#should we worry about his threat right before he left though?

[spicylove4ever]

How did he know about that imperial law indeed....

But that's just me. He could have learnt by law lessons when he was young since the Grand Duke and all that.

[ayyy-pee]

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Summary: After waiting all this time to have you, Suguru finally gets to taste you in a whole new way.

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Fem Reader

** A sorta Part 2 of Do Not Answer **

Story Warning: Post Partum Sex, LACTATION KINK!!!, Smut, Milk Drinking (Suguru), Mutual Masturbation, Female and Male Masturbation, Profanity because I can only be me, Sprung Suguru, Primal Play/Marking, Creampie, A Sprinkle of Breeding Kink, Fingering, Fingersucking, Sensitive and caring Sugu, Needy Reader and Needy Suguru, Missionary, Cowgirl, Dripping Titties, Got Milk??, Threats of violence sorta, Domestic Suguru

WC: 5.6k

Divider Cred: @hitobaby

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Baby…”

“Suguru, I promise. I’m sure. I’m ready. Besides, the doctor said we could…” You loop your arms around his neck, watching worry etched across his face slowly begin to fade. “I’ll let you know if I need to stop.”

The deep frown lines between his brows disappear, expression softening as he peers down at you. Since you’d returned from your most recent appointment, Suguru had been on edge, tenser than ever. But that’s been his baseline mood for the last nine months anyway. Though, today was worse than others.

Suguru knew this moment was coming and on a normal day, he’d be looking forward to it. He’d be jumping for joy at the prospect of having you. However, all he can think about is how terrible he’ll feel if he ends up hurting you. He runs one hand gently along your thigh in soothing motions, and he’s not really sure if the act is to ease your mind or his.

You’ve been beaming, going on about doing this from the moment you’d left the doctor’s office, all smiles and eager eyes. Suguru told himself he’d resist, give you more time even as you chirped an excited “I can’t fucking wait!” in the car.

But as Suguru stares down at you, all soft and beautiful lying in bed in your cute little silk nightdress, he knows he’ll give in to you no matter what. He’s weak for you. Always has been. It’s why he couldn’t let you go when he’d left jujutsu society. It’s why he took the risk of trying to win you back.

And it’s easy to give you everything you want and more when you gaze up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. He really should have known from the moment he settled his hips between your legs that all you had to do was ask and he would be yours. It’s always been that way when it comes to you.

Suguru brings his face down to yours, runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours and like a reflex, you tilt your chin up to meet him. He watches your eyes flutter closed, lips pursed with anticipation. And just before your mouths collide, he stops.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks again, slight panic in his voice.

He’s certain he doesn’t sound like himself. He’s full of nerves, voice trembling the closer you get. But you roll your eyes playfully with a giggle and it calms him just a bit. “Suguru, just kiss me,” you whisper against his mouth. 

His lips meet yours hesitantly. His kisses are careful. Tender, like he’s afraid he’ll break you if he devours your lips the way he truly desires.

His hand squeezes your plush thigh and a soft whimper falls from his mouth and into yours. When you moan back into him, the sound sends tingles up his spine, making his legs shake ever so slightly. It’s been some time since you’ve made noises like that, and it does something to him. That, and the combination of your little makeout session currently happening. Suguru is struggling to keep it together. You’ve barely been kissing and he’s trying to resist pressing his hips roughly into yours. He so desperately wants you.

See– Suguru has been waiting months to be able to touch you like this again. To have you like this again. Nine long months actually.

Six weeks ago, you’d given birth to your son, the perfect blend of you and him. 

Your pregnancy had been unexpected and if Suguru’s math was right, he’s pretty sure it happened the night he’d crawled through your dorm window at the school and begged you to leave with him. It’s been almost a year since you’d abandoned all of your beliefs and hopes to fully stand alongside him as a curse user. 

After not being able to touch you for so long, just when he’d finally gotten you back, he found himself right back at square one.

But, the payoff was worth the wait. 

Not long after your defection, you’d come to Suguru in the early hours before he was to meet with the monkeys lined up outside the monastery. Your eyes were rimmed red, evidence of your tears as you stood before him. You looked ill, and you had been for some days. This had Suguru worrying. You’d been having such a hard time coping with the choice you’d made already. 

And it likely didn’t help that Yaga ripped you a new one days after your defection had become clear. Satoru had given you hell via text, promising to end you both if he saw either of you again. 

But Suguru could not have gave less of a fuck about his ex friend’s empty threats. He did, however, care about how much it affected you. It only took a few weeks for your health to decline, for you to be sick and in bed most of the day. Suguru truly believed this to be depression settling in for you. The same had happened for him. He couldn’t help but be concerned.

On the days you felt well enough to be out, you opted to be without him. And because old habits die hard, Suguru had of course had curses following you in the shadows. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything. Which was even more worrisome to him.

Where was the fiery attitude he so loved about you? Where was the woman who gave him absolute hell if he overstepped?You were nowhere to be found.

His mind began eating away at him as he tried to find reasons for your sudden change. Perhaps you had decided to return to the school and  leave him behind again? Maybe you were beginning to regret your choice… Regret him?

Well, that would just be unacceptable. Suguru could not imagine what he would do if this were the case. He’d already risked everything to have you again. To beg you to leave with him and give up all you’d known to join him in his fight. It still took convincing even after you’d joined his cause. Now you may be entertaining the idea of leaving again?

Suguru lost his mind the first time he thought he lost you.

This time, he thinks he would destroy everything and everyone in his path if he lost you again.

Luckily for him, and everyone else, all of his worries melted away when you took his hand in yours, squeezing gently and told him the news. “I know this wasn’t the plan, Suguru. I know we were going to move forward with…” you paused, choosing your words carefully, because you never knew who could be listening. “Celebrating Christmas Eve.”

He knew what you were referring to, of course.

“I don’t care about any of that.” Because he didn’t. Even as his heart roared in his ears, all he could think about was the gift you were giving him; the blessing that was now going to be coming.

A child – His child. With you. The perfect heir to his legacy.

But pregnancy had not been good to you and you spent a good majority of it uncomfortable and sick. And so, Suguru had been reluctant to initiate intimacy with you. Not because he didn’t find you attractive anymore. It was truly the opposite. In fact, Suguru found you so incredibly enticing during your pregnancy that he was afraid he’d hurt you if you became intimate. He feared he would not be able to fight his urges to fuck you through the bed if he had you.

Seeing you all round and soft? It had his dick aching. He found himself showering three, sometimes four times a day, fisting his cock as he imagined all the ways he wanted to have you. It was embarrassing, the way his body reacted to the simple sight of you. So, he had to find some sort of outlet. You were already struggling so much with your pregnancy. He couldn’t add onto that, be the reason you had more discomfort than you were already dealing with.

Now, you’re six months postpartum and you’ve been an absolute angel. You’re glowing, the epitome of beauty, ethereal almost. Motherhood has only made Suguru fall even more in love with you. 

The doctor has finally given you the green light to be intimate again. Though, with a warning to be careful as the risk of becoming pregnant again is incredibly high right now. Somehow, the thought makes Suguru even harder if possible. Some sick part of him wants to bury himself as deep as possible. Breed you again and again. Pump you full of his seed and have you round with him as many times as he can. 

A tiny groan escapes Suguru as he deepens the kiss, lips slotting sloppily against yours. Every moan he pulls from you is making it more and more difficult for him to resist pressing his hips against yours, strip you of this flimsy little fabric and make love to you until you can only think of him. The same way he only thinks of you. His hand glides up your smooth thigh, slipping beneath your gown and up to your waist. 

He finally breaks the kiss, and the gentleness does not make a bit of difference because you’re both left gasping for air between each other. Suguru’s eyes roam down your body ravenously, every new dip and curve gifted to you by your newfound motherhood so goddamn enticing. Even moreso, when he feels it…or doesn’t feel it, rather.

“You’re not wearing panties,” he mumbles, more as an observation than a question. He pulls his hand from beneath your dress to glide over the smooth material of your silky gown along your stomach, up to the valley of your breasts.

You shake your head, a cheeky grin spreading along your face. “Didn’t think I’d need them.”

Suguru hums, hooking a finger into the cup of your gown and tugging down. He watches with heated desire as your supple breast falls free from its confines. So round and full. He can’t help but run his tongue along his lips.

“Did you pump before bed?” He asks. He cups your breast gently in his palm, biting down on his bottom lip when you sigh a soft no, followed by a quiet gasp. Suguru clicks his tongue, delicately squeezing the tender flesh and honing in on the small pearlescent bead of liquid that forms at the tip of your pert nipple. His heated gaze watches as your eyes fall shut, back arching as you press your breast further into his touch.

Suguru has watched you pump many times. Watched you breastfeed and has always wondered about this–what it tastes like. It’s not as though he’s picky when it comes to ingesting things. He’s a curse eater, after all. He’s sure your breast milk tastes heavenly. Everything he’s tasted from you has never been anything but delectable. But this…this is new. This is something he’s never had from you. But he will soon.

He must have every part of you.

“You okay?” Suguru asks, gaze locked on the warm liquid cascading down your breast. He meets your gaze and because you know him so well, you nod almost immediately. He dips down to wrap his lips around your hardened bud, pulling another sigh from you, a little louder this time. 

The rush of liquid filling his mouth surprises him at first, only for a second. Then he takes his time to taste you. Your milk is rich. Sweet. Buttery. But there’s an aftertaste there that’s so incredibly intoxicating, it has Suguru’s eyes rolling straight to the back of his head. It shocks him, the way this taste travels straight to his cock, and has him painfully erect to the point that he lets out a garbled moan against your breast. 

It only takes him a few seconds, after more than a decade of knowing you, training with you, fighting beside you that he realizes this taste is your cursed energy. And it has his dick is pulsing between his legs.

‘How delightful’, he thinks. To fully have you like this. To be able to literally taste the essence of your being. To consume what makes you superior to all others in this world. 

What makes you powerful. 

What makes you a sorcerer.

The thought alone makes him want to fucking cum in his pants right this second.

But he can’t. He needs to reel it in. At least, long enough to please you. He takes a deep breath, swallows what’s in his mouth. And just in time, because you roll your hips up into his and he has to pull back with a quiet hiss. The heat of your core meeting his clothed erection has his legs quivering already. It’s pathetic. 

He peers down at you, strands of hair stuck messily to his wet cheeks. Under the soft moonlight peeking in through your bedroom windows, he can just make out the way your chest heaves with shaky breaths, the slight parting of your lips as you stare lustfully up at him. His gaze trails down to your other breast, now soaking through your gown, your milk having leaked while he was giving all his attention to your other breast.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Suguru whispers sweetly, hooking his finger into the other cup and pulling it down. “I spent so much time on one, I forgot the other.”

His hand cups your soaked breast, a thumb brushing gently over your erect nipple and you gasp again.

“Sugu…” you whine, hands coming up to grab hold of his shoulders.

“You okay?”

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage, eyes fluttering closed as he tweaks your nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Sensitive.”

Suguru hums, slowly brushing his thumb over your nipple again, groaning when he elicits the same reaction from you.

‘So responsive’, he thinks. You’ve always been, but it seems you’re increasingly so today.

When Suguru slides his wet tongue over your nipple just before taking the peak into his mouth, you squeeze down on his shoulders, a choked sob falling from your lips.

“Oh, I love that sound you make,” Suguru breathes against your breast. He drinks greedily from you, savoring every little tingle the taste of your cursed energy sends up his spine, every little mewl you let out. He’s sure his skin is covered with goosebumps.

This must feel like sweet relief for you. Your body melts into his as he mouths at you, slurps you up, devours you and all you have to offer. 

You’re delicious.

And Suguru means that literally.

When your hands tangle in his hair and pull him up from your nipple with a loud pop, it’s only then that he realizes he’s been so focused on your breasts that he damn near forgot about you.

Panting, he stares down at you. He’s certain he looks all kinds of disheveled – lips swollen and glistening, chin dripping, eyes glazed over.

And you, you only stare back at him lovingly – eyes full of arousal, hungry and wanting, lip swollen from biting down on it in attempts to stifle your moans. You bring a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently. You swipe your thumb along his chin, collecting whatever liquid resides there. It’s sweet, cute that you’re wanting to clean him up. But then you press your thumb to his lips, your mouth falling open as you slide the digit past the threshold until you reach his tongue. You peer up at him expectantly. So Suguru wraps his lips around your thumb and greedily sucks the remaining drops of your milk from your thumb.

Your other hand wraps around him, fingers delicately tracing a line up and down his back and Suguru releases a muffled groan. 

“I want you,” you whisper and you grind your hips into his again. He can feel your arousal through the fabric of his boxers. He can’t even stop his own hips from rutting desperately into yours and you whine softly, “Please.”

He can hear the desire in your voice. It shoots straight to his dick and the throb that follows has Suguru wincing.

There you are. There’s his girl. So fucking needy for him like you’ve always been. He loves it when you get like this. And it’s been so long since you’ve begged for him that he has to resist yanking his pants down and sliding right into your dripping cunt.

He’s so hard for you, wants to fuck you until you can’t stand. But he has to remember, you may not be ready for that. He needs to be careful with you, take his time so as to not hurt you.

“You sure?” He asks, just one more time. For his own peace of mind.

You fix him with a deadpan look, much like the one you gave him the night he’d climbed through your window and threatened to splatter your little boyfriend’s insides along the streets of Tokyo.

“Okay,” he acquiesces, a small smirk playing on his lips. He loves your little attitude.

He’ll take his time with you, let you get used to this again because god knows he’s gonna need a second or else he’ll be losing himself to you in no time. He dips his head down, lips finding your neck and pressing soft kisses before he lightly sucks at your skin, making quick work of leaving a mark.

In the morning, when you’re getting ready for the day, he knows he’ll receive your wrath and it will have been worth it. Suguru loves to mark you up, though it pisses you off. He only cares that it signifies to everyone that lays eyes on you that you belong to him and him alone.

His possessiveness takes over, makes him bite down on the already tender spot on your neck and you cry out, which only makes Suguru moan against you.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he nuzzles against your throat, nipping and sucking lightly as he goes.

“More,” you whimper, and your fingers trace down his bare chest, along his abdomen until they reach the waistband of his boxers. You slip your hand inside, finding his cock with ease and wrapping your hand around him.

The sensation makes Suguru buck into your fist, a weak cry falling from his lips as he thrusts himself into your hand.

“Baby…” he whines into your neck. “Fuck, wait–”

But you don’t listen. You pump his cock, matching his rhythm as you throw your head back with a soft moan.

Suguru slips a hand between the two of you, cupping your pussy and groaning when he feels how soaked you are. It’s probably for the best that you ditched your panties tonight. He runs a finger through your folds, finding your clit and massaging circles around the sensitive nub teasingly.

You’re writhing beneath him, keening quietly into the air as you stroke his cock and let Suguru mark your skin as he pleases. He’s moved onto your chest now, lips back on your nipples and he suckles any drop of milk he can get from you.

The sounds coming from you are driving him insane. The sounds coming from him are almost foreign. He’s never heard himself sound like this before, so desperate, so needing, so fucking in love with you. He wants more, wants to hear more, wants to feel more.

He breaks free of your breasts and crushes his lips against yours. When you gasp in surprise, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth while simultaneously slipping a finger easily inside of you. Your movements pause, a sharp intake of breath making Suguru pull back.

“You okay?” He asks, panic clear in his voice. “We can stop.”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You begin pumping him again, smirking when you see the way Suguru’s jaw clenches, how his hips stutter slightly. “It’s been awhile. Keep going.”

Suguru is a little hesitant. This is exactly what he was worried about. He knew you weren’t ready. He should stop –

His thoughts are interrupted when you squeeze the head of his cock, his precum adding enough lubrication to make the sensation dizzying for him. He has to catch himself on his free arm.

“Goddamn,” he grits, pulling his finger back just slightly before burying it knuckle deep inside you again. “Fuuuucking stroke my cock.”

You have your fist tightly wrapped around his length, twisting and pumping him just the way he likes. Like you haven’t missed a beat. You gaze up at him, all flushed cheeks and eyes glazed over in bliss as Suguru slips one more finger into you.

“Like this?” You ask innocently and Suguru leans down to press a wet, sloppy kiss to your lips.

“Just like that,” he pants against your lips. “You’re s– ah – so good at that. Good fucking girl, ” he praises.

It goes on like this for some time, you and Suguru getting each other off. He feels as though his nerves are on fire, skin prickling as the pleasure begins to take over. He wants to cum so fucking bad. Wants to coat your little hand in his load and have you use it to keep jacking him off. But nothing is getting him off more than the idea of being inside of you right now. Though, he knows he’ll have to take it slow.

“I need to fuck you now,” he grunts roughly. “Need you so bad.”

He pulls his fingers from your core, chucking low when you whine at the loss. He reaches down to his waistband and you let go of him as he pushes his boxers down, working them off until he can kick them across the floor.

“You ready for me?” He asks, kissing you messily again. He settles between your legs, brows knitting when your bare cores finally meet. It’s so hot. Literally, he can feel the heat radiating from your pussy and the anticipation of your answer is killing him. You’re already drenched, coating him with your slick arousal. He wants to be inside of you. Please don’t deny him.

“I’m ready, baby.” You reach down between your bodies and take him in your hand again, position his tip at your entrance. “Please fuck me.”

He nods. Your eyes are locked as Suguru eases forward. It’s a tight fit, and Suguru doesn’t know if he’ll even be able to get all the way in without blowing his load.

“Oh god,” he groans. “Fucking tight as shit, baby. Fuck.”

He keeps going, pushing in and parting your walls with difficulty even though your core drips for him. It's as if you've gotten even tighter since giving birth. Suguru has to pull back slightly several times and try again before he’s all the way in. He has his eyes squeezed shut, fists clenching the sheets tightly. 

You whimper beneath him, hands having now found Suguru’s biceps and gripping on for dear life. It’s a slow, delicious, painfully snug journey through your walls. And when he finally bottoms out, he takes time to look at you. You’re biting your lip, breaths coming rapidly as you grasp onto him.

You’re so fucking beautiful like this.

He's embarrassingly hard. He wonders if you can feel it. He thinks you can, from the way you squirm beneath him.

“Good?” He asks, checking in again and you roll your eyes.

“Yes. Now fuck me.”

Suguru rears his hips back, watching as your lips part with a quiet gasp just before he rolls his hips forward. He does it again, just so he can hear you make that sound one more time. Then he does it again and again.

His movements are slow, careful. He gives you soft and languid thrusts that have you digging your nails into his arms, has him gritting his teeth so he doesn’t cum. He can hear and feel how absolutely wet you are with each agonizingly slow thrust. 

It’s driving him insane to be so gentle. He wants to fuck you so bad, destroy your little pussy, bury himself so deeply inside of you he can’t fucking see straight.

And it’s like you know this, because you whisper his name. When he looks at you, you’ve got a cute little pout on your lips, glaring up at him. He tilts his head questioningly.

“Suguru, stop treating me like you're gonna break me…” You loop an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a rough, sloppy kiss before pulling back just slightly to tell him, “...fuck me like you mean it.”

And he does. Doesn’t need you to ask twice. With a deep groan, Suguru pulls his hips back, all the way until just his tip sits inside of you. Then he thrusts forward, plunging into you over and over.

Each snap of Suguru’s hips brings a new sound from you. It’s music to his ears – this mix of your mewls, his grunts and moans, his balls slapping against your sopping cunt. He’s losing himself in you, the way he always does, swallowed by your warmth.

“Ah…I- I’ve been waiting so long for this, beautiful. Been craving this - ngh - pussy for months,” Suguru rasps, dipping his head down to find your breasts. He can already see the bruises forming along your skin from where he marked you earlier and it has him choking out a soft sob. He pounds into you hard, fast, chasing his high as he watches your breasts bounce with each thrust. “Missed your pretty little cunt. Missed fucking you so bad, baby.”

He licks a long strip between the valley of your breasts, eyes rolling to the back of his head and hips stuttering when he tastes the remnants of your breast milk from earlier. 

“Yeah, babe?” You ask, pressing your hands against his chest.

You move your hips against his, meeting every thrust eagerly and Suguru inhales sharply. “Fuck yeah,” he murmurs, kissing his way up to your lips. Just before he meets your mouth, you push against him and shift your weight, effectively rolling you both over so that you’re not straddling Suguru. His hands find your waist immediately.

“I missed you. So fucking much. Couldn’t wait to have you again,” you sigh as you lean down to kiss your lover. Your hips begin to move, grinding yourself down on Suguru. His back arches, the feeling of him tapping against that spongey in your walls completely overwhelming him.

“Shit.” Suguru watches you move your hips against him, feels his dick twitch within your walls at the sight. “Feel good, baby?” He asks. Because it damn sure feels good to him. Suguru thinks he may lose his mind just watching. You sit up and his eyes follow you, watching the way your kiss swollen lips part as you let out another moan when he thrusts up into you.

You can’t do anything but nod your head, your hands falling to Suguru’s chest to keep your balance as you bounce on his cock. His gaze drinks in all the dips and curves of your body until they find where you two connect. He watches as you roll your hips forward, as his cock disappears into your pussy over and over. A quiet moan rushes past your lips and Suguru’s hands find your ass while you grind down on him. You’re so wet, he can feel your arousal dripping down his cock, drenching his balls.

“Oh my god, Suguru,” you cry out quietly, halting your movements to lean down and crash your lips into his again. “Feels good, feels so fucking good,” you gasp between kisses. Suguru pushes against your ass, prompting you to keep going.

“Don’t stop, baby. Fuck me like you mean it,” he repeats your earlier words, a sly grin on his lips when he smacks your ass, making you yelp.

You sit up, lifting your hips all the way up until just the tip of his cock sits inside you. Suguru’s eyes are glued to the view and he can visibly see himself pulsing between your legs. He lets out a low hiss that quickly turns into a loud groan when you slam your hips back down on him.

“Shhhh,” you shush him. “Gonna wake up the whole compound.”

He grips your ass tighter. “I don’t give a fuck. Let them hear us.” He gives you a particularly harsh thrust that has you keening loudly. He thrusts again and you let out another sharp cry. “Want them to hear me fucking the mother of my child, fucking my whole heart tonight.”

The air is filled only with the sounds of the wet slap of your hips meeting, your soft gasps and moans, the bed creaking with every hard thrust he gives you. Suguru’s eyes roll back, each pump of his cock in your pretty little cunt bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Your walls are so tight, so wet, so hot, squeezing the life out of him. 

“Tell me you love me. Tell me you love my cock, baby. Tell me you missed fucking me as much as I missed fucking you.”

Your nails dig into his chest as you cry out his name, tell him all about how you craved his dick, wanted him so badly it drove you crazy some days. The feeling of his tip pressing against your most sensitive area with each pump lighting a fire in both your cores.

“Fuck, baby,” Suguru gasps, voice hoarse with arousal as he stares up at you with nothing but love in his gaze. “So sexy. Look at you. Riding my cock so good – fuck.”

“Suguru,” You gasp as he holds your hips, keeping you in place as he fucks up into you pace increasing. “I’m…I’m gonna cum, Suguru. Fuck. I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my dick, baby. I wanna feel it. I need to feel it,” he grunts, driving into you. He feels his balls tighten, his release approaching quickly. He tries to stave it off, but then he feels it. Feels warm droplets of liquid hitting his chest and his stomach. He follows the trail, eyes landing on your breasts and the droplets falling from your pert nipples and onto him.

The sight is so erotic, so goddamn sexy, it sends chills racing up Suguru’s spine. You, taking his dick so fucking well, your breasts coating him in your essence, the very essence he got the luxury to taste early and god, did it taste incredible. Your mouth slack and eyes pinched shut as you dissolve into pleasure on top of him.

One more drop hitting his skin.

Your walls squeezing him for all his worth.

Your mouth crying his name.

It’s enough for him to shatter beneath you, enough to trigger that first rope of cum shooting from his cock. 

“Shit, oh– oh fuck, baby, I’m cumming,” Suguru sputters, holding your hips painfully tight and with one last powerful thrust, he shoves himself as far as he can go before emptying himself inside of you. His muscles tense, breathe hitching as he rides out the shockwaves of his release. Every pulse of his cock is met with your walls sucking him back in, milking every drop from him.

He thinks he’s seeing fucking stars, the muffled sound of your moans drowned out by the pure euphoria he’s experiencing right now. He doesn’t even notice that excess of cum that leaks from your core and onto his groin. He feels that damn good.

Suguru’s head falls back on the bed and his grip on you loosens, leaving you to lay your weight down on him. Both your breaths come rapidly, your matching heartbeats racing against each other’s chests. And this is Suguru’s favorite part of it all. He loves this, loves the feeling of you pressed into him, loves the feeling of you completing him. 

His eyes drift shut, his fingers tracing a line up and down your spine. And for the first time in almost a year, he lets himself fully relax.

- - - - - - -

The warm beams of the early morning sun peek through the bedroom. Suguru shifts, turning onto his side to get more comfortable.

Until he realizes something is missing. His eyes shoot open and he sits up quickly in the bed, eyes roaming the room for you. When he finds no trace of you in the room, he decides it’s time for him to get up, too.

You’re likely up with the baby and he wants to help you with his morning routine.

He makes his way across the room to your master bathroom and when he opens the door, he’s met with a cloud of hot steam and the sight of you naked in front of the mirror. You’re scowling, craning your head to the side like you’re looking at something.

He sees it the moment your hand reaches up and touches your neck and your chest. You’re riddled with hickeys and bruises, marks covering almost your entire upper body. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, a murderous glare staring at him in your reflection.

And it’s not like Suguru is particularly sorry. He wants you to be all marked up and claimed so everyone knows you’re his. But that look in your eye tells him he really may be in danger here.

Luckily for him, the shrill cry of his son pierces through the tension. So he shoots you a smug grin and backs right out the door.

[shokopan]

PROMISE ME THIS  .  L. ACKERMAN ⤷ levi x gn!reader, fluff, canon au, wc: 1.1k

“i’ve figured it out,” you suddenly cut through the silence as you turn to levi, who’s now shifted to face you completely, “i know the kind of person i’d want to be betrothed to,”

“oh?” levi raises an eyebrow, trying his hardest to conceal the sudden schoolboy nervousness bubbling in his stomach, “i guess i don’t even need to ask because you’ll tell me anyways,”

“right, right,” you roll your eyes as you continue “they’d have to be completely and utterly infatuated with me. like so wholly enamored and obsessed with me that they’d grovel at my feet. if they’re interested in basically worshipping me too, i don’t think i’d mind. maybe that’d even earn them bonus points,”

“so no physical traits or any other characteristics, beyond being crazy for you, huh? should be easy to find,” levi comments, noting what you’d just said and wondering if he should be more forthcoming about his interest in you.

“you’d think, but unfortunately i’m surrounded by people more obsessed with my comrade,” you laugh, a knowing and pointed smile on your face that levi commits to memory, “it’s fine though, a scout’s life is too fleeting and marred by the constant threat of death,”

you sigh a little dejectedly before straightening up again, too conscious of the sudden morbid turn, “i guess strength should be included in my criteria,”

“should be, yeah,” levi agrees, pausing briefly, “we have to keep going no matter all that shit we go through on a regular basis. no good in subjecting ourselves to that level of grief”

“yea, fuck you’re right,” you sigh, “guess i’ve gotta look high and low for this ideal future lover,”

levi inhales sharply, frowning at the realization that this was the golden window of opportunity he’d been searching for this whole time.

“i don’t think you’d have to go through that much to find your lover,” levi starts, voice strained and heart palpitating strangely.

“what, like i should give up?” you tease, “i’m just musing levi, don’t worry. i’ve accepted the reality of being the rare and unfortunate long surviving scouts anyways,”

“no, don’t give up and shit,” levi groans, shaking his head and glaring at your forehead, not wanting to look too directly at you (but failing still), “i mean that, fuck, ok, i mean that you don’t have to keep looking for that potential lover that you think won’t exist because,”

he trails off, voice faltering as his nerves are starting to overwhelm him. it’s an odd and strangely humiliating experience as the man built up to be humanity’s strongest soldier. it’s as if all of that superhuman strength and fighting prowess has left him, relegating levi as just a man before you, struggling to wear his heart on his sleeve after obscuring it for so long.

“because?” your voice is gentle, boldly moving to tentatively touch his arm.

“because i’m here,” levi’s courage breaks through, “because i can be all of that and more for you,”

“levi,” you breath, the secret little crush you’d been harboring for years rushing out in full force, evidenced by the impossibly wide smile bursting throughout your face.

“i’m shit at emotions but i’ll make sure you fucking feel loved. i’ll protect you even though you’re also fucking strong and don’t realistically need protection. you can trust that i won’t leave you because i’m also fucking strong. we’ll keep surviving together. you don’t need to look for someone who’s obsessed with you,” levi sputters out, “you don’t need to because i already am,”

you’re stunned, completely silent as levi calms down, the rushing tidal  wave of emotions simmering to a peaceful stream that leaves him embarrassed and suddenly anxious.

“sorry if i overstepped, i shouldn—“ levi’s pitiful backtracking is interrupted as you finally gather your bearings and crash your lips to his before he can babble further. levi’s stunned, frozen in place briefly before he finally comprehends what’s happening and hurriedly gathers your waist in his arms, pulling you closer as you wrap your arms around his neck.

and after what feels like an eternity, you break from the kiss, arms still tangled with each other and bodies close as you both refuse to separate, somehow fearing that if you two let go, the mirage will break and you and levi will have to return to the grueling reality of being soldiers constantly surviving the horrors that continuously chip away at everything and everyone you know to be home.

“hi levi,” you finally whisper, looking up at him. levi’s features are soft, the roughness built up from years of tribulations that he’s had to shoulder dissipate. he traces your jaw with a hand slowly, confirming that this is real as he quietly responds “hey,”

you and levi stare at each other for what must have been a millennia, uncovering a haven in each other’s presence now that previous boundaries have been breached. maybe it is possible to get lost in someone’s eyes, levi notes. maybe if those eyes shone the perseverance and strength of the only person that could shoulder his desperation to have someone he loves survive as long as he does. 

“so you’d grovel at my feet?” you laugh, breaking the quietness blooming between the two of you. levi rolls his eyes, turning his face away as his silence gives you the answer you’re looking for.

“don’t worry you ass, i’d consider groveling at your feet too,” you wink, kissing his cheek as you break from his arms and attempt to walk away.

“oi!” levi’s quick to grab your hand before you can escape him, capturing you back in his arms as you laugh, relenting and letting yourself sink into his chest, “we’re on the same page?”

levi cringes at how gruff the ask sounds, but when you smile and nod, he knows you understand that gravity of what he means.

“yes we are, levi. i’m planning to make sure you’re stuck with me now, sorry about that,” you respond shrugging with a humorously sympathetic shrug.

“not a bad fate if you ask me,” levi hums, glancing at you, “the two of us, we’ll survive together. we’ll make it out all of the shit this world throws at us, i promise. even if it’s fucking dumb to promise anything in our world, we're strong enough, so i can promise you that,”

levi’s eyes are pointing straight at you, wearing his resolve proudly as you match his and the two of you nod in confirmation, 

“i’ll hold you to it,”

[ilium-ilia]

Daughters with Soft Underbellies

john price x fem!reader | cowboy/outlaw x preachers daughter | masterlist

Chapter Three: just as much of a traitor as Judas

tw: minor threats, abuse mention, wounds

“Caught this lamb sneaking ‘round while I was tryin’ to take a piss.” 

The masked stranger’s voice is severe but falls shorter than your father’s tone usually does. It does not bite quite as hard—instead, it nips away at you, taking little chunks with it. Still, you flinch all the same as his boots kick up dirt beside you, pacing impatiently with his arms crossed as he glowers at you over the cloth covering his nose. 

“Don’t mind Riley. He just doesn’t like strangers is all.” 

Shifting on your knees, you settle on your haunches before you can force your eyes to focus on the man on your left again. There’s the urge to lower your head as if before a king, or you’re back in the pews in that bloodstained church, but you fight that impulse as you fold your aching hands in your lap. That unassuming smile is still on his lips and the dissonance it stirs in your brain is frightening. Is he truly smiling or only flashing his teeth in warning? 

“Though, I am curious,” he continues as he taps the brim of his hat on the palm of his hand. “What are you doing out here? Bit late for a stroll. Rather… brave of you to come so close to a camp of unknown folk while you’re all by yourself.” 

“Rude,” you correct. “I-It was rude of me to… trespass. I should’ve known to stay away. I’m sorry, mister, I didn’t mean anything by it. I—well—I should get going. I’ll l-leave you gentlemen alone, I swear.”

There’s a jolt that reverberates through your legs as you attempt to find the strength to push yourself to your feet, but that vanishes the moment the man holds his hand up. Ivory light catches on the silvery calluses on his palms. A hard working man; or so you’d say if Mr. Beckett’s words weren’t still haunting your brain. His rough skin comes from the wood grip of his revolver and the soft throats of unsuspecting victims. There is nothing about this man that doesn’t remind you of the fact he’s a killer; not even that amicable smile.

“Now hold on a moment,” he urges, “you’re not really a stranger though, are you?” His teeth flash brighter than you think is humanly possible as he chuckles and glances at the men that slowly creep around you. “No, we saw you in the saloon, didn’t we? Skittish thing, you are, knocking over your stool. Lost all the change in your pocket and didn’t even stop as the bartender yelled after you. Must’ve been in a real hurry.” 

The change. You were right, though that doesn’t do you any good right now. Still, it stings knowing that something so trivial created a domino effect—that something so simple led you into a den full of wolves. Had you been more careful, you could be sitting next to your mother’s empty seat right now. 

“I… I had to get home to my daddy, he was waiting on me. He’s—uhm—waiting for me at home again. He’ll start to worry if I’m out too long.” Though you’re not sure if it’s entirely truthful, you throw that last bit in as a desperate attempt to notify these men that there is someone looking out for you. That someone will notice if you don’t turn up. 

Don’t you dare return until you do. 

Or, so you hope. 

Your words are as transparent as the stained glass in your father’s church. It’s ignored and completely bypassed in favor of asking you for your name. There’s a small temptation to lie; to create an alias as a way to preserve yourself in whatever way possible. You almost do, until your father’s words bleed from your memory—everything he quoted from The Bible about lying—so you swallow your fear and mutter your name as if it’s a curse. 

“John Price,” the man—this criminal—introduces properly. He holds out his hand for you to shake and you witlessly accept. He doesn’t grab your hand, but instead your wrist where he twists it until your cracked knuckles are on display for all prying eyes to see. His hands are oddly warm compared to you. Superheated enough that he could melt you if he wished. “Looks like you’re quite the fighter.” 

There’s an odd cordolium that strikes you with almost as much force as your father usually does. Unrelenting like the floods in spring, your stomach twists at the notion that someone would look at your wounds and see it as your fault. 

(But they are your fault, aren’t they? You said as much to Mr. Beckett.) 

“I’m not,” you say, tone dripping with desperation. “Please, sir, I really ought to be getting home. It-It’s getting late and my daddy, he-” 

“You know,” John Price interjects, “folk sometimes think women aren’t capable of much. Better if they stay home with the children or doing simple housework. If you’re a society lady, anyway, but out here in the heartlands… well, that’s a different story, isn’t it? You hear all about women murdering their sweethearts, or sneaking around where they shouldn’t.” 

Your mouth fills with cotton as his grip on your wrist stays firm. John Price’s words are dark with a rather canorous—albeit gruff—voice, but his implications leave your tongue feeling arid. 

“Are you saying that… You think that I… would hurt someone?” It’s hard to get the words out, but you force them through your teeth anyway. 

He cocks an eyebrow. “Am I?” 

The masked fellow—Riley?—scoffs as his heavy feet kick at the dirt. “C’mon Price. Just take care of ‘er and get on with it.” 

“Dunno, she doesn’t seem like much trouble,” a smooth voice challenges from somewhere behind you. The speaker captures John Price’s attention for a split second before his eyes are back on you. “Like you said, just a lamb, right?” 

“Is Kyle right about you? How much trouble are you?” he asks. 

Your bottom lip twitches. “I-I try not to be any,” you assure. 

Everything swells within an instant. The flames licking at your back roar and crackle in tune with John Price’s chuckling, and even the coyotes howling seem to crescendo with him. Finally, he releases your wrist as he replaces his hat on his head and you find your left thumb running over the delicate skin just beneath your palm. As he adjusts the brim, he opens his mouth to say something only for his lips to snap shut. Something seems to catch his eye as his gaze wanders down over your neck and to your chest. Your heart ceases in your ribcage like a fish swaying in dead water. 

A flinch forces your muscles to tense as John Price reaches a hand toward your throat. You want to close your eyes as you await your death. Asphyxiation isn’t how you want to go, but you suppose there are worse ways to be disposed of. Yet, there is no clenching of fingers or bulging of eyes—instead, this man gently tugs on the delicate gold chain around your neck, allowing his eyes to settle on the charm attached to it. 

On the crux of your breasts sits a dainty gold cross. Usually hidden behind your blouse, it now glints in the firelight with unabashed glory. For a moment, you are transported back in time when this nostalgic piece of jewelry used to sit upon your mother’s neck. Somehow, it always seemed more distinguished on her than it ever did on you. She wore it day and night—she even wore it in her casket. Hands folded on her stomach and eyes sealed tight, it didn’t seem to shine as bright when tied to her corpse. 

Your grubby nine year old fingers had slipped it off of her neck before they buried her. If your father had ever realized, you’re certain he would have buried you with her that day, but you did not take it out of avarice. She was—after all—your mother; don’t you deserve to carry a piece of her with you? Something more than the blood stained clothes she left behind? 

“Are you a woman of God?” John Price asks. 

You nod. “I am. My… My daddy’s the preacher here in town.” 

Humming, he drops the chain before returning his attention to your hands. This time, he flips both of them over so all your sore and sorry knuckles are on display. He scrutinizes them. Studies the way the skin splits open like he’s contemplating taking a taste—nothing but a scavenger interested in the leftover scraps of you. 

“Please sir,” you beg once more. “I promise I won’t make any more trouble. I’ll go home and you’ll never see me again.” 

John Price shakes his head as he relinquishes your hands back to you. When he stands, he towers over you like a tree does an ant. An infinitesimal being who’s already well accustomed with the crane of her neck. “You’re not going home.” 

Your fear is drowned out by the protest of the other men around you. They’re short and sharp quips that have John Price glaring at them with narrow eyes. You never thought you’d find yourself agreeing with such men—and especially not so quickly—but even your exhale of disapproval slices through their murmurs. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Riley hisses as he turns his back to John Price. 

“Please sir, I won’t speak a word,” you attempt to convince. “No one will ever know I saw you here, a-and we’ll pretend like this whole thing never happened.” 

“I bet you’re real good at that, yeah? Pretending as if things never happened,” John Price quips. “Is that what your daddy makes you do when he beats you like that? Act like it never happened so he can send you into town to buy his liquor?” 

When you swallow, it’s nothing but icicles piercing your throat. “He… He doesn’t hurt me.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” he snaps. “Christ, I can see the way your eye is swelling up already.” 

Adrenaline has been seeping through your pores so viciously that you had forgotten all about everything your father had subjected you to before this. An instinctively protective hand raises to your cheek where your fingers prod at the tender skin. It smarts something fierce, yet you bite back your wince as your eyes focus back on John Price’s boots. 

You don’t realize just how quiet things have grown until one of the logs being consumed by the flames suddenly cracks. It splits and settles, sending sparks swirling up in the air high above your head before they flicker out like snuffed out stars. There is no more protesting from the men around you; not even the faintest huffs of disapproval. They’ve witnessed your marred skin and smelled the wet iron that seeps from it, yet they can now finally see the infection itself. The way it festers within you, ready to consume you whole lest something is done about it first. 

John Price looks ready to rip the rot out of you with his bare hands. 

“Do you have anywhere you can go? Someone in town who will take care of you besides him?” he asks with so much consideration in his voice he sounds like a different man entirely. 

It’s a laughable question, and you would have let a titter slip past your lips if it wasn’t for the fear that still grips your heart. There are some people who would take you under their wing as if pitying a flightless bird. Mr. Beckett, for example. But your father’s influence reaches far and wide within Penmosa. You wouldn’t subjugate anyone to that type of torture. 

You shake your head. 

John Price hums. “Looks like you’re sticking with us then, little lamb.” 

Somehow, the only protest comes from you. “You don’t have to do that. It’s fine, really, I-”

“It’s not permanent,” he interjects. “No offence miss, but you hardly look roughened enough for the trails we take out here anyway. Are you familiar with Blackpeak?” 

You nod. “Mr. Beckett said that’s the town that… that you’re wanted in,” you answer just as honestly as you do awkwardly. 

He chuckles. “Yeah well… then you’re familiar with Grand Hollow then? It’s a big city. I’m sure you folks around here are familiar with it. It’s on the way to Blackpeak, which is where we’re headed. I’ve got an associate there who can find you work and housing. You could start living. Really living.” 

Dumbfounded, you stare up at John Price as if he’s a prophet. He says it so simply—you’d always thought an offer like this would come pleonastically. Salvation. It’s supposed to come at the tail end of a sermon where your father directs you and the entire congregation to bow their heads and repent for the opportunity of being saved. Truly saved. This inured cowboy—or rather, outlaw—before you hardly seems to be the epitome of Jesus Christ Himself, but perhaps he is your burning bush. 

There is, after all, a fire at your back. 

“You’d… why would you do that for me? You don’t even know me,” you say in disbelief. 

John Price shrugs. “I’ve done more for people who’ve deserved it less.” 

This must be some sort of mendacity. Nothing but a trick of the light or your ears playing games with you. Mr. Beckett told you these men were murderers. Thieves who would steal away your life before you made sense of the blade in your gut. Yet, instead of salivating at the sight of your wounds, John Price seems to have softened. 

“I… I don’t… Thank you,” you stutter. 

He gives you a curt nod in response before his eyes dart behind you. “Soap, get her a blanket. And some food, while you’re at it. Can hear her stomach growling from here.” 

The rest of the night passes you by in a cocainized blur. You’re able to make sense of the cotton blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and the too-tough deer jerky that makes your jaw and teeth ache as you grind it between your molars, but you fall short of truly being able to feel it. The heat of the roaring fire, the susurrus of the men as they discuss what exactly to do with you—they’re all abstract concepts. Ideas you try to catch in the grey matter of your brain just for the holes in your net to be too big. It slips like water between fingers. Flour from a sieve.  

When your eyelids grow too heavy to hold them up anymore, Soap—who you’ve also heard be called Johnny, but really you’re too terrified to refer to the man at all—provides you with a canvas tarp and a few extra spare blankets. No one really speaks to you, except for John Price. The other men look at you like you’re some wounded animal, one they’re afraid will jump out to bite them as if you’re the one with the repeaters and bandoliers. 

As if you’re the one with your face plastered on parchment with the words Dead or Alive beneath your name. 

Your sleep is intermittently broken throughout the night by someone adding more logs on the fire. They clank together as soot squeaks beneath the pressure, forcing you to jolt awake. It’s a different man each time, and still they all mumble for you to go back to sleep when they catch your eyes fluttering open at the intrusion. 

Morning dawns with soft periwinkle clouds and an aroma of black coffee. The robust scent rouses you from your sleep where you’re faced with a pile of dying embers and John Price kneeling over the pit as if to lay them to rest. He fusses over a small pot that babbles with boiling water as he fixes himself a cup of coffee. 

“Morning, lamb,” he greets. 

You blink a few more times before you get the strength—or rather, the courage—to sit up. Every muscle and bone in your body screams at you. It twists and cries at the unfair treatment it received from the previous day, both from your father and from your unfortunate decision to sleep on the cold hard earth rather than back in your vacant bed. Shivering fingers paw at the back of your sore neck as you try to soak up what little warmth remains in your blankets. 

“Sleep well?” he asks softly. 

“No worse than usual,” you quip, which earns you a tired chuckle. 

“Well, I’m afraid it’s all you’re going to get for the day. We’ll be leaving soon.” 

His words hit you like a rising tide. Water slowly lapping at your feet before swelling into waves that threaten to knock you to your knees. 

“I can’t believe I’m really doing this,” you breathe. 

John Price hums as he settles next to the dying fire. His pot still bubbles away, but he now nurses his own tin cup between the palms of his hands. You can see the way the warmth melts his exterior, but it’s still not enough to reach his eyes. 

“I thought you’d be more excited,” he notes. 

“Excited?” you repeat sourly. How insane of him to think you’d feel giddy over leaving everything you have ever known behind you to rot in the dust. 

He shrugs. “Usually people are eager to leave the people they hate.” 

Absentminded fingers curl around the golden cross of your necklace. He uses such a strong word to attempt to explain your emotions. Hate. Disdain. Abhor. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such things for anyone in your entire life—least of all your father. 

“I don’t hate him,” you correct. 

“Oh, you do,” John Price scoffs. “You just don’t realize it yet.” 

Despite your narrowing eyebrows, you do your best to hold off a glare at this scoundrel. He only smiles in response as he holds up his cup. 

“Coffee?” He takes a sip from the cup when you shake your head. “Right, we’ll be leaving in twenty minutes. Should make peace with your… situation before we leave, yeah?” 

John Price wanders off and leaves you alone to defrost next to the dying remains of the fire beside you. You allow yourself to soak up the morning for only a few moments before you’re putting yourself to work. You roll your blankets up the same way you watched Kyle—the gentleman who attempted to defend you last night—roll them, and when you can’t get it quite as tight as he can, he relieves you of that duty with a smile before wandering off to his horse. 

The air is strange this morning. It pulses with each beat of your heart as you stand in the center of a now dilapidating camp, looking at the men around you. Only a handful of hours ago you were sitting at the dining table with your father. Now look at you. No better than an apostate to him, wandering off with strange men. Just as much of a traitor as Judas. 

You’re yanked out of your thoughts when a bag is dropped at your feet. Yelping, you spin your body until you’re face to face with Riley. He looks no less intimidating now in the pale dawn light than he did last night in the shadows. You still have yet to see him without that bandana obscuring the bottom half of his face, but the hairs standing up on the back of your neck remind you that you ought to not ask about it. 

Instead, you bring your attention to the floral printed carpet bag that sits in the dirt next to you. Yellowed lilies dance among green threads as the canvas collapses in on itself like it can hardly stand its own weight. 

“What’s this?” you question. 

“Your bag, isn’t it?” Riley deadpans. 

Throwing a cautious glance at the mountainous man in front of you, you quickly kneel and begin to rummage through the contents. An odd palpitation rips through your heart when you recognize your own belongings within this bag—your bag. You recognize it now, flowers and all. A gift from your maternal grandmother when you turned six. She had promised you that one day you’d go out to see the world with your mother. Her promise hasn’t exactly bore fruit the way you wanted. 

There’s everything you need to live shoved inside this bag. Your dresses, chemises, pantalets, even your combs. They’re all shoved in haphazardly with no concern at all for the neat way you were certain you had folded them previously, but you make no mention of it as you zip the bag closed. 

“Where did you get this?” you question as you stand back to your feet. 

Riley raises an eyebrow. “Where do you think?” 

Somehow, you manage to swallow the lump in your throat without choking on it. “Did… Did you do anything to him?” 

“Nothin’ he didn’t deserve,” he replies as he turns his back to you. 

As the boys finish wrapping up camp, you wander the area with your carpet bag in hand. Twigs snap beneath your feet and mourning doves chirp upon ramulose trees and bushes as you peer out over the horizon. The campsite rests at the top of a large hill, giving you a perfect view of the earth below you. Penmosa looks just as small as it's always been, and you can see the sheep in the pasture lazily roam as they chew on fresh spring grass and bleat. Mr. Beckett’s chickens are out again and enjoying their morning stroll and you can’t help but laugh as you watch a carriage pass them by, scaring them and causing them to flap their wings to get away. 

Then, of course, there’s the steeple of your father’s church. Faded painted wood stands proudly above every other building in town like hands reaching up to Heaven. How proud that building is. So cavalier for something that’s soaked in blood. You find yourself thinking an unchristian thought, but you hope that steeple tumbles like The Tower of Babel. 

It’s strange to think that you’ll be leaving this town behind. Throwing it away for a chance to wander off with strange men on the shaky promise of a better life. How can something feel wrong and right at the same time? What brutal moral conflict have you subjugated yourself to? Why aren’t you as scared as you know you should be? 

“You ready, little lamb?” John Price asks from somewhere behind you. 

You allow yourself to stare out at the town for only a moment longer before turning around to face him. He stands with his hat donned and thumbs tucked next to his belt buckle as he watches you with curiosity. 

“Of course,” you reply, though your tone argues otherwise.  Just as you take your first step, the church bells begin to chime. Raucous and clear, they call you to you. They ring, and ring, and ring, and still you walk. You pay no mind to your father or his bells; not even as they beg.

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[drabblesandimagines]

Disinhibited

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Established relationship/married, mentions of sedation, blood, bit of spice, absolute nonsense

Leon looks through the porthole-style window of the metal door to the lab and what he sees makes his heart stop. You - his beloved wife - on the floor, propped up against a row of cages at the far back wall, each wrist zip-tied to the bars above you and your head hanging low, clearly unconscious.

You’d agreed on radio silence when you’d split up, the expectation being you’d break it when either of you had located your objective. It was meant to be an easy job – suspicions that the research being undertaken at this particular oil ring was questionable at best, conducted by a skeleton crew. A USB stick holding the files the two of you had been sent to retrieve is now securely zipped in a pouch on his vest, a handful of guards sacrificing their lives for the cause. Annoyingly, a speedboat had managed to get away with the scientists onboard, but a call to HQ had the coastguard swiftly on their tail.

Leon had started to worry when he didn’t get a reply from his call-outs and had circled back, his stomach in knots. There had been slight pushback from the DSO when you and Leon had started dating, and even more so after you’d tied the knot. The two of you remained professional to a fault, but it had been observed that you worked incredibly well together. It brings both of you a bit of comfort too, knowing you have each other’s back - not one left at home wondering if the other one is going to come home in one piece.

You can take care of yourself, he has no doubt about that… But, hell, neither you or he are invincible. He swipes the pilfered keycard through the automatic lock and it takes everything within him not to sprint on over to you as the door buzzes – he needs to remain cautious, scan the area for any remaining threats and then tend to you once he’s established it’s safe. He pushes the door open and checks each square foot, gun raised, finger ready to shoot on sight. The lab is small, just the one room – no outgoing doors – and once he confirms that it is clear, he quickly pulls across a medical cart to block the door as an extra precaution, then practically skids his way over to you across the linoleum.

He drops to his knees, placing his gun down by his side and grasping hold of your chin gently to tilt your head up.

“Sweetheart…?”

The first thing Leon takes in is that you’re breathing. He immediately releases the breath he’s been holding in relief. There’s some tacky blood on your temple from a wound that is already clotting, as well what will end up as a pretty nasty bruise developing under your eye. It doesn’t seem right though – you’re too skilled to take something like that…

He pulls out his knife and slices through the first zip tie, freeing your wrist when he spots a very unwelcome sight – there’s a syringe stuck in the crook of your elbow, obviously administered in quite the hurry.

“Fuck.” Leon pulls it out slowly and holds it aloft, squinting at a small serial code within. He presses his earpiece then, and there’s a couple of beeps before he’s patched through to Hunnigan.

“This is Roost.”

“Roost, Condor One. I’ve located Kestrel – unconscious, looks like she’s been injected with something. There’s a serial on the syringe, run it for me?”

“Ready.”

He recites the numbers, slowly, making sure he’s read them right – a slip might be the wrong diagnosis. There is a tense pause as he hears Hunnigan tap away on the keyboard.

“Got a match. It’s a barbiturate, type of sedative. Good news is Kestrel’s not allergic to any of the ingredients. Usually it’s administered via an IV to keep the patient under, but if it was a controlled dose via syringe she should come round soon.”

“Okay. Good.” He cradles your face with his palm, relieved that it wasn’t something unknown or particularly nasty.

“Did you obtain the info?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got the files. Can we get an extraction?”

“45 minutes ETA, Condor One. Meet it at the helipad – side of the rig - if you can make it there with Kestrel.” He looks down at the map and notes the point, as you let out a soft, sleepy mumble.

“We’re pretty close. Think she’s beginning to wake up. I’ll give her a little longer to come round.”

“Right. Just a warning – that drug is strong.”

“Noted. Condor One out.” He presses the button and the connection drops. He grabs hold of his knife again and slices the remaining zip-tie, pressing a kiss to the indent it’s left on your wrist – bastards - before he places it down gently in your lap, and waits.

--

Leon explores the lab a little further, digging in all the cabinets and drawers he can find. There’s a metal table with some dried blood on it and he reckons after they’d injected you you must’ve hit the deck, or, more literally, the table. He comes up empty-handed of items in search, besides finding your confiscated weapons in a medical tray – he adds them to his own supply, sticking your pistol in his front pocket. By the time he’s finished, you’ve begun to show a few more stirring signs so he makes his way back over, crouching down in front of you to caress your cheek once more.

“Hey, sweetpea,” Leon smiles as you blink repeatedly, trying to get your eyes to focus. “You’re all right, I’ve got you.”

“Huh?” You mumble as the blurs slowly transition into Leon’s face, his features in a mix of concern and relief at you finally regaining consciousness.  

“Took quite the hit, huh?” He drops his hand to your waist and you flinch at the contact, causing him to withdraw. “Sorry, are you hurt there?”

“I’m okay.” You eye him warily as you reply, sitting yourself upright a little more.

“Good.” He lets out a sigh, before rubbing the back of his head. “Not gonna lie, you had me scared for a moment. Come here, sweetheart,” he slips his arm around your waist this time, pulling you forward in what he means to be a gentle kiss, but the second your lips meet he cannot resist taking it a bit further, tangling his hand in your hair to deepen it, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to gain access within. You relent and he grins into the kiss, darting his tongue against yours and…

A stinging pain on his right cheek from where your palm has collided. There wasn’t a lot of power behind it, but it still makes him pull back. He opens his eyes in alarm and you’re glaring at him, hot tears threatening to spill.

“You bastard.”

The slap, the name – he’s heard you use some pretty colourful language over the years but never directed at him at least – renders him speechless for a moment, his mind trying to catch up with what happened to sweet reunion.

“Baby, what…?“ He reaches a hand out for you again but you slap it away, or at least you try this time - your co-ordination is all off and all you do is bat the air.

“Don’t call me that.” There’s a slur to your words, almost as if you’re drunk. “Back off, buddy.”

“I…”

“I’m married, I’ve got a husband.” You make a point of looking him up and down. “A husband that could kick your sorry ass into next week if he saw you right now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Leon frowns, thoroughly confused now. “I am your husband.”

You laugh dryly at that. “You wish! He’s, like, ten times sexier than you without even trying.”

He looks down at himself then – he’s in his tactical vest, his usual mission get-up – maybe his hair does need a bit of a trim, but… what are you on about?

“I assure you that’s mathematically impossible.” Leon withdraws a flashlight from his belt and clicks it on, trying to direct it at your pupils. “Does your head hurt?”

“Stop that.” You wince into the light, ducking your head away. He only gets a quick glance but your pupils aren’t reacting as they should – a combination of the sedative and a concussion, maybe? You aren’t going to be a willing patient for him to get a longer look, that’s for sure. “Leave me alone.”

“Uh-uh, you need to listen.” He puts the flashlight back in his belt and cups your face with both of his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m Leon, I am your husband. You were sedated and I think you’re concussed - that’s why things seem a little confusing right now, but you’ve got to believe me, sweetpea.”

You blink again, tilting your head in a curious manner before squinting. A delighted smile crosses your face as you take in his face, as if he hadn't already been in front of you this whole time.

“Hi,” you say, breathily. “There you are!”

“Hey.” He smiles. It is weird to see you so ditzy, however he can’t help but admit it is utterly adorable. “I’m here, darlin'. You’ll feel better in a bit, okay?”

“Nah, I feel great, baby.” You place your hand over his and tug it slightly so you can lace your fingers inbetween. “Hey, have I told you how sexy it is when you wear these gloves? We should-"

Your earpieces beep simultaneously and cut off your train of thought, as you both answer out of instinct.

“Condor One, it's Roost. Helicopter’s 20 minutes out. Thought you’d like to know the coastguard has picked up our scientist friends. Any update on Kestrel?”

“Hunnigan, it’s me!” You chirp. “I’m fine. Great.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Please tell me this is an expected side effect.” Leon comments, dryly.

“Yeah, sounds like it. Kestrel’s going to be like that a little while – I’m sure you can handle her, though.”

“By the way, Condor One – excellent. Love it, love you.” You poke Leon in the chest to really emphasise your point. “Roost – makes sense. Kestrel, though? Kestrel’s such a dumb name. I want a cooler one.”

“We don’t pick them, you know that.” Hunnigan replies, tapping away at her keyboard – Leon assumes she’s sending intel to the helicopter medic about your apparent state of mind.

“Well, we should. I'm changing mine." You declare, boldly. "My new codename is gonna be… Mrs Kennedy.”

“You don’t mean that, sweetpea.” Leon shakes his head in disbelief. You’d kept your surname when the two of you had got married – antiquated tradition that didn’t mean anything to him or you – hadn’t ever been an issue. “You don’t like it when people even mistakenly call you that.”

“Mm, that’s not strictly true." You pause to bite your lip and look up at him. "See, I’d really like it if you’d call me that next time we do that thing where y-“ He covers your mouth then, pulling you into his side. He’s now painfully aware of where you’re going with that sentence and it’s not something you - or he - will want recorded on the comms transcript for this mission for all time.

“Okay, Roost, I think we’re gonna head off now to the extraction point.”

“Wise.” The connection cuts out and he lets go of you, about to apologise, but you’re already distracted, looking down at what your hip bumped against when he grabbed you.

“Hey, that’s my gun,” your hand ghosts across his crotch as you try to take it from his pocket. He’s quicker though, grabbing hold of both of your hands and twirling you into his embrace, pressing your back into his chest and crossing his arms in front of you.

“Yeah… Best if I keep hold of it for now, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“But it’s mine-" You protest. He steps you forward, leaning his chin on your crown as he directs you towards the door.

“You can have it back when you’re feeling a bit more yourself, I promise. Just let me look after you for now, okay?”

“Fine,” you huff out, allowing him to manhandle you forward with no resistance. “Where we going?”

“We’ve got a helicopter to catch.”

--

Satisfied that you’d forgotten about your gun, he settled for just holding your hand tightly as he tugged you up the stairs and to the helipad, keeping an eye on the horizon. It should be here soon – then maybe they could flush whatever it was in your system or you’d sleep it off in the helicopter. You’re not a big drinker – you get a little tipsy off a glass of wine – but this as if you’ve downed a whole bottle, your filter entirely wiped out.

“Leon…” You drawl, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Uh-huh?”

“I’ve been thinking about the debrief…”

“Don’t worry about that right now, darlin’. Let’s just get ourselves home first, huh?”

“No, not that one.” You bite your lip, before your hands slide round and down to his ass, giving it a squeeze and then tugging at his belt to slip below. “I have a different kind of de-brief in mind, if you get what I mean…”

The helicopter blades whir in the distance at last and he thanks his luck, pulling your hands back to around his waist and away from his boxers.

“Don’t you want me?” You pout, pathetically, pushing yourself into his chest. “I do,” he hums, “but not like this, sweetheart. When you’re more yourself we’ll talk, okay?” He presses a kiss to your crown and wraps his arms around you, keeping his eyes focused on the helicopter’s approach.

--

You feel as if you’re hungover – head throbbing and nauseous as you wake. You’d dozed off in the helicopter ride back, vaguely aware at some point of Leon carrying you out and a sharp sting in your arm before you’d fallen asleep again. You’re in the med bay back at HQ, an IV in your arm connected to a bag of fluids and Leon’s sat cross-legged in a chair by the bed, typing away on a laptop.

“Hi.” You mumble and his blue eyes meet yours, his smile creasing the corners of them.

“Hi there. How you feeling?” He closes the laptop and puts it to the side, shuffling closer to you.

“Like I drank way too much. What happened?”  

“Those scientists injected you with a pretty strong sedative and you whacked your head. Mild concussion – headache might hang around a couple of days, I’m afraid.” He hesitates then, curious. “Do you remember the lead up to that at all?”

“No.” You shake your head and regret it when the room spins. “I remember us splitting up and then everything’s a little hazy…” Patchy recollections of conversations circle through your mind. “I think… I remember saying some… things. Weird things.”

“If you count telling me that your husband is ten times hotter than me, then yes.”

“What?” You have to laugh at that one.

“Oh, yeah. Then you tried to get them to change your codename, before finally trying to make debriefing have an entirely different context.” He smirks as your face loses colour in embarrassment. “Didn’t think you had it in you, sweetpea.”

“I… I didn’t.”

“Oh, you did." He licks his lips then, maintaining eye contact. "I've been looking up some of the side effects of the sedative – apparently it can disinhibit you something rotten. Got me wondering though - you keeping some secret desires from me?”

“N-no.” You’re a terrible liar - a poker face in front of enemies, but you always crumble within a second in front of Leon.

He gets to his feet then, circles the bed to clamber in the opposite side of the IV drip and pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Cos, as I told you at the time, I’d be very happy to revisit some of your ideas when you’re feeling better…" He moves his lips down, whispering in your ear. "..Mrs Kennedy.”

--

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[ohburgee]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐭

Part One - Part Two

yandere-oc!criminal x fem!reader

tw: attempt threat, stalking (he is stalking you, you just didn't know) an: So this story has 'Part Two' Don't worry I won't just leave the ending without knowing how You gonna repay my oc Keiran. Spoiler alert. He is Yandere in part two just you know why my tag is Yandere and the story is not. Well, a long one again i don't like doing short stories (sometimes) I want my readers to read a lot haha jk, but it's entertaining to read a long short story with a bit of detail. :)

You were replacing some cereal boxes on the shelving and also some bottles of noncold juice, you are hard-working right now since the time when a visitor came to your house and your father was the one looking for and you listened to their talking and you were shocked to hear that your father had debt from those people.

What makes you even more shocked is that your father owns them, 2 million and you realize that the payment for your uncle's operation and his room were paid too.

So that's where the money was from...

And you feel bad since your father doesn't have a better job his boss didn't pay him enough salary and you are also still in college you asked him to let you work but he disagreed because he doesn't want you to get involved and focus on your school.

But you try to tell and understand your father and after pleasing him he finally says yes but tells you to not let too much work on yourself and you promised him.

And now you're here working as you are done putting the products you stay at your counter waiting for some kind of customer that's what you want, you don't like those who just barge in and are rude to you when you say good day and are they just roll their eyes or even just get their product and left.

After an hour the bell rang and you looked up and saw a man, he was tall wearing a long black coat and dark grey shirt and pants and his buzz cut and a well-cut beard also he was wearing black lens shades he is quite handsome though looks like a man who owns everything.

He walks towards the drink center and you look back to your phone scrolling not minding the customer, after a minute you hear footsteps coming closer and you look up to see him carrying a bottle of energy drink and a chocolate bar, what a combination I thought he brought a beer.

You took the energy bottle and punched it with the price scanner and then the chocolate bar, when you were about to say the overall price suddenly a bell rang and a man went in, he looked tired no. He is drunk, in the morning for real!?

Then he approached the cashier counter "Hey can I have one bottle of beer" he said and you immediately looked at him "Sir you need to leave you are drunk" "No I'm not" you said with a tsk, "No sir you need to leave" you said loud and he groans and trying to balance himself "I said no!" he said fighting back at you "Sir yo-" he cut you off "I said I'M NOT DRUNK!" he shout and immediately trying to grabbed you.

Before he could do that a tall man stopped him grabbed his shirt and brought his face closer to him, "The lady said you need to leave" he said in a deep voice that sounded like threatened you to death, "Before I make this place a mess" he added and the drunk man just stare at him with fear and he immediately let go of his shirt and he ran out the convenience store.

"Thanks for that," you said and he smiled "It's $5.35," you told him the overall price and he took out a wallet and stopped and looked at you "Do you accept cards?" he asked and you looked at him puzzled "No we don't accept card only cash," you said made a small laugh and you saw him pulling back a black card inside, jeez this person is rich...

"Sorry," he said and pulled 6 dollars "I was kinda used to cards actually," he said chuckling about it "I see" You accepted the money and gave him the exchange. "No need to pack it up," he said and you nodded and gave him the bottle and the bar.

"You should be careful" he said and you looked at him "Thanks for your worries I know and I will," you said and smiled, he chuckled "Might someone point a gun at you," he said jokingly and I laughed at it.

"I will and I won't be stupid if that happens Mr rich," you said joking with him and he put his wallet in his pocket before he got out of the store, "See ya around Miss Lady," he said and got out and you made small wave.

What a nice person, you said in your mind and he also worries about your position after an hour of serving, scanning, and being kind to every customer you encountered it was going to be night and your shift was going to end this day and you saw your co-worker went in and you both exchange and now you are out the store.

You blow a breath and hug yourself in the wintered snow of Chicago well it's time to head home might your father waiting for you. As you walk through the street you feel your stomach getting empty and you don't mind you don't want to spend money you just work hard, you need this for your father's debt.

As you walk you get bumped into a person and he looked irritated "Watch your step bitch" he said and you look at him "What did you just call me!?" you said "I said watch where you're going. Bitch" he said that curse word made you boiled and he saw that you try to fight and he immediately pull something on his pocket but someone stopped him a hand grabbed on his arm.

You look up seeing the man in the store, Mr rich. The guy looked at him and immediately pulled out his hand from his pocket apologizing and walked away, dang who is this rich person why those everyone scared of him?

"Thanks again for that," you said exhaling yourself from anger, you have anger issues so. "I told you to be careful" "I am!" you said crossing your both arms "That guy almost pointed a gun at you," he said, and you shrugged "I know and I know how to defend myself," you told him "I need to get home my father is waiting for me," you said before you could walk away he grabbed your arm and you turn to look at him.

"Where's my payback for that?" he asked "Uh..." You think something yes he has saved you twice now and that think of him too much of saving you, "How about a discount in the store" "No, not interested" "I know you're rich but how about dollars," you said not your work's money for your father, your own money.

"I don't need money dear," he said and you heard your stomach make a small sound really right now, "You didn't eat?" he asked "No but I'll just eat at home," you told him "Where is your address I can take you there safety" "At West Town but thanks for the ride I'll just call taxi," you said "That's too far from here in River North since your hungry I'll buy you food my treat" he said and you look annoyed a bit "No need to-" "I insist"

.....

You both now eating inside a restaurant in River West, you didn't get to fight back and he brought you here, "Why are you working in River North when your home is far from there" he asked sipping his wine well he brought you to an expensive luxury restaurant "I studied in Columbia College with a Audio Arts degree".

"You do music?" you nodded your head and looked at his face he was impressed "I'll always encounter people with art, medicine, and engineer degrees and that's too common, and hearing yours is quite rare," he said and you nodded your head continue eating your food.

After a minute of eating and talking about your life and his small topic about his too. You both got out of the restaurant and you looked at him "Well thanks for the treat I appreciate it" you said and he chuckled and smiled "No worries" "How can I repay you for that?" before he opened his mouth a car went in front of you both and he walks towards and a man got out and opened a door for him. He is really rich.

You turn to look at him when he gets in "I forgot to introduce I just brought you there in a weird way" he said more like asking your name yeah it's weird since you both started to talk about both of your lives without knowing both of your names, you told him your name and he smiled. "Keiran," he said before he rolled up his window.

"Hey about my repay?"

"You can pay me next time dear"

[247-diaperboy]

QB’s Humiliating Secret part 2

The note that sat on my desk was a simple yet menacing threat: I was to stay away from Frat Row and never talk to the girl from that night, or else pictures of me in diapers would be plastered all over campus and the internet. The author concluded with a twisted compliment, stating that I had been a “good baby” for him during the six hours I was with him. It was signed with a capital “R.”

It had been about a month and a half since my abduction, and after reading that letter, things had only become more complicated.

The good news was that I finally managed to remove the cage after a day or so. Freedom felt nice, and I reveled in the sensation of it hanging low again. Football season was going great. However, ever since that night, I had become hesitant to go out. I hadn’t gone drinking or attended any parties; I guess you could say I was a bit worried it might happen to me again. So, while my social life had dwindled, I had developed an impressive eight-pack. It was time to show it off, but the only one who had admired it was my roommate, Robby.

After the incident, I had apologized to Robby, and we had returned to our normal routine within a couple of days. “You don’t need to hang your jock on the doorknob anymore,” I told him.

Robby chuckled, leaning against his bed. “Man, I appreciate that. It’s nice to know we’re both comfortable enough to just live our lives. Besides, it’s not like you’re going to get any action anytime soon.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I think I’ve turned into a hermit since that night.”

While I had chosen celibacy and sobriety, Robby had not. He had brought home a new guy almost every night for the past month. I hadn’t seen him with a girl since the first couple of weeks of school.

This left me wondering if he might actually be gay and just uncomfortable admitting it to me. Honestly, I didn’t care if he was. I had gay friend in high school, and he was just one of the guys. While I didn’t mind him hooking up with dudes while I was in bed, it had started to feel strange lately. One night, he was with this little guy—couldn’t have weighed more than 130 pounds soaking wet—and while he was balls deep, he kept glancing over at my bed in the dark room.

I decided to ask him. “Hey, Robby, you ever think about, you know, what this all means? Like, are you really just into guys?”

He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Honestly? I don’t know. I just like who I like. And if you ever want a live demonstration, I’m sure I could arrange something.”

“Hard pass,” I shot back, but I couldn’t help laughing.

The following night, I heard him calling my name while he was with another guy.

“Brody!” he shouted, muffled through the wall. “You should come join us!”

“Yeah, right!” I called back. “No way in hell!”

I found it flattering that he thought I was attractive, but I was the straightest guy I knew. Still, I would be the first to admit he had a nice cock. It had to be at least nine inches long and thick, almost as big as mine. The guys who left in the morning often walked with pronounced limps.

Even though I didn’t consider myself gay, I could see why someone would find Robby appealing. He had a body to die for and a great personality to match. Yet, I couldn’t shake the thought—was it normal for me to feel a bit intrigued? I mean, it’s human nature to get excited when seeing anyone get it on, right? There were nights when he would be pounding away at some guy, and when he flipped them over, he’d cum all over their faces, making them lick every drop. Anyone could find that a little hot…

If my thoughts about Robby weren’t bad enough, I began having bizarre dreams. In them, I found myself wearing oversized diapers, unable to talk, trapped in a crib like the one I had been in weeks ago. I would cry in my crib until Robby would approach. He would hand me a bottle, and I would guzzle it down before unloading in the diaper. Afterward, he would change me and whisper encouraging words into my ear, like “Good job” or “You’re such a good boy.”

Then, I’d wake up and occasionally find I had wet my pants a little. My bed was never soaked through, but it was definitely damp.

With all of that in mind, I need to recount what happened last night. I finally decided to go out with friends and Robby. We hit a bar that served underage athletes, and we all got a little wild.

“Are you ready for this?” Robby asked, clapping me on the back as we stepped inside.

“Let’s do it!” I replied, adrenaline surging through me. Surprisingly, it took me longer to get drunk, and I didn’t experience the weird feelings I had at the frat party. After a stop at Taco Bell, we continued partying in the dorm—just four guys: Robby, his friend Jake, my buddy Rod who played tight end on the football team, and me. We partied hard until about 4 a.m., and I crashed on the futon beneath my lofted bed; there was no way I could climb the ladder last night.

What happened when I woke up was terrifying.

I found myself in Robby’s bed, wearing the shorts and T-shirt I hadn’t been in the night before. He was nowhere in sight, but I felt something unusual under my shorts—was I wearing a diaper? Anger and confusion coursed through me. But at the same time, there was something unsettlingly right about it. Since no one was around, I figured I could explore. I began stroking myself through the diaper, thinking I could stop if Robby came back.

“Brody!” I heard Robby’s voice call from the hallway. “Dude, I’m back! You okay in there?”

My heart raced as I continued, unable to stop myself.

I probably jacked off for a good fifteen minutes, getting closer to the edge with each stroke. Just as I was about to climax, I heard the key turn in the door. Panic shot through me, but I couldn’t stop; I was so close.

“Brody, are you in the bathroom?” Robby called again, his voice getting closer.

Then it happened—I came hard, one of the most intense orgasms of my life, filling the diaper completely. When I finally came to my senses, I saw Robby standing at the door, his jaw dropped in shock.

“Whoa! What the hell, Brody?” he exclaimed, clearly taken aback.

After what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, he finally spoke. “Dude, you pissed yourself on the futon. The room and your clothes started to smell like urine, so I bought a pack of Depends from the drugstore. I figured if you got drunk again, this might save us both from some embarrassment.”

Robby paused, his expression shifting from shock to concern. “But I’m more shocked that it looked like you enjoyed playing in diapers.”

I didn’t know how to respond. My face burned with embarrassment.

“Look, man,” he said, stepping into the room. “It’s okay if you’re into it. Everyone has their kinks.”

“I’m not into it!” I protested, my voice rising. “This is… this is messed up!”

Then he broke the ice, a playful grin creeping across his face. “Honestly, it was kinda hot watching you jack off in the diaper,” he admitted, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to try diaper play.”

My heart raced. “What? You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all,” he replied, leaning against the wall, looking surprisingly casual about the whole situation. “I mean, I always thought it was a little taboo, but now that I’ve seen it…”

I was at a loss for words, tears prickling my eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

He stepped closer, a serious look replacing his playful demeanor. “Brody, if you want to talk about it, I’m here. You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. “I can’t explain why this is happening. I’ve never had these dreams or urges before.”

“But if you like it, that’s okay,” Robby reassured me, his voice softening. “I’m not here to judge you. I promise I won’t tell anyone. And if you want to wear diapers in our room, it can be our little secret.”

“I appreciate that, but I really don’t think it’s necessary,” I stammered. “If I just stop drinking, I’m sure the urges will go away, and I’ll be back to my normal self.”

Robby nodded slowly. “I get it. Just know that I’m here for you, man. No matter what.”

While I liked being the ladies’ man, the cocky jock, I had to admit:

there was something about the feel of a diaper between my legs that was oddly pleasurable.

“Thanks, Robby,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Take your time,” he replied, his expression earnest. “You don’t have to rush anything. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. I’ve got your back.”

Man, my life is so messed up right now… Who am I, really?!

[rotknox]

Acta, non verba | Cryptic Comforts

Work on AO3 | Work on Wattpad | Masterlist

𝙳𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

═════════-°- ⚠ -°-═════════

Bill was lying on his mattress, sulking in annoyance. He stared at the mold on the ceiling, slightly fascinated by the sheer amount of it - he could get a disease from this! Awesome!

He stared at his new body, a slight frown on his face. He had always wanted a physical form, but why did he feel so... unamused and bored? He shook his head and tried to roll over, only to let out a sudden yelp. The bone armour for his lungs hurt so much! Why?!

He silently cursed Ford for poking at his skin so much, now he would have bruises for days!

He could hear the bickering below, but rolled his eyes. For now, he was going to indulge in the human delicacy of 'sleeping soundly'.

═════════-°- ⚠ -°-═════════

Ford was sitting at the kitchen table, Stan across from him with a questioning look on his face. "What's with the face, Poindexter?" he asked and Ford looked up. He didn't know how to bring this up with his brother in any way.

"'Do you remember Bill, Stanley?" Ford asked and Stan rolled his eyes, "Oy, that stupid triangle..," he said bitterly, leaning back in his seat. Ford rubbed his forehead before deciding to confess, "Well... when you killed him in your mind, his mind form escaped to an area outside of time. He was taken to a facility called 'Theraprism' where he was to be put through a rehabilitation process. Due to a lack of progress, he was sent here,"

Stan then looked at Ford and furrowed his brow, "So you're telling me there's a space demon in our house?" he asked sharply and Ford nodded, " That's right... Don't worry, I've got him under control. I have already run some tests on him and his supernatural properties are extremely low,"

Stan groaned, "Remember, the moment he acts out, I will make sure he is thrown out of this place," Ford nodded, "I agree. He's already been warned... Though you seem a lot calmer about it,"

Stan shrugged, “Guess since I killed him, he’s become less of a threat in my eyes. I dunno, but… I’m too tired for this, I’m gonna head to bed. You should do the same,"

Stan left the room and Ford sighed. He looked out the window, silently wondering if he had made the right choice… Only time could tell.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

The morning sun hit the window and shone directly into Bill's eyes. He groaned loudly and sat up, "Stupid..,"

He ducked away from the light, grumbling. There was a knock at his door and he narrowed his eyes, "What?" he said sharply.

The door opened to reveal Mabel, "Hello, mister," she said, crossing her arms. Bill glared at her and huffed, "What do you want, shooting star?" he asked, glaring at her. Mabel just grinned, "For you to join us for breakfast!"

Bill blinked, staring at the little girl, "And if I don't?" Mabel looked at him, frowning, "I'll have to drag you downstairs myself!"

Bill couldn't help but chuckle, "Really? You and what upper body strength?"

...

Dipper was quietly eating the breakfast Stan had made, reading a cryptid magazine. [Name] had also joined them at Ford's request.

"You know, Latin America has some interesting legends," [Name] commented as he sipped his coffee. Dipper piped up and smiled, "Do you have anything I can read?" the teenager asked. [Name] chuckled and ruffled his hair, "Sure. Just remind me before I clock out,"

"C'MON, MOVE!" they all heard Mabel yell, "NO! I AM AN ADULT HUMAN, I CAN MAKE MY OWN, DID YOU JUST BITE ME?"

Ford blinked and looked at Stan, "Should we help?" he asked. Stan shrugged as he read his paper, "Nah, she's got him,"

[Name] looked up to see Mabel dragging an angry Bill down the stairs. She plopped him down on a chair and exhaled, "Damn, he's pissed!"

"Language, young lady," Ford sighed. Bill grumbled and then looked beside him. His eyes met [Name]'s and his eye widened, "O-Oh! You're here... Why?"

[Name] smiled, "Mr Pines invited me. He found out I don't eat enough and gave me a LONG lecture..," he said and Bill laughed a little, "Yeah, sounds like Sixer..," he commented, looking at Ford to make sure HE wasn't getting a lecture either. 

“Alright, let’s cut to the case,", Stan said as he put his newspaper down. He looked at Bill and spoke sternly, “You aren’t staying here for free, three-sides,"

Wow. Stupid nickname AND a rent order? Bill was rightfully offended.

"Yeah? Says who?" asked Bill challengingly. Stan narrowed his eyes at him, "Says me. Either you get a job or you sleep with the raccoons,"

[Name] looked over and sighed, "If it's too much for you, Stan, he can stay with me," he offered. Bill's eye twinkled as he looked over at the man. Ford shook his head, "No, [Name]. Bill has to stay here so I can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't get out of hand.

[Name] couldn't help but laugh a little, "Why? Look at him, Mr Pines! He looks fine to me," he said as he gestured to Bill. Ford furrowed his brow before deciding against a rebuke. [Name] wasn't from Gravity Falls, nor was he around when Weirdmageddon happened, he didn't know what Bill was capable of.

Bill, on the other hand, felt his heart race when [Name] defended him. Mabel took note of this.

"Look, Mr Pines. I'm not sure what your deal is with this guy, but I personally think he deserves better treatment. So how about I take this guy and the kids to do some shopping?" [Name] suggested as he stood up. Ford hesitated but was interrupted by Stan, "Sure, just don't let him out of your sight.

Bill looked over at Stan in slight surprise. [Name] smiled, "You got it! Come on, let's go,"

Dipper eagerly followed [Name] and Mabel dragged Bill along with her. Once outside, Ford turned to Stan with an angry expression on his face, "What the hell, Stanley?! Didn't you hear me tell you to keep an eye on him?"

Stan groaned and looked at Ford, "Look, if you want to see Bill's nature then you need to let him go once in a while. If he can behave himself when he's out of your grasp, then maybe he's not a threat,"

Ford stared at him, trying not to scowl, "He is dangerous, Stanley! Why are none of you worried?" Stan stood up and glared at him, "The sky's still blue, time is moving forward, nobody has any extra appendages that I know of. So stop being a wet blanket,"

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Bill sat in the passenger seat of [Name]'s car and shifted a little. "Just so you know, Bill, I let you ride shotgun because I was feeling generous," Bill couldn't help but chuckle at Dipper's 'nonchalant' attitude, "Yeah, yeah. How's that green M&M working out for you?" he commented and Dipper almost choked.

Mabel just smiled, "Well, I think this is a good time to show Bill here what he's been missing!"

Bill just gave an absent-minded 'uh-huh' and stared out of the window. Mabel's brows furrowed in curiosity and she followed his gaze, her eyes landing on [Name], who was chatting with Wendy outside the Mystery Shack, presumably to get her to cover his shift while he was gone.

Mabel gasped and started to shake Dipper's arm, then leaned in and whispered to him. Dipper paled and looked at the back of Bill's head.

"So, Bill..," Mabel began and Bill almost groaned, "Your thoughts on [name]?" she asked with a mischievous little smile. Bill turned to her and narrowed his eyes, "What do you care?"

Dipper chimed in, "Well, he's someone we all love very much. And we don't want anything to happen to him,"

Bill couldn't help but grimace, "What the hell is this? Meeting my girlfriend's parents for the first time? Relax, I won't do anything to him," Dipper looked at him suspiciously and Mabel was planning something in her head.

[Name] finally got into the car, "Sorry to keep you waiting, guys. I had to bribe Wendy to cover for me while we're away," he chuckled as he started the car. The engine purred to life and the radio automatically switched to some music by [Favourite Band Name].

Bill gave the radio a look of mild interest and [Name] noticed. The taller man smiled a little, "Do you want to change it to something else?" he asked. Bill looked up in slight surprise, "Er... Sure,"

[Name] smiled and nodded as he started to pull out of the car park, he spoke to Mabel, "Hey, Starlight? Can you hand my CD's to Bill?"

Mabel let out a cheerful "Yep!" and grabbed the CD binder from under the driver's seat. "For the passenger princess!" she said teasingly and Dipper laughed a little. Bill laughed sarcastically and grabbed the binder.

He thumbed through the contents of the binder and hummed a little. He saw a bunch of bands and artists he didn't even know. He looked over at [Name] and remembered the name of an artist, "Do you have Vera Lynn?"

[Name] kept his eyes on the road, but his attention remained on Bill, he smiled and shook his head, "No, but I have Doris Day. She has a similar feel to Vera,"

Bill looked down and searched for this Doris Day lady. He picked up the CD and removed the other one from the radio, carefully placing it back in an empty pocket of the folder. He inserted the CD he had chosen and waited patiently for the song to begin.

His ears were blessed by the soft voice of an angel and his eyes sparkled again. [Name] smiled and looked over at Bill, "You like romantic music?" he asked. Bill shrugged a little, "I guess so..,"

Bill felt all tingly inside as [Name] smiled at him... Maybe he had a tapeworm? Yes, that explains it.

They reached the mall. Bill was a bit fascinated by how... funny it looked.

"All right, kids, listen up," [Name] shut off the car and turned to the back seat. "Mr Pines is clearly on a weird tangent with Bill here, yeah? So, since he's not going to do it, I suggest we give him a warm welcome with some proper furniture and whatnot!"

Mabel was ecstatic about this, while Dipper just listened intently. Bill raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, "For your information, I'm fine with my room as it is," [Name] turned to him and raised his eyebrows, "You're fine with an air mattress and a mold infestation? Yeah, that's what I thought. Well, let's not waste any time!"

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

The mall was bustling with people, the smell of fried food hit Bill’s nostrils like a freight train. He could hear gossip from a mile away. “Okay so, where should we start?” [Name] asked Dipper and Mabel. Mabel hummed in thought before gasping. “The houseware store!”

[Name] nodded. “Exactly. Let’s get a move on then,” he declared and began to walk. Mabel decided to take a chance to reveal her master plan.

She let Dipper and [Name] walk a bit further from them before snatching Bill. “Listen, Bill. My plan is to make sure you live a normal human life! I think this therapy thing can work out for you! You just need some pizazz for your new life!”

Bill blinked and shrugged. “Okay,"

Mabel frowned a bit. “Hey, what happened to you? You’re usually obnoxiously flashy and psychotic… Now you’re making Dipper seem more entertaining,” she asked with concern. Bill sighed and shook his head. “I’m just not in my best mood. I guess I lost all of my ‘me’ after I died,"

Mabel gave him a sympathetic look but smiled, “Well, I’m sure we can get you feeling better in no time! Just, uh… Don’t try any funny business,"

Bill chuckled. “I couldn’t even if I tried,"

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

The houseware store should be considered a World Wonder.

Bill looked around in awe at the sheer amount of things being sold there. He looked over at [Name] and bit his lower lip, “Your plan..?”

[Name] blinked before realization dawned on him. “Oh shit, right! So, Dipper and Mabel are gonna head off to buy you some new clothes while you and I browse for things to make your room feel more… well, you,"

Bill chuckled. “Oh you don’t know the things I like, Two-Legs," Bill playfully poked [Name]’s nose and began to walk in a random direction. [Name] suddenly remembered he had to keep an eye on Bill, he immediately powerwalked after him.

Mabel smiled bright. “C’mon, bro-bro! Let’s get Bill clothes!” Dipper followed close with a slight concerned expression. “Uh, Mabel? What kind of clothes would Bill even wear? What size is he?!”

Mabel pondered as she walked toward a clothing store. “Well… He’s pretty lanky so I can assume he’d be a size S!”

Dipper shrugged but followed his sister into the clothing store.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Bill looked around the aisles of the houseware store and frowned, nothing caught his interest. “Ugh…” [Name] looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Bill?”

Bill just sighed. “Nothing here is my style, brainbox…” He said dramatically and looked at [Name]. “My tastes are too… otherworldly for this store," The taller male hummed thoughtfully before looking at Bill. “Wanna check out the antique store?”

Bill almost tripped from how fast he stopped pacing around. He looked at [Name] with the brightest smile and nodded. “Oh you read my mind doncha’, brainbox? Let’s go," He eagerly followed [Name] out of the store with a pleased smile. 

…

“You just made me spend $3,000 on an antique shop," [Name] muttered as he stared at the floor. Bill smiled as he held his bag full of antiques.

“And I said thank you~” Bill reminded him with a little smug smirk. [Name] just laughed weakly and stared at the receipt again. He heard some excited squeals and looked up. “[Name]! [Name]!!!”

He sat up only to be knocked down by Mabel headbutting him straight to his stomach. [Name] groaned loudly and almost cried. Bill looked down and raised an eyebrow. “Whatcha got there, shooting star?” Mabel just smiled, “Nothinggg… DIPPER HIDE THE BAGS!” She practically yelled at her twin, almost making Dipper scream.

[Name] looked at his watch and sighed. “Well, I think we can head home now,” Mabel nodded, yawned and Dipper did the same, Bill laughed a little. “Aww, look at you two little dummies! Seems like some kids need bed, huh?”

Dipper lazily glared at Bill and Mabel just smiled. “You’re getting your Billy-ness back…”

…Billy…

Bill just laughed dismissively. “Get a move on, yeah?” Dipper mumbled something about Bill not being allowed to boss them around; meanwhile, Mabel took her brother’s hand and began to walk in front of the two men.

Bill decided to take the words his doctor said to him once to heart. “Um… Thanks for taking care of me, [Name]... You didn’t have to.”

[Name] smiled at him. “Well… When I saw you sleeping on the floor in that moldy room, I knew I had to step in… I can feel something in you, Bill,” he said as he placed a hand on Bill’s back. “Let’s get you back home.”

Bill felt warm inside again.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

<- Prologue | Chapter 2 ->

taglist: @cyber-dump-171 @nephalem-da @magicalbunbun

would you like to join the taglist for the next chapter? -> Click here!

[godhandler]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#6 - Husbandly Duties

[noritoshi kamo wrangles with his family to get you into jujutsu tech school + gojo satoru keeps his word]

[tw : 1000+ words, noritoshi kamo x reader, child marriage, arranged marriage, misogyny, girlie gets access to schooling, malala would like this chapter]

#5 - Man and Wife #7 - Jealousy, Jealousy

Gojo Satoru stood on the doorstep of the Kamo Clan the next morning. “Am I too early? I stopped to pick up a present for the newlyweds!”

Within the next ten minutes, Noritoshi had been woken up, urgently dressed and washed, and sat in front of Gojo Satoru, with all the elders of the family in tow. Satoru’s sudden arrival had soured the mood of the whole family; everyone expected some upsetting news or the other. Satoru himself seemed to take no notice of this. “Is your wife bothering you already, Noritoshi-kun?” He beamed at the half-awake half-worried young heir. “She’s so bossy! As her benefactor, I can tell that she’s a handful!”. 

Benefactor, huh? Noritoshi was impressed, quite frankly. Somehow or the other, you had won the support of Gojo Satoru himself, and that too secretly. Since the conversation was turning to his wife, he had no choice but to speak. I’m in no mood for your nonsense. Spit it out, Gojo.

“My wife has been sweet, Gojo-sensei. How have you been?” He answered. “Would you like some tea?” Satoru understood what he meant-- “How important is this conversation?” 

“I believe we should all have some.” (“Important and involving the whole family. Sorry”)

Gojo had come here to vouch for your admission into Jujutsu High Tech School. Apparently, it was the wedding gift from the Gojo Clan to the newly bridged Zenin-Kamo one: Satoru himself would overlook the education of the young couple. On the surface, it seemed a rare opportunity to learn from the strongest sorcerer himself. But every Kamo family member sitting in the room understood the threat behind his words: The young bride is now under my protection. I’ll keep an eye out for her. Don’t cross me. 

The Kamos erupted with anger, all polite social manners thrown to the winds. Noritoshi’s father threw a tea-cup at Satoru (blocked by his Infinity) and an uncle called him a “flyhead meddling in an ox’s dung”. 

Satoru watched as Noritoshi sighed and started to calm people down. He requested the women to not trouble themselves with inelegant family matters anymore, and they silently left the room. Then he ordered the servants to clean up the spilled tea, get some fresh oolong out, and light some incense. Finally, he waited till his male relatives cooled off by themselves (took a few minutes) before finally speaking up: “My apologies, Father, Grandfather. But I would feel rather insulted as a man, albeit a young one, if matters of my wife were to be discussed with other men. Do I have your permission to speak to Gojo-sensei alone about this?”

“No, no– you’re too soft on–” 

“Let him, son.” Noritoshi’s grandfather placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. “He’s a man now. He knows how to think. Show our Satoru-kun the gardens, Noritoshi.”

Amazing. Gojo really appreciated the boy now. He handles people so easily. Noritoshi bowed low to them and gracefully guided Satoru to walk with him in the gardens. Like you did, some months ago.

“My apologies, Gojo-sensei.”

“No, no, the tea was good though.”

“Ah, it’s from our own gardens. So about Zenin-san…”

“She wants to join Jujutsu High." Satoru replied. “You’ve no problems with it, I suppose.”

“Hmm” Noritoshi took a minute to fully consider it. It's fine, right? I don't see how this could hurt anyone. As long as she behaves herself, it should be fine. “None, I think. Besides, her cousin Mai studies with me too.”

Noritoshi had wanted to look Gojo fully in the eye and ask, why? What does she have over you that you are helping her so much? What secrets do you keep amongst you two? Why does she trust you so well?

Of course, Noritoshi didn’t say a word. He just nodded and signed the stack of paperwork for your school admission. He had full rights to do so. He was your guardian, after all. His hand stayed a bit before signing a paper declaring that ‘The liability of said sorcerer's death falls upon the undersigned.’ But he signed it anyway. 

His family was screamed at him later on for allowing you to leave for school. He saw you snickering at him from behind the curtains, watching him get yelled at for your sake. He scoffed. What a fucking pain in the ass kid. 

—--

“You know, you could have just told me.” Noritoshi and you are back in your bedroom again. You look up from the Jackie Chan movie playing on the TV as you laze on the sofa. 

Damn. Noritoshi is just getting out of the shower, towelling his hair dry roughly, clad only in his soft blue bathrobe. You can see drops of water dripping down his face to his broad chest. You quickly look away. Damn, Kamo. “Aghh, cover up, idiot! What the heck are you doing?” You grit out. “Shameless ass!”

He grumbles at that. “At least say thank you”. Ungrateful little bastard. You manage to piss him off like no one ever can. Except Todo, maybe. “If you had only told me about Gojo-sensei beforehand, everything would have gone by a lot smoother.”

You choose to pretend that you can’t hear anything, instead turning up the volume of the TV. You know exactly how to get under his skin. Actually, you weren’t too sure that Noritoshi would agree to your schooling as quickly as he did; you don’t actually know Noritoshi, do you? You did have a few cards up your sleeve to get him to acquiesce to your wishes (you had those cards on everybody, actually. It’s good armour for someone as defenceless as you.)

Noritoshi chooses to answer your silence with his own silence. You two were leaving for school less than a week now, even though you were going to the Tokyo school (Satoru Gojo’s personal request). Less than a week and he’d be rid of his annoying immature wife. 

He huffed at the thought, pulling a yukata onto him. You make it a distinct point NOT to look at him when he’s changing, no matter how red your face gets at the thought. One week and I’m out of here. He casts a look back at you. Oh, you’re blushing? How cute of you. His heart softened a little. Her, a sorcerer? Gods look after her. 

#7 - Jealousy, Jealousy

art from the amazing @null-cult, go check out their stuff, it's so cool. thanks for letting me use it!!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Oh my god, I was enjoying it enough but very quickly it has become my favorite to get updates on (even more than GOMM 😳). So, please some for boy dad (a fantastic departure from the usual girl dad dynamic!!) Buck!

🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻🗻

- Sarah

Thank you! So happy you're liking this one!

90 for 🗻:

---

"I don’t have any rights to Arthur.”

Karen nods. “It’s hard. This much worry, and valid worry. I get it.”

Eddie knows she does. He doesn’t know a ton about their situation with Denny’s birth mother, but he certainly remembers the shit they went through to get Mara back. 

“It’s not even really about me,” Eddie says. “I’m making it about me. It’s about Buck and Artie.”

“No,” Karen shakes her head. “That’s not true. You are his father, too. In every way that counts How you feel about this matters.”

Eddie inhales. Nods. 

“Thanks, Karen,” he mumbles. 

“At one time or another, I had to fight to keep both my kids,” Karen reminds him. “But they ended up where they belonged. And I really believe Artie will, too.”

She sounds so sure. Eddie wishes he was that sure.

“Thank you,” he says again. 

Karen smiles. She reaches out and ruffles Artie’s curls.

“You’re one lucky little guy,” she coos at him. 

Eddie chuckles. “We’re lucky.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “You are.”

🗻

Buck finds Eddie and Karen a minute or so later. He tells them that sent Jaylin away.

“I said we could find a time for her to see him, but today wasn’t appropriate and dropping in without warning isn’t acceptable.”

And is proud of him. Really, he is. Eddie was afraid of Buck’s people pleasing. Of Buck giving in. But he’s held firm. Arthur needs him to make some of the mean decisions, now. The uncomfortable decisions. And, honestly? So does Eddie. Maybe that’s not right of him, but it’s true. 

They go back to the party and try to finish it normally. Though nothing feels normal. And everybody in the room knows there’s a threat to their little family, but no one says a word about it for the rest of the evening. 

v.

Less than a week later, Jaylin is back on their front porch. This time, by invitation. To see her son for the first time in over nine months. 

Eddie has done this dance before. Christmas Day, 2018. Shannon. That had been a much longer gap in absence. But Chris was old enough to remember. To miss his mother. To need her back in his life. And Eddie knew Shannon. He knew her heart. Even if it had taken him a while to trust her not to make a mistake again, he always knew she wouldn’t be reckless with Christopher. She wouldn’t put him in the sort of position Jaylin had put Christopher in. What reason does he have to extend the same faith now? None. 

Eddie doesn’t really participate in the visit. He’s there. In the background. Like a dog pacing up and down the fenceline, waiting for a threat to its home. He watches vigilantly. Because, although this is between Buck and Jaylin, Eddie has so much at stake. 

She sits down on the couch, eyes downcast. She looked ashamed. Eddie supposes he would, too. No. Not would. Did. He did feel so ashamed. When he would come home from Afghanistan and Chris would cry when Eddie held him. He felt rotten. He felt wrong. He knows exactly how she feels right now. He just can’t bring himself to feel bad for her. He should, but he doesn’t. 

Buck brings Artie to her. Eddie watches his body language as he hands their son over to the woman who left him without a word. His jaw is tight. Clenched. His fingers hesitate, letting go. His eyes are the electric sort of blue that lets Eddie know he’s close to crying. He hates this. He hates this just as much as Eddie. More, maybe. 

[catiecat1320]

Sonadowtober Prompt 30: Heist

Sonic and team break into a GUN facility to steal Project Shadow's confidential files. They're probably justified, but it doesn't stop them from hitting a road bump

Sonic Movie 3 Spoilers!!

Read Below🔽

“So, we all know the plan, right?” Sonic tented his hands in front of his face, smirking behind his fingers. “Are we good to go?”

Tails peered up from his tablet and gave a silent thumbs up while Knuckles punched his fists together with a crackle of chaos energy. “I am ready to break glass in case of emergency.”

“Great! Emphasis on emergency, okay big guy?” Sonic doesn’t wait for an answer, turning to the other hedgehog in the room. He was the one they were doing all this for, after all. “Shadow?”

Shadow glanced up at him, arms crossed over his middle. He looked… hesitant. The three brothers wait for his answer expectantly. “...You don’t have to do this,” he finally settles on. 

“Aw c’mon, Shadow! It’s not like we don’t wanna. It’ll be fun!” Sonic immediately exclaims.

“Fun?” Red eyes sweep around the room. “Last time you stepped foot in a GUN facility, Mr. Wachowski came out half-dead. That’s not fun.”

“Well, that was only because y—” Sonic stops himself short, realizing what he was about to say might not be the best choice of words. Everyone knew what he was onto though; Tails shot him a look that he was not about to decipher. So in an epic save, Sonic says, “Well, he won’t be there this time!”

Knuckles huffed. “That is true, more impressive Hedgehog. You don’t have to worry. I will crush any threats with my fists.”

“In case of emergency,” Sonic adds, putting a hand on Shadow’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, I promise. Besides, we have you this time, don’t we? Instead of just me breaking in, you’ll be there with your cool teleporting and stuff!”

The striped hedgehog lets out a sigh. Then he nods, just once.

“Alright! Time to steal files and kick butt!”

“The objective is to go in and out undetected, Sonic,” Tails reminds him, rolling his eyes. 

“Shhhh, don’t be a killjoy, Tails.” 

…

“Aw yeah, this is happening!” Sonic giggled, dizzy from teleportation. Chaos Control. Whatever you call it. It was sure handy for getting places they aren’t supposed to access. “Hmmm… Ya gotta teach me how to do that sometime.” He stumbled, then draped himself over Shadow, the only stable thing in vicinity.

Crimson eyes looked over him with an unreadable emotion. “Focus.”

“Alright, alright.” Sonic shook his head clear and let go of the other to bop his communicator. “Tails! We’re in! Where are we headed?”

A crackle of static, then the kit’s voice came through. “Okay. Turn left down the hallway. Follow it to the end. You should find a locked door. Stop there, plug in the green drive,  and I’ll unlock it for you.”

“Awesome.” Sonic then promptly turned right. In his defense, he kind of forgot which side was left. It was a common mistake!

Anyway, Shadow caught his arm before he could accidentally go the wrong way, wordlessly dragging the other hedgehog with him while the mistake caught up. “Oh! Oops. Right, right.”

“No. Left, left.”

A second’s pause, then emerald eyes snapped up in shock. “Excuse me? Was that a joke?”

The smallest smile quirked on Shadow’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That was totally a joke!” Sonic couldn’t stop himself from grinning. But the moment was over once they reached the aforementioned door, that smile of Shadow’s dropping as quickly as it took place.

There was a tense silence as they plugged in a device allowing Tails to hijack the door remotely. The silence remained even as the kit gave them the green light, the only noise a stilted hum of acknowledgement in response before communications were cut.

The room was dark. Or more accurately, the little hallway was dark. There was nothing in it but another door on the far side.

Sonic cut through the tension as they both stepped in, unable to handle any more quiet. “This place is creepy,” he whispers. His voice echoes.

Sonic jumps as the door slams shut, leaving just the light of keypads and buttons and the natural glow of the hedgehogs’ chaos energy. Suddenly, he feels a hand in his, giving a gentle squeeze. Emerald eyes meet carmine red as Sonic squeezes back. In the dark, he hopes Shadow can see his smile. “Ready?”

Shadow answers by walking over and opening the other door.

Inside is a whole array of technology that neither hedgehog knows the function of. But luckily they have a certain fox who can figure it out for them. Sonic whips out another handy-dandy USB and sticks it in the nearest, most important-looking port. “Hey Tails, did I do it right?”

“Yes! Just a little work and then… got it!” His excitement is audible even with bad connection. “Thanks Sonic!”

“No problemo, buddy. All in a day’s work or whatever they say. Right, Shadow?” Sonic looks up to find the other hedgehog spacing out, focusing on something that didn’t seem to be in the room. “Uh. Tails, I’ll get back to ya. Shadow? You alright there?”

Crimson eyes spark with energy. “I can feel it. It’s somewhere near.”

“Buddy, you gotta tell me what it is,” Sonic huffs in mock frustration. Apparently his act is stupid enough to warrant attention, because it brings Shadow back down to Earth with a slight eye roll.

“Chaos energy. A lot of it. I thought you would be able to tell.”

Sonic opens his mouth to say something, then clamps it shut, then opens it again. “I… y’know what, let’s just go find whatever this is. Lead the way, chaos detector!”

“Don’t call me that,” Shadow grumbles, but he takes the lead regardless. 

The closer they get, the more Sonic realizes that he does in fact feel chaos energy from this mystery source. He just hadn’t known the buzzing in the back of his head was that.

The more you know, he supposed.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, some of which may or may not have pertained to how tightly Shadow was holding his hand, Sonic nearly ran into the other when they stopped. 

“Didya find it?” Sonic piped, looking over Shadow’s shoulder to peek at whatever it was. Golden orange energy sparked in cylindrical containers, calling out to his own neon blue. It was… familiar.

Shadow suddenly squeezed his hand, not unlike how Knuckles gives handshakes. As in, so hard it hurt.

“Ack! Shads—!” Sonic scrabbled at the other’s fist with his free hand. Miraculously, Shadow loosened his grip before breaking any bones. 

“S-sorry…”

The blue hedgehog waved it off. “It’s fine! So what is that?”

“My energy.” Shadow growled. Electricity flies in his quills, and Sonic sees the similarities. He opens his mouth to ask how in the world GUN got such a thing before being interrupted with his answer. “They used to collect it from me. Back then. They… I thought it was all gone. I-I have to get rid of it.”

“Okay,” Sonic said, a hesitant lilt to his voice. “What do we do?” He moves to grab one of the canisters, only to be stopped by Shadow yanking him back.

“NO! Don’t touch it. Don’t touch them.” Crimson eyes flicker with panic as he gasps, looking around the room in desperation. “If it breaks we’re all… we’re all dead.”

Something tells Sonic that it was experience speaking. He didn’t like that. “Hey. Calm down. I won’t—”

He never gets to finish his sentence. Because right then, his communicator lets out a burst of static and goes offline, just as alarms screech to life overhead. Both hedgehogs freeze, turning at the same time as they hear the door they entered through slide open, introducing heavy footsteps that manifest as at least a dozen soldiers bearing glowing guns. One of them carried Tails’ flash drive.

“Oh crap,” Sonic spat, just as the front guy shouted at them, waving his weapon in threat.

“Stand down! On the floor, both of you!”

“I can’t stand and sit, y’know,” the blue hedgehog quipped. He hoped his irritation was clear. The gun in his face glowed just a bit brighter as the hand of the trigger tightened. Beside him, Shadow let out a distressed noise as his claws dug into Sonic’s palm with a new intensity.

“On the floor!”

Shadow dropped immediately, his body stiff. Sonic bit his cheek lining, then slowly followed, putting his hands up in appeasement. The guns stayed trained on him. He wondered if he could…

“Shadow, you gotta let go of me,” Sonic whispered, shaking the hand still tightly in the other’s grasp. The guy that had been shouting, likely the higher up in this stupid squad, narrowed his eyes. The blue hedgehog shot him a sheepish smile and nudged Shadow again.

All he got in return was a shaky exhale and a tighter grip. Sonic winced at the pain and spared a glance at Shadow. The other hedgehog wasn’t faring well, to say the least. His eyes were blown wide with fear, staring right past all the GUN soldiers in front of them; his mouth hung open, yet he seemed to barely breathe. 

Well, Sonic would have to solve this himself. Go figure.

Someone new came in. Several someones. With handcuffs and tasers. Sonic’s quills raised in disgust. 

Oh, screw this. We’re breaking out the old-fashioned way. 

Silently noting a sorry to Shadow, he stabbed his own claws into the other’s hand and pulled away while shock set in.

Everything devolved into chaos as Sonic curled into a spiky ball of chaos energy and launched himself at the closest agent, knocking their gun away before they could blink. He kicked off them and crashed into someone else, causing a domino effect that took down half the group. Everyone started yelling at the same time: orders, swears, and general panic mixed into one loud mess, with the occasional zip of a shot haphazardly fired.

The only thing Sonic heard clearly was the almost painful way Shadow cried out his name, pitched and panic-laden.

He faltered, looking over his shoulder to make sure his mission partner was okay. Bad idea: a gun butt immediately swung into his face, knocking him to the floor. White static flashed as his head cracked on cold metal, and his vision returned half a second later to a glowing barrel aimed between his eyes.

“Wait—” was all he managed to choke out before the world flipped inside out.

…

Sonic opened his eyes to blue. Blue and fluffy white. Grass blades beneath him tickled his fur funny and he sat up, his surroundings coming into view. “I’m… I’m alive!”

Sleek black and bright red assaulted his vision next as he was enveloped in a crushing hug by none other than Shadow. He buried his face into the crook of Sonic’s neck, trembling as he ran his gloved hands up and down the curve of the other’s spine. “Wha… hey? I forgot you could teleport, huh. Nice save!”

It took a moment of awkward silence for Sonic to realize that Shadow was crying.

Oh. Oh.

“...hey,” he whispered after processing that information for a good minute, nuzzling the sobbing hedgehog in his arms gently. “Are you… okay?”

Stupid question. Of course not. But it made Shadow peel away, giving Sonic a good look at the wreck that was his face, with hot tears streaming down his cheeks and devastation dancing in his sunset-red eyes. 

“...are you?” Shadow croaked instead of giving an answer, squeezing the other’s shoulders like his life depended on it. 

Sonic blinked owlishly. “Well, yeah. You’re the one crying.”

That did it. “You’re the one who almost died!” Shadow choked, and the tears came a little faster. “They… they almost shot you! When you attacked—! I almost lost you. J-just like her. She died like that, Sonic. In a room with my chaos energy. She…they blew it all up. With a gunshot. They… when they were shooting in there I thought you’d die, Sonic, I’m not ready to lose you.”

His ramble stopped when Sonic pulled him into a hug again, tucking the striped hedgehog’s head under his chin as he rocked them both back and forth. Shadow buried his face into Sonic’s chest and sobbed as the latter whispered assurances into his ear. “You didn’t lose me, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

“You… never do that again, Sonic. Please,” Shadow hiccuped, lifting his head up enough to meet Sonic’s eyes. “I don’t like being scared.”

“...No promises,” Sonic murmured, and the other stiffened in his arms. He quickly added, “But I’ll try. You know I die hard, Shads. I’m not leaving any time soon, alright? I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. I can promise that.”

Shadow sniffled, tears tapering off. Slowly, he nodded, and Sonic smiled at him.

The moment was ruined when garbled static crawled out of Sonic’s communicator.

“...break the glass?”

“No, wait! I’ve got it! They’re coming through! Sonic? Shadow? Are you alright?”

Sonic looked to Shadow, who stared right back with a minute nod. “Yep! Had a close call but we’ll be back in a moment!”

“Alright! The mission was a success, by the way. I stole all the files from Project Shadow and wiped them from GUN’s database!”

“Good job, buddy!” Sonic smiled widely at Shadow, who returned it with a soft one of his own.

At least they got what they came for.

[cloudcountry]

like real people do: solomon

they've seen the world shift and change throughout their long, long lives, but if they could they would have given it all up just to be with you.

~~~~~

I would not ask you where you came from I would not ask and neither would you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do.

~~~~~

There’s a dull ache in his back as Solomon works on his new project. It’s a memento he was to bestow upon them, yet another gift that’s meant to protect them from the demons they’re surrounded with on a daily basis. Solomon has convinced himself that if he works hard enough, he can have them for just a day longer, he can make space in the universe for just a little bit more time in their lifespan, all without directly affecting their mortality. He doesn’t want them to turn out like him. He doesn’t want them to watch everyone around them grow old and forget their face, to be a wisp of what was once human as time slips away from them.

The brothers often compare him to a demon. Though he is still a human at heart, there is very little humanity left in him.

Solomon has come to terms with the fact that he will never have a chance to truly be with them, as they’re always surrounded by the brothers and the Prince of the Devildom himself, plus the prince’s own butler and an angel that could give them far more than Solomon ever could. He cannot fascinate them with wings or shift forms to protect them, nor can he wow them with extensive knowledge of a world they are not familiar with. Though Solomon hides it well, the fact of the matter is that he will always feel inferior to everyone else that chases after their heart, and yearns for the moment when they turn their eyes to him and promise him their entire being. He wants their soul, he wants their body, he wants anything and everything they have to offer. He wants to swallow them whole and clutch them to his chest, if only to keep them safe from all the demons (and angels, too, as Simeon is just as devious as a demon) that might try and lead them astray.

Solomon takes a moment to admire the finally finished product, intertwining his fingers and thrusting his arms over his head. His joints crack pleasantly, and he pushes himself up out of the chair with a satisfied sigh. Now that the little object is complete, all he has to do is cast a protection spell on it. It’s a simple thing, just meant to keep the brothers out of their room when they want their own space, something that he knew they would appreciate on days when he wasn’t there to whisk them away from the chaos and loudness of the House of Lamentation.

It was silly to worry about him not being around, as they were the ones with a much shorter lifespan.

How silly of him to lament on such an obvious thing.

Solomon sighs again, gently lifting the precious little object into his hands.

“Spirit of affection, spirit of love, spirit of benevolence, offer your power to the object before me, so that the loved one I bestow it upon shall be protected of all they deem a threat.”

A soft glow emanates from it, and Solomon slams his eyes shut in order to pour as much love as he can into it. His heart opens like a set of floodgates holding back a tsunami, and he’s reminded of the urge to consume them whole. Fuck, he needs them. He needs them so much, every day is so much brighter with them and it’s like he doesn’t need to be lonely anymore. They’re so terrible for making him so dependent. He doesn’t know how he’ll manage anymore, not when he’s pledged his everything to you for as long as his lifespan drags on. He can only open his eyes and wish he was a better man, wish he could say for certain that he wouldn’t go digging in every spellbook he could find for a way to bring them back once they've passed.

That’s not his choice to make.

He mutters another incantation under his breath, and this one brings him right into their room. Ironically enough, he’s the one invading their room. Didn’t he make this for them so this wouldn’t happen?

Just the demon brothers, he thinks as he sets the gift on your bed, Just them.

Because obviously, Solomon is special. He means more to them.

Right?

He wants to mean more. He wants to be number one on their list, always.

He’d drop everything for them in a second if that's what they wanted him to do.

He decides to wait for them, since they’re most likely gaming with the Avatar of Envy right now. Whether they’re doing it to pacify his jealousy or because they genuinely like spending time with him, he doesn’t know. He hopes it’s just to pacify Leviathan. He wants them all to himself, being the selfish man he is.

He wishes he were a better man.

He only has to wait a few minutes more before the door clicks and swings open, their form slipping into the safety of their room. They turn around after the door is shut and jump when they see him, but they don’t scream. They smile.

Fuck, he’s in love with that smile. He wants to see it every day for all eternity.

“Hey Solomon.” they hum, approaching him far too quickly and smoothing back his hair like they’ve done it a million times before, “Do you need something for me?”

He needs so much from you.

“I wanted to give you something.” he snickers, a mischievous grin masking the fluttering butterflies in his belly, “It’s a gift. Don’t think too hard about it.”

They laugh, and he resists the urge to take them into his arms.

“Oh, when you say things like that it makes me nervous.” they shake their head, amusement evident as they take the object from him, “So, what do this one do? Prevent Beel from eating my snacks? Stop Mammon from stealing my spare Grim?”

“Even better.” Solomon chirps, “It’ll be helpful in the future, I can assure you.”

“You’re avoiding the question.” they roll their eyes, but there’s no malice behind it, “It’s never easy to get an answer out of you, huh?”

“I promise it’s nothing dangerous.” he jokes, eyes trailing after them as they sit down on their bed.

“It’s okay, Sol. I trust you.” they pat the spot on the bed next to them, an affectionate mirth blooming on their face, “You’re always doing so much to protect me...makes me want to protect you too.”

A moment of silence. Solomon doesn’t move. Sol sounds so much like Soul that it has heat creeping onto his cheeks and his pupil blown wide. Shocked by the affectionate name, he laughs.

“Don’t laugh! I know I can’t protect you as well as I'd like yet...and you’re capable of protecting yourself and me.” they murmur, holding the silly little thing he made them so gently in their hands.

“I can’t protect you from everything.” Solomon says seriously, taking their offer to sit down. He’s closer to them than he should be, he knows this, but they don’t pull away so he doesn’t either, “I can’t protect you from your own mortality. You must know this.”

Their smiling face turns equally as serious in the blink of an eye, but Solomon stands his ground. It’s an inevitability that they steer clear from, something they don't discuss even if it feels as though it’s going to break them apart. It will eventually, he reminds himself, and he has to be careful or else he’ll become too greedy and selfish and ransack the world—no, the three realms—for any way to make you just as cursed as he was.

“I can protect myself from that. I’ll find a way.” they say, so certain that they will.

It sends a shiver down Solomon’s spine.

“After all, I can’t just leave you alone, now can I?” they hum, turning away from him to place his newest project on their bedside table, “Not my Solomon. I’m staying with him for all eternity.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” he laughs shakily, desperately hoping that what they’re saying is true and that they actually mean all the things they say, because if that’s the case that means they genuinely want to stay with him for that long and he’ll never have to be alone anymore. It means that they’re willing to give up their humanity for him and the rest of their loved ones and the world they know right now.

All of it. All of it pales in comparison to him in their eyes.

He’s going to cry.

“MC...I can’t let you do that. You know I can’t.” he mumbles, reaching out for them. It doesn’t matter what he touches, he just needs to feel them, to know that they’re there and they won’t leave him even though it would be better for them if they did.

“It’s not your decision to make.” they say, and they meet him halfway with their gentle hands that hold him like he’s breakable even though he’s been through far more than they have.

“Can I not influence it a bit?” he laughs brokenly, slamming his eyes shut so he doesn’t have to look at their face.

“Not if you’re going to tell me no or all the reasons I shouldn’t stay with you.” they whisper, using their free hand to tangle their fingers through his hair and pull him into their chest, “Why are you denying yourself love? Why do you try to perpetuate this cycle of loneliness that you’ve been trapped in? I’m not saying my decision will fix everything or make it better, but I want to be with you even if it gets worse. Just trust me.”

Solomon does.

He trusts them and he believes them, so much so that that is the problem.

“I do.” he sighs, leaning into them like they’re the last person he will ever touch, “I trust you completely, and that’s the problem. I know that you’re being honest and I know you fully intend to pursue immortality, but-”

He stops to catch a breath, and they wait patiently for him as he tries to make sense of all the swirling thoughts in his mind. Even a millennia of experience wouldn’t have prepared him for what he was facing right now. He can’t let them do this. He just can't. He knows better than they do what being immortal entails, he can’t let them go down the same path.

“I…Please, listen to me.” he cries out, feeling tense behind his eyes as he begs them not to go through with it.

“I can’t just die.” they whisper. Those four words sound like shattered glass, cutting up his heart and he’s sure they’ll leave scars, whether they succeed or not.

“I know.” he concedes, head bumping against their shoulder defeatedly, “I know you can’t. I don’t want you to.”

They make a soft sound of acknowledgement, and he knows they’re aware of his internal conflict. They figure everything out so easily. He wishes they weren’t as smart.

They busy themselves by stroking the back of his head while he’s silent. Solomon leans into the loving touch, and finds himself listening to the steady thumping of their heart. It’s an unimaginable feeling for someone like him, being so close to another person, a fragile person, a person that cannot be as frivolous with their lifespan as he is.

And so he listens, and takes it all in.

Their hearts stutter.

It’s aching, he can sense it.

Despite the pain they both feel, it’s like their souls are being interconnected just by the closeness of their fragile human bodies, and he wishes their soul would be all his. He wants to feel what they feel, absorb all of their pain and sorrow so he can protect them even further.

“I’m not going to ask how you became immortal.” they mutter into his hair, giving him a gentle squeeze, “I know you won’t tell me. I’m going to figure this out by myself, and prove to you that I can handle immortality by your side.”

You can't do that is what he wants to say.

He can’t bring himself to say it.

If only he were a better man.

“I love you.” he says, and whether it’s a response to what they said or an impromptu confession he doesn’t know.

All he knows is that the reciprocated “I love you more,” is all he needed to hear.

[froggywritesstuff]

compromise | yandere!j.d

ship/pairing: yan!jd x g/n!willing!reader

request: anon: helloo, could you do a yan jd but with a willing reader? like they really don't give a shit about anything and ignore all the red flags. thank you and have a good day!!

warnings: yandere themes, manipulation, toxic relationships, death threats (both implied and explicit), minor character death, not proofread

A/N: this is like the anti 'I Say No'. ty for requesting this, it was a bit difficult to write as i've never written this kind of concept and i've been going through some major writers block, but i hope you like it, sorry if it doesn't make sense. i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

The sound of the phone ringing made you stand up quickly, already knowing who was calling.

"Jesus, Y/N, again? This is like the fifth time he's called." your friend groaned in annoyance. They were never a fan of your boyfriend, especially after he kept interrupting their time to hang out with you.

You sent Parker an apologetic smile, "I know, I'm sorry, he just gets annoyed if I ignore him."

Rushing to answer the phone, you couldn't see Parker's look of concern as you said that.

"JD, you know I'm fine, right?" you said, grinning as you spoke.

"You never know, Y/N. Anything can happen when you invite a stranger into your home."

"Parker's not a stranger, babe. You have nothing to worry about," you were practically pleading with him, though you knew he wouldn't drop the subject easily.

"Oh, so I'm not allowed to worry about you anymore?" he retorted, laughing to hide the harsh tone in his words.

That wasn't what you said at all, but why argue over it? You'd never win.

"Of course you are," you responded sweetly, "But I know Parker's annoyed you're interrupting our sleepover." you said it as a joke, not thinking enough to know JD would take offence.

"Well would Parker rather me do what I have every right to do and talk to you, or wake up with a bullet in their head."

You whipped your head around to face Parker, checking that they weren't close enough to hear before turning back, "The first option." you said, rolling your eyes, feeling a smile tug on your lips. You knew it was bad he made threats like that, especially when you never knew if those threats were just threats, or if he'd follow through with them, but you knew there was no use in fighting him. Over time you had become desensitised to his toxic behaviour. It was just easier to let him try to control your life, especially when you knew he could end it with ease.

"I thought so." you could practically hear his smirk over the phone. The two of you continued talking for a few minutes, much to Parker's disappointment, before JD finally let you hang up. You turned to face Parker, frowning when they left the room. You walked out the door and called out their name, which was followed by Parker responding in a rather annoyed tone, "I'm in the kitchen."

You walked to the kitchen, smiling as you saw Parker, "Sorry that took so long, I know it's annoying, he's just really protective."

Parker took a sip from the glass of water in their hands, "Does he think I'm an axe murderer or something? He calls you non-stop every time we hang out, what's his deal?"

You sighed, thinking carefully about what to say, "He... he just doesn't trust a lot of people around me."

Parker shook their head in disbelief, "I've known you for years, Y/N. Longer than he's known you." You were grateful for that fact. If JD had met you before Parker, you would've never been friends. He drove away anyone who tried to get close to you. You let JD do a lot of things, but you never let him drive Parker away. Of course, you had to beg him not to hurt them.

"I know, he just..." you trailed off. You genuinely didn't know how to defend him.

Parker sighed, "Y/N, I'm happy you have a boyfriend, I think it's great. But you have to understand that JD is not a good boyfriend."

"Yes he is, he's just a lot sometimes."

Parker rolled their eyes, "I don't understand why you're still with him, he's such a dick." noticing your hurt expression, Parker set their glass of water down, and moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "I'm sorry... I know you love him, he just..."

You smiled at them, "Let's just not talk about him tonight." 

As much as you loved Parker, you knew if they continued talking about JD like that, you'd both end up saying something you'd regret.

Like you said, JD wasn't brought up for the rest of the night. Luckily, he decided to stop calling you as well. The rest of the sleepover carried on like normal sleepovers would, you and Parker talking for nearly the entire night, until the sun eventually came up, and in what felt like no time at all, Parker went back home.

You sat in your room, thinking of ways to entertain yourself, when you heard a knock at the window. You jumped in fear, calming yourself when you saw your boyfriend smiling from the other side. You stood up, opening up the window and pulling your boyfriend inside and embracing him into a hug.

"I missed you," he mumbled, pressing a kiss on your head.

You laughed against his chest, "I know Jason."

He pulled away from the hug, kissed your lips, before he spoke, "About last night..." your heart dropped as he pulled out some polaroid pictures from his coat pocket. Whenever he killed someone he always took pictures and showed them to you. And you knew he was more than capable of killing Parker.

"I know you don't want me hurting Parker," you mentally braced for the news, "So I found a compromise."

You stared at him in confusion, "A compromise."

He nodded, grinning wide as he handed you the pictures.

"Is this..." you trailed off, staring up at your boyfriend, lips turning upward into a smile.

"Billy Jameson, Johnson?" 

"Billy Jackson," you finished, "from my english class."

He smiled at your excitement, "He's the dickhead in your class, right?"

You nodded, a part of you was scared that he forgot his reason for killing someone, but there was no use in bringing that up, "Yeah, he fucking sucks." you said, staring at the pictures of Billy's hanging corpse.

"Don't worry, I didn't just knock him out and hang him," he began, "I fucked him up a bit beforehand."

You smiled, pulling him into another hug, "Thank you Jason."

He quickly returned the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, "Anything for you, darling."

[storiesofmyhead]

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: Chishiya gets jealous when Arisu tries to bring Y/n with him to open the safe

Warnings! Kissing, Jealous!Chishiya, use of Y/n

Word count: 1367

“Chishi, I’m tired. Can’t we just go to bed.” Y/n whines.

Shaking his head, he glances over to her. “Not right now. Remember the plan.” He says in a ‘you didn't forget did you’ voice. 

She groans, throwing her head back in annoyance. “But-”

“An hour tops. And then I’m all yours. Sound good?” He says knowing she couldn’t refuse.

“Fineeee.” She drags out following Chishiya out of the room.

Jogging to catch up with his fast strides she grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

~~

“So I’ll ask again. Who thinks Aguni should be leader?” Niragi says in a cocky tone, his gun resting on his shoulder. 

Taking a small step back, Y/n hides behind Chishiya. The nervous gut feeling she gets from Niragi unmatched. 

An takes a small breath, before raising her hand. 

“This is not a democracy.” Mira huffs. Content with An’s answer, Niragi moves over to Mira, his gun close to her head.

“But I think it is, isnt it. You can vote however you want right?” He says though it wasn’t an invitation to vote how everyone really wanted to. So Mira slowly brings her hand up at Niragi’s threat.

“And how about the former number two over there. What do you think?” Remaining silent he raises his hand. 

No matter what everyone really thought, they all knew the power Niragi had over them right now.

“And what about you two? Hm?” Niragi now moves closer to Chishiya, his gun raised, flashing his eyebrows at Y/n.

Chishiya bordley raises his eyes to Niragi, not saying a word as Y/n’s grip on his hand becomes tighter.

“Chishiya~ You’re not lookin’ down on us, are ya?” He says his gun now parallel to his side as he takes a few steps towards the two.

“Yall morons in the corps.” Niragi now angrily steps toe-to-toe with Chishiya, causing Y/n to gasp slightly, as he wraps his arm around her waist pushing her behind him.

Niragi chuckles at the protective movement of Chishiya, switching his gaze to Y/n quickly before landing back on Chishiya. 

“Those eyes of yours piss me off sometimes, you know that?” His gun pointed straight at Chishiya’s head, though he remained calm only slightly shifted back. “You really think you’re better than us, don't ya?”

Chishiya puts his two arms up in surrender, before bringing the left one back down around to Y/n’s waist, his right hand still in the air.

“I vote for Aguni to be the leader.” He says, his voice slightly joking, though Niragi doesn’t seem to care. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you want to hear, don’t you?” 

Scoffing, Niragi takes a big step back. “Well let this be a reminder of how you should act in the future.”

Nervously Y/n’s empty hand plays with the bottom of Chishiya’s jacket, as Niragi’s eyes move to her. Raising one eyebrow, she raises her hand as well.

Head turning towards a scared or shocked Arisu. “Why are you lookin’ so freaked out? I thought I told you to give me an answer.” His gun is now pointing straight into Arisu’s chest.

Though as Niragi taunted the poor kid, Y/n’s ears were filled with sweet nothing’s from Chishiya. He could feel her nervous tendencies behind him, so bringing her in front of him, he knew that whispering to her would cause her to focus on him and his words, nothing else. 

~~

Sitting in Kuina’s room, Chishiya sat in an armchair at the end of the coffee table, with Y/n by his side as she was growing tired. Her clinginess intensing with every second she stayed awake. 

“First Arisu will infiltrate the royal suite. Then he’ll search for the safe, and steal all the playing cards inside.”

A worried look on Arisu’s face. “And how will I get the code?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He replies looking down at the coffee table. “Ill let you know when you’re near the safe.” He slides a walkie-talkie to Arisu.

“I sure hope you’re right.” He says with an unsure look on his face. “Im taking Y/n with me.” he states causing everyone to look up shocked, Chishiya with a glare. “For precautions, you know just in case the walkie-talkie doesn’t work.” He shrugs.

“No.” Chishiya glares, Y/n stands nervously shuffling her feet behind him. 

“Why not? You’re sure of this plan right?” His eyebrow quirks. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us?”

“Fine.” He growls, his eyes darkening. “But you get caught and drag her into it. I’ll make sure sleeping with those bodies in the dumpster.”

~~

Sneaking into the office, Y/n can hear Chishiya’s voice on the walkie-talkie. Her eyes darted around, nervously as she knows the actual plan, well she knew the actual plan. Now that Arisu brought her along, she didn’t know what was gonna happen and that made her nervous.

Punching in the code, the safe beeps signaling that the code was wrong. Arisu now scared, his eyes wide, pulled at the safe hoping it would open.

“It’s not opening.” He pulled some more. “Chishiya.” His eyes looked over his shoulder at Y/n to see her taking steps back towards the door, her focus on him.

“Chishiya! You there?” He spoke again.

Y/n watched as Niragi, Aguni and their goonies walked into the room, their eyes falling on Y/n before she pointed to Arisu.

“Ya, I really gotta hand it to you. You got balls.” Niragi taunts.

Y/n’s eyes quickly found Chishiya, as she ran over to him. His clm exterior unbroken though she knew he was relieved by the quick kiss he placed on her temple as she hid her face in his neck.

“You’re safe. I’m right here. Don’t worry.” His whisper’s filled her ears, as she focused on his voice.

Slightly pushing her away, his arm falling to her waist. “Go back to our room. Ill be there in a few minutes.”

Nodding, she places a kiss on his cheek, before running off to their room.

~~

Snuggled in under the covers, she watched the door, waiting for Chishiya to walk in. Finally after what felt like forever, the door opened. 

Smiling, she watches her close the door and shrug off his white jacket, placing it on a chair, before pulling off his shirts as well just towing that on the ground in the pile with their other dirty clothes.

Her eyes fell on his bare body, though no muscles showed he was still slightly toned. Opening her arms, Chishiya smiled tiredly, lifting the cover and sliding in. Wrapping his arms around her hips and resting his head on her chest.

“ ‘m so tired.” He mumbled.

Giggling, she nodded. “Me too. We can go to bed now though baby. Just me and you.” Lifting his chin up she places a kiss on his lips.

Moving to pull away, his hand stops her as it slides to the back of her neck. Placing his lips on her’s roughly, she gasped slightly not expecting it.

Smiling into the kiss, she pulled away not out of air. “What was that all about.”

Chuckle slightly placed his head back on her chest. “Stupid kid, changing my plan. Made me nervous. I told them that he forced you along, but I didn’t know if they’d believe me. Was scared that Niragi would do something to you.” His voice muffled at the end as he buried his head in her chest.

Eyes wide, Y/n sat silent at his confession. Chishiya was never good with words and the fact that he said all of what he did was surprising.

Sighing happily she places a kiss on his head. “I love you.”

“ ‘m love you too.” His voice muffled once again, though she knew what he said, a goofy smile on her face as it was the first time he had ever replied.

“ ‘m so proud of you.” She mumbled into his hair, placing one more kiss before letting the exhaustion take over.

[daryldixonfanfiction]

What you fight for! pt.14 - Jackson (*18+)

Masterlist

Summary: Finding refuge in jackson things takes a heartbreaking turn...

Warnings: *18+, SMUT!, age gap, unprotected p in v, protective!Daryl, nightmares, pregnancy symptoms, anxiety attack, angst, heartbreak, jackson, reunion.

wc. 8.2k

Tilting his gaze back towards Julia, he notists her exhausted face, hands deep in her pockets and her mind somewhere only she knew. He worried how much longer they would last in the cold with barely anything in their stomachs. He didn't worry much for himself though, it was Julia he worried for as it was his responsibility to take care of her. But it feels more like he had failed terribly. Eyeing a rustic log-cabin in the middle of the snow covered landscape, smoke coming from its chimney, revealing the home to be resident, he makes the choice to approach.

Julia met him with a worried expression, and he knew their run-ins with bad people along the way had changed something, she had become noticeably apprehensive, but he was desperate, knowing it wouldn't be long before she would collapse even if she reassured she was fine.

Firewoode sits in a pile alongside the cabin, keeping the weapon aimed forward, reaching for the door to enter the home Julia stopes him and she said, her voice lowered,

“Wait..what if there's bad people?”

His hand stopped at the door handle and he looked down at her, the gun in her hands looking misplaced.

“We ain’t got no other choice, you know that. Just-” He cuts himself off, notesting how pale and scared she looked, “stay close.”

“Okay,” Julia nods, moving closer just like he had told her to. “You’re not gonna hurt them right?”

He didn't answer, because he knew he would do anything to keep her safe.

Florence was no threat but rather surprised when they had entered the way they did with guns amed and Julia felt bad they had scared such an old lady. She was kind, offering them some soup that Daryl was currently eyeing suspiciously.

“It's my husband's favorite,” Florence encouraged, beginning to eat in her rocking chair. Julia nudges Daryl, he sniffs the soup before he finally digs in and never had Julia ever remembered being this hungry in her entire life, and before she knew it the bowl of soup was finished and even then she still craved more. Scraping the remnants of the soup Julia watches as Daryl places his bowl down and looks to the older lady,

“Wears youre old man?”

“Daryl,” Julia scolds, shooting him a look.

“It's alright dear,” Florence calms, and the way she said dear reminded her of her grandmother. “He's out hunting at the moment. He should be back after lunch, which should be at any moment now.” Florence looks between the two of them, but it feels more like she was looking at her. “Would you like another surviving, there's plenty left.”

“Nah, I'm good." Daryl denies, returning his attention to the map on the table.

“What about you dear, you look like you could need some more.”

Right, she probably saw what made Daryl ask if she was feeling sick all the time. And she wanted more, especially when the morning sickness had finally subsided after the third trimester, allowing food to finely stay down. Grabbing the bowl she followed Florence into the small kitchen, waiting patiently at her side as she poured her a second serving.

“Is he the father?”

Julia froze at the sudden question. A gentle hand reached out and touched her arm as she went on, her voice lowered so it would only be heard between the two of them,

“He doesn't know?”

Julia mutley shook her head in response, feeling how her eyes began to burn and washed Florence eyes land on her stomach as if sensing was underneath the jacket. Though she was scared and even shaking she was desperate in her loneliness of knowing. But in Florence's eyes there was no jugement, only sincerity.

Revealing the growing bump to the women she had just met, Florence looked at her in shock and all she wanted to do was break down and cry in her arms, but she didn't dare to cas a scene. She couldn't afford it, not when Daryl was there.

“Oh, my dear child.” Florence gasped.

In a way It felt good that someone knew after having kept it hidden, endured it all on her own for so long. There were so many things she wanted to say, to tell her everything, to explain why she had to keep it a secret from the man she loved and what made her fear so terebully for his reaction. But it was like she had become mute, the words she wanted to say would not leave her. She was left staring with glassy eyes unable to speak, then Florence's hand squeezed in reassurance,

“I understand, I have been there too.”

And in that moment she couldn't help the tear that escaped down her shek and neither did she really understand why she reacted so strongly to her words, but a part of her did in fact know why she felt it so deeply. To be seen and understood in a vulnerable state was something she had needed to hear more than she could have realized. But It also made her sad, because she knew she would never have such a moment with her mother, even if she was still alive.

“Can I?” Florence asked, and she nodded washing on as she carefully pushed down on her stomach, just like she imagined a midwife would do. “Do you feel any pain?” Julia shook her head, it was just more like an uncomfortable feeling. "Okay, that’s good. Do you know how far along you are?”

Julia hesitated before she spoke. “17 weeks, today,” her voice barely above a whisper and It feels so strange to voice something only she had known.

“17?” Florence questioned. “You look much further along.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, of course not,” Florence reassured. “Everyone's different. Have you felt any movements, like fluters? It can sometimes feel like bubbles or tiny pulses.”

Oh.. so that's what that strange feeling was.

“Yes,” Julia nodded. “It moves all the time.”

“That’s a very good sign. As long as the baby moves it should all be good, but when it stops that’s when you should worry, okay?”

"Okay." Julia wiped away another tear that fell and she tried to keep it together but it was hard, everything felt so overwhelming.

Florence pulled her shirt down over her stomach as she was done, Julia closed the puffer jacket, hiding it all again. Taking the bowl full of soup in her hands Louise touched her arm once more and it really feelt like she could have been her grandmother then in the way she was so motherly like hers had been, and Florence said,

“You know, men can be really dense when it comes to things like these, but don’t wait too long to tell him. That man loves you very much, maybe even more than you realize-

Daryl unintentionally cuts Florence off as he emerges into the kitchen, his gaze falling on her, beaconing her away from the conversation she would have liked to hear true.

“What is it?” Julia questioned, the tension building in her gut. Did he know, had he heard everything?

“I want ya to wait upstairs.” It was firm, more like an order, but she was relieved he suspected nothing, because if he did she didn't know what to do.

“You don’t trust them?” She couldn't help but question.

“No.”

“Daryl…

“Wait upstairs,” It was final in the way he said it and she could tell he had gone into his protective mode.

Hiding up on the loft Julia washes quietly as a man wearing a camouflage jacket walks inside. The old man continues placing down his bow and arrows. Florence slowly rocks in the rocking chair facing the door and before she could wonder were Daryl had gone his deep voice commands,

“And the gun.”

Florence’s husband unzips his jacket, seemingly unfaced and questions,

“Ho the hell are you?”

“Just someone passin’ through,” Daryl steps into view below the loft behind Florence with his crossbow aimed at him. “Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.”

Florence's husband did so, placing his handgun on the side taibulle. He looks to his wife and questions,

“Why didn't you shoot him?”

“The gun’s all the way over there,” Florence answered. “He didn't hurt me, by the way.”

“Yeah, I got eyes.” The man sighs, eyeing the empty bowls sitting on the table. “You made him soup?”

“Yeah, I did. It’s cold out.” The man walks over and sits across from his wife. “He’s got a girl with him.”

“Can I come down?”Julia is quick to ask from above.

“No.” Daryl denies, but with the soup in hand she squires down the loft,

“What did I just say,” Daryl scolds, frowning disapprovingly.

“Daryl, they're good people.” Julia said and sat down to eat beside Louise who gave her a warm smile, which she returned, feeling an unspoken bond in their shared understanding.

“I need ya to tell us where we are,” Daryl said, looking at the man.

“If you got a map, why you lost?” the man counters.

“We’re somewhere here,” Daryl points on the map and commands. "Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife’s.”

“Did you tell him the truth?” the man questions his wife.

“Yeah.”

“Are you tellin’ me the the truth?”

“Yeah.” Florence responds again.

Julia watches the man look between them and then leans forward from his seat, tapping on the same place Florence had pointed out to them. Daryl looked visibly frustrated as he sighs and sits next to her on the small couch,

“Well, you found a great place to hide I guess.”

“Hide?” the man chuckles. “I came here before you were born, sonny - get the hell away from everybody.”

“I didn’t want to,” Florence added, her husband waves her off.

A curious thought of what Florence had told her in the kitchen came to mind, if it was because of the similar situation that made them live so isolated from everybody else? And if so, she could imagine it must have been hard, but that though didn't last long as Daryl questioned further,

“So ya ho haven’t seen anyone out here?”

“Nope,” the man answers.

“What about the Fireflies?” Julia cuts in.

“We get those in the summer.” Florence answered.

“Nut the bugs,”Daryl sighs in frustration. “The people.”

The married couple looks at each other and Julia can see the laugh coming a mile away before it erupts. “Are there firefly people?” Florence humored, and before she could say anything else they started laughing.

Julia could feel the chaired disappointment between them. To have come this far without much luck sins Pittsburgh that had ended devastatingly when they were the closest in finding them. But Daryl was persistent turning the conversation serious again,

“You got any advice on the best way west?”

“Yeah,” the man nods, “Go east. But you never go past the river here,” his finger traces a river and highlights warningly. “Ever.”

“What's past the river?” Julia asked.

“Death,” Florence explained. “We never seen who’s out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some infected, some not.”

The pit in her stomach feels like a cheired feeling between them, thow Daryl held the facade as if unmoved, thow she had come to know him enuff to know when he feels fear - and she was more terrified than anything. So much so she lost the appetite entirely, holding the bowl in her lap in a tight grip. Daryl must have picked up on the distress, taking the bowl, placing it back on the table,

“You ain’t gonna scare us,” he snapped, standing to his feet. "Common, we're going.”

“You should be when you know what a dark place the world is,” Florence countered, “what people do to survive.”

Daryl snatched the map, taking Julia by the arm quite harshly dragging her along to the dor as she shared a concerned glance with Florence,

“Wait, I wanna say goodbye!”

A part of her wanted to stay just a bit longer, to talk more with Florece. But all she could do was give her a hug. And she hoped Florence understood just how grateful she was for everything when she couldn't say it out loud in order to keep the secret. In her embrace she felt there weren't any words needed, and in a way she feels happy with that, though she was sad knowing that this would be their last time seeing each other.

Standing with Daryl at the door the husband stands to his feet with a stern look on his face making Julia worry Daryl's temper had upset him somehow, nodesting he had that same imposing resemblance to the man at her side.

"Young man…” the husband warned. He was about to say something she assumed was something rather harsh, but something must have changed his mind. She could tell by the look in his eyes, the way something inside him softened, and neither did she mis how his gaze subtly looked down at their joined hands then back at Daryl,

“Be safe out there,” the man said, “don’t let anything happen to your girl.”

Daryl didn't see her smiling to herself. Even Florence’s husband knew and he was just as soft as Daryl was when he had his guard down.

“I won’t,” It sounded like a prommes, leaving a heartwarming feeling as they left the coupole and the warm home behind.

They come to a halt, standing on a mountain pass that overlooks a river, the river he knew to be the river of death, the one they had been warned about. He tried to shut down the feelings reminding him of how scared he was lately, the daunting reality of the worst outcome was awakened even more after their little visit this morning, but he wouldn't let it distract him.

Growing closer to dark he decides for them to set up camp by the caves along the river and cross in the morning.

Julia seemed revealed to rest for the night and he suspected she must have been tired, he was too. But Julia wasn't as tired as he thought when they found a spot, she was more interested in admiring the northern lights on top of the cave, which made him very nervous of her being that high up knowing how clumsy she was. So without much thought he whistles, grabbing her attention from above,

“Come down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.”

Julia took one last look up at the night sky before stepping down and moved towards him.

“I have never seen anything like it,” she said, warming her hands against the fire, “have you?”

“No,” he said, gazing up at the swirling rivers of greenwich-blue light. "It's pretty.”

“Yeah, it is,” Julia agreed. “It's like a dancing rainbow, don't you think?”

Julia didn't even notice him staring, to engrossed in the heavens above. But he saw how her round eyes twinkle, how happy she seemed even after the things they had been through and yet she still smiled, continued to see the world through a lens where everything seemed to still have its light and not be consumed by the darkness they fought against.

“Daryl?” her eyes aced, with concern.

He found it hard to understand why she cared for him so deeply, as if sensing the feelings he had tried to keep hidden. And she had been right that he didn't let anybody get too close, but now he had and it felt like he was already paying the price.

"What's wrong?” She was so soft with him, patiently giving him time to find his words and listen. The truth was he didn't know how to answer, so he opted like many times before, shifting the conversation entirely,

“What did ya do before?”

“Hmm?” her head tilted into a question mark as she sat herself beside him.

“Ya never told me what you did,” he clarified. “before everything?”

“Oh, wheel nothing special, just whatever job I could get.”

“Like what?” He prompted, finding a genuine interest in her past.

“Wheel,” she began in deep thought. “I mostly worked as a waitress, onely part time. And after that I worked at a local kindergarten for a while before I moved to work at my grandparent’s. I was so lucky to have that option you know, I don’t know what I would have done without their help. I probably would have had to continue serving tables.”

“Why,” he questioned. “ya didn't like it?”

“No,” her eyes lowered. “Not really, now when I think about it. It was the worst, I dreaded it and the boss treated the girls terebully. This one time when it was really busy and I guess he was stressed or something - he screamed at me infront of everyone and I tried to be professional about it and not take it personal, but embarrassingly I broke down and cried in front of everyone. I had to be sent home early because I couldn't stop crying and my aunt had to pick me up. Embarrassing, right?”

“Na, he sounds like a real asshole.”

“That's exactly what my aunt said.” Julia giggled. “You should have seen her face, she looked like she wanted to punch him.”

“Me and her both,” he confessed, feeling his hands subconsciously ball into fists.

“I think I have been called every word in the book within those months I spent working there, especially in a place like that. I don’t know what I expected.”

“What you mean by, place like that?” He questioned. ”You make it sound like ya worked at Hooters or something.”

Julia starred, the silence spoke for itself. Her expression was one of embarrassment and he feared it was too late to retract the damage his poor words had caused when she began to stand, but before she could do so he grabbed her wrist and pulled her in.

“Wait,” he said urgently, the motion making her fall into his lap and he clarified. “I didn't mean it like that.”

“It sounded like you did,” Julia said as she tried to squirm off his lap, but it only made him hold onto her harder.

Maybe it was cruel of him, knowing Julia wasn't going anywhere. Though they both knew if she told him to stop he would do so in a heartbeat. Really it was her that had all the real power. If only she knew that his heart was already hers. He knew of the weight her words carried, how it affected him so completely. If she told him that she hated him, wanted nothing to do with him.. it would destroy him.

“This is so unfair,” Julia groaned, her face contorting into what he only could describe as the cutest expression he had ever seen.

“I know,” he agreed. “I’ll let go when you forgive me.”

There was nothing said for a while and Julia had eventually gave up entirely, accepting her fate in his hold. As her body relaxed against him he knew she had forgiven him and just like he promised he let go. Though she was free she didn't make any attempts to get up but instead stayed, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. Looking down at her form she was looking straight up at him from his shoulder where her head rested. They looked eyes and he could feel himself getting lost. But not lost like in his nightmares, but lost in a way that made him feel warm inside and his heart beat faster.

Julia looked at him with so much admiration, as if looking at something beautiful. He couldn't come up with an explanation as to why a girl as perfect as her could see something other than the horrible person he felt he was. As her hand reached out, cupping the side of his face he shut his eyes, melting completely by the feeling of her thumb curesing skin against stubble. She then brushed the curtains of hairs out of his face as if to see him better. Contently running her fingers through his hair he wished for this moment to never end. He could see them spending their lives together, a sanctuary where she would always be safe and enjoy a normal mundane life. A place where she would stay warm, never be hungry, sing without a worry for walkers and she could garden and have a cat like she said she wanted. He would provide anything she’d ask for, he would even recreate the paradise her grandparents had on their farm she always talked about, maybe even have a family of their own if she so desired.

“I love you,” Julias soft voice spoke, her fingers continuously running through his hair.

“You..love me?” He searched her eyes, trying to gauge the truth in her words, but all he could find was love.

“Yes,” Julia was staring up with a warm smile painting her soft lips. “With all my heart, I love you Daryl Dixon.”

Maybe he was a fool for not saying it back, but he had never said those words before, he couldn't even recall anyone ever saying it to him, surely not in the way she did. It was beyond affection, her confession carrying the weight of the world and he couldn't ignore how it moved him, how it struck him to his wery soul. Taking her face all he knew was to kiss her, and so he did.

Taking her hair, pushing it out of the way to leave kisses down her neck and maybe even a hickey or two. He wanted to mark her. The idea of others knowing she was taken, that she was his wherever they went was something he deep down desired more than anything.

Earlier this morning when Julia had been called his girl it had never felt more right, he haven't been able to stop thinking about it as it had echoed in his mind,

“Be safe out there, don’t let anything happen to your girl.”

Pressing another kiss along the skin he laid her down on her back onto the makeshift bedding of their sleeping bags and blankets. Julia’s hands pulled him in to continue the kiss. He wanted to have her in every way possible and lose himself entirely in the essence of her. Breathless they pulled apart but only for the desperate need for air. Julia was absolutely lovely, he could have mistaken her for an entity the way the glowing light of the fire made her dark curls turn golden brown and her skin glow illuminant. Julia was too perfect to be touched by someone like himself, but yet he could never stop himself when she always wanted him just the same.

Taking one of the blankets close at hand, draping it over them in one swift move, covering them entirely. He assisted in the undressing of her jeans, pulling them off along with the underwear. Wasting no time he moved above her, caging her in with on arm as his other hand moved to her core, two fingers feeling the wetness that had pooled,

“Christ you're wet,” he gasped, feeling his jeans grow tighter at the feel of what was awaiting him.

She was completely soaked, her arousal coating his fingers as he explored her folds before pushing two fingers in. They both gasped at the feeling, he watched as her eyes shut, her face contorting into pleasure of him pushing his fingers in and out until she began to squirm beneath him,

“Daryl, she whined. “I need you now,”

“Easy,” he calmed. “got to warm ya up first.”

But Julia gave him the look he could not ignore, the look resembling an innocent fawn he could not say no to. And the overwhelming urge her confession had caused made him give in. And how could he not when she said she needed him so urgently?

Quickly he worked up his belt, releasing himself from the tightness of his jeans, he then coated his tip in her arousal before aligning himself and pushed himself inside her warmth. A low rumbling sound of relief escapes him, Julia sighs contently against his ear as she holds onto his shoulders, it makes his stomach flutter. He moves his hips back before he begins to push himself in and out in a rocking motion. It was almost unbearably tight at first but as her walls adjusted to him he reached deeper. Her sounds grew into soft whimpers of pleasure, like the wet sound of him moving in and out, it egged him on even more making the soft rocking of his hips turn to trusting. Her walls began to squeeze him the harder he went, her legs shaking around his hips and he knew any moment now she would convulse around him. And as she came down from her peak he slowed down just enuff so she could catch her breath before he began to chase his own high, but seconds from it Julia's urgent voice made him pause above her,

“Stop! Stop.”

“What’s wrong?” He panted, feeling panicked rice in his chest “Does it hurt?”

“No, I want to try something,” Julia explained as she took him by the bicep and guided him gently so that he was the one lying down.

He felt confused at first but as she moved on top of him so that she was straddling his hips, the blanket now around her waist and covered his legs, he understood when her hand grabbed him, and he watched as she rose just enuff to slowly slide down on top of him.

Julia inhaled shakily, her hands flattening on his chest to secure her position on top of him. It was different being the one to look up at her, but she was even more breathtaking from this angle. Resisting the urge to start moving, allowing her to do what she desired he reached to lift up the jacket she was still wearing, his fingers akin to feel and see all of her. But Julia guided his hands away and onto her hips, clearly wanting that control.

Daryl felt his eyes roll back as her body moved slowly and a bit hesitant making him hold onto her hips more tightly, his fingers digging into her flesh to assist in the motion, making the pase quicker. Warmth spread true his lower body, she was welcomingly warm and soft everywhere, he couldn't get enough of it. She was heavenly, no…she was a golden goddess moving on top of him, bringing him to the edge of the universe. He tried to get as deep as he could inside of her, twisting the angel and Julia let out a whine of pleasure, he gasped as well. He continued to grunt, sending himself upward to meet her hips.

There was a particular whimper she made that made his heart flutter once more, it always did when she sounded like that, urging him faster and faster until eventually he simply couldn't stand it any longer. He puts his knees up, feet flat against the ground so that he could lift his hips, thrust upwards into her with more force. The angel made Julia fall forward, her hands now flat on each side of his head to keep herself up wright as she shook on top of him. Quickening the pace even more, maybe being too rough as he slammed upwards, but the sounds she made in return told him otherwise. Feeling her shake on top of him as he thrust himself in and out, turning her into a complete mess on top of him, it sounded as if she was trying to say something, but the words were lost in the pleasure made between them.

Once more Julia was beginning to tense around him, he felt his blood rushing in his ears in response to the movement, pulling him back to the finish line he had been seconds from before. He could feel himself getting sloppy in his movements as he thrusts faster and more desperate than ever before the closer he came to climax. Julia was breathing so heavy above him, he could tell she was struggling to hold herself up, but her sounds were the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He let it guid him and in this angel her face was above his own, he focused on her wide open mouth, her face flushed with pleasure he knew he had brought to her. He didn't get much more time to admire before he groaned, tensing as if electricity had shot true him, digging his fingernails into her hips that would likely leave marks there in the morning.

They were both sweating even with the cold night surrounding them, their breaths evaporating and their skin sweaty where they stayed connected. His legs gave up beneath her, Julia just as spent slid off him to lay next to him on the makeshift bedding. Their bodies coming down from there high, his mind fogged a bit he reached out his hand and ran his fingers through her hair, mimicking her soft touch. He could tell exhaustion was taking a hold of her as she struggled to keep her eyes open, but just as he was settling himself to sleep, he heard her murmur,

"Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?” He found himself questioning as he stared.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” Julia confessed.

“About what?" He questioned, propping himself up on his elbow so that he was looking down at her.

He noticed how she struggled to look at him, how her eyes avoided his, he kept his own steady, studying her silently.

“Okay, so.” Julia continued, “Back when we escaped the prison, and I said that I had never had a drink before.. I lied.”

Julia looked at him for his reaction, but something about it felt like she said it to cover something else up. He reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear,

“I know,” he answered, Julia looked confused in return.

“You knew?”

“Yah,” he confirmed, smiling at the memory “It was obvious and you're ain’t exactly good at it.” Feeling curious, he then asked. "Why ya lie about it anyway?”

“I’m not shure.” she said in deep thought. “I guess a part of me was afraid you would think differently of me, drinking before I was old enough, you know”

“Well, I don't,” he reassured, then turned more serious, his hand resting in her hair. “Now tell me what ya really wanted to say.”

“There is nothing else,” she denied, looking away.

“I know there is,” He pressed on, leaving no room for bullshit. “Tell me.” Her eyes returned and he could see a sadness there,

“I tried,” she began, almost hesitant, “with Sam.”

"Tried what?” His hand halts its motion on her cheek.

“I knew he was bit,” Julia confessed. “I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know, I know,” she calmed, sensing his worry and disapproval. “It was stupid. But I.. I wanted to save him.”

Of course she did. The thought of her being so stupidly reckless made his mind flare, but only for a moment. She was the most selfless person he had ever met, he wished in moments like that something inside her would stop her from doing dangerous stuff like that. But what he also realised was without that part, she wouldn't be her. So it was hard to stay mad even if he wanted to.

“It was stupid,” he agreed. “Don’t do it again.”

“You're not mad?” Julia questions, cuddling into his chest for warmth. “Not even a little?”

“No,” his low voice rumbled.

Tucking her in with his arms around her back, her head beneath his chin resting into his chest it wasn't long before her breath evened out, her body lax and warm against his own. It was only then, when he knew she was sleeping he dared to say it back… and so he whispered softly into her ear,

"I love you".

Snow fell over the crossing river, it was quiet but Daryl was still hesitant to cross the iron bridge. It was the only way they could take. So with no choice and now sight of the people they had been warned about they began their way across.

Daryl walked in front, his weapon ready in hand, she kept herself close, following in his footsteps. As they passed the bridge, continuing on she felt relieved they made it without any danger like they had been told about, even though she would look back just to make shore. Maybe they were just trying to scare them like old folks tid, but there was always a truth to warnings like that, though she hoped they would never come across it.

The river connects to another, they follow along it. The color of the water was blue and crystal clear, but the more she spent time admiring the striking color she couldn't help but to fear this could possibly be it.

“Daryl…what if this is the River of Death?”

Daryl stops and meets her worried gaze, then looks to the river. He lets go of her hand to study the map and begins navigating away from it and up the hill instead.

But what they didn't expect was the dozen of people on horseback cresting over the hill straight towards them. Daryl grabs her by the hand to make a run for it, but to there horror they are quickly surrounded with now way to escape

And like she feared, this was the River of Death.

Daryl steps in front and orders her to stay behind him, his body like a shield even if they stood surrounded. There were all men for what she could see, each wearing bandanas to cover their faces. She stared at him from behind, eyeing their next move, knowing in a situation like this he was the one who always knew what to do, and so she followed his lead, putting her hands up in surrender.

“We ain’t lookin’ for trouble,” Daryl informed. “We’re just pasin’ true.”

Julia looks around, gauging their reaction, and that's when she spots a woman amongst the men, her gaze stays there as a man ordered Daryl firmly,

“Drop the crossbow.”

Slowly Daryl slides the crossbow of his shoulder and places it on the ground, the man continued, keeping his weapon trained at them along with everybody else except the women is aimed at them,

“You…” the man in the black cowboy hat siad, looking straight at her. “Take five steps back.”

She could feel herself shaking as she shared a worried look with Daryl, his gaze hardening and returns to the man in front,

“How ‘about we just talk this through?”

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up?” The man spit back.

“Okay, easy.” Daryl calmed.

Julia washed his head and turned back to give her a nood, “You’ll be okay.” He insured and she took her five steps back, reluctantly.

This all felt so wrong, the danger they were in felt almost overwhelming and the pure fear came when a man walked forward with a dog that was there to insure they were not bitten. And the worst part was that she was terrified of dogs and all she could do was stand there frozen as she felt the blood drain from her face. She could not even bring herself to look at it, it was as if all the bad encounters, including the one time when she was almost drowned and chased by one when she was five came back to her. Holding her breath she shut her eyes tightly, her hands protecting her stomach to somehow protect their unborn child. And when the moment came there were no thoughts, she couldn't think, maybe she had blacked out for the shortest of moments but she still didn't dare to look as she flinched when she felt the dog sniffing her out. Its paws on her abdomen, just beneath where her hands were placed and all she could do was remember to breathe, not be swallowed by the fear taking over her body.

Tears quietly slipped down her cheeks one after the other. The warm liquid silver lining her skin down to her neck where it was absorbed by the fabrike of the jacket. But something else that was also warm moved against her face. Opening her eyes, the blurry sight of the dog in her face confused her. But then she realized she was now sitting on the ground in the snow and the dog was licking her face and her tears away. Then then it was called back to the grope and the man in charge continued,

“You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What are you doin’ out here?”

“I’m just looking for my friend.” Daryl insisted. “That’s all, nothin’ more.”

Julia knew he was lying but what she didn't expect was the women threading forward with her horse and commanded, sharply,

“Hey! What's your name?”

There was a beat of a moment, then he answered,

“Daryl.”

The woman eyes them and Julia watches on as she goes to the man in charge, whispering something that ended with a nod and the man in charge ordered on of the men at his side,

“Give them your horse, they're coming with us.”

Julia, still sitting on the snow covered ground couldn't get herself to move. Still shaken from believing there were gonna die prevented her from follow along with everything around her that seemed to happen all to fast for her state of mind - and Daryl pulling her to her feet to then be sat on top of a horse all she managed to do was scot back to give him room, he seated himself in front with the rains in his hands as if he had done this before. Her hands naturally looped around his waist, her body flush against his back. He was taller, and his shoulders were quite broad, blocking out much of the view in front but the warmth of his back and safety she found in it overrode the fear as they sped true the snowy wally that led up to a wooden fort.

A rider beside them holds out a flag to signal the gate to be open. Approaching, they were surprised to see people going about their business in what looked like a small comune.

Townspeople cut lumber, another's work in chops, the place looked to be trywing and more than anything it looked to be a sanctuary. Taking it in, it didn't feel real, seeing everyone going about what seemed to be the closest thing to normal sins the turn, even seeing children of all ages playing in the snow by a big Christmas tree, glowing with string lights-

“Rick!”

Daryl called out suddenly, bringing the horse to a stop. The man stops what he's doing and turns to them, there was a bet of a moment but there was no doubt, that man was Rick Grimes standing there..alive.

Daryl swings off the horse, she watches on as Rrick pulls him in a tight hug. It looked as if they were brothers and she couldn't make out what they were saying but it was clear they both were happy to be reunited, that they were far more than friends, they were family.

The moment of reunion was beautiful to witness, she was truly happy for him, he deserved it but a sad part of her couldn't help but to yearn for Marlene to be there too. But as she surged amongst the townspeople she knew that would not be the case and it was hard to ignore the pain pulling at her heart.

She must have been lost in her own world, not nodesting the man that had approached her but as she did he said, rather harshly,

“Hey.”

At first she wasn't sure if he was talking to her, but when he moved closer and grabbed a hold of the horse rains she realised that this was one of the men they had been riding with, this was his horse.

“Hey,” The man repeated, his voice annoyed. “Imma need my horse back. Are ya getting off or not?”

Clumsy, she hurried off the saddle, not wanting to upset the rude man further. The man stared as she got their packs of the horse and when she was done the man seated himself and walked off leaving her relieved the uncomfortable moment was over. The man disappeared down the main street and towards her she recognised the dog from before. It seemed to notice her as well, tugging on the leash the owner held and before she knew it she was approached once more.

“Hey, I want to apologize,” the younger man began with his eager dog at his side. “I feel really bad for scaring ya, with the dog and all.”

He seemed genuinely sorry and she understood it was done in purpose of protecting this place, so she wasn't upset with them and certainly not with him.

“It's okay.” Julia reassured, thow she was still a bit anxious around the dog. “I understand, you have to protect this place. I’ve just always been scared of dogs.”

“Let me guess.” The man said knowingly. “Bad encounters?” Julia nodded in response feeling a bit hesitant talking with someone she didn't know but he seemed kind and easy to talk to and looked to be somewhere between her and Daryl in age. “Well my boy here ain't nothing like that, and I think he likes you.”

“He does?” Julia questioned looking down at the dog that seemed eager to get close which made her a bit nervous but not scared like before, knowing it was secure on its leash.

“Yah, he dragged me all over to you when he saw you, he's usually never this excited around new people.”

“What’s his name?” she asked, feeling less scaird around the dog the more they talked.

The man told her its name and when she repeated it the dog made a pleased sound as it wagged its tail, making her smile in response. Even feeling a bit brave she allowed it to lick her palm. It then began to sniff her like it had done before but when it began to get too excited for her comfort she panicked, releasing it was in fact sensing the baby, making her step backwards until she slipped and tripped.

“Daryl!” She called out, panic straining her voice.

“Shit,” the man pulled on the leash, restraining his dog back.

In the same second his name had left her mouth Daryl was there, standing between her and the dog that was suddenly cowering behind its owner with its tail between its legs and ears flat. Daryl approached the man further, his broad shoulders blocking her view from behind.

Inwardly she checked herself, relieved having landed on top of their packs that saved her in the fall. Dusting off the snow off her clothes she noticed the crowd starting to form around them and the feeling the situation was about escalet sat heavy in the air. Daryl grabbed onto the man's jacket around his neck, fisting it in his grip. It looked like he wanted to drive his fist down his throat, like he was about to do something-

“Hey!” Rick intervenes. “Let's not do this.” Rick seemed to know what he was doing, clearly having seen this side of his friend before, staying calm but firm. “Daryl, let's not do this, let him go”

But Julia knew Daryl was not hearing anything, the rage had blinded him and as the hand at his side tightened into a fist her stomach sunk as she watched Daryl growled in his face, his voice low and warning,

“If you or your dog ever comes near her again, I’ll put ya down along with it. You hear me?”

She hurried up to him and grabbed a hold of his arm before he could do anything he would regret . “Daryl, listen to me,” she pleaded. “You need to let him go.”

His muscles were hard as stone underneath, the man in his hold looked scared more than anything, resembling his dog and just when she thought he didn't hear her he let go of the man - though the death stare from Daryl didn't waver an inch as Rick guided the man out of sight, swiftly and ordered everyone back to there assigned work.

String lights hang from wooden beams in the communal dining hall, there were long tables and a food station, even a stage with instruments she could vision music being played.

To be eating warm food along with homemade pie feels so out of place, like a rarity that was not supposed to still exist. Daryl was sitting right beside her, wolfing down food on his plate as he conversed with the rest of his group he thought he had lost at the prison so many months ago. She kind of disappeared, going un-notist, just watching and listening on the sideline. She never was one comfortable being in the spotlight, she rather be the one observing. Though she didn't mind taking Judith’s attention, it was the one thing that made her feel a little bit better inside, taking some of that anxiety away.

Her eyes couldn't help but to search for Marlene as they were shown around the place, being told how everything worked and came to be. She felt herself missing her deeply and being reminded she was the one that had no one waiting for her here was painful, to not be reunited with the one she missed the most.

There was this feeling as well, a feeling that something was off, and that something started to feel more dreadful. Something that could only be described as a sharp pain lying beneath the surface. There was definitely a difference in Daryl's behavior, he was there but at the same time he was keeping himself at a distance. She didn't think they looked like two people who knew each other the way they did. It made her question if their relationship was making him uncomfortable around his friends, fearing he was embarrassed even - she hoped he was just reserved, that it was just something he was comfortable doing when it was just the two of them and no one else. But there was something within that that made her feel… well, hurt in a way, in a way she had never felt before, like someone was squeezing her heart too tightly.

She wished she was not so sensitive to the smallest of things, not so overly observing to what she feels inside. That sharp feeling would not leave here and she couldn't stop thinking of the underlying fear if she had misunderstood where their relationship stod.

Looking back she saw Daryl and Rick exchange a look, it made her stop petting the foul in the outside horse stable. As they start leaving she felt her chest tighten at the thought of him not being near,

“Daryl.”

“You’ll be fine,” Daryl reassured. “I’ll see you at the house.”

She watched them go with worried eyes. It was just her, Carl and Judith now. The others had gone back to their assigned work and Carl was in charge of taking care of his little sister that was babbling in his arms.

Carl showed her to the house they had been assigned to, it seemed that everyone had their own place as well along the street all next to one another. They accompanied her for a while until it was time for them to leave, and she found herself alone in the house that seemed way too big and way too quiet for her comfort, even if she had never found that a problem before, but everything was different now.

Her time waiting for Daryl was spent reflecting and clearing her worried mind in the shower, and as her thoughts came to place and she found herself in the decision to tell him the truth or maybe it was Florence doing? But she knew she couldn't wait any longer, he deserved to know even though it still scared her to death. Standing by the window, watching the snow falling until there was nock on the bedroom door,

“Hey, It’s me,” his familiar voice spoke, it made her nervous knowing it would be now she was gonna have to tell him what she had hidden for so long.

Taking a breath of courage she welcomed him and asked. “Did everything go well with Rick?” Daryl stands in the middle of the rome, his awkward stans not going unnoticed in her eyes. “You were gone so long I thought something had happened.”

She could feel his eyes struggling to meet hers and before he could finish what he planned to say she cut him off, her stomach sinking and her heart tightens in knowing..Because after all she knew it was coming eventually, how couldn't it when it had happened to her before?

“Listen, um–

“You're leaving me, aren't you?”

“It ain’t like that,” Daryl denies. “I made this decision for your own good. You’ll be way better off with Rick. He knows the area better than I do and-

“Do you even care about me?” She found herself questioning as her heart began to break. “Did you ever?”

“Of course, I care,” Daryl insisted - his face angry but his eyes almost overflowing with emotion, betraying his strong exterior.

Her eyes burned as she locked eyes with him.

“If you're trying to protect me, stay,” her voice shook with emotion. “Don't leave..only bad things happen when you're gone.”

“Stop,” he warned as if her words cut too deep for his comfort.

Tears started flowing down her face, her hands shaking where she grabbed onto the edge of the oversized t-shirt she wore. Stepping close, desperate for him to take down the emotional wall he had putt between them, she pleaded,

“Daryl, you're breaking my heart. I don’t know Rick like I know you. I love you.”

But her words would not go true to him, leaving her feeling helpless as the anxiety spiked in her chest.

“That’s enuff,” he warned, harshly.

Julia felt like she had been struck, her eyes widening as Daryl’s gaze dropped to the floor, furrowing his brows before he looked at her again.

“Hell come get you at dawn,” Daryl continued in a cutting way, slicing the words down, each one tearing her heart into pieces. “you're going with him and that’s the end of it.” and all in the same time she felt so confused, not really understanding how it had turned to this.

Without another word, Daryl angrily storms out the door, and she knew it was over. Their relationship ends with him slamming the door shut as she just stood there staring in disbelief. She didn't know what to do.

It felt like someone had died, like a huge hole had been punched true her chest, her heart beating even though it felt like it would give up. The bed wasn't to any comfort, it was terribly cold with out him.

Drained and exhausted she felt herself in the pain almost turning her numb as the ache in her chest comes and goes like pulses of blood behind a bruise, strainchely lurching and dragging, but somehow it lulls her into sleep.

Masterlist pt.15

[azsazz]

Dead By Dawn (Part 14)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, mentions of cannibalism, SMUTTT

Word Count: 2,686

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13)

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Day 194 Part 3

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The sun is setting and Cassian’s ass is numb.

He hasn’t felt his legs in hours but the way you’re clinging to him so tightly has him going strong. He had found the bunker that caused you to feel this way, so he’s going to suffer the consequences. 

Though, with you in his lap, it’s not really suffering.

You’ve fallen asleep against his chest, his fingers tracing the same soothing pattern across your scalp as he had begun doing when he’d led you outside. He’s thankful you’re asleep. He was worried you wouldn’t be able to sleep with the thought of what you’d seen down in that basement running through your mind.

He can’t stop thinking about it; the blood, the bodies, the message. A desperate man seemingly wanting to keep his family safe for as long as possible, only to be their end, selfishly grasping to stay alive until madness drove him to his death.

Cassian doesn’t know if he’ll ever sleep again.

Sure, you’ve all seen things on par and worse—fuck, the dead are walking these days, but still, this particular instance has shaken all of you to the core, and there must be a reason why.

Azriel is leaning against his shoulder, as if needing the support himself. Cassian will gladly take the burden, even though he knows this is Azriel’s way of showing he understands, that he is here for him even if he doesn’t have the words to reassure you nor Cassian. 

He rests his head atop Azriels.

“You okay?” Azriel asks softly, nudging his head against Cassians. His voice is scratchy and low, the first time any of the three of you have spoken in hours. He’s eyeing the stray zombie that’s groaning loudly just outside the gate. Its bony arms stick through the iron fence, jaw gaping and snapping loudly. It’s far enough away that neither of the men see it as an immediate threat, but he’ll take care of it before you leave.

Cassian nods, swallowing thick. “Yeah,” he says, but he doesn’t mean it.

“I think we should leave,” Azriel suggests. A part of him really thinks that you shouldn’t—that you need to wait here for Rhys and Feyre. They’re going to reach the van, they’ve found gas and might already be at the car by now. They’re probably just having a quick fuck in the backseat. But he’d written them a letter and left it in plain sight, right on the kitchen counter where they won’t be able to miss it.

He can’t help but run his fingers over your hand, curled tightly in Cassian’s shirt. You’ve whimpered in your sleep once and he thought you might wake, chased by the nightmares he’d seen you have the first night you met, but you didn’t. Cassian’s soothing touch had calmed you right down, signing into his neck.

Cassian hums his agreement. There isn’t much else to say, he doesn’t want to stay in this place. It’s like a bad omen, he thinks, if you all stayed under the same roof as the atrocity. 

It’s bad enough you all fucked in their bed.

You rouse, lifting your head from the crook of his throat and squinting against the bright sun to meet their gazes. You stare at them for a moment, drinking them in, how they’re touching you, touching each other, searching for something they’re worried you won’t find. 

But you do. You know that there is no staying, and you relax against Cassian’s chest for a moment more, letting him tuck you in tighter for a final hug before helping you to your feet. 

You’re a bit unsteady, still shaken, and Azriel helps right you with firm hands on your hips, pressing close into your back so you can lean against him if you need. You take what he’s offering, placing your hands over his.

He goes still under your touch. 

You want to flinch, apologize profusely for touching his scars, but you don’t. You soothe your thumb across the textured skin and tip your gaze over your shoulder to meet his, showing him that you are not put off by his scarring.

Azriel’s mouth is set in a firm line, eyes hard and closed-off. You can’t get a read on him and it's like the both of you are locked in battle, but you won’t back down. You refuse to.

Eventually, he relents, slowly melting into you, as if you’ve become a shoulder to lean on instead of something reminding him of his scars. You grin proudly at him.

“We’re leaving,” Cassian says quietly, testing the waters between you and Azriel. He looked uneasy for a moment there, worried about Azriel completely flipping his shit, but he’s smiling softly at the both of you, heart full in his chest.

You nod, agreeing with their decision. Azriel pulls away from you to head back into the house. He’s going to find something to write a note to Rhysand and Feyre, letting them know exactly where you’ve gone.

Unsheathing your knife, you hold it firmly in your grasp, preparing for departure. It feels like it’s been a century since you’ve wielded it, but it’s hardly been a day.

Cassian wants to snatch the knife away from you and replace it with his fingers, twisting them together like they’re meant to be.

“We’ll find them,” you say it more to assure yourself than anything else, but Cassian nods nonetheless.

Azriel returns with your packed bags, sliding it across your shoulders so it sits nice. It’s heavier than it was the other day, and if it's because he’d haphazardly stuffed things into it in a rush to leave, you can’t blame him. His fingers trail down your arms as he retreats, and shivers race down your spine.

Cassian’s blade slides easily into the temple of the moaning zombie on the other side of the gate. The decaying creature goes silent, slumping forward to crash into the fence before sliding into an unmoving pile of rot on the asphalt.

You grimace, watching him wipe the blood on its torn clothes before sheathing it and shoving the gate open. He lets Azriel take the lead.

No one talks as you make your way back towards the van. You’ve agreed to start there and then head north, sticking near the main road in case Rhys and Feyre have managed to make it to the car.

All is quiet as you walk. Only the sounds of your own footsteps skidding across the ground can be heard, and you’re saddened at the thought of how happy you all had been to find a place like that to take shelter in.

It had been a perfect house. There wasn’t much to do on your group's end, tasks that any homeowner would have to make anyways, normal upkeep like fixing the hole in the fence and boarding up broken windows. But that basement…what you found down there will never part from you.

You glance at Cassian from the side of your eyes, admiring his perfect profile, wondering what the normally jovial man is thinking about.

It’s not pretty, what’s going inside of his head. He’s thinking about what that father had done to his children and he’s reminded of Beron—the crazy redheaded man who had set fire to Azriel’s hands and kidnapped you. 

He was going to do to you exactly what the man in the house had done to his sons.

Cassian’s fingers curl into fists.

You open your mouth to speak, to reassure him or ask him if he wants to talk about it or something, when Azriel asks, “Do you both see that?”

You whip your head around, looking at where he’s pointing. It’s an old billboard, a panel missing and fallen on its side, but it's shining bright red letters across the green read:

Eryef—15 miles north.

“It could be old,” Azriel comments. You would glare at his pessimistic answer, but you realize that he’s only being realistic. He doesn’t want anyone getting too excited over something that could be months old. 

Cassian takes his knife and runs the tip of it through the bright red paint. It curls, lifting with a wretched screech that makes you cringe and look over your shoulder, checking your surroundings. Azriel’s gritting his teeth but Cassian is too invested in examining the paint.

“Can’t be more than a few days old, I’d say,” he says, sheathing his blade. “Where do you think it leads?”

The three of you turn to the message again. Eryef…could be the name of a newly founded town, like the ones you’d heard rumors of: communities filled with survivors, coming together like people should have before the world turned into this festering shithole. 

Something is telling you it's not though. The name sounds too familiar for it to be that easy. You wrack your brain for solutions, wondering if Rhysand and Feyre had stumbled upon this very sign while they were out—

“Feyre,” you exclaim, clamping a hand over your mouth. Both men turn to you, looking down at you in confusion.

“We’re going to find her soon, sweetheart,” Cassian says, soothing your hair from your face.

You roll your eyes playfully, batting his hand away. He’s so sweet you feel butterflies running rampant in your stomach. His scowl turns heated at the look you’re giving him, and you know he wouldn’t say no to a quick fuck in the woods. Maybe Azriel could keep watch.

But as your gaze flicks to the other man in your group, you know there will be no keeping watch. The hazel is molten, mouth pulled slightly in a corner to smirk at you like the cock man you know him to be. You want to preen beneath their full attention, and you jump as a branch cracks loudly in the woods.

Azriel shoves you behind him, his reflexes quick. You shove his back in annoyance, swallowing thickly as you feel the corded muscles through his shirt. Now is not the time.

You move your attention to the woods. Cassian’s blade is out again and Azriel’s removed the shotgun from his shoulder, taking in the scene, sunlight streaming through thick branches and lush grasses.

A buck stands not too far away. It’s frozen still just as the three of you are, taking you in like you are it, debating if it should deem you a threat and retreat into the thicket.

You sure hope it doesn’t.

You hardly even breathe as you watch it, and seconds feel like an eternity. Finally, the buck returns to its grazing and you wonder if Azriel will take the shot.

It will be loud and zombies for miles will filter your way. There is no turning around for you, you won’t dare to seek cover at the house of horrors you’d left. You need to find Feyre and Rhys, and you need to start moving north.

If only you knew where to find them.

It’s Cassian who kills the buck. Surprisingly skilled with the blade in his hand, he tosses it with a strong arm, and you watch it soar through the trees like a spear. Bright sunlight reflects off of the shiny blade—you’ve caught Cassian sharpening and cleaning it more than once, with all of their stockade from the van—and it lights up the forest, spooking the animal, but too late.

“We’re going to be eating good tonight, my sweets,” Cassian grins, chest puffed with pride at the sight of his kill. He takes off into the forest, not a worry in the world about anything else lurking around, ready to pounce, and Azriel grumbles, hooking the gun back over his shoulder in favor of pulling out his own blade, taking your hand with his free one, and following Cassian into the woods.

“If we can afford to start a fire,” Azriel grunts, and your stomach gurgles in response. He glances down at you, a slight frown on his face in worry. You blush, squeezing his hand in reassurance. You never quite thought you’d have someone like this, let alone two, one hunting to feed you and the other worried about your well-being. You can admit, it’s mighty nice.

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“Earlier,” Azriel starts, making sure you’ve had your fill of cooked deer meat before taking some of his own. He offers a thick slice to Cassian, who’s still hanging meat over the makeshift spit he’d created, hands bloodied up to the elbow. He wouldn’t let Azriel anywhere near it, even though the other man had protested that he was fine around fire. Cassian wasn’t having it. He takes the food with a playful nip at Azriel’s fingers, winking at him before continuing his work. “You said Feyre. You didn’t just mean that we had to find them.” 

You nod, chewing the meat in your mouth. It’s delicious, and Cassian complained the whole time he was gutting the animal that if he’d had his garden, dinner would be accompanied by a fresh salad with all of the pickings. 

It had only made you hungrier and pray for a solace where he’d be able to do just that.

You swallow, the food filling a part of you you hadn’t known was so neglected. You need to pace yourself. You don’t want to get sick off of the meat before your body can soak up the nutrients. You’ll be damned if you let Cassian’s hard work go to waste.

“Eryef, it's Feyre spelled backwards,” you explain, watching the way their eyes light up. “I think it's them—her sisters, I mean.”

Azriel looks thoughtful, considering your words as he takes a large bite of food. It makes sense, but what’s the possibility that they’re in the same area? That they’re searching for her as well?

“My smart little bird,” Cassian compliments, crouching before you to place a smacking kiss on your forehead. It makes you blush and offer him a bite of your food, but he seems more interested in your lips, though he is mindful enough to keep his bloody hands off of your clothes.

You give in, rewarding him with a kiss and a bite of deer meat. He thanks you with a grin, then slides over a foot to where Azriel is settled beside you, pouting for a kiss from the man as well. Azriel rolls his eyes but obeys, leaning forward to meet Cassian’s tongue with his own.

It makes your body stir with need, watching the two of them like this. Cassian’s fingers curl against the log as he tries his best not to get the gore of the animal on his beloved, but Azriel looks like he could care less, biting at Cassian’s lips in a feral sort of way that has you pressing your thighs together tightly. You watch their tongues clash, fighting in the loving way that they have, chests heaving together and apart, together where they’re supposed to be.

You see the moment Azriel snaps back into reality. His spine goes still and his fingers are still in Cassian’s hair. He’s probably got a load of buck fat in his thick locks but Cassian couldn’t give a shit less when you’re both looking at him like that, all bedroom eyes and squirming bodies. He leaves the both of you to tend to the small fire, needing it but not wanting to draw any attention. Cassian will be up all night smoking the meat at this rate, and you intend on staying up with him.

There had been debate about returning to the house, building the fire within the fence, but you had vetoed it, not only because of the harrowing scene in the basement, but also because of the note you’d left Rhysand and Feyre should they come back. A 911 message that you were heading in this direction, sticking close to the main road and keeping an eye out for a beat-up pink Volkswagen. 

“You truly think it’s them?” Azriel asks, tone taking on a softer note.

You meet his gaze, nodding firmly. “I do. And I think Rhysand and her went that way.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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