trusts her lover fully and in return, the deputy always takes perfect care of her

🪷Claimed

Faith isn’t just with the deputy, they both hold a deep claim over one another, belonging to one another. Their body, minds, souls, bound forever

🪷Can’t

Faith can’t push anything the deputy pushes into her out, which the deputy finds utterly adorable. This is mainly due to Faith’s inexperience as it comes to sex, having only ever rubbed her clit before meeting the deputy when feeling utterly needy and viewing even that as a sin. At times, to tease her, the deputy finds it fun to hold Faith down and push a dildo inside of her. She’ll coo and brush her fingers lightly- too light- over her clit, refusing to properly touch her angel until she’s wet enough the toy slips out of her

The deputy can’t get off to touching her clit only. She needs insertion and usually fingers herself while having Faith suck and lap at her clit for extra stimuli during the rare times she feels like cumming

🌼 D – Dirty secret, Desperation, Domination, Do’s

🪷Dirty secret

Faith’s dirty secret is how sinning turns her on. She acts all innocent, prays away after committing her sin and sinful thoughts, but in reality, the moment she’s held tight by her lover and cums, she’s utterly turned on by how sinful and naughty she’s being. She feels bad about this quite often, but it never prevents her from squirming when she thinks about sex again

The deputy’s dirty secret could be considered Faith, being with her, while acting as though she is on the resistance’s side. Another dirty secret of hers is that she has a massive g!n kink, which she is too nervous to approach Faith about. When she finds herself in the mood without Faith there, she often gets off to the thought of fucking her soft pussy with an unloaded gun and watching her wetness smear on it

🪷Desperation

They both get desperate quite often, though display it in different ways. As such, it's shown in the way Faith clings to her deputy, needy and pliant, her lips parted and alloing soft gasps for breath and little moans to slip out. She becomes particularly desperate when she sees her lover act out towards those who aim to hurt her, going so far as to whine below her breath and gently tug at the deputy's hand to silently urge her to please come and take care of her. Another time Faith becomes embarassingly desperate is when her lover is out of her region, somewhere off to fight people in the valley or the mountains. Poor Faith humps her pillow desperately then, moaning her name and just wishing it could simply summon her lover to her side

The deputy on the other hand portrays this desperation by grabbing onto Faith's small waist or shoulder in public, her teeth subtly grinding against one another, her hand flexing and unflexing. Usually, this is when she attends one of the sermons and must wait for her girlfriend to finish speaking, or when her jealousy rises up when Josph sets his damned hand on Faith's shoulder or cheek. The deputy wants nothing but to rip the arm from its socket then, and while she cannot do that, she does usually drag Faith away as soon as she can. Desperate, it's unlikely she can wait all the way back to the bathroom and often opts for dragging her to a secluded corner in the nearby chapels and fingering her against the wall despite Faith's fierce blush and little, half-hearted complains about where they are doing it

🪷Domination

While Faith prefers being on the submissive side of things, the deputy is on top, always, dominant, rough, possessive. No one else will ever hold Faith like she does- no one else will ever be allowed to. Her favorite ways of subtly dominating Faith are by cupping her throat, lifting her chin, or squeezing her hip as a silent reminder for her to behave when she's being a little mischievious. And while Faith likes to tease her at times, sending "innocent" smiles, brushing her fingertips lightly across her skin, whispering in a breathy voice, letting a cultist hold her hands a little too long while staring at her lover, the deputy is always fast to put her back in her place

🪷Do's

As it comes to pleasuring Faith, her biggest Do is to play with her clit and nipples. Faith is incredibly sensitive already, and those spots, along with her throat, are even more so. She likes squirming, her pussy wet, and she loves when her deputy starts to toy with her. Often, this means grabbing her by the throat, having her spread her legs and teasing her pearly clit until she squirms and moans

A big Do for the deputy are Faith's little moans, pleas and whimpers. Her sounds are a massive turn on, which is why she doesn't like it whenever she has to silence her angel when taking her in public places

🌸 E – Experience, Edging, Exposed, Euphoria

🪷Experience

Faith has rather little experience, having tried to stay "pure" to please Joseph and the rules set by the Project and her faith. She'd mostly get off by humping or rubbing her clit, find it the easiest and a very effective way to get off. The deputy, a sharp contrast, has a lot of experience. She's been with women before, has had one night stands and a few somewhat serious relationships. But Faith is the first that has her obsessed. In the bedroom (or outside of it, really) she gets her girlfriend to try new things, one dirtier after the other

🪷Edging

The deputy likes keeping her angel right on the edge at times, shaking and pleading, too lost in the pleasure to remember anything but her. She likes hearing Faith's shaky voice, her gasps and whimpers, her pleas to please, let me cum, my love. She loves seeing just how needy she can make her, how wet, until her fingers easily slide through her folds and she can- slowly- sink anything into her girlfriend. Faith herself likes the thought of edging, though finds herself growing needy and desperate once she pleads to cum, her entire body right there. It's beautiful, sweet torture

🪷Exposed

Faith likes to tempt, to tease, to seduce. Her clothing already is rather revealing and with the deputy knowing every little, perfect inch of her, the dress does little to nothing to still her lover's insatiable hunger. While Faith is usually the one teasing her lover with gentle touches or by moving in a way that has her short dress rise up a little on purpose, it's always her being stripped down first, vulnerable and small in her deputy's lap, her soaked pussy toyed with and her body teased

🪷Euphoria

Sometimes, the deputy will start teasing and taking Faith while in the Bliss, when she's nice and hazy for her, when everything feels a little more intense and dull at the same time. Often, the deputy ends up pounding her into her flowerfield whenever Faith decides to be a brat and pulls her into the Bliss without her consent. She's never truly angry at her angel, though does always use the opportunity to teach her and be just a tad bit rougher with her

🌼 F – Favorite position, Filth, Feral, Full

🪷Favorite position

Faith's favorite position is to be held close to the deputy, her throat held to keep her in place, her lover's fingers in her pussy. Whenever her lover feels like receiving, Faith absolutely loves 69.

The deputy loves a variety of positions to take her lover in. And while doggy is one of her least favorite- wanting to see Faith's face as she fucks her- her favorite is a mating press position. For this, she likes pushing the strap in as deep as possible and hold Faith down against the bed by her throat. She loves taking her like this until her green eyes roll back and her lips part, her entire body turned to mush under her. Generally speaking, the deputy loves every position that has her fondle Faith's smaller body as she pleases

🪷Filth

Faith doesn't like getting dirty, though she does allow the deputy to take her in flower fields. And still, bathing together is a must for her. The deputy has little to no qualms about this, often coming back to the henbane river covered in blood and dirt, smoke and ashes. At least, this means her girlfriend will bathe with her, Faith's soft, bare body held close to her and her hands gently rubbing over hers, lovingly stroking the filth from her. To her, that is soft love she craves only from Faith

🪷Feral

While Faith is more on the softer side of things, even when seducing her lover, the deputy often dips into feral territory. Sometimes, there is little to no softness when the woman truly needs Faith- raw, unrelenting hunger and desire, her face buried between smooth, soft thighs, her teeth clashing against Faith's soft pussy, her tongue shoved inside, curling, eating- no, feasting

🪷Full

It isn't overly often, but sometimes, just sometimes, Faith will allow her deputy to truly stuff her as she likes. With Faith's pussy and ass fingered and her mouth stretched across the dildo stuck to the wall by the deputy, the older woman thinks her innocent Faith makes such a beautiful sight. She'll be hovering above her, her whispering teasing taunts in her ear and kissing at her bulged throat. After, she loves to lick all the wetness from her lover, praising and cooing at how well she did. She treasures these rare times and offers long aftercare, holding and washing and massaging her lover gently. When attending the next sermon, she's overly proud and satisfied whenever she sees her angel squirm and shift in place, her sore holes drooling and aching still days after

🌸 G – Goofy, Greed, Gripping, Glistening

🪷Goofy

Faith isn't goofy during sex per say, but she is playful. She doesn't want sex to be strict, and the deputy never makes it as such. She'll giggle and coo, gasp and pepper her lover's throat in kisses whenever she gets the chance. And while the deputy is far less goofy still, she does smile and make playful little comments and taunts here and there

🪷Greed

No matter how much she takes, it's never enough for the deputy. She wants more of Faith's voice, her little pleas, gasps, whimpers, moans, the sound of her breath hitching. Her warmth, especially so when the deputy is between her legs, her face buried between her thighs, her tongue exploring this warmth. That, is when she truly becomes hungry and greedy. She loves Faith's surrender, loves holding her close and tight to her, Faith's small body completely in her hands. She loves teasing and playing with her until she surrenders completely

🪷Gripping

Faith always clings to her lover, her nails digging in, trying to ground herself, her arms and legs often wrapped around her shoulders and hips. As if the deputy would ever let her go. In return, the deputy loves to grip Faith tightly. Usually, in public, she will be grabbing at her wrist or hip, a little more subtle, not as subtle as to not attract stares from some peggies- the deputy always makes them disappear in no time. At other times, she enjoys grabbing her angel by her throat, her gasp never too tight, and to grab at her soft thighs

🪷Glistening

The deputy loves seeing her pretty girlfriend's pussy glisten with her wetness. Seeing as she loves Foreplay, the deputy has no problem achieving that at all. Because by the time she pulls away, she hungrily stares at the wetness drooling from Faith, her hips bucking and rolling sweetly. Often, the sight of her red and sensitive and sore pussy, wet from her own juices and the deputy after eating her out, has her head spin in the best way

🌼 H – Hair, Handprints, Heated, Harnessed

🪷Hair

The deputy loves Faith's hair, how soft and beautiful it is, how well it smells. And while she likes the thought of tugging it back to bare Faith's throat to her, she never, never does so at any point, knowing her girlfriend would not like it. Instead, she only feels it when she cups the back of her head or feels it tickle at her hand when she holds her angel by the throat. Often, stroking her hair helps the deputy calm down. In time, somehow (the deputy really has no idea how it happened), Faith teaches her to braid. The sight of the large, strong, muscular, scarred and rough deputy sitting with Faith in her lap and braiding her hair is certainly an amusing one, but one no one gets to set their eyes on. Such moments are only for the two of them, and Faith would never tell

🪷Handprints

The deputy loves to leave her marks on Faith, loves to see her fingers and their grip reflected on her pale skin by marks along her throat, wrists, hips and thighs. Sometimes, though, there are actual handprints left on Faith. The deputy would never slap her, would never turn abusive towards her. There is a time, though, reserved for when Faith is trying to be a brat with her. Then, she finds herself held down with her ass up, the soft cheeks struck over and over again. Rarely does the deputy spank her more than five to six times, knowing of her own strenght and Faith's sensitivity and low pain resistance. Still, so little as two slaps to her rear are enough for Faith to sport the deputy's large handprints, at least for a while

🪷Heated

Faith's body betrays her, always, and the deputy loves it. She loves feeling Faith's soft cheeks when they're heated up, a fierce blush taking over. She especially likes when she brings her to a secluded area at church, her hand already slipping up her short dress, her lips already by Faith's throat. She loves how she will whimper and complain softly, try to tell her how they shouldn't- couldn't possibly- do it there out of all places, even as her body heats up and throbs for her already, her heart beating fast, cheeks and throat warming up, the area between her legs growing warmer the more her ass and thighs are rubbed under the dress. It drives the deputy absolutely insane

🪷Harnessed

While certainly not always, the deputy does like using a strap at times, and Faith likes receiving it at times. The deputy loves the heavy feeling of it around her hips, and loves driving it deep within Faith. At times, she will have Faith retrieve it for her, but she is never allowed to do so without permission. Faith secretly loves this, and loves being unable to access the toys the deputy brings without her. It has her feel dominated in a more intimate way still, squirming and yearning for something inside when her lover isn't there, yet being completely helpless without her. It drives both of them crazy in the best of ways

🌸 I – Intimacy, Intensity, Insatiable, Innocence

🪷Intimacy

Faith is big on intimacy. She isn't one for quickies and quick fucks, doesn't and has never liked or had sex outside of a relationship. It's all about connection to her, love, and trust. She needs to feel close to the deputy to have sex, needs to feel her hold her, loves to kiss and smile against her lover's lips during it. She wants sex to feel romantic, even when she gets her ass spanked and receives the strap or rougher treatment. The deputy, while having had many meaningless quickies or so with women she has never seen again after, cares deeply about intimacy as it comes to Faith. She loves her, and she wants to show that to her every single day. She's rough with her, insatiable, but she's also intimate and loving. She loves seeing, hearing, and holding Faith during sex

🪷Intensity

Everything about the deputy is overwhelming and overpowering to Faith, from her strenght to her lust, to her love, her fierce protectiveness and dark possessiveness, and Faith wouldn't have it any other way. When they have sex, they don't stop until they're satisfied. Often, this can mean Faith is tearing up and gasping, her entire body sensitive and sore, her voice sore and lips dry from moaning for hours. Neither of them would have it any other way

🪷Insatiable

They're both insatiable as it comes to the two of them, though the deputy is a little more so. She has more stamina, more endurance, and can and will go for hours at times. She could easily spend the majority of the day between Faith's spread legs, lapping at her, fucking her with her throat, rubbing her pearly clit until it's bright red and sore to the touch. Whenever she does, she finds it utterly adorable how Faith will moan and cry out for her, her entire body shaking, her hips bucking as her body tries to get away from the intense pleasure, even as she keeps begging for more the second she gets close again

🪷Innocence

Faith is by far more innocent between the two of them, and absolutely appears as such, her body small and sweet smile a sharp contrast to the deputy's angry scowl, large, broad body and clenched fists. And while Faith is not at all innocent as it comes to her actions, even as she comes across as such, she is when it comes to sex, and the deputy finds it utterly arousing. She loves when Faith squeals and blushes at the smallest of touches, when she arches her back even as she mumbles something about how they shouldn't do this because of this and that- religious talk the deputy doesn't bother listening to. She loves the thought of ruining Faith all over again, taking her innocence and making her wear her sin on her sleeve. She secretly loves making Faith reek of her, especially when she is to attend a sermon and she knows the scent is still there, albeit hidden beneath the heavy one of bliss always sticking to her girlfriend

🌼 J – Jack off, Jealousy, Jaw, Juicy

🪷Jack off

On her own, Faith doesn't get off that often, feels in the mood only from time to time. With the deputy, however, this happens a lot more often. She can't help it, not when the woman teases her, not when she's somewhere in the henbane and Faith watches through the Bliss as she fights, strong and bloody, easily and brutally taking apart those who dare threathen her. It gives her a rush of something, has her stomach do flips when she hears the woman snap someone's jaw after they insulted the herald. Whenever the deputy returns to the bunker, Faith already has her hands on them. The deputy has a rather high sex drive, though feels the need to cum only rarely. Instead, she loves watching Faith cum for her, her whole body collapsing in her arms. It gives her a rush unlike most other things

🪷Jealousy

While both of them can certainly become jealous quite fast, the deputy's jealousy is more violent and immediate. She doesn't tolerate fake competition and acts immediately, and Faith's status as a herald and leader, worshipped and loved by her followers, hardly helps with that. The deputy snaps to attention immediately, the moment anyone as much as looks at her girlfriend the wrong way or for too long or dares touching her. While she's sometimes subtle, taking them out and blaming it as getting between the fronts during the war, she at times also moves in directly, her rings causing deep slashes and ugly bruises when she boxes whoever caught her eye negatively in the face. And, while more subtly, she often also merely grabs onto Faith's hips to calm herself, show her position, and remind Faith's of hers. Faith, while far more subtle, is no less drastic. She hates people flirting with her deputy, her blood boiling whenever women from the resistance try to playfully flirt with her. She pulls them each into the Bliss, though has no intention at all to show them the heaven she describes as the garden. No, she will show them hell

🪷Jaw

The deputy loves gripping Faith's face, her chin and jaw, and force her to look up at her. She just loves seeing her vulnerable, only for her, and in return loves showing Faith that she can and will take care of her. Faith loves kissing and biting at her jaw when cuddling or making out

🪷Juicy

The deputy likes to keep Faith wet, teasing and playing with her through her dress, whispering filthy things in her ear and toying with her before she as much as removes Faith's dress. She loves showering her in attention until she's panting, her juicy pussy soft and soaked for the deputy. Often, she has her soak through her underwear and trace Faith's pussy- soft, juicy, warm- with her fingertip. She likes making a mess of her whenever she can

🌸 K – Kinks, Kneeling, Kiss, Killing

🪷Kinks

Faith, despite her good girl attitude, has plenty naughty and less naughty kinks. She loves being praised, her pussy throbbing with every little praise coming from her lover's mouth, whether that is how good she looks and behaves, how beautiful she is, how well she tastes, her actions, her complete submission, or the look in her eyes, hazy and soft.

She loves to be manhandled just right, never painful, but always forceful enough to move her. She likes the deputy's hands on her, rearranging her as she wants her. She likes being vulnerable like that, and this kink of hers perfectly matches her size kink, which she shares with her lover.

She loves almost worshipping her lover, would drop to her knees and serve her the second she is ordered to.

Another kind of hers is to be tamed. She can be a massive brat at times, and she loves it. She lives for seeing the effects her brattiness and teasing has on her lover, and while her heart races, she feels so alive when the woman pushes her down, holds her down, and tames her effortlessly. She loves pushing limits, testing waters, knowing her lover will always put her right back in her place.

And lastly, but certainly not least, Faith likes to act innocent. She likes batting her wide eyes at her lover and giving her a "What do you mean" look. She likes acting like an innocent woman, even as she shakes with want the moment she is pulled close to the deputy and she drags her teeth across her sensitive throat.

The deputy, in turn, has a lot of dirtier kinks still, that she all loves to explore with her. One of her biggest ones is a corruption kink. She loves when Faith acts sweet, loves when she gets to ruin her. And even when her angel only acts sweet, the deputy knows she is corrupting her every second she's with her. Every time she pumps her fingers in and out of her cute pussy, dragging moans from her the woman would then try to justify, knowing the Father or her precious God would not approve. She loves taking her in places holy to the cult, using her like perhaps, for once, she could snatch Faith from Eden's Gate.

The deputy also has a raging size and strength kink. She loves how small Faith is, how easily she can use this to maneuver and lift, control and trap her in place. She loves grabbing her whenever she can, and while she would always take care of her angel, the deputy gets so wet at the thought that Faith is completely helpless in her arms.

The deputy is sadistic, though often tender with Faith or holds back, at least. Still, this perfectly combines with her Breath kink. She loves holding her throat and feeling her pulse beat beneath, and while she would never squeeze too hard, she likes to occaisonally make Faith's breath hitch. Just knowing that it is due to her drives her crazy. She loves delivering spank after spank to Faith's round ass and watching the handprint form on her, though holds back and cradles her gently when tears form at her eyes, her skin bruised so very easily. The deputy always takes care of her wounds, silently thankful the woman allows her to inflict the smallest amount of them on her at all

And lastly, the deputy has a thing for power, and is hardly subtle either. But even Faith doesn't completely know about her lover's darkest desires, how she at times fantasizes of taking her with her, away from the project, taken and locked away somewhere far away where none could find her and only the deputy exists. She loves being able to control Faith physically, easily overpowering her and trapping her in place, and she loves what it does to the herald. She further loves controlling every little sound, ever plead, every gasp, every moan, every orgasm. Faith doesn't get to cum if she doesn't agree to it, Faith doesn't get to use a toy if she doesn't allow it, Faith doesn't get to wear a thing when she's with her in private if not picked out by her lover. She loves it, and it deeply grateful for the power her girlfriend willingly hands over

🪷Kneeling

Faith may be something of an object of devotion and love to peggies, but for the deputy? She kneels, obedient and waiting, looking up at her with eager, green eyes and lips parted in anticipation. Her favorite time to be kneeling, and the time she is most humiliated and aroused at the same time- is when she is to sit between the woman's spread legs, her tongue either allowed to lap up the wetness of her pussy or- more commonly- wrapped around the strap slowly guided in her mouth and down her throat. The deputy, in return, often looks as though worshipping her too, and does so often enough, when she kneels in front of Faith with one leg slung over her strong shoulder and her hands at her hips, her tongue exploring the younger woman's soft insides

🪷Kiss

The two of them love to kiss. Faith goes wild for slow, deep and sensual kisses that pull smiles and hums and a series of little moans from her. The deputy loves to hold her throat or cup her cheek and kiss her. Faith's tongue is soft, gentle, slow. The deputy's is more sure as she easily takes control of every kiss. Both of them love to kiss whenever they can, whether this is small kisses stolen in a bathroom stall when they are hidden away from others, deep kisses when they're tangled up, or long makeout sessions

🪷Killing

As much as Faith tries to argue and convince herself that she is good, she loves watching her lover kill. She loves seeing her strength and anger unfiltered, knows the deputy always holds back with her as to not hurt her. Seeing her fully take it out on her enemies, however, has Faith squirm and has her cheeks heat up. Never has killing excited her, and even as she pities the lives lost, she can't help but watch, her breath held, her eyes wide and eager

🌼 L – Location, Lingerie, Love Bites, Lap

🪷Location

Perhaps quite surprisingly given Faith's beliefs and the somewhat secret status of their relationship, they don't have sex only in the privacy of Faith's chambers in the bunker. Often, they retreat into the Bliss for this, whereas at times the deputy, hungry and feral, even manages to convince Faith to let her take her outside, in empty chapels when a sermon is being held. In the very rare cases the deputy takes her out, allowing her the freedom she yearns for but is never granted by her "family", they occaisionally fool around in the backseat of the car, parked off the road and hidden away, far away from potential threats

🪷Lingerie

While Faith herself owns nothing spicy in the slighest and would blush fiercely upon being put in it, she often indulges the deputy when she brings her pieces she's found and wants her in. Faith looks delicate in lace, silk, anything beautiful, and looks best in white and red. The deputy wears no lingerie, though eagerly peels Faith's off whenever she can

🪷Love Bites

The deputy loves placing marks where only she can see it. A reminder, a claim. She loves to mark Faith's thighs and hips, occaisionally slaps or bites her soft, round ass cheeks or, when she knows Faith is not around the other seeds or a peggie in a while, likes to leave marks on her throat and chest, her wrists and jaw. Faith loves to mark her up whenever she can, kissing along her body and creating hickeys whenever possible, her smaller body on top of her lover, her lips ghosting across her and moans melting against her skin as she massages Faith's ass during the treatment. When she is treated a little rougher, held tight with the strap thrusting in and out of her, Faith often scratches up the deputy's back. She wears those marks with pride

🪷Lap

Faith absolutely loves being in her deputy's lap, her legs hanging off by the sides of her thighs or even curled up on top of it with her, her body held gently, strong arms around her. Often, their fooling about starts out like this, with Faith held close to her, pressed up as tight as possible, moaning into the deputy's warm mouth as they make out

🌸 M – Motivation, Mouth, Mind, Morning

🪷Motivation

What really gets Faith going are the deputy's dirty words, her wandering hands and the hunger in her eyes. At times, Faith might act innocent, act like they shouldn't do this and that, but the moment the deputy cups her breasts through her dress, holds her throat and tells her to be a good girl, and take it, she melts completely, her body responding naturally, her eyes flutter shut and she begs quietly. The deputy can be triggered by a variety of things to get her in the mood, but being teased by Faith, having her possessiveness triggered or hearing her gasp softly are definetely the top 3

🪷Mouth

The deputy loves Faith's mouth. She loves dragging cute, breathless little sounds from her, loves to kiss her and bruise her lips with her own, and she loves to play with it. At times, she'll hold her throat to keep her in place, her index and middle finger pushing into Faith's open mouth and sliding along her tongue. Her good girl keeps her mouth open, her eyes set on her, her tongue stuck out, until she is told differently and is allowed to close her mouth, instead sucking the fingers into her mouth eagerly and wetting them for the older woman. At other times, she likes to watch her with her hand in her hair, gently stroking as Faith licks at the tip of her strap. It isn't often, but it does happen always when she is angry at the cult and feels like defiling their most precious and seemingly most innocent asset

🪷Mind

When they have their fun in the Bliss, the deputy takes full advantage of the fact that the world is controlled by Faith- and in extension, her. She's often seen Faith create multiple versions of herself and, inspired by this, likes to have her conjure up extra hands to help the deputy keep her in place or toy with her during foreplay. She loves to finger Faith for hours in the Bliss, until the world around them is even brighter and warm, as though a show of her lover's sex-hazed mind and gaze after hours of being pleasured

🪷Morning

They often enough enjoy slow, gentle mornings, though at times they awaken to different things, too. In Faith's case this can mean a variety of things; waking up to getting her pussy licked and clit sucked, to fingers slowly pumping in and out of her, to hands greedily exploring her body, and more. The deputy always knows her lover woke up in that type of mood when she awakens to soft little gasps and the light weight of Faith's body against hers, her arms wrapped around her, little moans dragged from her as she humps her lover's thigh. She can't help it, and is thankful that the deputy never makes fun of her for it, but always helps her handle things when she gets like that

🌼 N – No, Neediness, Nipples, Noise

🪷No

Faith has a few No-Go's. As much as she loves the deputy being rough with her, she doesn't like to be slapped or hurt too much. She likes being maneuvred and manhandled lightly, but doesn't like truly being manhandled against her will. She doesn't like her hair being tugged, one of the few things still capable of bringing up bad memories from her past, and she doesn't like anything involving feet, scat, or urin. Faith wouldn't like public humiliation, and only likes the lightest and most subtle kinds of humiliation, like sucking at the woman's strap or dirty whispers in her ear as she's taken over the pult in various churches when it's just the two of them. Still, she would hate public humiliation, partly because she wants to remain an image of purity, innocence, love and her beliefs, and the fact she must. Faith doesn't like to be blindfolded; it leaves her vulnerable, too vulnerable, and has her feel as though alone in the dark, where scary memories and fears often come to the surface. And lastly, Faith would not stand for the deputy mocking her faith. She knows, she doesn't believe, doesn't see the Father like that. In fact, she is perfectly aware of her lover's hatred for him and her "brothers", and being partly scared of Joseph, she alllows it and the few comments that come with it. She allows her to take her at some places sacred to her, but would not stand for the deputy outright mocking her faith.

The deputy dislikes having her privates touched unless she allows it, and appreciates Faith never caressing her between her legs unless given permission. She would never think of actually hurting her lover and gets sick at the thought of accidentally breaking a bone or cutting Faith. Additionally, she dislikes the thought of marking Faith's face. While she loves placing marks in various places, even her throat and jaw, she doesn't want to harm even a little bit of her angelic face. She doesn't like scat or watersports and is very clear on not wanting to share Faith with anyone. As such, whoever dares even playfully suggest a threesome- should there be anyone foolish enough to do so- would meet their swift, but painful end at her hands

🪷Neediness

Faith gets needy faster, but the deputy gets needier. Faith's neediness starts out subtle, but her ragged breathing is a sign of it even early on, before hard nipples, shaky legs, wandering hands, rolling and bucking hips and utterly soaked panties follow. The deputy's neediness first is shown by her becoming a tad bit rougher, her touches a little more meaninful and desperate as she tugs Faith to a secluded area with her

🪷Nipples

Faith has smaller breasts than her deputy, but her nipples are far more sensitive. She'll squirm and moan, especially when the deputy decides to experiment with her nipples, sucking and licking them gently, tugging them lightly. Faith dislikes the pain that comes with nipple clamps, but the one time her lover brought a toy capable of sucking her breasts, she came faster than she feels she should have. Now, she occaisonally feels the deputy suck at her breasts, pulling cute whines and gasps from her. In return, Faith occaisionally sucks at hers when allowed, her body heating up and moans around the nipples making the deputy grunt and pull her tighter to her

🪷Noise

While the deputy usually sticks to whispers, her low voice and grunts and groans, Faith can go from little whimpers and gasps to screams, all depending on how sensitive she is already and where they are. At times, it's incredibly hard for her to stay quiet, though she loves the deputy drowning her moans with her mouth by kissing her

🌸 O– Oral, Obsession, Overstimulation, Open-minded

🪷Oral

The deputy prefers giving oral, Faith prefers receiving it. When given permission to, however, she likes licking at her lover's pussy and clit, too. She'll be a little gentler, little licks and sucks compared to the deputy's insatiable, hunger and her tongue eagerly exploring her for hours

🪷Obsession

No one has ever been the deputy's like Faith is, and no one will ever be. No one has ever been as special to Faith, like this, like the deputy is. She's utterly obsessed with all there is about Faith, and loves exploring her all over again to the point she knows every little move and reaction she might be capable of pulling from her

🪷Overstimulation

The deputy adores overstimulating Faith. She loves doing this especially when giving her oral, her hands forcefully keeping her angel’s thighs apart for her, her tongue still sliding into her and tasting her, her teeth making the pretty thing squeal when she gently bites down on her soft pussy. She doesn’t care for Faith trying to squirm away, when she trembles and cries out from the pleasure (even as she will always stop when genuinely told to). She loves to fuck Faith until she’s completely spent, until she shivers and squirms and is too exhausted to move, at which point the deputy gently pulls her into her arms and lifts her, cradling her to her or laying her down and playing with her hair to soothe her and calm her racing heart

🪷Open-minded

Faith is quite curious and open minded. When her lover comes with a new toy or lingerie set, she’s eager to indulge her. When she wants to try a new position, she’s all for it. When she wants her to try new things, Faith trusts her completely

🌼 P – Pace, Praise, Porn, Plural

🪷Pace

Their pace usually is entirely dependent on their mood. At times, they’re fast, all rough touches and hungry kisses, panting and moaning, grabbing onto me another and coming over and over again. At other times they like to take it slow, preferring a slow and sensual approach to things. The deputy especially likes this on difficult days or when she’s trying to show Faith just how special, precious and delicate she is to her

🪷Praise

Faith may be a criminal, may be an innocent-looking murderer, may be dangerous, but to the deputy? She’s perfect, and she loves telling her such. Faith loves any praise that falls from her lover’s lips. In bed, it easily arouses and makes her even wetter, serves as an excellent way to get her flustered and in the mood and makes her feel good about herself. And while the deputy doesn’t share her praise kink, she does enjoy it when Faith praises her in a soft, breathy voice

🪷Porn

Faith has never and would never watch porn on her own, her cheeks heating up and a little frown appearing on her cheeks at the mere thought. The deputy has had a good share of dirty magazines in the past, already and is not opposed to it. At times the deputy thinks of strapping Faith down, rope wrapped around her angel’s beautiful body, her smaller form held back against her chest while she makes her watch some. It’s a good thought to her, mainly fuelled by her corruption kink

🪷Plural

The deputy likes using multiple things on Faith at times. She likes using her hands and tongue, at times a strap and sometimes a vibrator when she really feels like making Faith squirm and squirt for her. Her favorite combination? To cuff her angel’s hands behind her back, take her with the strap, hold her throat and dominate her mouth with hers while a vibrator wand is taped to her stomach, the buzzing tip held right against Faith’s sensitive clit. When she feels particularly naughty and her girlfriend allows it, she moves her hand from her hip down her ass and fingers it, too

🌸 Q– Quickie, Quivering, Quiet

🪷Quickie

While they usually have longer, drawn out sessions of fooling around, there certainly are times when the two like to have quickies. Usually this is during festivals hosted by Joseph seed, after long sermons, blessings, and the deputy scowling at the hour-long singing sessions. When possible, she likes to snatch Faith for herself, her fingers grabbing and tugging her by her wrist and out of sight. Usually, their quickies go no further than fingering and making out

🪷Quivering

Faith’s whole body reacts to the deputy- her voice, her touches, the feeling of her against her skin and what she does to her. She shakes beneath her, quivering and gasping so sweetly. The deputy loves doing that to her, and loves knowing only she can do so

🪷Quiet

Sometimes, Faith needs to be quiet. Like when the deputy feels particularly greedy, dragging her to a bathroom during events and slowly fucking her up against the wall, or when she knows a peggie is nearby when taking Faith in a church. As such, with a heavy hard, she usually slides her hand over Faith’s lower face half, easily lowering her mouth and muffling all moans, squeals, gasps, groans, and pleas. What is left are soft little noises, almost too quiet, but the deputy hears them all and eagerly drinks them in

🌼 R – Risk, Rough, Riding, Railing

🪷Risk

While she would never subject Faith to public humiliation and never truly allow the two of them to be caught by anyone capable of spreading the word, the deputy does enjoy taking a little risk her and there. She just finds it adorable how Faith’s green eyes go wide when she takes her at the church’s bathroom and they hear someone move in, loves how she feels her heart beating faster and pulse quickening beneath her fingers when she just keeps fucking her despite the presence of someone nearby. Once, admittedly, she dragged Faith into the men’s bathroom instead, her own pussy soaked when she got to fuck her slowly with Joseph washing his hands only a few steps away, the door of the stall the only thing hiding them away. She couldn’t help it, and still thinks about it fairly often when she feels possessive and angry about Joseph’s grip on her girlfriend’s mind

🪷Rough

Often, the deputy isn’t gentle. She takes, claims, wants it all. She never hurts Faith, but always leaves marks. She never scares her, but always presses her down and holds her in place, her small body at the stronger, taller woman’s mercy. She loves it. She loves gripping Faith however she likes and arranging her to fit her needs, turning and holding her and plowing her just right

🪷Riding

It isn’t often the deputy allows Faith to be on top, physically. And even when she is, the deputy is fully in control, her hands grabbing Faith’s soft hips to control every movement, her words enough to drive the woman wild and make her tremble and beg even on top. The deputy loves to make Faith ride her face, the angle allowing her to truly push her tongue deep into her and pick up not only her wetness, but also her sweet scent. Then, at rarer times, there are instances she pulls her on her lap, Faith’s hands set on her strong shoulders, her breasts bouncing as her hips are jerked up and down, her body lifted easily and brought back down on the deputy’s large strap. This is the only way the deputy allows her angel to be on top

🪷Railing

The deputy’s favourite way to rail Faith is by holding her body up, her feet lifted off the ground, her Angel held up by the deputy’s hand snaked around her and up her body, her fingers grabbing her throat. She likes making her tilt her head up, allowing the deputy to see her cute expression as she’s railed from behind. She especially likes tracing the slight bulge in Faith’s stomach when she does so

🌸 S– Stamina, Scissor, Sounds, Surrender

🪷Stamina

The deputy has, due to her stature, position, workouts and lifestyle, far more stamina than Faith. She could go for hours, easily fights through aching limbs and burning aches after thrusting her hips back and forth for an extended period of time. But Faith, as a pillow princess, manages to keep up with her stamina due to exhausting herself less than the deputy

🪷Scissor

Faith, despite feeling originally only mildly curious about it, loves scissoring. She loves feeling her lover’s clit rub against hers, loves to be covered in her juices and over her in her sweeter ones. They don’t scissor very often, but when they do, the deputy is always on top, raising Faith’s leg in the air and holding onto it, her hips thrusting until she’s satisfied

🪷Sounds

The deputy loves Faith’s little pleads, whimpers, moans and gasps. She loves dragging them from her, too. Faith has a huge thing for her deputy’s voice. She loves how low and rough it is, how hot it sounds when filthy words are whispered against her skin

🪷Surrender

The deputy likes to make Faith surrender from time to time, when she feels bratty. Faith likes to tease and seduce, act either bratty or innocent until she’s tamed again and her body, soul and mind all surrender to her lover again. Sometimes, she caves in fast, at other times she’s as though helpless. They both love either

🌼 T – Toys, Thighs, Torment, Tiny

🪷Toys

The two of them own a variety of toys, all brought by the deputy and used by her. She loves controlling Faith even indirectly through them, locking them away in a drawer in their bunker so only she may retrieve them. She loves knowing her angel squirms in bed when she isn’t there, helpless, unable to get her hands on the toys only her lover may use on her. The deputy owns two straps, one large to fit her tall and broad stature, the other smaller, used to initially start stretching her innocent girlfriend out. They rarely use it now. She owns two plugs, though Faith hardly ever allows them inside, becoming far too sensitive for her own good with her ass plugged, so that the deputy gets incredibly jealous, possessive and protective when a follower simply brushing past Faith has her shiver and gasp and wet her panties more. They own a vibrator, which she occasionally uses on Faith, used to own nipple clamps before the deputy threw them out upon seeing her girlfriend’s dislike for them, and a variety of accessories like lingerie, rope, even a collar and leash that has the deputy become absolutely feral whenever she may put it on her angel

🪷Thighs

The deputy loves grabbing, touching, groping and marking Faith’s thighs, but Faith likes her lover’s stronger, wider, fleshier thighs better. She loves to sit on her lap, loves to caress her thighs, and loves to grind down on them. The deputy knows just how to angle herself and flex her thigh to help her needy lover get off when she’s needy enough to hump her

🪷Torment

Faith likes to torment the deputy by sending her innocent smiles, flirty smirks, licking her lips at her or by sliding her hand just briefly across her shoulders in public. She also loves to appear to her in form of Bliss hallucinations, often praising her or whispering sweet, breathy things to her. It drives the deputy absolutely insane

The deputy, in return, loves tormenting Faith by dragging things out. She teases her for a long time before touching her and enjoys keeping her right on the edge if she feels Faith hasn’t earned her orgasm yet. She loves to tease her and feel her up whenever she knows no one is glancing their way

🪷Tiny

With both, Faith and the deputy having a thing for a difference in height and strength, they love to make theirs apparent. Faith loves when the deputy lifts her off her feet effortlessly and presses her to her. The deputy loves to throw her over her shoulder, loves to hold her down and turn her. She loves to see Faith’s small body press to her larger one. When she holds her girlfriend’s hand in hers, she loves how soft and small it is in comparison, and when she pulls her to her, she loves feeling those small hands on her chest

🌸 U– Unfair, Unrelenting, Underwear, Us

🪷Unfair

As much as she loves her, the deputy can be quite unfair sometimes, usually when she feels particularly hungry or possessive and wants Faith to beg a little more. Like that, she’ll usually rub her clit with an antagonizingly slow pace, cooing and stopping whenever her lover finally gets close again. She’s never too cruel, never brings genuine tears to her angel’s eyes, but often enough Faith cries cute crocodile tears for her, hoping it might make her give in and give her what she wants. But the deputy always sees right through her little manipulations and sees to it that Faith is punished for them every single time without fail

🪷Unrelenting

The deputy takes a long time to feel satisfied. Until then she just doesn’t let up, barely gives Faith time to catch her breath after an orgasm before she hungrily continues on

🪷Underwear

Faith usually wears pink and white cotton panties matching her dress. The deputy loves how when she leans forwards a little too much in the, they reveal the swell of her round, soft ass cheeks. Sometimes, she wears lingerie for her lover, though generally sticks to the comfortable cotton panties- especially as the deputy loves ruining them. Faith generally wears no bra, unless sometimes when she knows she will be attending a sermon and it might get cold

The deputy doesn’t stray from comfort, p preferring tight shorts that not only make her feel comfortable, but also don’t bother her, seeing as she runs around, works out, fights and climbs a lot

🪷Us

While they have eyes only for each other, the deputy likes taking this even farther. Slowly, subtly, and over time she reinforces the mindset that only they matter, that only she matters to Faith. This already has Faith turn a blind eye when cultists disappear shortly after she interacted a little too much with them, but the deputy’s ultimate goal is to warp her beautiful girlfriend’s thoughts enough to prioritise her always, even when it inevitably comes to a confrontation between her and one of the other Seeds

🌼 V – Volume, Vulnerable, Violence, Video

🪷Volume

Faith ranges from being loud to quiet, whereas the deputy tends to always be quiet and keep her voice low

🪷Vulnerable

For all her teasing, her effortless seduction, her occasional cruelty to resistance members, Faith is helpless under the deputy’s hands, left utterly vulnerable. She knows, without bliss, she’s entirely helpless against her, could die at her hands within seconds with no way to save herself or even effectively fight back. It comforts her knowing that her lover would never hurt as much as a single hair on her head and instead kills all who dare threaten her

🪷Violence

The deputy is violent, lashing out towards her enemies, brutalising those who dare try to hurt her angel and asserting her dominance over those thinking they could possibly snatch her from her

🪷Video

If one of them was to propose filming themselves having sex, neither Faith nor the deputy would reject this idea, though neither have a kink for it. Perhaps, the deputy would use these videos when in different regions of the county, however, on nights she misses her angel particularly much. Due to how sensitive and secretive has to be, however, they don’t risk it. The deputy knows the resistance members would become hostile upon finding out her relationship with Faith, and while she doesn’t dare voice it, Faith knows her “brothers” would likely go after the deputy and try to kill her on the spot upon finding out about the extent of their relationship

🌸 W– Wild Card, Worship, Wild Card #2

🪷Wild Card

Faith loves to be tied up. She loves it when her lover takes the time to do it properly, propping up her body or making her dangle from the ceiling of the bunker, completely tied and vulnerable, her hair spilling over her body, her limbs tied down. She loves being presented like a work of art to her like this, though gets moody when the deputy dares look away from her for even a moment

While never bringing it up, the deputy would love to cage Faith. When it’s just her, when they have time. She doesn’t want Faith to take it the wrong way and therefore never brings it up, but can’t deny the ache within her body when she imagines her cute, delicate fingers wrapping around the bars and green eyes looking up at her, her body completely bare and mouth opening when a strap is forced through the bars

🪷Worship

The deputy doesn’t just want and watch Faith- she adores her, practically worships her in the way she treats and sees her. She loves to shower her in love and desire, to get her worship across with every touch, every glance, every kiss. Faith, in return, seems to almost worship her with her kisses and touches, her love so grand for her deputy

🪷Wild Card #2

Faith enjoys being watched by the deputy, and while she always knows when she is being watched, she sometimes acts naive and innocent, entirely unaware of her lover’s presence. But, she specially likes being watched as she undresses or performs certain tasks for her lover. The feeling of being observed increases her desire to please, making her movements more sensual and deliberate and making her feel more and more naughty in return

The deputy likes to think about pet play, even as she hasn’t quite approached Faith about it just yet. She can’t help it, though, not when she sees her angel as so soft and cute, small and all hers. She would love to make her crawl on her hands and knees for her, a tail plug in h r ass, little kitty ears put on her that match her auburn hair. And, of course, a cute collar

🌼 X – X-Ray, X marks the spot

🪷X-Ray

Faith’s body is small, curvy, and very feminine. She sports small breasts and a large ass and a few light freckles here and there along her skin. Generally she’s built very soft

The deputy is a sharp contrast to this. She’s large and has a broad build, her arms and stomach muscular. She has a pierced stomach, but no longer keeps any actual piercing inside to prevent being hurt during a fight or climbing. Her body is generally rather hard and muscular, her limbs firm whereas Faith is on the softer and more delicate side of things

🪷X marks the spot

Touching Faith’s clit or nipples can absolutely drive her crazy. For the deputy, this is her throat, who only Faith gets to get close to

🌸 Y– Yearning, Yanking, Yes

🪷Yearning

Faith, and the deputy, always yearn for one another. Faith thinks of her in the bliss, the deputy thinks of her when she’s out; the two are constantly on one another’s mind

🪷Yanking

The deputy loves to yank Faith with her. Whether to portray her strength by grabbing her delicate wrist and yanking her to come with her or by grabbing her hip and yanking her like that, she loves to do it. Though, her favourite perhaps, is to yank Faith towards her on the bed by grabbing her ankle

🪷Yes

An offer they can’t refuse- for Faith, this is a variety of things. She can never refuse when her lover rarely allows her to drop to her knees and eat her out, when she’s pushed up against a wall and feels the deputy’s greedy hands groping her breasts through her dress, or when the woman offers her a “break” whenever she moves into the Bliss

As it comes to the deputy, she simply can’t resist a thing Faith offers. A single inch of her dress being lifted is enough to spur her on, a teasing smirk or lingering touch enough for her to grab her angel and take her to an unoccupied area

🌼 Z – Zzz

🪷Zzz

Faith is by far more tired after sex than the deputy, though she usually gets her lover to lay down with her after, strong arms wrapped around her protectively, a knife held in the woman’s hands just in case as she gets ready to sleep, too

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 21

Masterlist

Summary: Thanks to the Admiral pulling some strings y/n is discharged from the hospital right into the care of Bradley and Jake.

Trigger warnings: 18+, minors DNI, mentions of death, nightmare, injuries, soft Jake, crying, throwing up, pain

A/N: It took me very long to get this one out and I'm very sorry. Had an operation on my eye and I felt very exhausted for weeks. But enough of me: HERE IT IS! Thanks for reading and supporting my silly little story <3 I didn't read it very thorough for detecting mistakes, so sorry when there are too many.

Word Count: 6.7k +

The smell of the room is the first thing y/n notices when she slowly comes to. It's a clean odor with a hint of alcohol and gauze. Y/n knows that smell, she knows the feeling of the scratchy sheets, she's familiar with the noises coming from the busy hallway. The bright light hurts her head when she finally blinks her heavy eyes open. Is she back in the hospital when her ex tried to stab her to death? Was it all a dream and she's still in her hometown, in the hospital where she was some kind of regular, afraid Michael will step foot into her hospital room any minute? A moan is tumbling out of her sore throat. Her whole body hurts. Y/n's head is throbbing painfully. She still feels a painful tightness around her neck like there are still hands wrapped around it. She takes stock of her other injuries. Her lower back is on fire, like the first time when she woke up from the operation she had on her kidney. Her whole side hurts like hell like she was overrun by a truck. Blinking her eyes she tries to focus on her surroundings. She sees a figure in the corner of the room. He is here. Michael is here. Once again he plays the role of the caretaking boyfriend and told the story of the clumsy girlfriend. Probably she fell down the stairs. She knows these kind of stories he always tells the hospital staff. Another whimper can be heard in the room such as the heart monitor's beeping which is alarmingly increasing, signaling y/n's elevated heartbeat. The dark haired figure approaches the young woman's bed. Y/n can't help it but tries to sit up, she feels to vulnerable in the laying position. Probably Michael will give her an earful for being so whiny that he had to take her to the hospital for the ridiculous scratches he inflicted on her. Out of pain she pinches her eyes shut. Y/n doesn't accomplish to sit up in the hospital bed, too weak and the pain too prominent to make a proper move.

"Hey, Princess. It's okay…" She can hear the dark figure talk to her. The voice so soft and warm. This can't be Michael, he would never call her Princess or talk to her in such a caring voice. Cautiously she opens her eyes when she feels a warm and strong hand softly stroking over her hand which doesn't has an IV in its vein. Bradley, the dark figure in her hospital room is Bradley. She isn't back in the hellhole of her hometown.

"Roo-y…" She breathes out, nothing more than a painful hoarse noise.

"Yes, Princess. I'm here." The taller man towers over her but not in a scaring way. She feels safe with the brunette aviator by her side. He bends down and places a soft kiss on y/n's head before he takes the place in the uncomfortable chair beside her bed.

Slowly but surely the memories are coming back into the young woman's mind. The reason why she's in the hospital. Welsh assaulting her, driving home, laying on the cold bathroom tiles, Jake and Bradley finally being back home.

"You're home…you're finally h-home…" y/n whispers before a painful sob escapes her mouth and tears immediately wetting her pale face. Without any words Bradley sits down beside y/n on the hospital bed, taking her in his arms, as cautiously as possible afraid he could hurt her. Bradley cradles y/n's head into his chest, breathing in the scent he fell in love with the first time he stood close to her. She fists his shirt into her hand afraid he would disappear any second, with her other arm she holds the side of the broken ribs. The slightly elevated position of her upper body is hurting her but she needs to feel the safety of Bradley's warm and broad chest. He lets her cry for some minutes until her breathing is slowly going back into a normal pace. He gently lies her back down against the pillow but stays seated beside her on the hospital bed.

"You scared us, Princess!" Bradley speaks with his voice full of emotion and eyes filled with unshed tears. He will never forget the moment he and Jake saw her laying on the bathroom floor, unmoving and pale like they were already too late.

"s-sorry…" The young woman slurred clearly exhausted even after she rested the last two hours.

"WE are sorry, Princess. Get some more sleep." The brunette says while stroking softly over her cheek.

Her eyes start to flutter but she fights against the exhaustion.

"Jakey?" Y/n asks in nothing more than a whisper. She misses her other boyfriend and starts to worry where he might be.

"He's on a coffee run, Princess. He will be back when you wake up."

In fact Jake talked to the Admiral and to Mav and is now outside to cool off. His rage is over the roof, he's never felt this huge desire to kill someone. In case he gets this Welsh guy into his hands, the perv is not going to last long. He touched, harassed and hurt their girlfriend. He tried to rape her and now she is in the hospital with severe injuries. He has no right to live any longer if you ask Jake.

---

Y/n tried to fight off sleep for nearly ten minutes but the pain and exhaustion are clearly visible on her pale face. But she needs to see Jake. She needs to know that he is okay. The overwhelming fear to lose Jake because he can't handle the situation or worse, he is distgusted with her, is keeping her awake.

"Brad- Roo…" Y/n whispers to get Bradley's attention.

"Hey, Princess. You still with me?" The brunette pilot looks up from his mobile and directly in the painfilled eyes of his girlfriend. "You okay? Are you in pain?" Bradley slightly starts to panic when he sees y/n's shaking hands which are resting on top of the scratchy hospital blanket.

"J-jaake…" Pain and exhaustion and the fear for her other boyfriend are too prominent in her brain that building a coherent sentence seems too difficult for the young woman. She just needs both her boyfriends and she wants to go home. Too bad are the memories she has from her last stay in the hospital. The sterile white room in the hospital in her hometown was a lonely jail cell for her. The nurses, doctors and her boss were her only visitors. The trauma of being hurt and alone is making her increasingly panicky.

"Please…" Y/n whines. It brakes Bradley's heart even more to see his girlfriend so desperate and in pain.

"I go get him, okay Princess?" Despite Bradley's grasp for the situation, hell he is just in as much rage as Jake, but he needs to get Jake's ass in this hospital room before y/n works herself up even more.

Pain and exhaustion is quickly replaced by pure fear. Y/n eyes always seem to be the key to her soul and Bradley and Jake learned to read her easily over the last two years they lived together but now it's like her eyes are screaming agony and fear. He feels a cold and shaking hand grips his wrists tightly.

"D-don't leave me, please. Don't leave me too…" y/n begs him with her eyes wide open. Does she really think Jake left her? Just another reason for the brunette aviator to find their partner and bring him to their girlfriend before this situation gets out of hand.

"Princess, hey look at me." He softly puts his thumb under her chin and strokes her pale cheek. "We're not going to leave you. We are here for you, no matter what! We love you."

"J-jake went away…" She looks confused with her eyes now glazed over, the fever hitting her full force one more time. Bradley feels the heat radiating from her face into his hand. Y/n clearly thinks Jake left her after what has happened to her.

"Oh baby. He didn't left us. He just had to take care of some things. I'll be back with him okay? I hurry up…" He slowly stands up and strides to the door like a man on a mission.

---

In the distance Bradley can make out the tousled blonde hair, which is under normal circumstances perfectly styled. Today it looks like it has been attacked by all ten fingers of the aviator pacing in front of the glass doors of the ER.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bradley's harsh words interrupting the pacing pilot. Bradley understands the turmoil Jake finds himself in right now. He feels the exact same but Bradley accomplished to prioritize and puts y/n first and didn't let the rage he feels become the better of him.

Jake immediately turns around when he hears the strained voice of his partner.

"Is Y/n okay?" Is the first thing Jake has in mind. Why is Bradley here and not with their girlfriend? Something must've happened that the brunette pilot left y/n's hospital room.

"No, she's not okay, Hangman. She is exhausted, in pain and traumatized and she thinks you left her. So instead of swaying your cocky ass out here you could be with your girlfriend who is on the verge of a panic attack." Now it was Roosters time to blow off some steam.

Jake drops his gaze, his shoes now the most interesting item in the waiting room. He knows he has to be with her. He wants to be with her, but his rage was so overwhelming that he thought he couldn't stand the sight of their girlfriend, hurt and in pain.

Bradley takes a step closer to his partner and squeezes his shoulder in a soothing manner.

"Hey. I'm sorry… I know you're just as concerned as I am. But please, she needs us both right now. Let the team and the military police look for that son of a bitch."

---

The guilt really hits Jake hard when he opens the door to y/n's hospital room and sees his girl silently crying. Her wet cheeks flushed from fever her eyes glazed over. With shaking hands she tries to dry her wet face but she is startled when she hears the door to her room close. She sees the blonde aviator drawing closer to her. But she can't believe her eyes. By now her feverish brain told her the story of her being alone again, Bradley and Jake away living their peaceful life without her seemingly increasing baggage.

Y/n looks like a dear in the headlight when she finally feels the comforting touch of the blonde Navy man.

"Cupcake. I'm here now, I'm not gonna leave you." He grabs the hand without the IV line and places a soft kiss on her warm skin. Y/n shudders from the soft touch of Jake's lips. Behind the blonde man slowly approaches Bradley, relieved to see his two partners now finally together and y/n calmer than previously without Jake. 

"Sleep, babygirl. Roo-y and I will be here when you wake up." Finally y/n can let the exhaustion and the medication take over and her glassy eyes fall shut.

---

"She still asleep?" Bradley whispers when he enters the hospital room with two steaming hot cups of coffee. Jake and Bradley were allowed to stay the night in y/n's hospital room, after the Admiral pulled some strings at the military hospital. It was absolutely not negotiable that either Jake nor Bradley leave y/n alone in the night. Due to the heavy medication to keep the fever and the pain in check y/n slept rather deep despite waking up from two nightmares and the fear of being alone in the sterile atmosphere of the unkown hospital. Fortunately both pilots were able to calm her down quickly.

Now shortly before the medical round of the head physician and the assistant medical directors they have to wake y/n up to check if she's more coherent than yesterday.

"I talked to the doctor and the Admiral just now, we can bail her out when her fever is down. They want to keep her for more days but the Admiral gave us the support to take her home. For the sake of her recovery and for her safety. I made it clear that she will be safer at home with us than here at the hospital." Bradley talks in a hushed tone not to disturb the sleeping woman.

When both men hear a faint whimper and the rustling of the sheets they both turn to look at y/n. She nearly looks lost in the hospital bed. The stark white sheets give nearly no contrast to her ghostly white face and her pale lips. Jake is the first she sees when she blinks her eyes open. A soft smile forms on her lips. Jake kept his words from the night. He is still here and behind him she can also make out another familiar figure. She is not alone like the other times in her past that she woke up in a hospital bed. But this time she is not alone. Jake and Bradley are still with her.

"Good morning." She whispers with a smile on her lips despite her still aching throat.

"Good morning, baby." Jake says between the kisses he places on her small hand. "What's that smile?" He asks in his cocky and flirty tone she loves so much.

"Missed you both, now you're back and I'm happy." Y/n croaks out, her voice breaking at the end of the sentence. Jake bends over her laying body and places a soft kiss on y/n forehead and lingers there a bit longer than necessary to feel her temperature. She seems more coherent than yesterday and her temperature also seems to be down. Jake wanders further down and places his plump lips cautiously on y/n's. He feels her smiling into his lips and hears a faint giggle. How he loves the way she giggles shyly when he kisses her.

"Hey, getting cozy without me?" Bradley talks rather amused and strokes his warm hand over y/n's tousled hair.

---

"Mrs. Y/ln due to the blunt trauma you suffered from a kidney contusion, blood in your urine such as nausea and pain is highly to expect in the next days and weeks. Fortunately your fever is currently down but you still have a slightly elevated temperature which is also common with your patterns of injury. Your broken ribs stay taped to keep them in place and reduce the pain. But I recommend regular intake of pain medication. The CT showed no bleedings, but the minor concussion can trigger headaches and dizziness. Your bruised throat will be uncomfortable for the next days but fortunately there is no damage to the vocal cords or the trachea." Y/n tries to listen carefully to the doctor who explains the extent of her injuries now that she is conscious and fully awake. Her whole body aches but there's nothing more than the wish to be discharged. She wants to go home, to feel the safety of their cozy house. That's reason she puts on a brave face.

"Under other circumstances I would keep you here, Mrs. y/ln, for at least two more days, but the Admiral and the two Lieutenants talked to me…" the doctor looks up from y/n and over to the two fidgeting and attentive listening pilots, "…and they all assure me and my colleagues that you will be in good care at home. Still we will stay in contact especially due to your kidney damage. So the nurse will get your discharge papers, medications and instructions ready and when you finish the IV you're free to go." The doctor explained politely.

---

Even though y/n wants to leave the hospital walking with her head held high she knows that it's either the wheelchair or one of her boyfriends carrying her to the car. Getting dressed in her own clothes, a soft leggings and one of her favorite hoodies from Jake or Bradley, she doesn't care, was her first obstacle. Her whole body hurts, the broken ribs screaming in pain and her bruised kidney is giving her a burning pain in her back let alone the dizziness from her concussion. She feels like her body is betraying her, it's a long time ago that she felt so physically weak. Even with a bad migraine attack she has some strength in her but now she feels like she could sleep for weeks, walking for more than some shaky steps seems too far away right now. Fortunately Bradley helped her with the ordeal of getting dressed while Jake organized a wheelchair and got some final instructions from the treating physician.

When she finally is fully clothed Bradley softly sits y/n back on the bed, waiting for Jake and the wheelchair. Before he can turn around and gather her personal items and the flowers and cards the Daggers send her, y/n grabs the brunette's hand to gain his attention.

"Thank you." She croaks out, "for taking me home. I know it's a lot and I'm so sorry…that you two have to deal with my mess after coming back home from deployment." Bradley softly shushes her by putting his forefinger on her plump lips. He lowers himself down, kneeling down in front of his smaller girlfriend.

"Princess, we would move Heaven and Hell for you. We are happy to take you home and take care of you. We love you!"

The door quietly opens with Jake stepping into the small hospital room. "Going down on your knees, Rooster? You couldn't wait until I'm back with both of you?!" The cocky pilot chuckles and squeezes the other man's shoulder.

---

"You wanna ride shotgun, shortcake?" Jake asks as he stops the wheelchair in front of his truck in the hospital parking lot. They finally managed to leave the hospital, excited to drive home to their cozy and warm house.

"Ehm, can you- can you sit with me in the back?" Y/n whispers afraid she would claim too much. Just getting ready and sitting in the wheelchair drained her to her limits. She feels her head swimming and pain radiating from her chest travelling in every fiber of her body. The young woman needs the physical contact right now and someone who gives her the safety she craved for the last two weeks.

"There's no place I'd rather be, my love." Jake kisses her head softly. The last thing the blonde aviator wants is to leave his girlfriend out of his sight. He already noticed her glazed over eyes which seem like they would fall shut any second. In the back of his head he asks himself if this was the right decision to take the injured woman home with them, but she will be comfier at home and they can keep a closer eye on her at their own house. In addition to that the Admiral positioned two Sergeants from the military police to observe their home until Welsh will be found and locked away, just in case the maniac chooses to come back and finish what he started. The Admiral was devasted when Mav called him and told him what has happened at the base during his absence. He felt and still feels a huge amount of guilt that something horrible happened to his IT-specialist at his base. So he pulled every string he could as a damage control even if he knows that he will never be able to make this unhappen.

"Rooster, you heard the lady. You're driving." Jake tosses his car keys in Bradley's direction.

---

The drive from the hospital to their shared home is not long but Jake immediately notices that it is stretching y/n to the limit. Just minutes after Bradley sets the truck into drive the woman starts to shake in Jake's arm. He sits in the middle of the bench seat y/n tucked into his side. He supports most her weight but still it seems to be more than exhausting for her to stay seated.

"You okay there, y/n?" The blonde looks down at her shaking body asking concerned.

 A quiet "mmh" Is the only thing he can hear as a reply from his girlfriend.

"Just five more minutes, Princess. Then we're finally back home together." Bradley shoots a worried glance at Jake in the rearview mirror.

Sitting in the back of the moving car hasn't ever been so exhausting for y/n than today. As much as she wished to be home in one of her boyfriends beds, the car ride is getting more and more painful. Her ribs screaming in agony and her swimming head is making her nauseous to the point where she is sure that she will puke into Jake's lap in the next two minutes. She pinches her nails into Jake's thigh to ground herself. Just some minutes and she will be home.

"You heard Roo-y? Some more minutes cupcake." Jake places a soft kiss on the younger woman's now sweaty forehead.

He lets out breath of relief when Bradley finally parks the car in their driveway. Getting y/n into their house is now the only left challenge before they can finally be together. He holds the shaking woman longer in his arms and waits for his partner to get out of the car and open y/n's door.

"I got her." Bradley mumbles when he gathers his girlfriend into his warm arms ready to carry her inside the house. With no complain from their girlfriend of being carried he knows that she is in real agony right now.

---

When her dizzy head hits the soft pillow and her aching body sinks into the most comfy mattress she's ever slept on she knows that she's finally home, safe and sound in Bradley's bedroom. The mattress dips and she feels a familiar hand stroking softly over her pale cheeks. Her tired eyes opening just a little bit.

"Princess, I know you're tired but before you can go to sleep you have to drink something and you're also due for your medication. Are you in pain?" The brunette asks in a loving tone.

Y/n opens her eyes fully, but hisses when the bright light which filters through the windows feels like hot iron in her head.

"I guess that was a yes. Jake is just preparing everything for you." She feels the mattress dip and a soft but big hand which is stroking over her hurting head.

 "-m dizzy and nauseous…" Y/n mumbles when Jake makes an appearance in Bradley's bedroom.

"Sweetcakes, just a glass of water and your medication. After that you can rest." The blonde aviator says.

---

The bedroom door is slowly opened with a creak. Faint lightning shining from the living room illuminates the otherwise dark room creating a ray of light like a dim spot light. Jake wonders why the bedroom opens when he is blinded by the light falling directly on his face until a dark shadow appears in the doorway. Immediately he looks to his right side. Bradley and y/n are sleeping peacefully beside him. An intruder. There's someone in their house and this stranger is now creeping into their bedroom. The blonde aviator feels his heart quicken its pace hammering painfully in his ribcage. But his body feels like frozen on the spot, he can't move. He has to stop whoever intrudes their personal space, the peace of their home. His limbs are too heavy to move. The stranger takes a step closer and now Jake can see his face. It's Welsh. This bastard is brave enough to break into their home and comes back now that Bradley and him are already back home. Jake keeps struggling but he feels like glued to the mattress. He shout over to his partner. He needs to alert Bradley. They have to keep y/n safe, at all costs. But the brunette aviator just keeps sleeping peacefully and also y/n doesn't wake up from Jake's panic-stricken screams. Welsh looks him directly into his eyes, showing his teeth in an ugly smile looking like a predator eying his prey.

But he is not there for Hangman or Rooster. He is there for her. He is there to end this whole ordeal. He is going to end her. After all she is responsible that he is banned from a Navy Base once again.

Jake screams and struggles to free himself of the invisible power which seems to hold him in a vice grip. He sees Welsh's big hands embrace y/n's delicate neck. His fingers looking like small but dangerous snakes enclosing around her neck his big thumbs are pressing on her throat. Y/n's eyes fly open when she feels two strong hands cutting off her oxygen feed. Desperately she tries to shove away the big hands which are suffocating her. She struggles, kicks but the young woman grows weaker every second she can't take in a proper breath until she is not moving anymore. The intruder slowly releases his deathly strong hold he has on her throat and admires his handywork. Y/n's head falls onto her side directly looking at Jake. Her eyes staring deadly into his. He couldn't safe her.

---

A hard kick hits y/n on her shin and wakes her up immediately. She lays curled into herself on her left side. Her eyes fly open from the sudden pain in her leg and she is greeted with a kicking and struggling Jake. His limbs are tangled completely in the covers. A chill runs over y/n body. Jake must've stolen the blanket during the night is now tangled in it. The three always sleep with just two blankets, at least one of them is always sharing his blanket with their girlfriend. She never wakes up chilly without a blanket draped over her body. This night was a first. Another blow just misses her concussed head. She needs to wake Jake up before he hurts her or himself. With her cold hand she touches his bare shoulder softly stroking up and down. She ignores her stiff body and the still lingering pain in all her limbs and especially her lower back and closes the space between them to whisper into Jake ear. 

"No, STOP!" The blonde aviator shouts which finally wakes up Bradley who slept peacefully through the night mere seconds ago.

"Jakey…" she starts but when his knee hits her directly into her stomach she lets out a loud painful moan. The wind is suddenly knocked out of the young woman completely. In pain she pinches her eyes shut too weak to create more space between her and the trashing pilot she sinks back into her pillow breathing rapidly.

Bradley needs some seconds to gain his bearings. Jake is shouting, y/n is moaning in pain, what the Hell is happening? When he hears the heavy breathing of his partner and the faint shallow attempt of a breath from his girlfriend in their middle he immediately turns around. His eyes are landing on the trashing and kicking blonde. He jumps out of the bed and sprints to the other side of the bed falling onto his knees with a loud thud. His hands immediately holding Jake's shoulders in a tight grip to prevent the blonde pilot from trashing and hitting further.

"Jake. JAKE!" Bradley talks in a loud voice. "HANGMAN!"

With a loud gasp Jake finally finds an exit out of his night terror. He is breathing heavily on the verge of hyperventilating. He looks directly into his partner's face which calms him down just a little bit before the vivid memories of his dream crashing back into his conscious mind.

"It was dream. Everything is okay! We are at home." Bradley doesn't know what demon had Jake in its claws but giving him the information that they're at home was the first one that came into his mind to calm down his sweating partner.

"Y/n." Jake's eyes grow wide and he turns his head around. He needs to make sure that this was just a dream that his girlfriend is still alive and peaceful sleeping in their bed.

"Hey calm down, okay. Shhh, we are okay." Bradley soothes Jake. He doesn't want to y/n getting scared by Jake's outburst. In that moment he remembers her painful moan and her ragged breathing from prior. So he lets his eyes wander from Jake's slowly calming face further over onto the middle of the bed.

She still hasn't moved from her fetal position eyes still pinched shut.

The blonde pilot cautiously sits up to also check up on his girlfriend. His first priority is always y/n. After checking up on her he has enough time to process his nightmare.

"B-baby?" He talks into her direction still a bit out of breath but immediately calmer to not scare her even more.

The young woman is shaking violently in her fetal position her arms cradling her body, her trembling hands on her abdomen. A moan is tumbling out of her slightly open mouth.

Bradley crawls on the other side of their girlfriend stroking gently over her back after he turned on the lamp on his nightstand. Jake tucks some loose wisps behind her ear to get better look at her face.

"Cupcake. Are you in pain?" Jake asks in a low voice when he sees her pain stricken face.

---

The blow to her abdomen was really powerful. Her lingering nausea now back full force. She feels Bradley jumping out of the bed and sprinting to Jake's side. Good. He can calm him down in the meantime she can try to breathe away the pain in her abdomen and lingering her nausea. Felling the bile creeping up her sore throat y/n completely blocks out the commotion beside her.

She doesn't know how much time ticked away when she feels a tender hand tucking loose hair behind her ear. "Cupcake. Are you in pain?" y/n hears the soft voice of the hand's owner.

"I-I…throw up." Are the only words she can come up with when the remains of the last drink she had is slowly creeping up her throat.

"Gonna pick you up, baby." Jake warns her before he picks his shaking girlfriend up. With Bradley in front of them he cautiously brings her into the master bathroom and slowly letting her down in front of the toilet.

---

"Here, some ice water. Slow sips, Princess." Bradley hands her the glass with the cool liquid. Throwing up is always an act of unpleasantness but with a concussion raging in her head and her beaten und bruised body throwing up was excruciating. Y/n is more than thankful for Jake holding up her upper body and now supporting her back with his warm chest while she's sitting on the cold tiles and sipping the cool water her other boyfriend just handed her. With her other hand she still cradles the place where Jake's knees made contact with her abdomen.

When she finishes the half full glass of water Bradley is quick to take the glass from her smaller hand.

"Are you in pain, Princess? You still holding your hand over your tummy." Of course Bradley doesn't miss her cradling the painful spot in her torso. Both men know the exact amount of injuries she has, they both seem like to have studied her medical report and the discharge papers. So both aviators are clearly aware that y/n hasn't issues with her abdomen when she was discharged earlier.

The young woman moves a bit in Jake arms to be able to look at her blonde boyfriend, completely ignoring Bradley's question. She needs to make sure Jake is okay. He had a bad nightmare, she's never saw him that agitated during his sleep. Normally he is calm but light sleeper. It's easy to wake him up and he never moves this much. It must've been a really bad nightmare, maybe from one of their former deployments?

"Jakey, " y/n starts to talk the blonde man who held her in his arms and lays the hand which is not holding her painful abdomen on his chest, directly over his heart, "you had a nightmare. Are you okay? It was really bad, I wanted to calm you down but you didn't wake up. I'm so sorry, I really tried…"

Jake can't hide the astonishment in his eyes when y/n tries to make sure HE is okay. He only had a nightmare, she is the one hurt after all.

"Baby, I'm okay. Please tell us if you're in pain. Do we need to take to the hospital?" Jake shifts her body in his arms to get a better look at y/n's face and to look her into her eyes.

"You screamed and you kicked…it was bad, wasn't it?" In that moment something klicks in his Jake's still muddled brain. He kicked and hit, he lashed out. Of course, in his dream he wanted to protect their girlfriend. While his body was frozen on place in his dream, it was well functioning in the real world. He gasps when realisation hits him.

"Did I hurt you, y/n?"

Bradley watches the exchange with an anxious feeling in his stomach. Hopefully Jake can keep his cool despite him instantly blaming himself for hurting their girlfriend even if it was unintentionally during a nightmare. He strokes softly over Jake's bare back to give him some soothing support.

"Baby?" Jake tries again to get an answer out of his girl.

"It's nothing, Jakey. Please don't be mad. I tried to calm you down and well my stomach connected with your knee."

Despite the serious situation Bradley lets out a small chuckle. This is typical y/n, of course she would  never admit that one of her partners is to blame for a situation in which she is involved. Even if Jake kicked her with his knee she turns it around making it look like she is the one to blame.

Jake feels his heart make a summersault and he feels it instantly dropping into his stomach. He hurt the most precious girl he has ever seen. Fuck.

"Baby…" he breathes out, "please let me see." As tender as he can he peels away y/n hand and starts to pull up the shirt their girlfriend is currently wearing to inspect the place where he accidently kicked her. Bradley also bends over Jake's shoulder to get a look at the injured woman in his partners arms.

A sigh of relief can be heard in the otherwise silent bathroom when there's no bruise to be in evidence.

"It's nothing. It was just the shock and my sensitive stomach. I was nauseous beforehand and that was just the catalyst." Y/n tries to downplay the whole situation and before Jake is able to stand up and give her chilly body over to Bradley she lets herself fall into his chest embracing him in a tight hug. "I love you Jake. I know would never intentionally hurt me."

Bradley places a soft kiss on the blonde aviators head and envelopes him from behind. The three don't know how long they enjoy each other's closeness when Bradley speaks up.

"Let's take this into bed, my loves. You're both are going hypothermic on the cold tiles."

The brunette stands up and rounds the bundle of human body in front of him.

"Let me take her…" He hushes to the blonde man still sitting on the floor.

Rooster bends down and presses a tender kiss on the other man's lips before he picks up y/n and carrying her back to his bed.

Finally back in the warmth of the bed Jake is still deep in thought, the dream, him hurting their girlfriend, her getting hurt during their absence, until he feels a familiar cold hand stroking over his chest.

"Jaaakey…" y/n dramatically whines. She feels Bradley spooning her smaller body from behind, his broad chest deliciously flush against her back. But she needs Jake just as much.

"Please come over to us. We miss you and I'm still cold…"

"Yes, Jakey. You heard the lady. We're cold." Bradley teases his boyfriend. He is not going to give the blonde the chance to disappear into his head and brooding for the rest of the night.

Jake huffs annoyed but turns around either way and finally closes the distance. He presses y/n's head softly into his chest and kisses her on the top of her head. Reality settles its ugly face deep into his bones. He feels his throat closing and the first tear falling from his eyes on top of y/n head. Bradley props himself up on his elbow and catches some more tears which make their way down Jake's face.

"We love you, Jakey!" Y/n slightly slurs, visibly exhausted from the events of the night. Her head is swimming and pounding but she stays still, buried into Jake's chest. His nightmare clearly shook him to the core whatever it was about it must have been cruel.

Jake tightens his hold on their girlfriend. "He killed you." The blonde aviator mumbles into her soft hair.

Y/n gathers all her strength which is left in her exhausted body. Jake needs to talk about his nightmare, she understands that he is somewhat traumatized. She knows this kind of dreams. They can feel so real that it's difficult to separate them from reality even if you're already awake for some time. The pictures are still coming back and talking about it is the best way to store the cruel pictures into the last corner of the mind.

"We're here, love. Y/n is here, we're back home. And we protect each other. We are not alone." Y/n is relieved that Bradley rises to speak. Her throat burns from Welsh's attempt to strangle her and throwing up earlier made the pain only worse. She feels Jake shudder and releases y/n's body out of his tight embrace to look into her tired face. He cups her still flushed cheeks but looks up to Bradley wo lays propped up on his elbow behind their girlfriend.

"My dream…in my dream he…" Jake has to swallow, he doesn't to say the name of this bastard in their cozy and safe bedroom, anyhow both his partners know who is meant by 'he', "he broke into our house. He came into our bedroom, you both were asleep. But I- I heard him, I tried to jump out of bed, but I couldn't move…" his voice cracks a bit but he continues, "I couldn't protect y/n. I screamed for you, but he didn't hear me. And then he strangled her. Fuck…" Jake looks down into the eyes of their girlfriend, which are slowly overflowing with tears. Her heart is breaking of the blonde aviator. She doesn't want him feeling like this because of her. Jake gets lost in y/n's eyes. They're full of life and emotions, unlike her dead eyes which looked at him in his dream. "You died, right in front of me and I couldn't do anything."

Y/n is shocked how distraught Jake looks at her. Despite her being in pain right now she moves her right hand to grab one of his and slowly bringing his hand to her chest.

"Feel my heart? I'm here. I love you." Y/n wants to say so much more but she is growing weaker every second her sentence nothing more than a whispered slur.

"I love you, too Cupcake. Come on let's catch some sleep." Jake kisses takes her hand and kisses her fingertips and helps her to lay down properly. The blonde pilot tucks her into their shared blanket but y/n is already fast asleep.

"We're okay, Jake. This never going to happen again." Bradley whispers and places a soft kiss on the other man's delicious looking lips, he tastes hints of the salty tears which are already dried. They're going to protect their girl at all costs. Welsh is the one who has to look over his shoulder, their prey.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

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@abaker74

@crazyunsexycool

@itsarabellebabes

@lyn-js

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@gg-trini

[artpharos]

bedehop and 12 for the fic prompt?

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT I HAVE FINALLY OVERCOME MY WRITER'S BLOCK OF *checks notes* FOUR MONTHS BY WRITING THIS PROMPT

I'll maybe post this on ao3 when I wake up?? possibly??? if i feel like it????? anyway enjoy im so sorry it took so long WEEPS have 2k words of bede's insecurities and hop being best boy

Secrets Best (Un)spoken

12. “You could say I'm fond of you”

Hop always looks dashing in blue. 

Not that Bede will ever tell him that. He doesn’t need Hop’s head to get even bigger, but– well. It’s such an obvious thing that Hop’s handsome– beautiful, even; and especially so when his lithe form is wrapped in that soft shade of sky. Bede says nothing of how his breath hitches each time Hop glances up at him from where he’s seated in front of the mirror, nor the way his heartbeat jumps each time a soft jostle brushes underneath his fingers. Maybe speaking the words caught in his throat would make them less real, less dear to his heart. After all, Bede has learned that the only things others won't take from him are the ones that are hidden away, out of sight.

And a secret is only worth holding on to if it’s a secret, isn’t it? 

Unaware of his thoughts, Hop's reflection smiles in the mirror as Bede pulls a comb through dark night hair, gently working his way through the tangles left untamed. The blue suit rests easily across wiry shoulders, the silken cloth light against Bede's touch. It hides the well-toned muscles and rough scars that criss-cross the Hero of Galar’s body, the map of them another of Bede’s fiercely guarded secrets. The calm blue brings out the liquid gold of Hop's eyes, balances against the warmth of his skin.

Bede always prides himself for being meticulous when it comes to appearances. It’s one of the first things Opal drilled into him when she took him under her wing– how the way one presents often affects not just what people see, but what they feel. It’s the trademark of fairy Pokemon– to distract others with some glamour or spectacle, while hiding one’s real intentions underneath. Bede took to the concept like a Swanna to water.

Unfortunately, Hop is the very antithesis of that ideal– nervous energy taps his fingers, his expression wide and unguarded. Bede hates the idea of other people looking upon the beauty of his boyfriend, chiseled with maturity compared to the rambunctious brat he first met, but he can’t deny the bright sunlight that tingles warm on Hop's skin and crinkles in his eyes. Can’t pretend he doesn’t want the world to see Hop the way he deserves to be seen– brave and strong and warm.

Bede frowns, tugging the suit collar around Hop’s neck. 

“How’s it look?” Quiet, understated. Hop can see his reflection just as well as Bede does, but he asks anyway. 

“Terrible,” Bede bites back. He ducks his head, the shameful aftertaste of the word lingering on his tongue, the afterimage of a younger Hop flickering behind his eyelids– despair in dulled eyes flashing in the rain. It catches a vice around Bede's throat. 

Bede schools his features and loosens his grip on Hop’s shoulder. He tries– but it never really is enough, is it?

“Bede.”

Hop turns to face him, a worried frown marring his features. No matter how much Bede schools his face and flashes him a smile, golden eyes see right through him. 

“You’re upset.”

Bede sighs and puts the comb down. Warm fingers reach up and linger on his knuckles, even as he catches hold of himself chewing his lip in the mirror. Unbecoming. Too revealing. 

He pulls himself upright, the Fairy Gym Leader glimmering in his reflection once more. “You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly. “You are aware of that, right?”

Hop doesn’t have to walk by his side, to declare their relationship to dozens of hundreds of onlookers. Hop shouldn’t throw himself into the limelight, into the spectacle, with the world ready to tear him apart. Bede’s used to it, revels in it and lets the words glance off him, has seen way too many articles digging into him like vultures to a feast, but Hop–

Hop has always managed to run freer than he has. Sometimes, it makes Bede envious. 

And he never wants Hop to be told he is flawed, unworthy. Not again. 

Surely Hop doesn’t, either. It doesn’t make sense that he’d be sitting here with Bede now, with the taxi that will whisk them to the Galar Theatrical Awards probably no more than twenty minutes away, all dressed up in the best finery Bede could pull together, and yet–

Bede dips his head, slowly calculating a response.  

A soft sigh rumbles beneath his fingers. Hop reaches out to him, his sunlit touch pressing against the cool of Bede’s cheek.

Hop quirks a smile, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. “What, am I not supposed to support my boyfriend when he’s about to win the most prestigious acting award in all of Galar?” His expression softens. “What’s this about, Bede?”

Bede can’t bear to hold that golden gaze. “They’ll eat you alive,” he says. “The media, the crowds. They'll look at you and say, “how ridiculous– the Hero of Galar, all dolled up as the Ballonlea Gym Leader’s new toy”.”

Hop scratches his chin. “You’ve never had many toys before. Surely you can afford a few?” He chuckles at Bede’s scowl. Standing to face him fully, he ruffles through Bede’s perfect curls. “Really now, what’s planted that idea in your wooly little head? What, do you think I can’t handle a few journalists?”

“It’s not that.” Bede swats away Hop’s hand, clicking his tongue, refusing to fix his attention on the man before him. He knows what Hop is trying to do, but he refuses to acknowledge that happy, gentle smile before him. How can he, when he keeps seeing a dim illusion over those bright features instead, a shattered shadow he never wants Hop to become? 

How can he possibly explain the niggling guilt, buried deep beneath his mask of perfection, yet another secret he hides from even the man he shares his life with?

Then–

“Are you ashamed of me?”

The words are softly spoken, but they tear the breath from his lungs. 

“No, of course not!” He whirls to Hop, heart caught in his throat. “How could you even think–” 

“Bede.” Instead of accusatory disdain, Hop quirks a smile. “If you aren’t ashamed of me, then I don’t care what anybody else in the world has to say.” 

His golden eyes are calm, and his hand on Bede’s cheek is warm. So warm, so gentle. Understanding, quiet and soft, weighs like a blanket around his shoulders. Bede wants to lean forward, to be wrapped up in those steady arms he knows so well. 

Instead, he chews his lip, exhales as Hop waits so patiently in a way that is in such contrast to how he usually is– like Bede is someone worth making that effort for. Like Bede deserves it. 

“What do you see in me?” He’s asked this before, feels the bubble of shame welling up in his throat as he recites the practiced words. “What do you, and everyone else, see when you look at me?” He blinks his eyes rapidly, refuses to acknowledge the prickling at the corner of his eyes. “Because all I see in the mirror is the selfish boy who takes and takes and gives nothing in return.”

He doesn’t move, but Hop does. Hesitantly, his boyfriend steps forward, and even though he’s shorter than Bede, his broad arms encompass his shoulders– his entire world– as if it’s nothing, and Bede feels so small, so secure, pressed together in that steady warmth. 

“That’s not true,” Hop’s voice whispers in his ear. “Opal doesn’t believe that. I don’t, either.”

Bede’s fingernails dig into the new suit. He shouldn’t, but… he doesn’t want to let go.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“That’s silly.” Hop’s chuckle vibrates against his cheek, a hypnotic sound stopping Bede’s thoughts in their tracks. His boyfriend looks fondly up at him, a thumb rubbing reassuringly against his knuckles as he gently picks up Bede’s hand. “I’m a big boy, Bede. I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

His words fluster, and Bede shakes his head, any attempt at trying to hide his fears wiped away in the face of Hop’s unending faith. Instead, they tear out of him, pathetic and weak and nothing like all the masks he’s built around himself. 

“Hop, I– how can you want any of this?”

Hop chuckles. 

Despite himself, Bede flushes. It is a stupid question, when Hop’s presence is evident from everything around him. From the kitchen where they cook breakfast together, to the couch where they’ve spent many evenings talking side by side with their Pokemon– to the bed, where Hop holds him so tight, his warmth bleeds into Bede’s cold, hidden heart. 

“You could say I’m fond of you.” Gentle knuckles graze against his skin, and in that beautiful sky-colored suit and his golden eyes, Hop looks almost like something divine. Instead, he tucks Bede close to him as he says, “I want to be there for you, thick or thin.” 

But Bede will look a gift horse in the mouth, look into the dark and confront the ugly things hidden there, having been burnt by those who discarded him a time far too many to want to coast along the ideal make-believe. 

“Why?” he chokes out. 

“Because you’ve helped make me who I am.” Hop answers it so easily, as if those words aren’t leaden with the experiences of their shared childhood. “You always have.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Maybe Bede should push him away, but his hands dig deeper into that blue suit, and he presses his face into that familiarly warm, earthy scent. It does nothing to stop his words. “I was a mean, arrogant little prick that saw my failures in you, and in return, you gave me a second chance.”

“And I don’t regret that, not for a single bit.” Steady hands cup his cheek, nudging him to meet golden eyes. Hop smiles, unhurt, patient, soothing the jagged edges of Bede’s well-worn fears. “You gave me a second chance, too. To grow, and know you, and love you. To be loved by you. You see me now, more so than anyone else. And you’re trying to take care of me now, aren’t you?” 

“I’m clearly doing an awful job of it.” Petulance doesn’t suit him, but Hop laughs, as if he’s known Bede’s secrets all along. 

Maybe he has. The thought brings a strange sense of relief. 

Something must show in his expression, because Hop taps him lightly on the head, his smile all-too-fond. “You’re the reason why I want the whole world to know we’re together. No matter what they say, no matter what they think– I want them to know that we’re happy together. That you make me happy, and I hope… I do, you.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Bede exhales. “I’m ridiculous.” His shoulders sag.

“Hey, now.” Hop gives him a reproving pout, before he leans in close. Bede scarcely has any warning before Hop kisses him. Cups his chin, slots their lips together with practiced ease. He tastes of warmth and life, and once the surprise fades, Bede relishes the way it seeps through the very fiber of his being, unmaking his fears and cupping his secrets with a gentle hand. 

Hop always manages to keep him safe, doesn’t he?

Hop presses another kiss on his nose, his cheek. “You’re Bede. My beautiful, brave, brilliant Bede. And we’re going to go out tonight and watch the whole world acknowledge that, with me by your side.”

What can Bede even say in return? He huffs, pulling away as golden eyes linger on him. He reaches out, tugs the blue suit in place once more, smoothing out Hop’s hair. 

“You do make me happy,” he confesses. Then, since he’s sharing all his secrets anyway– he adds, “I love you, Hop.”

He supposes this is an ill-kept one. Hop hasn’t ever asked about it before, but he grins, before crushing Bede in his arms and ruining all the good work Bede had done earlier.

“I love you too. I promise– I’m not going anywhere, except out the door with you.”

Bede laughs, almost delirious and shaking with relief. He should scold his boyfriend for not taking care of his appearance, but Hop’s eyes crinkle with all the light of the sun as he wipes away the moisture at the corner of Bede’s eyes.

Bede huffs instead. Leans in close to study every facet of the man he loves. “You’re beautiful.”

A final secret, spoken aloud into the world, for the man that holds Bede’s whole heart in his hands. A secret that could fade into the nothingness, no longer treasured and loved. 

But Hop’s eyes light up, bright and golden, his smile trembling softly warm and shy. It suits him, precariously open and loving, brave and carefree, and the way he watches Bede is as if he’s hung all the stars in Hop’s sky.

Bede hopes, for Hop’s sake, maybe someday he would. 

The honk of a taxi interrupts the quiet ambience of their home. Bede almost trips over his own two feet, but Hop’s arm holds him steady as his boyfriend laughs.

“Looks like that’s us. Shall we go?” Golden eyes crinkle as Hop holds out his arm. “I can’t wait to see what the gossip column has to say about us tomorrow.”

Bede sniffs, reaching over to tug Hop’s tie in place one last time. His boyfriend still looks a bit more rumpled than he’d prefer, but the blue really does make him look good. “I should have known you to be a masochist,” he snarks instead. 

Hop wiggles his eyebrows. “Then you’ll soothe my poor, wounded ego when we get home, won’t you?”

Bede considers the question. “Only if you never speak a word of how much I dote on you.”

Hop nods solemnly. “My lips are sealed. Your secrets are safe with me.”

Bede knows. Still, he kisses him once more just to be sure.

[lindwyvrm]

[ GRANNVALE ]

Diamant had attended his fair share of galas and balls.

They were a frequent event in Brodia, one that Citrinne was always more than happy to drag him to even when he wasn't required to attend.

He wasn't much of a dancer, but he knew how to do it. Socializing always got exhausting after a point, but as crown prince—as king—he was expected to engage in many wars of words. But Diamant would much rather find a quiet place to fish, or the secret little spot in the castle gardens he always liked to retreat to.

But the ball was in full force, and so the mingling had begun. A few pleasantries here, a dance or two there. Switching partners endlessly in the fluctuating swells of violin and flutesong, until Diamant eventually finds himself partnered with a familiar face.

A welcome face.

"Ivy," His smile is warm as he takes her into his hold, perhaps more than he intends. "Always a delight to see you—truly. I'd much rather be dancing with someone I'm comfortable with than having to force a conversation with another stranger."

He pauses a moment, and adds, "You look great, as always. That dress suits you."

Wildly, ridiculously, Ivy wonders if he will like her dress.

Divinity, it is a schoolgirl’s sentiment—and she is a grown woman, the queen of a nation, and it should not matter to her whether or not he likes her dress but because he is her friend, nothing more, but Divine One, she really hopes he likes her dress.

It is quite the difference from gowns she has sported in the past—modest square neckline with a cluster of roses at the breast, cinched at the waist by a ribbon of dusty pink, skirt long and flowing and fluttering around her ankles. She feels as though she is wearing too much and not enough at all. The pendant remains a familiar, comforting weight around her neck.

She had expected—well, wanted—to hear from Diamant before the ball. Perhaps even presented with an invitation. But it does not come, and she had alighted upon the Adrestian coastline on her own. Eyes scan the crowd, skipping over the faces of those gathered, searching and searching for that familiar head of red, warm and gentle eyes the color of a hearth’s flame. She wonders if he is doing the same, looking for her face amongst the partygoers.

Eventually, he comes to her—dressed differently from his norm, too. Lighter, more casual, but just as—as strong, Ivy’s mind supplies. Regal. Kingly. Eyes drift toward the exposed hollow of his throat, the hint of collarbone as if magnetized before the sound of her name in his timbre makes her gaze snap back up.

“Diamant,” she returns, a smile of her own gracing her mien. She takes his proffered hand. “I am glad you find dancing with me so agreeable. Our state ministers are weeping tears of joy to see us get along so swimmingly. Though you cannot content yourself with my presence alone—forcing conversations with total strangers is half a king’s burden.”

She chuckles as they sway to the slow melody of the waltz. He holds her close. She could lean forward and rest her cheek upon his chest, press her ear there and listen to his heartbeat, feel the heat of him sear her skin. “But forgive me, let us not speak of duties and statecraft tonight. I must commend your actionability this year. I would not have minded having to ask you to dance again but, really, what would everyone else think to see you being led around by me?”

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

With the last breath II

Word count: 1200+

Warnings: none I can think of

Part I || Part III

This was supposed to be just a short paragraph of Azriel's POV, but on Saturday's night I sat down and started to write. And it turned into a whole chapter. Well such things happen 🤷

English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes 🙏

Azriel didn't bother to think things over. Not now. Y/N was safe in his arms, but it meant nothing. It could be late.. He didn't want to think about it because it would mean a great pain. Because it would shatter his whole being. He pulled her closer to his strong chest and rather concentrated on flapping his wings. He flew up back to the balcony she fell from. Anxiety was eating him alive so he couldn't wait any longer and needed to make sure. Slowly and carefully he put her on the floor while making a list of necessary steps to follow.

First step: check her vital functions. Holding his breath he lightly pushed two shaking fingers to the pulse point on her throat, soon moving them under her nose. When he was sure she was breathing and her heartbeats were steady, he sighed with relieve. Y/N was alive. Still alive. He felt a big stone falling off of his chest, suddenly feeling bit lighter. Azriel closed eyes for a moment exhaling shakily. He took several deep breaths trying to calm down the shiver and his too rapid heartbeats. He had to concentrate.

Second step: look for injuries. For who knows what reason she was unconscious. Y/N could have been hurt before she fell or during it. Carefully touching her body he checked her for injuries and fractures.  Another sigh of relieve left him as he didn't find any blood, lumps, bruises nor broken bones. Shallow breaths was the only abnormality he detected. After considering everything possible Azriel came to the conclusion that there is only one reason for this. Y/N had to pass out because she was scared. But why was there a smile on her face? It was so long since he saw her smile like this. It didn't make sense. Pushing it aside he decided to think about it later.

Third step: get her warm. Gently Azriel picked her up in a bridal style and took her into the House. He couldn't help it. His arms tightened around her flabby body. He always thought Y/N was petite, but holding her like this she seemed even more fragile and smaller. During joint dinners she ate so little that it made him worried whether she was enough fed. And now Azriel could clearly state that Y/N certainly wasn't. She was so light he could hold her in one arm without any troubles.

Standing in the corridor he hesitated. Azriel wanted to take Y/N to her room, but just then he realized he had no idea where to go. She lived together with priestesses above the library, but he'd never let himself nor his shadows enter their private part of the House. He also didn't want anybody to find out what happened to her for understandable reasons. It was up to Y/N to decide if she wants inner circle and others to know about it.

After debating with himself whether he should take her to his or some vacant room, Azriel decided his room would be better. Despite everything, nobody ever dared to invade his privacy without his permission. Not even his brothers.

He struck down the corridor while the shadows helped him opening the door and then closed it silently. They even rolled the covers on the bed aside and took out a blanket from his closet. They seemed to be just as worried as their master, lightly touching her skin and caressing her forehead. Usually Azriel would hold them close to his body, afraid they would scare Y/N or make her feel uncomfortable, but now he just let them do as they pleased.

Carefully Azriel laid Y/N on the bed and pulled the covers up, wrapping her tightly in. He stopped to look at her face. Y/N looked so beautiful and calm. How many times he imagined her in his bed.. Watching her peaceful sleep.. Touching her delicate skin.. Pressing her body to his.. And now she was here right in his bed, her scent mixing with his own. Azriel noted to himself to make sure the House doesn't change the sheets until her scent completely fades out and maybe not even then.

He reached out and tucked few stray locks of hair behind her ear. They were so soft, much softer than he imagined. Suddenly the realization of what he had just done hit him hard. After long years of dreaming he touched her. For real this time. And he even held her in his arms. Shocked Azriel retreated few steps from the bed, bumping into an armchair under the window. Slowly he sat down. His mouth went dry and his heart pounded like crazy. In disbelief he gazed at his scarred hands. As he finally processed that information, a small smile found its way to his face.

A glass of water appeared on the nightstand next to the bed. The House sent him a reminder.

Fourth step: hydrate. Even unconscious Y/N might be in shock and in need of water. He stood up moving back towards the bed and hesitantly sat down on the edge of the mattress next to her. Slowly Azriel lifted up her head, this time being well aware of every little touch. With heart thundering in his chest he enjoyed the sensation of her smooth skin and soft hair in his rough palm. Azriel wanted to memorize it all, so he could replay these feelings later. This was the first and most likely the last time he can touch her. Once Y/N awakes she would leave and avoid him as before.

He reached out for the glass and halted thinking about the best way how to get the water into her mouth. As unusual as it was, Azriel was nervous which caused a slight tremor of his hands. He didn't want to pour out the glass on her. If only there was a spoon. But it wasn't the only way. His gaze settled on her full lips. Sweet, lovely and gently rounded like two petals of pink rose. Breath caught in his throat as cold sweat ran down his spine. He felt torn. Should he ask the House for spoon or.. Azriel swallowed decided the guilt can torture him later.

He took water into his mouth, but ended up drinking it himself. He was too nervous. Taking several deep breaths he tried it one more time. Leaning over Y/N his lips pressed into hers. Little by little he let the water flow into her mouth. His eyes closed. 'Oh, Mother,' he cursed mentally. Literally everything about Y/N was much better than he'd ever imagined. Her sweet floral scent mixed with smell of old parchment and ink messed with his head and senses making him stay in this position even after all water was gone. Gods, if he could.. If only she allowed him.. Azriel rather pulled away before doing something really bad.

It was too many feelings and thoughts at once. He needed more space and time to think this all over. He didn't believe that he would be able to keep himself under the control near Y/N, so he retrieved back to the armchair under the window. There had to be some way. No way he could continue to live like before, to keep the distance. Not after he got to touch her and taste her.

The shadows swallowed Azriel leaving him to his thoughts.

[balljointeddragon]

You, Me, and the Future Ahead

A Paintedflame fanfic on Kit and Jentry spend their final days of senior year making choices that will affect their future.

“An art teacher?” Kit repeated, looking up from his homework.

Jentry rolled over on his bed, looking at him from across the room. She clutched a penguin plush, the same one from her Riverfork bedroom. She’d brought it with her to Kit’s place when she had started spending nights with him sometime during the start of senior year. What had started as study sessions that ran late quickly became movie nights and late night conversations.

“I think it would be fun.” She’d smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Teaching the next generation to draw, to enjoy it.”

She gave him a half-hearted shrug, pressing the penguin into her torso as she did so.

“More like teaching the new generation how to be tricked into drawing fanart of your favorite anime.” Kit smirked, earning him a pillow to the face

“Oh whatever!” She sat up, meeting his smug smile with an annoyed glare. “And what choices do you have? Are you going to become an actor and play every part?”

“They wouldn’t be able to afford me,” Kit replied dramatically, pressing the back of his hand to his head.

“The people running the movies?” Jentry’s tone was skeptical.

“The industry.” Was Kit’s response.

Jentry pushed herself off of his bed, abandoning her penguin companion. She hurried over the cold tiles of Kit’s bedroom, finally reaching the rug that rested under his desk area and wrapping her arms around his neck as she began looking over his own list of possible career choices.

There were multiple lists; one was a list of careers he would hate. Another was a list of ones he would adore, with pros and cons for each option. The one he held in his hands, and the one that Jentry plucked from his fingers, was a simple list with some options crossed off and others circled.

“A mortician?” She sounded confused, turning to face him in bewilderment, but he shook his head.

“I thought about it, but that’s not a good career path I want to get into. Yo- I’ve seen enough death.”

Jentry watched his expression - his lips were pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowed, his jaw clenched. Even his eyes appeared distant, reliving memories that he had clearly not wanted to remember. Seeing Kit like this upset her, made her hold him even tighter in an effort to silently reassure him that she would still be there.

He touched the arm around his neck, wrapping his free hand around her waist. He pulled her closer to him, resting his face in the crook of her neck and breathing in the latest perfume she was trying out. It was a good scent, some sort of cinnamon and vanilla, but it didn’t match her.

They readjusted themselves to allow Jentry to sit on his lap, reading his list quietly while he rubbed circles into her sides with his thumb. Kit leaned his head on her back and closed his eyes, feeling both exhausted from the intensive career-searching and excited at the prospect of his developing relationship with Jentry.

Jentry sighed.

Her heartbeat was loud and steady. Reassuring. Without even needing to use his vision, he could map out where Jentry’s qi was, trace along the paths and sense if there were any disturbances. His pointer finger trailed one path, making her giggle softly.

Jentry’s qi… warm with a strong flavor that Kit couldn’t quite seem to place. Not unpleasant, but something that would take some getting used to.

So many things have changed…. Has it really only been a year?

He’d known her for so long by now that he felt he knew everything about her - at the same time, he felt like he knew nothing at all, especially when it came to how she felt about his status as a Painted Skin.

Jentry eyed the final and newest option, the one he’d been debating on when she’d broken their comfortable silence to mention becoming an art teacher.

“I think you’d make a good doctor,” she said as she set the notepad back on the desk.

“You think so?” He hadn’t thought of becoming a doctor seriously. It was more a shot in the dark, based on his huge collection of books regarding human anatomy - all for the purpose of improving his skins.

“I know so.” She squirmed in his grasp, trying to face him; he tightened his grip instead, chuckling at her attempts.

“Well how can I not become a doctor when my girlfriend told me I would become the best doctor ever?”

She grew flustered. “I didn’t say that! Kit!”

“So I won’t be a good doctor?” He pretended to be hurt. “I can’t believe you’d say that, Jentry.”

“Kit!” She was trying to hide her smile, but he noticed the corners of her mouth twitching despite her frustration and annoyance.

Her continued protests fell on deaf ears as he laughed. She continued to squirm, finally escaping his embrace to properly face him. She made no move to leave his lap, nor did she attempt to leave his arms again when he wrapped her in a tight hug.

Something that hadn’t changed when they began dating again was that Jentry adored affection that Kit gave, with kisses being high on the list. It didn’t matter what form he took, especially once she became adjusted to his true form - kisses were kissed, and she loved them.

After another minute, he decided enough was enough and kissed her, the room falling silent as she melted into his embrace.

5 seconds, 10. 20 seconds and he felt the faintest sensation of trying to drain her qi. He pulled away, much to her displeasure, but she knew that it was for the best. They could kiss to their heart's content later.

Jentry’s hands ran through his hair, her pout melting into a soft smile as she looked at him.

“I know you’ll make an amazing doctor.”

He stared at her, feeling content for the first time in a month.

“I’m going to be in so much trouble - how can I say no to you?” He smiled, a goofy, love-struck smile. “… I’ll give being a doctor a shot.”

“You don’t have to.” Jentry lowered her voice to a whisper as she leaned her forehead on his.

“Well I want to.”

“Kit.”

“Jentry.”

They fell into a tense silence, Jentry believing Kit to be sacrificing what he wanted to do over what he figured she wanted him to do. It had been a common point of tension in not just their relationship, but their friendship as well.

“Do I have to remind you that I had written it on my list before you even got here?” He finally teased.

The tense silence was gone. Jentry sighed dramatically, leaning back to roll her eyes. Kit’s arms kept her from tipping back.

“Alright. But when you turn out to be a good doctor, don’t say I never told you so.” She stated firmly, poking his chest with her finger.

“Me? Disagree with the Jentry Chau? I could never.”

They both cracked up, the reverence in which he spoke of Jentry seeming absurd.

As their laughter died down, they settled against one another. Kit knew he should get back to his work, but he suddenly felt as if he was too heavy to move. Jentry clearly felt the same, laying against him in the chair and curling up.

Work can wait.

[iviarellereads]

Lord of Chaos, Chapter 10 - A Saying in the Borderlands

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dragon icon) In which that was horrific and I will not be taking questions about that statement.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand is in Caemlyn, where there are far too many little tasks to see taken care of in a day. Davram Bashere and Bael tell him of the unrest in the city, and the "miracles" attributed to him, like a basket of roof tiles falling off a roof and landing unbroken in the Aes Sedai symbol pattern. Rand knows they're not mentioning the opposite effects of ta'veren, like a man hanged from his kerchief when he stumbled and it caught on a door latch. Rand demands that they make it clear that doubting him is not a crime, to try to stop the violence against doubters.

Bael informs Rand that two Aes Sedai have taken rooms in the city, having arrived in the night. Rand decides to visit the inn and see what they're about. When he arrives, he finds in the common room several girls from Emond's Field on the way to the Tower for training. They tell him everything, more or less. Then Alanna and Verin enter, and interrupt the girls saying they're going to Tar Valon by saying not yet. Rand asks if they know the Tower's broken, then, and where the second Tower is. They usher him quickly into the inn's private dining room.

Only the three go in, and the women ask Rand what's been happening, since they still know almost nothing. Rand knows little more, and they all get a little worked up.

“It is foolish to treat us as enemies,” Alanna murmured, moving toward him. “You look tired. Are you getting enough rest?” He stepped back from her raised hand, and she stopped. “Like you, Rand, I mean no harm. Nothing I do here will cause you any injury.”(1) Since she had said it straight out, it must be so. He nodded, and she raised her hand to his head. His skin tingled faintly as she embraced saidar, and a familiar warm ripple passed through him, the feel of her checking his health. Alanna nodded in satisfaction. And suddenly the warmth was heat, one great flash of it, as if he stood for a heartbeat in the middle of a roaring furnace. Even after it passed, he felt odd, aware of himself as he never had been before, aware of Alanna. He swayed, head light, muscles watery. An echo of confusion and unease rang from Lews Therin. “What did you do?” he demanded. In a fury, he seized saidin. The strength of it helped hold him upright. “What did you do?”

They try to shield him, but he’s too strong, and shields them instead. Verin clarifies that Alanna has bonded him as one of her Warders.(2) Rand is furious, he walked into this trap like a puppy. He tells them if they're not going to Tar Valon, they can stay in Caemlyn, but the inner city is closed to them. If they try to come near him, he will shield them from the Source, tie it off, and leave them in a dungeon. They agree, almost meekly.

Rand exits the private dining room to find the EF girls angry that people are calling him the Dragon Reborn. He says he is, and channels Air to lift them off the ground to confirm it. He shouts at them that denying won't change it, until Alanna points out he's scared them all senseless. He lets them go gently, apologizing. They flee to the other side of the common room. Bashere gently suggests it might be for the best.

Rand nodded slowly. It probably was. Best that they wanted to stay clear of him. Best for them. He just wished he could have talked a little while longer about home. A little while longer with them seeing only Rand al’Thor. His knees still wobbled from the bonding, but once he began moving, he did not stop until he was back in Jeade’en’s saddle. Best that they were afraid of him. Best that he forgot the Two Rivers. He wondered whether that mountain ever got lighter for a time, or only kept on getting heavier.(3)

=====

(1) Yeah, so, all that about it being taboo to bond Warders against their will, without their consent? Goes right out the window here. The fuck is wrong with you, Alanna? She didn't even have the excuse of it saving his life, like Birgitte and Elayne. Just up and hi, we're now bonded closer than soulmates, nice to finally meet you properly! This is a rape, it's a violation of Rand's autonomy not only of body but of soul. "No injury" my ass, but of course, she doesn't see it as an injury to anything but his pride at most. (2) And without his permission, the very thing she said previously in Emond's Field to Perrin that she probably wouldn't do. (3) Sorry, bud, You've got so many more books to go before you get to think about chilling. Your author just had really, REALLY optimistic timelines about his writing ability.

[deatheless]

@curseplay sent: 81﹕ sender  helps  receiver  [ style ]  their  hair. / accepting.

she hadn't meant for it to become such a big deal. it wasn't, after all, not in the grand scheme of things, but : well, there's only so much you can take before the littlest things send you reeling, right?

it was just too fucking hot. and no matter how many ways she tried tying her hair up, it would always eventually escape — from all the running, from all the water, from the sheer weight of it all when saturated with all the fucking humidity, and it would end up whipping her in the face, or curling around her neck and itching the collar of her wetsuit, or in one horrifyingly embarrassing moment, literally tangling her into tree branches after her ponytail had come loose in the storm. combined with the nightmare that their very special arena had very quickly turned into, it was all starting to make her twitch.

but after everything, of all things, it was a botched braid that set her off : she'd reached all the way down to her ends, fingers twisting the hair hanging by her waist, when andie had leaned over from where they were sitting next to her on the sand and pointed out that she'd missed a strand, hooking it around their finger and following the length of it down. at the feeling of their knuckle brushing the back of her neck, and the tickle of the loose hair strands moving against her scalp, her breath caught in her throat, and something cracked. before she knew it, she was standing, a tight, breathless feeling twisting up her insides and sending her heartbeat pounding in her ears. andie's mouth was open, probably about to offer to fix it for her, but mina didn't give them the chance, already stumbling her way up the sand towards the trees. she was overreacting, she knew she was, but she just — she couldn’t —

she had to get it off. it had to go, it had to, she just couldn't keep fucking doing this. her own knives wouldn’t be sharp enough, they weren’t designed to cut, so she needed — something else.

the rest was a bit of a blur, eyes stinging and static in her ears and fingers closing around what she eventually realized was paris' machete as she stalked off into the quiet of the trees, the confused voices of her friends ringing distantly behind her. once under the cover of the trees, she’d dropped to her knees, roughly grabbing a chunk of her hair and immediately putting the machete to work.

it’s only when a pair of strong arms suddenly encircle her, one arm tugging her close as the other gently rests gently against her vice grip on the machete, and a soft voice, gentle and warm as though speaking to a spooked animal, sounds in her ear, that she blinks back to herself. that she realizes she really almost lost it there, and over something so stupid. despite the warmth of paris' body against hers, the realization leaves her cold, and an uncomfortable chill pricks at the back of her neck. paris all but tugs her into their lap, taking their knife back into their own hand. it only takes a second of looking at her, at the curls spread across the dirt around her, before they pick up another handful of her hair, and much gentler than she’d been doing, begins to cut through it. mina’s fingers curl against her thighs with the desire to hold something. slowly, the anxiety winding suffocation - tight around her heart begins to unravel.

❛ thanks, ❜ she mumbles, eventually, a quiet shame starting to burn into her cheeks. there's a love you sitting heavy on her tongue, but she can't say it. neither of them can, not here, not like this. she hopes paris can hear it in the weight in her voice anyway. mina reaches a now free hand up to press against the warmth on her cheeks, and it only deepens when she realizes the skin is wet, and that she must have been crying. she doesn’t know if she’s more embarrassed that paris saw her like this, or that all of panem did. the salt stings the tips of her fingers — she must have nicked them by accident. she didn't even notice.

( they'll laugh about it soon, when the two of them emerge from the trees to face andie, mina's hair cut to her neck and a handful of curls held in paris' fist, but for now, she's just tired. for now, she's just glad they followed her, because a part of her doesn't know what she would've done next once she’d finished with her hair. )