#that was my healthy attempt 😅

[joelsprettyprincess]

Deja Vu

Summary: Joel is so, so lonely after his divorce. Luckily (or not), you look just like his ex-wife. Pairing: dark!Joel Miller x f!reader Wordcount: 7.3k Tags: Dubcon, stalking, drugging, somnophilia, age gap (mid 50s/early 20s), no outbreak, misogyny, delusions, obsessive behavior, Joel has an unnamed daughter (NOT SARAH), smut-adjacent (imagined and real-ish), non-consensual touching, slight daddy kink, use of a sex toy, piv in aforementioned sex toy, lots of creepiness from Joel. DDDNE. A/N: Whoo boy. Finally done. I really really apologize for just dropping off the face of the earth, idk what happened. But anyway here ya go, I think this is my darkest fic yet 😅I absolutely loved writing it. And a small warning, when I say lots of creepiness, I mean lots. I might have overdone it at some points tbh. And to better explain what "smut-adjacent" means, Joel never undresses the reader, just touches her a lot. I had to look up some crazy things for this fic so you're welcome, haha. Okay, enjoy and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! DON'T THINK I FORGOT. @thoughts-of-bear here ya go babes 💗 Thanks to @enchanthings for the divider 🙏💞

Joel knew you were at work right now.

Would be, until 10:30 at least. He had time. Plenty of time to set things up. 

Today hadn’t been easy. Tommy had brought on some new workers, straight out of high school practically, to help retile a roof. Instead, they’d horsed around in their hard hats and high-vis vests, doing fuck-all. Joel had given them a stern talking to, but it hadn’t done much. And now he just looked like a bitter old man.

Well, maybe that was who he was. A bitter old man, pushing 60, with no wife or meaningful friends. One who spent a little too much time scrolling on Instagram, touching himself to videos of barely-dressed models dancing to pop songs. But that was just a way to fill the void. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

Joel arrived home a couple hours before sunset, which, this late in April, wasn’t till nearly 8pm. That bitch Melanie had taken their two-bed house in the divorce, forcing him to take up residence in this cramped apartment a full half hour from the city. It was fine though. He took it all in stride. He was not bothered at all. Joel quite liked the place, really. Even if the walls were tinted beige after so many owners and voices whispered to him on his loneliest nights.

The faded light blue couch in the middle of the room welcomed him home. He laid down, feeling pangs of hunger but not yet possessing the strength to get up and throw Stouffer’s in the oven.

Joel propped his feet up on the armrest, and stretched, sighing. Pulling out his phone, he opened Spotify and put on the playlist that…well, never mind. He didn’t like to think about who made it for him. It was a good playlist, plenty of rock songs that somehow soothed him. 

Joel let the music play for a bit while he closed his tired eyes. Everyday he swore he wouldn’t do any more construction jobs lest he throw his back out, but he wouldn’t know what to do without it. Building made sense to him; it was solid, and made him comfortable. Plus it paid his rent.

It also gave him less time to indulge in his…vices.

He laid down for about 15 minutes before forcing himself off the couch with a low groan. Falling asleep on the couch when it was still light outside was a little too pathetic. 

Joel ventured into the tiny kitchen, flipping on the bright white overhead light. His beige-ish fridge greeted him. An old pink sticky note, covered in his small handwriting (an attempt to be more organized with grocery shopping), was peeling off. He watched it flutter to the ground in morose silence.

He opened the freezer compartment. It was filled with frozen meals and Ben and Jerry’s; not particularly healthy, but something was better than nothing, right? Joel did know how to cook for himself, but he found it hard to do so after Melanie left.

The Red Baron Fully Loaded pepperoni pizza looked good. He pulled it out and quickly turned the oven on while he pulled the pizza from the box.

Once the pizza was in the oven, Joel wandered to his bedroom. It was quite small, no surprise there. It just barely fit his mattress and dresser. That was all he really needed, anyway.

He was looking for his comfy sweatpants, the gray ones with the blue stripes going up the sides. He pawed through his pants compartment, but couldn’t find them. No matter how hard he tried, Joel just couldn’t be neat about his clothes.

Joel looked under the bed and grimaced when he saw what was under there— a purchase he was still embarrassed about, even six months later.

His fleshlight.

It was like a symbol of his fall into degeneracy after Melanie had left. Sometimes Joel felt as if he’d been marked as “undesirable” after the divorce— he couldn’t get laid to save his life. It didn’t help that he was fairly depressed and self-medicating with sleeping pills.

After about six months of countless failed one-night stands, Joel had ordered the toy in a moment of self-pity. It had taken some time getting used to it, but after he swallowed his pride he found that it was actually quite enjoyable.

Now he used it regularly, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t imagine it was a certain woman’s pussy.

It had been Melanie that he imagined, for a while, up until January. That was when he met you. 

It had started when he’d entered the CJ Midd a few months ago, looking for a present for his sister-in-law, Maria. Tommy had told him women loved going there, so Joel had gone to the huge, disorganized department store.  It was quite packed full of people with Christmas money.

Joel felt a bit out of place, but he browsed the aisles, looking for something Maria might like. Eventually after sifting through the piles of vaguely-related items (and resisting the urge to just get another mug), he selected a pretty jewelry box with plenty of compartments and space.

Joel trooped up to the register in triumph, only to be abruptly stopped by the mile-long line. There were at least 10 people in front of him, and…

He looked ahead to the registers, and his mouth briefly fell open. A bolt of surprise and anxiety coursed through his body from head to toe. That was…but it wasn’t…

The cashier looked exactly like his ex-wife. Same facial features, same hair texture, similar body shape, just maybe 30 years younger. It was accurate down to the curve of her lips. It was almost uncanny. She could almost be her—

Joel’s thoughts were interrupted by a monotone, robotic female voice coming from the register. “Next. Customer. On. Register Three.”

They’d opened another lane, finally. But…he had to get a closer look at the cashier. Would the universe line up correctly?

Joel waited nervously as the line inched forward, now going slightly faster thanks to the additional cashier. His feet and back started aching, but he held out till there were two people ahead of him.

If his timing was accurate, then…he actually might have to go to the other cashier. Cmon, God, karma, something, he silently prayed, hoping maybe someone would be very quick or very slow.

But his luck wasn’t up to par today. The elderly couple in front of him went to her register, and the young man at the other lane was gathering his bags as they did this.

“Next. Customer. On. Register Three,” the robot spoke, though it wasn’t needed— Joel was already there, albeit unwillingly. He tried to surreptitiously steal glances at the girl while the male cashier in front of him scanned the jewelry box.

She had a pretty smile. He could see a hint of teeth, and watched in awe as her tongue darted out to dampen her lower lip. Suddenly, he needed to get out of here, fast. His palms felt warm and dry at the same time.

Joel hurriedly tapped his card on the reader. After the cashier handed him his receipt, he tried to be as suave as possible and make it seem like he wasn’t ogling her. But the resemblance to Melanie was seriously insane. He took note of the name on her uniform, filing it away. He wondered how he’d never seen her before. Was she new to town? A student at the university 10 minutes from here?

He swallowed hard as he passed her— “Do you need a bag, ma’am?”—And something in him stirred. Not in his pants but in his heart; he had to…see you closer. To know you.

Joel carefully indulged in a controlled interest in you. That was what he repeated to himself a dozen times a day, when he thought about you over his morning coffee, while Tommy gave him the rundown of their latest job, while he drove home listening to Nickelback, while he desperately fucked his fleshlight in the dark. It would not get out of hand like he was known to do. He compartmentalized you into neat packages and only took you out at certain times of the day.

But his mind, his thoughts, they couldn’t stay normal for very long. Your face inevitably bled into his imagination after hours. He returned to CJ Midd the week after that initial meeting, only this time you were stocking the floors. Joel wandered around for a couple hours, carefully stealing glances at your back while you worked, lurking in the next aisle over. When a 30-something year old woman asked where the pots and pans were, Joel closed his eyes and soaked up the sweet honey that was your voice. Then you said, “Well, I’ll show you-” and his eyes flew open as footsteps approached the aisle where he was standing.

Joel very quickly turned around and walked away, heart pounding, just as you and the woman rounded the corner. He darted into the next aisle, then walked further to the back of the store, opposite of the direction you were heading.

He wrung his hands nervously. Shit. If you’d seen the way he was lurking near you, he would have looked very suspicious indeed.

This close call forced Joel to evaluate his actions while he caught his breath in what was apparently the toy section. He was stal— No, no. No need to describe it so harshly. He was simply observing you, that was all. Just trying to find out more about you. People did that all the time when they had a crush.

But this wasn’t a crush in the traditional sense. For one, he knew basically nothing about you besides your name. He didn’t know if you were a student, what your personality was like, not even your last name. Also, it was more than likely he was simply hung up on the fact that you looked so much like Melanie. Some quasi-projection shit, no doubt.

The biggest issue was your age. Joel almost felt predatory, staring at your face that hadn’t been sullied by stress or loss yet. He guessed you were around 23, give or take a few years.

In fact, you seemed so young you could probably pass as his—

He didn’t finish that thought.

Joel spent the next few months learning your schedule at CJ Midd, as well as gleaning as much information as he could. He learned that you worked nights on the weekdays plus Saturday mornings. You wore a lot of band shirts, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that they included some artists he was a big fan of. Occasionally while spying on watching you stock, he would watch you close your eyes for 10 seconds or so and rub your eyes, like you were incredibly tired.

You had a pretty smile. Not the customer service plaster, but the real deal. One that lit up your whole face with dimples and smile lines. It was beautiful and he wanted to see more, more, more of it. More of you. He couldn’t help but imagine your relationship together: lazy Sunday mornings eating bagels, a quick kiss on the cheek before he left for work during the week, cuddling in bed and getting you to massage his back.

“I’m home, baby,” Joel announced, closing the door of his quaint little house. The TV was playing an old sitcom and he could smell good food cooking…pasta?

“Hey. Dinner’s pretty much ready, g’on ahead and wash up,” you called out.

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, and went to change out of his yard clothes. It had been a hard day of fixing an old, falling-apart deck.

When he got to the dinner table, you were fixing his plate. Today you had made the spaghetti he loves so much, plus garlic bread on the side.

“Perfect, as usual,” Joel told you. He came up to stand behind you at the counter and squeezed your butt, chuckling when you squeaked.

“Sit down, sir,” you mockingly ordered him. “Brewed up some sweet tea too, know how you like that.”

“You know me so well, honey.” Joel poured himself a glass of sweet tea, then sat at the table while you got your plates together.

He glanced at his phone, then groaned. “”S fuckin’ Melanie again,” he sighed.

You looked over. “Really? What does she want now?” You brought over his plate, placing it in front of him.

“Apparently she left some of her hair tools here. She wants to come and grab ‘em tomorrow.”

You sighed, sitting down with your plate and tea. “That annoying bitch. She’s so obsessed with you.”

He smiled and tried to hide it, sipping his tea. “Is my babygirl jealous?”

You scoffed. “Not jealous of that snobby woman, I promise you. I bet there ain’t even anything for her to grab, she just wants to see you. I wish you’d block her.” You twirled a few noodles around your fork and stabbed a bit of meat.

“I consider it a charitable act. She’s clearly lonely, had to move out so far,” Joel said. “I helped her move to that apartment— tiny as hell.” He chuckled.

“Well, I still don’t want her over here,” you insisted. “From all the things you’ve told me about her, it’s a wonder you’re not in serious therapy.” Your eyes narrowed. “That selfish, manipulative bitch doesn’t know how good she had it. You were the best thing that ever happened to her and she threw it away for nothing.” Your eyes softened and you smiled. “But at least you’ve got me now.”

Joel snapped out of his fantasizing and realized that, one, his pizza was still in the oven, and two, he was partially hard. At some point during this walk down memory lane, he’d climbed onto his bed and was gripping the fleshlight. He let it fall from his hand onto the dark green bedspread, then picked it back up and placed it on his dresser. (“It’s a surprise tool, that’ll help us later,” chirped his darkly humorous mind.) As it turned out, his sweatpants were on the floor by his closet, initially hidden by the dresser. Joel picked them up and pulled them on, careful not to excite his growing erection.

He’d be back for that fleshlight.

He went back to the kitchen. Less time had passed than he thought; the pizza wasn’t nearly done. Well, while he waited, he would double check the preparations for tonight.

There was a brown wooden side table by the front door that acted as Joel’s catch-all, where he put his keys and bag. He had a satchel sitting there now, already full. He opened it up. 

Inside there was several items:

A lockpick. A baseball cap. Napkins. Gloves. A small camera. And finally, his other “surprise tool”. The critical item for everything going smoothly. He closed the bag.

Joel sat on the couch, flipping through Hulu till he finally settled on a random movie. Most TV was just noise to him now. He was deaf except when your lips graced his ears with speech.

He ate his pizza in silence. It was about 6:45 now, and the sun’s rays were still shining through Joel’s windows. It would be unwise to leave before sunset, considering what he’d be doing would require some…finesse and privacy. So, he would wait at least until the sun went down before leaving.

At 8:30, while you dreamt of closing early and going home, Joel left his apartment to drive 20 minutes to yours. The sun was setting and the air was humid and muggy, making him uncomfortably warm as he drove his beat up dark blue truck. His satchel was in the passenger’s seat beside him. Traffic in Austin was always heavy, but you lived far enough from the urban area that he managed to avoid it for the most part.

He went over his plan for the thousandth time. Let himself into your apartment, look around a bit, set up a camera to keep an eye on you.

And drop off a gift.

You were still at work— Joel knew this not just because he knew your schedule, but because it had only taken a month and a half of “observation” before he camped outside in his car around closing time and waited for you to come out. He’d identified your car, an old black Toyota Corolla. Then he’d stuck an AirTag on there one night, allowing him to very easily track your trips in real time. If for some reason you left work early, his handy phone app would inform him. Maybe cell phones weren’t all bad, Joel thought, scoffing.

The AirTag had allowed Joel to pinpoint your neighborhood, which he visited a few times. And after a bit of driving around and watching from his car, he learned which collection of buildings you lived in.

He’d gotten lucky, really. If the door required some sort of keycard to get in, he’d have to sweet talk some resident into letting him in. But when he tried the door during a “test run” of sorts back in March, it swung right open. The lock was broken.

Joel could almost laugh at the stupidity, but he just smiled and shook his head. It was like you were asking to be followed.

He’d wanted to explore your apartment, but chickened out at the last moment. One day, he thought.

And that day was today.

Joel ground his teeth, jaw clenched with anticipation while he thought about you. So beautiful and vulnerable and real it physically hurt him. He felt like running around, just to express his emotions. He felt very strongly that if he got the opportunity to talk to you, the two of you would just click. He bet you were so friendly, so understanding, so empathetic. Although he’d only seen you interact with customers and occasionally your coworkers, Joel could tell there was something special inside of you. He’d gotten that same feeling when he met Melanie for the first time. Something that made you stick out from the crowd, something that said you were destined for more. 

Well, he would give you more.

Joel arrived in front of your apartment complex just before 9. It was dark outside, and there were  just a couple teenagers walking down the sidewalk in front of the parking lot. He pulled on the gloves, put on the baseball cap, grabbed his satchel, and exited the car, heart thrumming. He approached the door coolly, praying it was still as broken as it was 2 months ago.

And sure enough, the door came open. He was in, easy as that. Good.

There was no one in the tiny, dirty lobby, lit by a single flickering light. The elevator was out of order. Dammit.

Joel jogged up the stairs, but quickly had to slow to a walk. Old age was getting to him for damn sure. 

Finding out your exact address had probably been the easiest part. After he identified your car, Joel simply used a handy online tool that told him exactly who was registered to your license plate, and where you lived. Honestly, he was starting to like technology more and more.

You lived on the fourth floor. The hallway was quite narrow, and dotted with dark brown doors displaying apartment numbers in shiny black metal.

Your room number was 403. Near the front. Not great, but oh well.

Joel checked the tracker app once more, then walked quietly up to your door, even though it really wasn't necessary. There was no one out here. He could hear faint voices laughing and talking behind the other doors.

His heart was pounding, not just from the stairs but from anticipation and anxiety. His cardiologist, whom he hadn’t seen in years, would say he needed to “lay off the strenuous activity.”

Though he knew it was fruitless, Joel tried your front door. Locked, obviously. That was okay. No biggie. That’s what the lockpick was for.

He brought it out, hands trembling and sweaty in the gloves. This was it- no turning back after this.

Joel had watched a few videos in preparation, and carefully inserted the lockpick. He quickly looked up to see if anyone was watching. Nope. It was just him.

He wiggled it around, but it did nothing. He wiggled it some more, growing more nervous by the second. Okay. Calm. Easy does it. He slowed his efforts and re-inserted the lockpick. After just a couple seconds of finagling, the lock clicked. Joel tried the door and it came open. No fuckin’ way. 

Joel grinned in disbelief, then quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind him, re-locking it. He couldn’t believe it had been that easy. He almost felt sorry for you, living in such a poorly secured area. Well, it was good for him, at least. And it absolved some of his guilt. If it was so easy to find out all this information about you, surely the universe wanted him to get closer?

He flipped on the light switch and looked around at your living quarters. It was around the same size as his apartment, maybe even a bit smaller. A gray loveseat was pushed against the wall, with quite a few clothes thrown over it. A wooden coffee table housed a small TV plus some stacked books. In the corner was a table with random things on it; mail, pencils, a couple business cards. At the back of the room was a kitchenette; just an oven, a tinted beige fridge, and counter space. Most of the counter was taken up by a dirty microwave and a sink.

Joel took this all in, then went to where he knew the real prize would lay. To the right was a door that led to your bedroom. He hesitated only a second before entering.

The first thing Joel noticed was that it was messy. Clothes were strewn everywhere; draped over a rolling chair that sat in front of a narrow desk, spilling out from a dresser, and just on the floor. Your bed was unmade, with a dark blue blanket and an excessive amount of stuffed animals. A laptop, covered completely in stickers, lay on the bed, charging. On the desk was a couple plates and a cup; no doubt you kept forgetting to bring them to the sink.

He checked the app again. Still at work. It was a few minutes after 9 now. Plenty of time, no need to worry. 

Joel wanted to explore your dresser, but reminded himself of the reason he was here so early. Exiting your bedroom, he went back to the living room. Looking around, he identified a small shelf Command-stripped to the wall with a few character figures. That could work.

He brought out the camera. It was pretty small, so hopefully it would go unnoticed for a while. He carefully positioned it in the corner, partially hiding it behind a figure.

This camera had an app, too. Joel chuckled. You were teaching him so much about modern technology. He opened it up; he’d already set it up beforehand to test it. It was still working perfectly; he had a clear view of the living area and kitchenette.

Good. Now that the camera was out of the way, there was just one more thing to do before he could explore further.

Joel walked over to the fridge and opened it. He was looking for any opened drinks, and found them: An open can of Pepsi, and a Corona beer. He took them both out and placed them on the counter.

He reached inside his satchel and brought out one of the “surprise tools” he’d packed: A bottle of Rohypnol. He had spent a lot of time, money, and energy obtaining this, but he’d gotten it in the end. This was the key ingredient.

Joel dropped one tablet in each of the drinks, swishing them around to be sure they dissolved. Then he put the drinks back where they were.

Well. That was both tasks done, and it was barely 9:15. He still had time.

Joel decided to go back to your bedroom. Closing the door behind him, he made a beeline for the dresser, where he hurriedly searched through the drawers for a specific item. And at the bottom left compartment, he found it; your panties. 

There were quite a few pairs. He pawed through them, hardly knowing which one to grab. He took off his gloves and finally grabbed two pairs; one was a light blue pair in the thong style, with a little white bow at the front. The other was a pair of plain gray boyshorts.

He hesitated, then lifted them to his nose. He nearly reeled from the scent- it smelled, well, it smelled like a woman. A natural pussy. He sat stiffly on the bed and laid on his back, bunching your panties up in his fist and placing his nose just above the gusset. Fuck, they smelled crazy good. There was a day that Melanie had come home to Joel jerking off in her panties, and he’d incorrectly assumed she’d be into it. Instead she yelled at him for “ruining a good pair of panties with his degeneracy.” He’d been so embarrassed he couldn’t even point out she could just wash it.

He hoped you were into it.

Joel’s cock was stiff in his pants, but he didn’t want to relieve it. Not yet. He put the blue thong in his pocket and returned the boyshorts to their drawer. He ought to leave now, and wait.

He double checked that he hadn’t moved anything out of his place, then carefully crept out of the apartment. His heart jumped when he saw movement in the hallway, but it was just a kid. Nothing to get worked up about.

Joel made sure your door was locked, then went back down and exited the building. He strode back to his truck, exuberant and excited now.

Now all there was to do was wait.

It was 9:50, but it felt like the seconds were crawling by.

Today actually hadn’t been an awful shift, but you had been stuck on the register for most of the day. Your feet ached horribly. 

Just ten more minutes, you told yourself. 10 minutes, and then hopefully all the customers would be out the door and you could quickly close down your register.

Sometimes people liked to stick around right up until closing time, and obliviously annoyed everyone working.

However, luckily, today no one was in the mood for those shenanigans. You checked out the last customer at 9:59, right on schedule. Garrett, the assistant manager, locked the doors exactly at 10.

From then it was just a waiting game while he counted up your register. You finally were able to sit down, checking all your notifications from the last couple hours. 

One of your friends had posted about her date with her boyfriend, and you felt a tinge of jealousy. It was apparently so easy for everyone to find a partner, except for you. You didn’t know if you stunk or were secretly disfigured or what. 

You scrolled past her post, deciding not to give in to your envious feelings. Romance would come for you one day.

“You’re good to go,” Garrett called out to you from the office. You sighed, then got up to grab your bag. No reason to stick around. 

After clocking out, you promptly left the store and got in your car. It was always a bit scary getting in when it was so dark. You really ought to start parking closer to the doors, but the parking lot was usually pretty full when you arrived.

You started the car and began driving, eager to eat and go to sleep.

The alarm Joel had set jerked him awake from his nap at 10. He quickly checked the tracker. Still at CJ Midd. Hopefully you would be home in 15 or 20 minutes.

He continued to monitor the tracker for about 10 minutes till it finally moved, then started crawling towards your apartment. Finally. His heart skipped a beat.

More waiting in the dark of his truck, then he looked up to see you were actually pulling up beside him. Jesus. Joel ducked down, suddenly nervous you might see him and recognize him. You were so close, too close. He could hardly breathe.

He kept his eyes tightly shut and his head down, listening to you turn off your car and get out. Joel counted to five, then dared to look up.

You were walking towards the building, and soon disappeared inside. Joel swallowed thickly, then opened up the camera feed. A couple minutes passed before you appeared on the right side of the screen. His mouth hung open and he stared, transfixed, as you threw down your bag, kicked off your shoes, and ran your hand through your hair.

Joel watched you immediately crash onto the couch, laying down for a good couple minutes before shifting into a sitting position. You put your feet up on the table and rested there.

He observed with bated breath. Joel didn’t really know what he would do if you didn’t drink either of the things he’d spiked.

But then, oh happy days, you got up and went to the kitchen, opening the fridge. Blood roared in Joel’s ears as he watched you take out the Pepsi and take a big swig of it.

Good. It was inevitable now. Just a matter of time. He’d be in there in less than half an hour.

You took another sip and put the can down on the counter. Then you opened up a cabinet and came out with a chocolate bar, which you ate on the couch. Joel watched in awe as your movements got slower and slower. You got up, then, apparently changing your mind, laid back down on the couch, stretching lazily. The chocolate fell from your hand and your body sagged, finally succumbing to the rohypnol. 

Joel smiled goofily. He couldn’t believe that had actually worked. It had worked beautifully. He wasted no time grabbing his satchel again and hustling to the building. Honestly he probably should have waited a few minutes to be sure. But his cock was painfully hard in his jeans. He needed release, now. 

He climbed up to the fourth floor again, double-checking that no one was around to watch him slip into a young woman’s apartment. Then he glided up to your door, then nervously lock picked it again. The door came open even easier this time. Seriously, it was like you were begging for this.

Carefully cracking the door open a bit, Joel peeked inside. You were still on the couch, passed out. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him, locking it securely.

He was in.

Joel walked over and examined your unconscious body. You snored softly, eyes delicately closed. Heavens above, you were so pretty. Just like Melanie. 

He’d forgotten to bring rope to bind your hands with, but that was okay. Joel lifted your body and carried you bridal-style to the bedroom, depositing you on the bed on your stomach. Then he climbed on and knelt on all fours above you.

He was acutely aware of his heavy breathing. His cock was straining at his jeans, probably already leaking pre-cum.

Joel pulled out his phone and flipped you onto your side. He aimed the camera at your face and snapped a few photos, licking his lips. Those would come in handy in the future.

Then he examined your body some more. His hungry eyes ran over your hair, the curve of your lips, your breasts, and your legs. It was all beautiful to him.

He stroked your cheek and let out a sharp, quiet whine. Your skin was so soft.

He tried to control his breathing, but it was no use. Your faint scent was heady, and he was glad you hadn’t showered- he wanted to indulge in your natural smell.

Joel put his nose to your collarbone and sniffed. Fuck, that smelled good as hell. His lips were parted and he couldn’t help but quickly lick your neck. His cock twitched.

At this point he was just edging himself, so he quickly unzipped his pants and stepped out of them, keeping his boxers on.

He’d already made this promise to himself: he would not take you without your permission. He was a gentleman.

However, as long as he didn’t directly touch your naked body, the only crime committed here, really, was breaking and entering. Oh, and drugging you.

Melanie’s face floated through his mind. She’d called Joel “controlling” and “suffocating” and even “abusive” when she’d demanded a divorce. That bitch. She didn’t know how controlling he could really be. Didn’t know how fucking ridiculous it was to get a restraining order, how it destroyed his world, when all he wanted was to see was his daughter. Their daughter. 24 years old now, was graduating from college next month, and he couldn’t even be at her graduation. The light of his life, taken away by the manipulative liar he once called his wife.

Joel grit his teeth. He looked at you, at your face, that was so like his ex-wife’s. And his feelings were warped. He loved you, for who you could be, and he hated you, for who you were like. It was like he was getting a do-over, a second chance…not at redemption, but at revenge. 

He looked down at your shirt to see that a bit of spit had dripped from his mouth and made a puddle. He was drooling, lost in a dark fantasy. He closed his mouth.

Joel got up and pulled off his black t-shirt, then opened his satchel for the final thing he needed tonight.

The fleshlight.

If Joel couldn’t actually touch you, then he would replicate it as closely as possible. He brought out a small bottle of lube as well. Then he stepped out of his boxers, allowing his thick, throbbing cock to finally spring free and stand at attention. He spread some lube on his shaft, inhaling slightly as he finally felt some respite. He then climbed back on the bed and balanced the fleshlight on your butt and back, aligning it so the hole lined up with where he imagined yours was.

Taking a deep breath, Joel laid on top of you with his cock pressing on the fleshlight. His legs were on either side of your body, slightly squeezing into your butt. He paused, then closed his eyes. Imagined you were fully conscious and panting underneath him, spreading your legs wide to accommodate his fat shaft. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whined, using one hand to keep your asscheek spread. You looked back at him with teary eyes, driven insane by his edging and teasing.

“You want it?” he demanded, slapping your other asscheek, giving it a reddish tinge. “You want my cock, you needy little bitch?”

“Yes, please please please,” you cried, moving your butt back and forth, rubbing it against his weeping tip.

“You’re so fuckin’-” He licked his lips. “Tell me who your Daddy is.”

You whined. “You are, Daddy, you are.” 

Then you looked back at him again, and your face had morphed to Melanie’s. Joel briefly faltered, then his eyes narrowed. “You greedy whore.”

His ex-wife pouted. “I want it, Daddy. I miss you.”

He dragged in a ragged breath. “You do?”

You nodded.

Joel looked down at the fleshlight and growled, “This is what you get for leaving me.” He gripped the black casing of the toy and slid inside, whining loudly. Panting, he leaned over your unmoving body, one hand gripping the case and the other in your hair. 

Then he started moving, in and out of the fleshlight. A low growl sounded in his throat and he thrusted faster, channeling all the anger and hopelessness he’d felt for the past year. Your body bounced along with his movements.

Joel sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting softly. Then he licked your face all over; your neck, your cheek, even a bit of your nose. Though he’d swore to himself he wouldn’t touch you…this wasn’t touching, really. It was basically foreplay. Nothing serious.

He was faintly aware of how he was growling and breathing heavily in your ear. If you were conscious, you probably would be terrified. Good thing you weren’t. He humped your body, fucking the fleshlight with all his might, pretending it was you or Melanie or both, he guessed. Pretending, or perhaps halfway believing, that this was his opportunity to work out his rage.

“Is this too controlling, baby?” Joel whispered, squeezing your asscheek. “I’m the- only one- who dicks you down like this.” He punctuated each phrase with a hard thrust into the fleshlight. “Ungrateful bitch. You’re the controlling one, not letting me see my own daughter. My baby girl.” 

Joel continued to fuck the fleshlight wildly, muttering angry words all the while and occasionally drooling when he got too lost in a violent fantasy. His fingers gripped your shoulder harshly- it would probably leave marks you wouldn’t be able to explain in the morning. No matter. It was still fine- you were still fully clothed. He was not doing anything wrong. 

“Ah! Joel, fuck, please, it’s so big-” you gasped, eyes rolling from the overstimulation.

“You regret leaving me now, don’t you?” Joel demanded.

You nodded desperately. “Yes, please, fuck, I never should have left, I’m so fuckin’ stupid-”

“Damn right,” he muttered, continuing to fuck you. “You’re lucky you’ve got a tight pretty pussy. Fuckin’ falling apart on my cock, ain’t you?”

Whining loudly, you cried, “C-Can I come back, Daddy? Please, I’m nothing without you, so useless, so stupid, pleaseplease Daddy I wanna c-comee-”

With a shout, Joel’s balls tightened and, mouth hanging open, he emptied his load in the fleshlight. His thrusts got sloppier, and his cock slipped out, slotting neatly between your asscheeks. He didn’t falter, just jerked himself off on your butt and shot thick, white bursts of cum. Joel buried his face in your neck and humped you wildly, riding out his orgasm without a second thought.

When he’d finally drained his balls, Joel collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. It was a minute or two before he realized the gravity of the situation. He’d ruined your clothes, and probably left bruises on your arms as well. Shit. He’d gotten too into it.

He examined the damage. There were a few fairly thick lines of cum on your pants and shirt, and some more had leaked out of the fleshlight onto your blanket. Joel first picked up the fleshlight, then took it to your bathroom to wash it. He let the sink run through it while he grabbed some paper towels and came back to where you lay. Miraculously, you were still sound asleep. He looked at his phone. Nearly 11. You would stay unconscious for another six hours, at the very least. 

Joel wiped the cum off your body as best as he could, and luckily it didn’t smear too bad. You might question the random stain on your clothes, if you even saw them before washing them, but you’d have no idea what caused it. 

He dabbed at the marks in your skin as well, but there wasn’t much he could do about them. At least he hadn’t drawn blood.

Once he’d cleaned you up, Joel pulled his clothes back on, then went back to the bathroom and switched off the water. He shook the excess out of the fleshlight, then dried it off a little with some paper towels. He’d probably have to clean it again later just to be sure.

Then he came back to the bedroom and carried you to the living room again. Since you’d passed out on the sofa, it was best if you woke up there as well. Joel arranged you in what he was pretty sure was your original position, then gently kissed you. You were so beautiful. He felt a little embarrassed that he’d projected his anger onto you like that.

At least he felt much better now, having practically beat up the fleshlight.

Joel reminded himself again that he’d done nothing wrong, besides maybe breaking and entering. And even then, security had been so flimsy you’d basically asked for it.

He was owed this, really. 

And since the universe had clearly aligned to let Joel into your life, maybe he’d visit again sometime.

Giving you one final kiss on the forehead, Joel shouldered his satchel and left you on the couch, his own little Sleeping Beauty.

His pretty darling.

Maybe even his future wife.

The world was blurry and dark as you slowly opened your eyes. You were disoriented and dizzy.

What…happened?

You looked around. You were still in your work clothes, laying over the sofa. What time was it? Why were you still in your day clothes? And what was that smell?

You struggled to sit up, and your head pulsed, sounding like a train whistle. It was difficult to make anything out in the shadows.

After laying down for a bit longer, you finally managed to hobble your way to the light switch, bumping into furniture and holding your head the whole way there. The lights were flicked on and you quickly closed your eyes.

The light took some getting used to, but you slowly reopened your eyes and eventually were able to look around, albeit with the headache remaining. Your shoulders ached too, you guess because you’d slept in an awkward position.

The room looked…the same. Everything seemed to be in place, nothing was missing or moved. 

You tried to locate the source of the faint smell, but it was like it was following you. Eventually you gave up and figured you’d fallen asleep right after eating something. You couldn’t identify it though. But it smelled…heavy. And wet.

Now, where was your phone?

You looked around for it, and it turned out to be still in your bag. You squinted against the harsh blue light.

It was 5:52AM. What a strange, random time to wake up.

You thought hard about last night. The last thing you remembered was getting home from work and grabbing a snack. That was it. You hadn’t fallen, hadn’t drank, weren’t even particularly tired.

It was a mystery. Maybe you were more exhausted than you thought.

Eventually you made your way to your bedroom, still feeling sick. To your surprise, the smell got a little stronger when you entered.

It was unclear why. The room looked the same, nothing out of order or obviously missing. 

You followed your nose, and it led you to the bed. It still wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.

You put your nose to the bedspread and smelled, and nearly gagged. Ugh. Did you spill something there and forget about it?

In any case, you clearly needed to wash your sheets. You didn’t do that often enough anyway.

However, that could wait until later. You had work again later today, but it was way too early to be awake…plus you were still sleepy…

Crawling onto your bed, you shimmied out of your pants, then laid down, too tired to even get under the blanket.

You tried to fall asleep, but after a couple minutes shifted position and felt something touch your right foot. You jerked, then reached down to grab whatever it was.

You brought it out and held it up to the slowly advancing twilight.

It was a glove.

[terriblepersongreatseamonster]

Something that comes up in the light novels is Maomao acknowledging that she feels safe with Jinshi. It even comes up after volume 5. Some spoilers for the light novels ahead.

Maomao isn't like Jinshi when it comes to experiencing love. For Jinshi love is this overpowering, overwhelming, fiery thing. Maomao doesn't seem to be given to those types of feelings about another person (rare medicine ingredients are a different story 😅). And I think this is a part of why Jinshi's attempts to use his seductive charms on her don't work.

Maomao's life before Jinshi was not very safe. Yes, she had people who loved her & did their best to protect her, that's very clear. However, she lived with the constant threat of abduction &/or rape. Years after it happened, she still has nightmares about her mother cutting her finger. She also grew up believing Lakan had abandoned her & her mother for the first few years of her life (and he freaked her out once he did come back).

Safety is one of those things that you don't really think about, unless you've experienced feeling unsafe. While my childhood wasn't the same as Maomao's, there was a tremendous amount of food & financial insecurity. My mom's mental health was not the best, and while the abuse was never physical, there was abuse. I was not safe with her. When I was in my mid-30s, a few years after I got married, I had a startling realization that for the first time in my life I felt safe. My husband & our home made me feel safe. I looked back at when we got together & it dawned on me that the thing that drew me to him was how safe he made me feel. Even now, 5 years later, being able to feel safe is overwhelming & something I'm grateful for.

I experience feelings very similarly to the way Maomao seems to. I think that's part of why this story has really caught my attention. I do think Maomao loves Jinshi, but it's a softer, slower, calmer version of love, & certainly not the kind of romantic love we typically see depicted in visual & written media. He makes her feel safe.

Personally, I don't fully understand her being able to feel safe, because of things like the choking scene. That scene made me sick to my stomach, tbh. Both Jinshi & Maomao are masochistic. They didn't grow up seeing many, if any, healthy representations of attraction & romantic love. Maomao saw love being a transactional thing that people bought & sold. Jinshi saw his dad/brother take what they wanted, whenever they wanted from their concubines & consorts. They also live in a setting & culture that is fairly different from the kind I live in. By no means am I excusing or condoning things that, as far I'm concerned, qualify as sexual violence. However, I can look at the factors that have made both Jinshi & Maomao the people they are & the way they behave/interact with each other.

This is a work of fiction. These aren't real people. This is not a story for everyone, I can see it being very upsetting for people depending on their own life experiences. If characters always did the good thing, made the right choices, it would pretty boring. A story should have things that make you think. Characters should have depth & growth/development. This story does all of that.

[drdemonprince]

Reading your PDA piece was so eye-opening to me, esp your perspective on how it functions to increase and protect personal agency. I realize that I developed PDA towards flirting dating hookups etc after being SA'd and it's honestly kind of cool that my mind can create a psychic allergic reaction to protect me. Def thought I was just broken 😅

Yes!! PDA is a protective instinct borne out of excessive demand, overwhelm, or repeated boundary violations. I tend to have a reflex to reject and undermine people when they are attempting to get romantically close to me, as well, and it's honestly served as a useful proving ground of a person's patience and respect! These days I'm far from outright mean; I'm just a little bratty and sarcastic, and my most negative evaluations of the world are put on full display, as well as my fiercest inhibitions. These are all real aspects to me that I sometimes struggle with, and it's useful for a potential new partner to see them early on, so that we both can determine if they're truly interested in me and can handle it. It also protects me from a lot of manipulative or boundary-violating people -- which I am notoriously bad at noticing red flags for on my own. PDA can be a friend! Though of course, if you want to be able to get intimate with other people more, you can work to soothe those feelings of insecurity that are driving it, so that it can see you're safe, and settle down a bit. But it's okay if some flare-ups of self-defense are always there!

For those curious, here's the piece:

[luizd3ad]

Late Night | Poly!Jegulus x GN!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: James Potter x Regulus Black x GN!Reader WC: 1,005 CW: unhealthy sleep schedule, poly relationship, insomnia(??), slight anxiety, mentions of food (cookies), james worrying, no use of Y/N Author's Note: Damn haven’t wrote anything in a few weeks hope this isn’t like terrible 😅 Summary: You and Regulhs are being night owls

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹

James shot up when he heard what sounded like something being dropped on the floor. 

He immediately put his glasses on and looked to his side, getting a rush of anxiety when he realized he woke up alone. 

You and Regulus weren't there and it had to be at around two or three in the morning considering it was pitch black outside. 

James immediately got out of bed and walked out of the room as quickly and quietly as he could while he felt his heart beating out of his chest and his mind raced.

What if someone was in their home? What if someone was hurting you and Regulus? 

James cursed at himself when he realized he came out of the room empty handed. How did he manage to forget his bloody wand?

He felt as if it was too late to turn back now.

While James was looking around their home in search of you and Regulus he noticed that there was light coming from the kitchen. 

With furrowed brows he proceeded to the kitchen with caution, his mind still getting the best of him.

He peeked into the kitchen and James felt all his anxieties wash away but his confusion only heightened. 

There you and Regulus were talking in hushed voices while… eating cookies?

Were you and Regulus having cookies?

Without him?

James never felt so offended in his life. There you two were the loves of his life having snacks without him! Especially when the three of you should be asleep.

A true betrayal. 

“What are you two doing?” James asked, making his presence known. 

Regulus and you looked up at James slightly startled and looking like two kids who were about to be scolded. 

Which you and Regulus both knew was a possibility since James often stresses about the importance of a ‘healthy sleep schedule’.

Whatever the hell that means.

You immediately grabbed a cookie holding it out to James giving him the biggest smile you could manage attempting to distract him from the fact that it was the middle of the night. “Cookie?” 

Regulus just dropped his head looking down while shaking it obviously not impressed with your attempt to distract James. 

Apparently James wasn't impressed with your attempt either since he took the cookie you had offered him with a quiet ‘thank you’ but then he decided to repeat his question.

How Rude. Literally not at all.

“What are you two doing?”

“Nothing much, you?” Your response earned a small frown from James and a small smirk and chuckle from Regulus.

Regulus proceeded to wrap an arm around you, kissing your head softly trying to hide his amusement from James. “We've been caught darling. No use trying to get out of it now.”

“Worth a shot.” You muttered while shrugging. 

Regulus just chuckled again thinking to himself that you might be spending a little too much time with Barty.

“Are either of you going to answer my question?” James asked concerned and slightly irritated but you knew his irritation was only coming from a place of worry.

James had a tendency to worry a lot about the people he carried about.

Especially you and Regulus. 

Since you could remember James has worried about yours and Regulus sleep schedules. You two could stay up all hours of the night, sometimes even days and you both could function properly which worried James since sleep is very important in maintaining a healthy body and mind. 

“We couldn't sleep so we decided to make cookies.”

“We tried to stay quiet so as to not wake you but someone dropped the backing sheet.” Regulus looked at you with a teasing look in his eyes as you glared at him while you muttered something about it being an accident.

James continued to look at you with a concerned look in his eyes but he couldn't help but feel his irritation faded since he had always found it hard to stay upset with you two especially when you both were the cutest people he has ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on.

He just couldn't help but worry about your wellbeing. 

“Why didn't you wake me? I could have tried to help you two sleep.” 

“Jamie, it wasn't going to happen for us. It's just one of those nights.” You sent a small smile to James while grabbing his hand, pulling him towards you and Regulus gently. 

Regulus pushes some of James' hair out of his face so he could look in James' eyes; those eyes that Regulus loved with all his heart. “There was no point in all of us being awake mon amour.”

“Plus Jamie you get kinda grumpy when you don't get your beauty sleep.” Regulus nods in agreement while James just scoffs at the both of you but the small smile on his face shows he means nothing by it.

“That's beside the point. You could have still let me try… I just worry about you two sometimes.” 

Regulus pulls James closer so that the three of you are in a hug. “We know mon cerf, and you've done so amazing at helping us but sometimes old habits die hard and that's okay. Just because there's a few setbacks doesn't mean you've failed. We appreciate you so much.”

“We promise that we’re okay. Sleep just doesn't always come easy for us and that's not your fault.”

James sighs and nods, resting his head on you. “You're right, both of you.”

“Yeah. We normally are.” That earns a laugh from both of your boyfriends. 

James goes to give you a kiss on the cheek with a smile on his face while he whispers ‘I love you’. 

James stayed up with you and Regulus for as long as he could, finishing off the rest of the cookie and cuddling on the couch while watching movies.

You and Regulus stood up for most of the night till eventually all three of you were fast asleep on the couch in each other's arms.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹

[bisexualiteaa]

Okay so this has been spinning in my head since I watched the series and it might come across as a but of a strange one 😅

BUT, please could you write one where the reader is pregnant(by someone else), meets Cooper along the way and they hit it off, they go through the pregnancy together, they then in the end they raise this little baby together. Sort of cute fluffy and a lil smutty too. Thank you! ☺️

A Slice of Paradise

Cooper Howard x Pregnant! Fem Reader (SMUT MDNI!!)

CW: slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the show, slight deviation from the game, pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, pregnancy hormones, blood, canon typical violence and gore, dirty jokes, cursing, talk of kinks, biting, 🩸 kink, p in v, unprotected seggs, p0rn with little plot, mention of knives, possible grammar/spelling errors, not proofread

AN: thank you anon for your request! My apologies that I’m getting to these asks so late, life has been rather eventful and I’m only just getting back into the swing of writing after forever long writers block. 🥲 I thank you for your patience and apologize that there isn’t a whole lot of fluff in this one but that it absolutely has ✨S P I C E.✨ Hope y’all enjoy my attempted return to writing for our dearest cowpoke, love you all! ♥️

Taglist: @expirednukacola

Trying to survive out in the wastelands while pregnant was not how you had imagined your life to be when you first found out that you were going to be having a baby. When you had first learned that you were pregnant, you were living comfortably within one of the vaults that dwelled beneath the irradiated surface. You had been matched with a fellow vault dweller who they deemed befitting in their mission to “help repopulate the surface” and in an effort to help your people, you agreed to the arrangement. The overseer, and all the other scientists and workers within the vault, claimed that there was no residence or anything living in general, up on the surface and that it would be up to you and your neighbors to fix that. Never in a million years did you think that vault life would go to such complete and utter shit that you would have to come to the surface in order to survive. Never in a million years did you also think that you would find anyone up here willing to stick by your side and not try to kill you in your sleep, and when you did, you had never expected your company to be that of a Wild West cowboy styled, bounty hunting ghoul. Needless to say, life up here was so vastly different than what they had spoken of in the vaults, that some days you swore it couldn’t be real, that it was all just one big fucked up dream that you’d wake up from any time now. But no, this was all very much real. If you made it out of this alive and long enough to see the world even somewhat recover, you were going to write a book on the long list of weird shit you’ve been through.

“I said, give me the damn supplies. NOW!” you spat angrily, pointing the barrel of your gun directly to a raider’s forehead as an extremely angry scowl came to rest across your face. “I suggest you do as the lady asks, kid. She ain’t someone you wanna mess with” Cooper spoke chillingly with a grin, knowing your pregnancy hormones were in full effect today, leaving you moody as all get out, and on days like this, you weren’t afraid to cause bodily harm, or worse, to get what you wanted or craved. Your baggy shirts hid your pregnant belly well, though you were only just now reaching somewhere around four months along, you still didn’t want strangers knowing you were pregnant. God only knows what people do out here to women with babies, and the last thing you needed was someone thinking it made you weak enough to take advantage of.

When the raider’s reaction wasn’t quick enough to your liking, you fired on him without a shred of remorse. Stepping past his limp, dead body to retrieve the box of supplies that you demanded for the bounty Cooper had completed, along with a healthy amount of caps, stimpacks and other supplies from off of his body. “It’s gon’ be one of those days, huh?” Cooper asked, taking the box from you because he might not be the kindest man, but he wasn’t about to make a pregnant lady lug a heavy box of supplies across the desert either. Granted, he knew it was probably wrong of him to insinuate what he had or to poke fun at you the way he was, the grimace and absolute apathy on your face as you shot the raider in cold blood gave him all he needed for his answer, but he knew all too well how to poke the bear, and enjoyed doing so far too much for your liking most days. “Yes. I’m fucking hungry, craving that stupid cram and he was pissing me off. Took too damn long to give us what we’re owed” you answered, your hand coming to your stomach as you complained. “We? That’s a bit of a strong word there, little lady. ‘Cause if I recall correctly, it was me who finished that bounty” he said, enjoying getting on your every last nerve on the worst days possible to do so. It was sadistic sure, but it reminded him of the days when his ex-wife was pregnant with their baby girl. In a twisted sort of way it reminded him of home. “You tryin’ to tell me you’re gonna leave a pregnant lady out in the desert all by her lonesome? Damn, I knew you were cold, didn’t think you were that cold” you joked back, making him laugh dryly. “Oh trust me honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet” he said, making you laugh. Thank god you were on his good side, you’d seen all the horrifying things he was capable of, or perhaps all the things he’s let you see that he was capable of. Regardless, you were glad he considered you a friend rather than foe.

Well, friend was a strong word once upon a time, but now? You two seemed to tread on a line somewhere between platonic and romantic, jumping back and forth between it like a tricky game of hopscotch. Though you could never be sure, like the rest of the ghoul, he was shrouded in much mystery. His heart and intentions were certainly no exception to that. “Woulda at least let the poor kid have a chance first, unlike you. So I guess you ain’t gettin’ that much farther behind me there, girly” he commented, making you chuckle at the remark and you supposed he had a point, you really didn’t give the raider enough time but your patience has been running thinner and thinner as of late. So you did as you always do, blame the pregnancy and what the hormones were doing to your brain, or make a snide joke at Cooper. “I’d blame the baby again for it, but maybe you’re just a bad influence” you quipped, making him chuckle dryly. “Honey, I am an awful influence” he replied, making you laugh as you both walked. “You aren’t so bad sometimes. But maybe it’s just ’cause you like me” you responded with a devious grin, making him shake his head playfully in denial. “Best watch it, my kindness’s got limits darlin’ and they get smaller and smaller everyday” he said, making you chuckle. “Likely story. I cook too good for you to kick me to the dusty curb” you teased, and it was true, you were too good at cooking but also too good looking to pass up. More personally, you were a reminder of the good ol’ days before all the wasteland bullshit started. A reminder of the family he once had. He craved oh so desperately to have that little slice of heaven back, and you scratched that itch in a near perfect way that he just couldn’t let you go. Whether he liked it or not, he knew he was growing attached, and as much as he didn’t like it, he knew there was no helping it either. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe if you felt the same way he did, you both could have a little family together once your baby was born. A daydream he often thought of, but that was for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on keeping you safe as you both looked for a spot to shack up for the night.

As you made it somewhere safe, or as “safe” as safe gets out here for the night, you didn’t waste time making some food to keep you, the baby and Cooper fed after a long day’s travel. “That looks about as appetizing as a hog’s ass in swamp water” he spoke as he looked to your bowl filled with Blamco Mac n Cheese and cubed up Cram all mixed together in instant mash. “Don’t judge me, it isn’t me that’s wanting it so damn bad, it’s the baby” you replied, making him chuckle. Sounded exactly like what his ex-wife used to say when she had some outlandish craving when she was pregnant. “Besides, that’s coming from the one that eats people” you quipped as you horked down your entire bowl with lightning speed, making him tilt his head to the side. “Touché” he responded before turning your way when he caught you standing up out of the corner of his eye. He watched as you rolled your tense shoulders and attempted to massage your lower back to relieve the ache that began to culminate there but with the displeased look on your face, it appeared your efforts were fruitless. You hobbled over to sit by the fire, finding yourself walking rather funny from the ache in your feet and the tension throbbing in your tight calves. “You’re a walkin’ hot mess there, girlfriend” he teased, watching you squat to sit down next to him as you attempted to rub your back once more with a pained hiss. You gave a defeated, and equally pained, groan after chuckling at his quip. “Tell me about it. Had I known I’d have to manage up here, I’d have never gotten pregnant in the first place” you replied, rubbing your stomach after your hands once again could not provide you the relief from the tension your body craved to be freed from. “How far ‘long are ya now?” He asked, and you genuinely had to sit there and think about it for a moment. You figured with the way you were only really just starting to show more prominently that you were just about four months along, but you couldn’t honestly remember no matter how hard you tried. “What day is it?” You asked genuinely, making him laugh. “Shit, you don’t even know. That’ll be one hell of a surprise down the road when it pops out at the worst possible timin’” he joked, making you chuckle. “It’ll be a blessing, to finally stop carrying around the extra weight right on top of my bladder and allow some other things to shrink down a little bit maybe” you said, making him hum in amusement.

“I think it looks good on you. Plump is hard to come by these days and you sugar, got one nice lookin’ peach” he said shamelessly, making you laugh as he talked about your ass. “That why you like makin’ me walk in front of you all the time?” You asked with a grin, making him grin. “Can’t say it ain’t one of the reasons” he replied, making you laugh. “Careful, hormones are one hell of a thing to mess with when you’re talking to a pregnant lady. Suggest you don’t go starting something you can’t finish there, Coop” you threatened playfully, making him chuckle at your response. “Oh I can finish it, don’t you worry. It’s you that wouldn’t be able to keep up with me, sweetheart. ‘Specially not like that” he said, making you grin and give an intrigued hum at the challenge he was presenting you with. “Ain’t no love makin’ up here baby-doll, it’s straight up fuckin’. Sure we take our time with it, make ya feel good because it ain’t easy to come by, but it ain’t nothin’ like that soft vanilla shit you vaulties do” he said, making you grin as you leaned back on your hands and you saw the way his eyes almost immediately roamed your body. From your neck, down to your full tits that seemed to have gotten a little bigger since last time he looked at you real good, then to that cute little bump in your tummy, down to your hips and thighs that he just wanted to get a nice handful of. He wondered how soft you would feel in his rough hands, if you’d like the contrast. “Oh yeah? Think I don’t have kinks and shit like that just ‘cause I was in a vault? Can promise you some of us “vaulties” get our rocks off in similar ways to you wasteland folk” you responded, waiting to hear what his rebuttal would be. “Oh yeah? Like what?” He asked, watching you grin to yourself as you gave a soft chuckle. Normally you would never forgo this type of information about yourself, but it was a whole different world up here in the wastes, and this was a whole different you from that woman who came stumbling out that vault just some few months ago.

“Well, obviously one of those kinks is what got me pregnant in the first place” you started, making him chuckle because despite it not being anything crazy, it was still a little more interesting than some. “I like being choked, but I feel like everyone likes that one so that might as well still be vanilla” you said, making him laugh because you were right, that shit isn’t a kink up here, it’s standard practice. “So you think you like it rough, huh?” He asked as he pulled out his hunting knife, cleaning it while you both conversed oddly casually about kinks. His question made you blush a bit, it caught you off guard that he put two and two together so quickly. “I don’t think, I know I do” you answered truthfully, making him grin. “Hell, I bet you ain’t seen rough. I’d reckon you ain’t ever been manhandled by someone or used as a means of blowin’ off some steam” he said, looking at his reflection in the knife and watching the way you looked at him as he handled it. You might have thought he missed it, but he noticed the subtle way your thighs clenched together as he fiddled with it and talked about you being used and tossed around like a rag doll. “I have, just not…well, it wasn’t very good but they at least tried I guess?” You said, almost as if you were asking him and not telling him, making him laugh. “You askin’ me or tellin’ me? ‘Cause you sure as hell don’t sound so sure anymore” he replied, making you sigh. “Fuck it, who am I kidding? It was fucking awful. It wasn’t at all what I wanted it to be” you quickly admitted, making him hum in reply. “I will say…you’ve made me discover a few new ones since we started traveling together” you said almost nonchalantly, and that most certainly caught his attention. “Oh yeah? And what might those be?” He asked, genuinely curious of what he could have done to awaken something in you. “People in my vault were afraid to be rough, whether during sex or not but you aren’t and I like that a lot about you. I know you probably think I’m joking when I say I like “rough” or think I have no idea what rough entails but I do. I like being tied up, having knives involved, and getting manhandled and stuff like that” you said, making him chuckle at the very innocent seeming you, admitting to liking dangerous things. “That so, vaultie?” He asked, not wishing to admit just how much your bashful admission had gotten to him and instead was thankful for making you roll your eyes at the nickname to avoid catching sight of the issue beginning to grow in his pants at all the ideas now rummaging through his brain like a rampant wildfire. “That why you like starin’ at my knife each time I use it? And why you didn’t protest when I tied you up when we first met?” He asked, and you were almost mortified at his question, knowing now that he’d noticed all the times you’d sat there, infatuated by the way he used it. Embarrassed that he caught the look in your eyes the first time his fierce ones met your own as he bound your wrists together and walked around with you like a prisoner on a leash. “Yeah…didn’t think you caught me on it though. But enough about me and my kinks, how ‘bout you? What about sex with you is so different, huh?” You asked, trying your best to move the subject away from you but your question was like the cherry on top of his fucked up thoughts, making an evil grin stretch to his lips as you laid the perfect opportunity out for him to take.

“How ‘bout you come and find out for yourself, sugar?” He asked, taking you off guard by his advance, but you couldn’t deny the way it sent a surge of heat straight to your core at such a straight forward answer. The pregnancy hormones had been eating you alive lately, making you stare at him in ways you shouldn’t have, thinking about him in ways you knew you shouldn’t. Old you would have kicked yourself for thinking the way you had been and allowing yourself to seem so desperate, but you two were close enough at this point. It wasn’t as if you were stooping low enough to just fuck some random stranger. Well, scratch that, you sort of did that already because that’s how you wound up pregnant in the first place. Thanks Vault-Tec. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong, or seem so desperate of you after all. He chuckled at your look of shock at his reply, making you blush in embarrassment that you were nearly frozen, unsure of what to do or what to think when you normally always had something to sass him back with. “C’mon now, surely ya didn’t think this wouldn’t end up happenin’ did you? We been layin’ it on thick with each other f’ too damn long now to play that game” he said with such confidence, it almost pissed you off but you couldn’t be mad, not when the pregnancy hormones made you so incredibly horny for this man that you could hardly think of anything else. Your mind was swimming at all the ideas of what he could be capable of, what he had the potential to do. You were left truly wondering just how different, and possibly how much better of an experience it would be with him rather than the last time you’d had sex. You wondered if it would really be any different than what you and your fellow vault dwellers were accustomed to or if maybe he was talking up a big game to get you interested. Regardless of whether it was talk or not, it had the effect on you he was hoping it would, because now you were past the point of pretending you didn’t want to find out, you needed to know. You felt as your core began to ache, excitement beginning to collect in the pit of your stomach as your panties grew damp at all your dirty thoughts. “Honestly I…I-I didn’t know it passed your mind like it has been on mine” you admitted with a deeper blush, making him chuckle as he moved closer. “So ya do think of me? Well ain’t that cute” he replied. “Hard not to think about you like that when I’m watchin’ them nice big hips sway whenever you walk in front a me” he added, making you chuckle as your cheeks burned about as hot as the campfire. “I haven’t uhh…I haven’t *done anything* since I got pregnant so, I’m not really sure how to go about it but, if you’d be willing, I’d like to find out just how different it is to be with you” you said so sweetly, almost innocently and damn it if it didn’t make him feel some type of way. He chuckled to himself a little. “Looks like you’re in luck then. Even luckier that it’s with someone who’s got a little more experience in this field than the average hit ‘n quit” he said, and that’s what stopped you for a moment. Was that all that this was going to be for him? A one night thing to settle some curiosity, then go right back to the way things were? After all this time spent traveling together and getting close to him, you didn’t want that to be the case. It was in that moment you’d realized just how much you genuinely cared for the ghoul who was in your company.

“On one condition” you said, making him raise a non existent brow at you, curious to hear what you had to say. “It’s more than just a one time thing. I don’t…I don’t do flings. Call me a “deluded little vaultie” for it or whatever else you want, but I only want this if you want it to go somewhere, even if it ain’t anything more than a fuck buddy situation” you said, and truth be told he wasn’t completely sure on what he wanted. He knew it had been a long time since last he had a chance to do something like this with someone, and that he liked you but he also knew the thing going on between you had been going on for long enough, why not see where it goes? “Trust me sugar, if you’re still here travelin’ with me, ain’t none of it gonna be without somethin’ behind it. Had you asked me when we first met? I’d have told ya different, but against all better judgement ya managed to get me attached to ya. This is me tellin’ you to pay your consequence for bein’ such a damn tease all the time” he responded with a grin that relieved your every nerve, his hand coming to grab yours and moving it to the tent in his pants to prove his point, making you grin and chuckle. “Didn’t know I get you that worked up” you replied teasingly as you moved closer. “Imma let you in on a simple rule I like to live by, little lady; you cause it, you fix it” he said, and you grinned as you grabbed his hand, pulling it to slide beneath your shorts to rest outside your panties that were getting wetter and wetter with your excitement. “Looks like you got some responsibility to take too then, cowpoke” you said with a grin, and that’s when he knew this would lead to something good.

You smiled into your shared kiss, shocked to find the slightly chapped, thin irradiated lips to feel so nice against your own. It wasn’t sweet like the kisses you’d had before, it was carnal, passionate even. Driven by pure lust and god did it make you melt. Your hands came to rest on the back of his neck as you straddled his lap. Your knees were dug into the sand beneath his sleeping bag without a care in the world as his hands groped your ass and sensitive tits. You moaned as his lips and teeth soon worked at your weak spot on your neck, making you roll your hips against him as your eyes fluttered shut. You held onto him as you rocked your hips back and forth, earning a groan from the ghoul below you. “Fuck, Cooper…please” you whined, making him pull away from your neck to click his tongue at you. “You can beg all you want, but I ain’t skippin’ over the good parts just ‘cause you’re gettin’ antsy” he said with a grin up at you before popping open the buttons of your beat up flannel shirt and latching onto one of your breasts, sucking on the sensitive bud. You normally were self conscious of the fact that you’d foregone wearing a bra in favor of comfort, but in this moment you couldn’t be more thankful that it was one less article of clothing to worry about taking off. You moaned as his fingers toyed with the other side, pinching harshly as his teeth would occasionally nip at your perked bud or the soft skin around it, but being sure to give your tits equal love and attention. Rather shocked that you hadn’t yelped or drawn back at his rougher display to your overly sensitive nipples, he continued. “Fuck…” you whined, feeling as one of his hands dragged down to the waistband of your underwear, before working his hand beneath it to your clit. His fingers worked tight circles along your aching bud, leaving your head devoid of all thoughts as he brought you the pleasure your body had been craving for ages. You hated the way you felt so close to your impending release already, having been pent up since even before leaving the vaults, and now that you were pregnant, you were even more sensitive to it all. “Oh god, Cooper…” you panted out, your strained, pleading voice like music to his ruined ears as you moaned his name. “Doin’ good for me sweetheart” he praised, only adding fuel to the fire that was ready to consume you at any moment.

You moaned blissfully at the pleasurably painful stretch of him working his way inside of you finally. God how you ached for that feeling, to be stretched and filled in ways nothing else could give you other than him. “Damn you’re a tight little thing” he commented, already moving and setting a pace without giving you time to adjust. It was bliss, the painful draw out but the pleasurable thrust back in. You just couldn’t get enough. “Normally this is where I’d throw you around and fuck you absolutely stupid, but last thing I want is t’ hurt that baby” he said, making you wish you could know what it felt like to be used by him, to be thrown around and taken by him but you knew you couldn’t, not yet. “Maybe I’ll just give ‘em a sibling instead, how’s that sound, sweetheart?” he asked in your ear in a low rasp as the sound of skin slapping skin started to fill the air. A pleasant, tingling shudder ran down your spine at the prospect of it, clearly he hadn’t forgotten that first kink you’d told him about. He gave a grin, feeling the way your walls fluttered around his dick from his words, and seeing the effect it had on you left him nearly feral. Guess you weren’t lying when you said one of those kinks of yours was the reason you were pregnant. “Yeah? You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweet thing?” He asked, knowing the answer but he loved the way he had you absolutely cock drunk on him too much to not try and hear from you. “Yes! Fuck, I’d love that, please!” you said through your moans, making him chuckle. “I betchu would” he said all smug and proud. “Bet you get off on the idea ‘f fuckin’ someone who could rip you t’ shreds, dontchya sugar? Ya like it dangerous” he said, making you shake your head yes in reply. “Yes! Fuck- Cooper!” You moaned into the midnight air, your back arched from the ground as you moved your hips to meet his thrusts, desperately chasing your high. “Look good like this, sprawled out below me all helpless and vulnerable. I could just eat you alive” he said with a sadistic grin, his lips just below your ear, his breath ghosting your neck as he rocked his hips into you. “Bet you’d taste so fuckin’ good” he added, groaning through gritted teeth as he watched your engorged tits bounce with each harsh thrust, fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your soft, smooth skin. “Why don’t you- fuck! Have a taste and find out?” You replied, making him look up at you with a wild look in his eyes. It was untamed, feral even and by god if they weren’t the most magical words he’d ever heard. “Shit, don’t play with me” he said, looking at your neck and shoulder, practically drooling over the idea of how you would taste. “I ain’t playin’, bite me” you insisted, and with that, he surely wasn’t going to pass down such a beautiful opportunity.

His blunt teeth sunk into the flesh of your shoulder, making you hiss as a white, hot pain coursed through the muscle before simmering into something more pleasurable. “Shit! Cooper- fuck me, that feels good” You moaned as he almost seemed to use his teeth to attach himself to you as he rutted into you with reckless abandon, leaving you writhing beneath him in pleasure. His eyes rolled back as a moan left him from the taste of your blood flooding his tongue, you were even more delicious than he originally anticipated. Crimson coated his lips and teeth, a small stream even leaking from the corner of his mouth and down the column of his neck as he detached himself from you. He’d gotten his taste, given you an experience you certainly wouldn’t forget, but the sight below him was certainly one he would forever commit to memory. The imprint of his teeth marks that marred your otherwise perfect skin, deep purple beginning to blossom around it as blood faintly trickled down your chest from the fresh wound. If you weren’t delicious before, you were absolutely delectable now. He ran his tongue along the trail of blood, the hot, wet muscle leaving a trail of saliva in its wake as he traveled back up to the source before laving his tongue across the punctures in your skin that he left. “Freaky little thing” he said, grinning at the way you had enjoyed feeling him sink his teeth into you and allowing him to taste you in such a manner. “Told ya” you quipped before being cut off by your own moan as he found that sweet spot deep inside of you, brushing past it with almost perfect precision. “Right there! Fuck, just like that. So close…” you whined, making him chuckle. “Go ‘head sweetheart, let go for me” he permitted, and with that, the coil in your core snapped, sending you toppling over the edge into an orgasm so earth shattering you swore you were no longer on this earth in that moment. Cooper was quick to withdraw from you, wanting nothing more than to feel the sweet way your gummy walls would hug him as he came inside of you, but he couldn’t bare the thought of putting that precious baby of yours at any more risk. For now he would have to settle on finishing on you rather than in you, but the sight of you covered in his cum was surely another marvelous one to behold in his eyes. From the way your eyes sat lazily half lidded, to the way his seed looked upon your chest and stomach, he had to admit, it certainly wasn’t a sight to complain about.

You both took a moment to bask in the afterglow of your orgasms, coming down from cloud nine to do your best at steadying your breathing. The gentleman he was, he helped in cleaning you up, offering you some Rad Away to take when you were finally able to pick yourself up from his sleeping bag. “Sate your curiosity?” He asked with a grin as he slipped his pants back on and his duster, lighting up a cigarette to enjoy as he sat next to you. You gave a laugh as you redressed. “Sated my curiosity for tonight, but never know what these hormones have in store for me tomorrow” you replied, making him laugh dryly. “Suppose I can’t argue with that logic” he said, making you giggle as you took the Rad Away and got ready to sleep, thankful for the warmth his body provided in the frigid temperature of the desert night air. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring for you two, but at least you knew it was something you both could grow to explore. Maybe that slice of heaven wasn’t such a distant memory after all.

[changenameno]

Fingerblast PART 1

(Complete, link for the second part, down below ⬇️)

Summary:

It’s the middle of summer and therefore incredibly hot. Of course right then something had to be wrong with your AC. How fortunate for you that a handyman can come right over…

Pairing: Syverson x Short Fem. Reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cursing, explicit description of sex, thirst trap named Sy, teasing, size kink, chasing?, choking (if you squint?), p in v (use of y/n = Your first name) -> most of these warnings apply to the second part

Word count: 1.3 K

A/N: Okay here goes my first attempt at writing smut…This is way longer than I intended it to become, whoops. Honestly this just came to me while stumbling over a song (aka the title of this specific fic 🤣). Also I think this reads a little like a bad porn video SORRY…but anyway….here goes nothing🙈😅….

It’s not proofread, any mistakes are my own. Please be kind, comments/reblogs are very appreciated…Thank you❤️✨

!Syverson is not my own creation (unfortunately)! And the song/lyrics don’t belong to me either!

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PART 1

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since you’ve called but apparently the handyman had just arrived, if the heavy rumble of tires on gravel was anything to go by. So you made your way onto your porch, because honestly it didn’t make any difference if you’d wait in- or outside.

The heat had been crawling into your house since sunrise and now it was nearly more stifling inside, than out on your shaded porch. And at least here the stone beneath your bare feet was somewhat cooling.

You squinted at the huge red pickup truck now parked not far from your house.

Whoever was still seated inside was listening to music, clearly above a healthy decibel level, because you could hear it blasting even from where you stood quite a distance away.

At that exact moment the door swung open and you heard just a snippet of the song still playing, “Use my index, I can use my thumb.

Even use my pinky, it'll make you come. Close your eyes, it'll happen real fast

I just got you off with a fingerblast…”.Before you could hear more the door of the truck shut loudly. The sudden noise almost startling you.

Shaking your head you tried to compose yourself after overhearing what must have been a most charming song. You took a step forward, hell bent on pretending you hadn’t heard anything. Only now you’d noticed the mammoth of a man that had existed the truck.

Chiding yourself on how you hadn’t noticed him before.

You wrote it off as shock, because how else could you not have noticed the biggest fricking man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Said man raised his left hand in greeting, while pushing his sunglasses up on his shaved head with the other. He wore a red T-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. Realizing you stared way too long at the handsome stranger without reciprocating his greeting, you quickly waved back; albeit a bit too late, as he had already turned his back to you.

Fortunately for you, he took his sweet time getting to his toolbox or whatever. Giving you the perfect opportunity to stare some more and that you did.

Good god, how did his shirt not rip when he moved? All that muscle had you salivating.

As he turned towards you, with his toolbox in hand, you couldn’t help but notice the ominous bulge in his shorts.

And then one thought lead to another, having you think about, how something entirely different would most certainly rip, upon his movement. That image had you clenching and swallowing thickly.

“Hey, I take it, you’re hav’n problems with your AC?” he drawled in a rough southern accent. You didn’t trust your voice, lest only a squeak would leave you, so you shook your head yes.

“Alright then, may I come ‘n?” He continued, an amused expression on his face, after you didn’t make a move to let him past you or into your house.

Finally you found your voice again, “Mmh yes, please do come…in,” you finished awkwardly, wanting to hit yourself for behaving like a middle schooler with a major crush.

It didn’t seem to bother him though, he simply chuckled deeply and entered your living room. As he walked by, you caught a whiff of his colon along with what must be his own natural musk, making you swoon on the spot. Damn it, he even smelled fucking fantastic.

From inside he called, “The name ‘s Syverson by the way, if you were wonderin’. But everyone calls me Sy anyway.”

Taking a second to draw a deep breath to calm your nerves and more accurately calm your ovaries, you headed in, after him.

He was standing in the middle of your living room, toolbox standing on your little coffee table, taking in your interior. Shaking your head, as if you could rid yourself of any indecent thoughts, you studied him once more.

Sy was big in every way possible, from his height, to his built and presence. Easily taking over your normally at least middle sized living room, making it seem shrunken.

This time you were a little bit more prepared when his sparkling blue eyes landed on you. Smiling you replied, “I’m y/n. Thank you for being here so quickly. The AC is right over there.” With a wave of your hand, you gestured in the direction of your adjacent kitchen, where the damned thing was let into the wall. He picked up the toolbox once more, before he followed closely behind.

As you lead the way into the kitchen, you could feel him staring at you hungrily, making you shiver from anticipation alone.

Sy swallowed thickly as the white dress you wore, showed even more of your pretty legs, with every bouncy step you took. Once in the kitchen you pointed up, at the opened AC. “I don’t know what seems to be the problem, normally if I do this…” you tried reaching the green button, even going as far as getting on your tiptoes, to show him, what normally did the trick.

As if hypnotized, he kept staring at the hem of your dress continuing to ride up, now almost getting a glimpse of your perfectly white panties. Fuck it, he thought as he drew impossibly closer, putting the toolbox on the kitchen counter in one swift movement.

You squeaked in response, when you felt his broad chest collide with your back. Before you could lose your balance, a beefy arm pulled you back by your midsection and against his sturdy body. A hot breath tickled your ear as he growled, “Darlin’ that dress of yours, might be a tad short for what you had in mind.”

His deep, lust filled voice made you reckless so you purred right back,” Mmmh I think it’s quite perfect for what I had in mind, no?” To emphasize your point, you pushed your rear purposefully against his groin, making him growl some more. “Careful there sweetheart, once the beast is awakened, it got a hankering…and…for one thing only.” You could undoubtedly hear his cocky grin. So you playfully replied, “Oh no, we certainly don’t want that now, do we? You know what they say, about sleeping dogs …”

Following your teasing you grabbed his arm and swiftly pulled it away to be able to slip from his grasp. Striding over to the door, making sure to sway your hips, all the while stifling your giggles. When you turned around, lightly leaning against the doorway, Sy still stood unmoving, glaring at you with dilated pupils. He was sure he’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted to have you.

One more push and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. You bit the insides of your cheeks, trying to conceal the gleeful smile forming on your lips. Deliberately slow you blinked up at him, readying yourself for what you were about to do next, “Catch me if you can…” You didn’t wait for his reaction, you just bolted through the doorway and straight up the stairs.

PART 2

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Taglist:

If you're interested in being on my taglist, please let me know! And if you want to be taken off (my taglist), feel free to tell me!❤️✨

[astrialuvs]

Headcanons for Akabane Karma as Himself | as a Friend | as a Lover

➻ PAIRING : akabane karma x reader

➻ CONTENT WARNING : my headcanons to these red-haired boy 😗🫶 pt. 2

➻ WORD COUNT : 1119 words

a/n: i'm sorry for the late upload (hehe). idrk when will i post the last..

another a/n: i might uplaod my hcs for gakushuu too (idk when)  😅

He boinks a book at you when he notices you dozing off, even though you invited him for a review at the library.

It was expected that his presence at a study session you had organized would boost your motivation to review more. However, the sheer boredom of you—the library and staleness, with lamps flickering in—created by such a dull background was working against you. However, as you focused on your notes, fatigue set in, and your eyelids began to droop.

On the other side of the table, Karma was partially immersed in his world, playing video games on his phone. He watched you fight against the advancing wave of sleep without your knowledge. His mind, however, was unconventional and quick to find new approaches even in silence, so he selected some method of making you stay awake.

Karma smiled slyly as he picked up a nearby book and figured out its direction before throwing it at you. The book hit softly against your head with a ‘boink.’ The shock hit you suddenly, and you glared at him aggressively.

"Karma, really?" you cried out, massaging the area of your head where the book hit.

He stared at you innocently, as if amazed. He quipped, "Hey! You were drifting off. Just doing my part to keep you alert and focused." His reply made you scoffed.

The unexpected wake-up call worked. The interruption caused by Karma had effectively broken down your sleepiness, which was looming large over you. Even if his approach was a little absurd, your lips curled slightly as you realized that, despite the circumstances, Karma had managed to maintain punctuality and spontaneous stimulation throughout the study.

Who's your rival in academics, sports, or video games, but expect a healthy dose of rivalry.

Under the dim light of Karma's gaming console screen, you and Karma were fighting in a video game. The room was alive with the rhythm of powerful blasts from controllers and the overdrive sound of your playful outcasts.

When the unreal battle appeared on screen, Karma couldn't help but smile knowingly. He teased, "Are you prepared to go down this round?" He touched the control with his fingers.

You countered with a confident smile. "I suppose we will find out. I hope you've been reviewing what you've learned, Karma."

The taunting was competitive, with each of you attempting to manipulate and navigate around the other in the video game. Laughter and occasional shouts of victory or defeat filled the room.

Despite intense competition, you and Karma maintained a tacit understanding. Each of you was respectful of the other's gaming abilities, which elevated the game beyond mere contention. Each action received either a respectful agreement or a quick-witted look, as if to emphasize the importance of jest in this competitive environment where fun was the ultimate goal.

Throughout the game, however, Karma managed to gain a foothold on you in a spectacular manner. He declared triumphantly, "Guess I won this time."

"Very good Karma. But the night is just beginning, and you still have a long way to go towards victory."

Whom you two have your own language and gestures, such as all-knowing smirks and eye signals.

You and Karma were always caught in an unusual act of communication while inside a gathering. A conversation, laughter, and the clinking of glasses filled the room, but the two of you conversed silently.

At that point, a mutual wink or fugitive eye signal was sufficient, as was your own secret code that went beyond written language. Those who were preoccupied with other people's conversations were unaware of the silent little communicative move that occurred between you and Karma, during which a sense of trust and unity developed.

Karma suddenly poured an all-knowing smirk on your face as you two shared that moment when nothing was said and no words were required. This was a language born out of shared experiences, inside jokes, and an unwritten oath that would grow stronger over time.

Whether it was a response to the ongoing conversation, a lighthearted joke, or simply two people having fun together, the smiles and eye movements were enough. It became a testament to your friendship, like a secret code known only to the two of you.

Who flicks your forehead at very random moments, whether at a serious moment, when you are spaced out, or eating.

Sitting in the library among rows of textbooks, which you shared with Karma during serious discussions about upcoming exams. He raised his brow with a mischievous look in his eyes, taking advantage of the opportunity while you were deep in conversation with him.

He suddenly warned you, "Watch out!" before flicking your forehead in an unexpected but friendly gesture.

You blinked in surprise and laughed. "Karma? Come on. I'm trying to concentrate here!"

"Absolutely! Distraction helps keep the mind alert and focused.

* * *

The following week, during a quiet moment in the school courtyard, Karma appeared beside you.

He quipped jokingly, "More deep thinking?" and hit you again on the forehead to emphasize his point.

You smiled childishly and shot at him. "Am I not allowed to get away from your forehead flicks?"

"What's the big deal about that?" he inquired, an enticing smile forming in his eyes.

* * *

With a flick, Karma took advantage of even the most casual lunch you two had together in your school cafeteria, for example, when you were about to bite on your sandwich.

"Karma!" You cried, partly laughing and partly protesting.

"Can't get away from that, it turns normal circumstances into extraordinary ones!"

As a result, Karma's forehead flicks have become an integral part of your daily conversations. These playful actions, whether trying to be serious or comical in nature, made your friendship have good moments between laughs and joy as if knitted on quicksilver.

Whom you share your "teas" and gossips with.

You and Karma were seated in a quiet nook of the local cafe, enjoying gentle conversation while smelling freshly brewed coffee and hearing distant murmurs. In that safe space, the "teas" and gossip flowed freely like threads woven for people's sheer amusement and trust.

How remarkable was it that, facing each other, you leaned forward, eager to share current events, even if they were scandalous. Karma began this exchange with a wink of the eye and in secret, initially sublimating it into a joke.

"All right, it's tea time. What is the most juicy detail about the incriminating rumor you have?"

As a result, the conversation became filled with laughter and animated faces. You would occasionally make comical observations about your classmates, teachers, and other characters in your lives.The teas shared were an entertaining mix of witty retorts, secrets offered and whispered, and bantered conspiracies.

[good-beanswrites]

"Becomes more competitive" you say? - refering to your headcanons with downbad fuuta 👀

For someone I can imagine if his partner is someone that's a little flirty and knows this, they might initiate a few scenarios just to fluster and see what he tries next only for him to combust (although there might be a few rare occasions where he does get soft)

YES !!

Fuuta is constantly fueled by a mix of personal pride and the need to Be The Best at whatever’s going on, the societal expectation to be manly and good at wooing someone, and also the feeling of “WOW it turns out I’ve never had a real friend or connection in my life and now that I have someone with genuine mutual love between us I’m going to go a little crazy about it and do things way out of my comfort zone without thinking twice until it’s too late.” He’ll leap into a variety of situations – doing favors, participating in couples’ activities, flirting, and making advances of physical touch – solely focused on Winning, only to realize too late that he’s gotten himself into a romantic/intimate situation he wasn’t prepared for 😅

I especially love the thought of someone who knows this well, and plays a little game of “how long can I string this along until his competitiveness gives out into embarrassment?” 

They’d get used to dropping hints while doing different activities about how talented they are doing it, maybe even the best, and no one could do this any better – so that Fuuta inevitably joins in to prove them wrong. If they’re already in an established relationship, I think his partner could overcome any of his party pooping by suggesting they show up the other couples in whatever “cheesy” thing they’re doing. (The partner eventually learns to be a bit more careful with this power, though. As well as things usually end, there have been some mishaps when Fuuta decides “it can’t be that hard to do dancing lifts/dips, right?”) There are a few situations that he catches himself in and explodes that he was tricked into it, but there are others that surprise his crush by how readily he pours his effort into the activity.

Fuuta would be extremely hesitant to initiate physical touch out of fear of overstepping (some of it is healthy respect/consent, and some of it is overthinking paranoia) so it’s up to a more confident crush to push his boundaries. Starting as simple as taps to get attention, and building up even to something like holding hands, they figure out what kinds of things make this touchstarved idiot bluescreen, what turns him bright red, and what he’ll actually melt into and return. The minute they start the whole process, though, it unlocks something in his mind: he realizes that there's no need to fear physical advances, and in fact, he can be the one causing the bluescreening. There's a 50/50 whether his smug attempts at being touchy will backfire and leave him more frazzled in the end 😅

He's never once shied away from a verbal battle, and flirting is no different. He may not have a lot of quick wit, but he can certainly hold his ground in back-and-forth that involves some romantic undertones and teasing. He’d be accustomed to some pretty crass gaming lobbies, so I imagine he doesn’t mind dishing out dirty jokes and innuendos in an attempt to fluster his crush. However, it’s way easier to dish it out than to take it – it doesn’t take long for his crush’s forward comments to absolutely break him down and leave him sputtering. Though he loses all battles like that, there are moments when he's sure they have complete privacy that he ventures some vulnerable compliments that can actually leave the other speechless. That is, until he immediately backtracks in an attempt to save face...

[jazzyquarterblugs]

𝐏𝐏𝐓𝐉: 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

Time to show ya'll the Altercanons for The Smiling Critters!! :D

(I have already looong posted them on my twitter but again for the Tumblr peeps I will post them here! :3)

From Oldest to Youngest!

Enjoy!

Bubba Bubbaphant!

The smart and probably the most mentally stable one out of the bunch (more on that later-) being the oldest isn't really easy when you've got 7 younger friends most of which love to go on rowdy fun adventures, nonetheless he is always with them every step of the way whenever he can! (Mostly because he needs to keep them from accidentally getting themselves killed 💀)

His Talent

Bubba is capable of creating balls of light and is able to change the intesity of light sources around him, in combat he can create lightbulb shaped items and throw them at to flashbang opponents, disorienting them and giving him the advantage, though this uses up his own energy and so he needs to think carefully about how many he creates, or else he will likely pass out.

KickinChicken!

The self-proclaimed cool guy of the critters. An daredevil who's always put looking for ways to have a lil fun, all the while making Bubba slowly lose his patience 😅 even though he may come off as an arrogant jerk to others, Kickin actually cares a lot about his friends and others more than he likes to admit! Just don't get on his nerves or he will make your life a living hell whenever given the chance!

His Talent

He can whip out three items of his choosing, whether it'd be a simple screwdriver or a flat out atomic bomb, all of which seem to follow a common theme 💀 though he is only lmited to three wishes and after using them all up he'd have to wait for an one hour cooldown before he can create more items again.

CatNap!

Not a very talkative critter, neither is he really stable in ANY WAY to begin with, he went suddenly missing once for 3 whole weeks and came back never the same, for 9 whole months has he never ate, drank or even slept, and it's only a matter of time before one day he finally collapses in on himself...

His...Talent???...

He is able create sleep-inducing red smoke, making whoever is nearby inhale it and fall into a Deep Sleep... (it doesn't kill them dn)

DogDay!

The leader of The Smiling Critters! And CatNap's best friend! This lovely sunshine is always ready for an adventure and bring a smile to everyone's faces no matter who they are! He is always standing up for what's right, willing to put his friends before himself.

His Talent?

His body glows a range of red to yellow whenever experiencing intense emotions, the hue and the temperature of his body depending on how intense the feeling is, if it is too intense his body is capable of burning the skin off of anybody who attempts to touch him.

PickyPiggy!

The nature-loving and diet obsessed one of the group, she absolutely loves the wonders of mother nature, even owning an vegetable garden herself! She loves to eat but always makes sure she stays healthy when doing so! Though sometimes she is so entranced by eating food that she often forgets to keep up with the others and finds herself confused, she always feels like she has an reputation to uphold considering her father is a well-known cook in Critterville, to make things even less easy she has 12 younger brothers to take care of!

Her Talent

She is able to take and storage items within an infinite pocket dimension like a personal inventory in her pockets, though she needs to have actualy pockets for this to work, luckily she knows how to sew!

Hoppy Hopscotch!

The physically active one of the group! And DogDay's beloved little sister! This rambunctious lil rabbit is willing to take on a challenge if it means having fun! Though she is really accident prone so she often gets herself hurt! (Pretty frequently actually-) but even so she doesn't know how to back down! While impatient and loud, she is happy to protect her friends from danger!

CraftyCorn!

The shy and soft-spoken one! She's pretty timid but has an incredible creative side to her! She loves to create all kinds of art but most specifically loves to draw! Even though she may not have had the best first start of her life, but after moving into Bubba's home and becoming part of The Smiling Critters, she realizes she feels right at home.

Her Talent

She is able to mend and shape paint however and whatever she wants it to be! Whether it is colorful wings of freedom or another way to paint, she needs to have paint at her disposal though.

She is also capable of magic of her own! But due to her previous living conditions she was never able to tap into her gift and discover the wonders of unicorn magic all that much, though luckily Bubba has enrolled her to equestrian classes to help her with that problem! <)

Bobby Bearhug!

The sweetest and youngest one out of the group! She was found alone outside near the Critters' treehouse, ever since then Bubba has taken her under his wing and has been taking care of her since, it is unknown what happened to her parents it has been assumed that they had just abandoned her.

Her Talent

She is able to sense the true intentions of a person's heart, helping her know who is worthy of trust or not, she is also able to sense the emotions of an individual though this can be physically and even mentally exhausting, making her needing to take frequent naps to gain her energy back.

Aaaand that is all I have for today!

I hoped you enjoy these Altercanons and if you have any questions regarding them or this AU feel free to ask in my ask box! :3

(repeat users are okay btw!)

[papidiaz]

Part 4

24/06/16 He said, Ella dijo podcast. (I'm so sorry about the thumbnail YouTube choose for the video 🙈 YouTube said 😬)

Such a wonderful interview, here Ryan talks about parenthood, his martial arts training since he was a child, his modeling career and start as an actor, how dancing was easy to him due his upbringing as Mexican-American because there were many parties to attend Ryan also said that fighting and dancing are very similar. He opened up about his struggles with mental health and past suicide attempt then he talked about his new movie "the present".

Full transcript.

24/06/18 Interview for KTLA (Ryan talks about parenthood, his movie and mentions buddie unprompted 🙂‍↕️)

Gif from ayo-edebiri

Clip of Ryan talking about buddie. Whole interview.

24/06/18 Interview for CBS news, Ryan talks about "the present"

24/06/18 The Jess Cagle Show

Here Ryan talks about "the present" and how he took the role in the movie because the plot of " kids trying to keep their parents together" resonated with him. He talks about parenthood and his 2 children and how one of his kids thought he was a real firefighter because they saw an episode of 911. He talks about 911 and what happened to Eddie in the season finale and how Eddie has lost all foundation and footing and the new season will be about Eddie starting on a new landscape and what this new landscape will offer to him. He is making sure he is super fit to play Eddie, he believes Eddie will be working out more as a coping mechanism. He talked about the boy next door and working with JLO and how he didn't really call himself an actor until 3 years ago. Kenneth helped him to understand he had to put in the works to be an actor, to study and take acting seriously. When his last fight as a MMA fighter didn't end up being what he wanted he left Sacramento to pursue a modeling career in LA where he had to share a small apartment with five more guys. He then started acting because he was very competitive (he was like "if my roommates want to try acting so can I" 🫡).

24/06/21 Ryan with Mario López

He talks about his movie "the present", Ryan also talked about how Eddie lost his kid and had to say goodbye to his late wife for the billion time (😅) so in season 8 Eddie will be finding himself all over again in a new landscape and he thinks Eddie will want to escape somewhere, he finding a healthy or unhealthy coping mechanism is yet to be seen.

Ryan also talked about his art and how art to him is more like story telling. Ryan said he is doing mostly boxing training right now and at the end he talked about his children and trying to get his kids into sports.

24/06/21 Oliver's interview for men's health *

Oliver was on a road trip, during his interview he talked about mental health and how when he's not doing well he tends to withdraw, how he struggled with making friends and how during his trip he met a lot of great people thanks to his dogs ❤️. Oliver talked about acting, how it was difficult for him when a previous girlfriend had more auditions than him back then and how he's really grateful for the opportunity to work on 911. Oliver also talked about the complications due the use of social media, where you don't always find positive things.

He talked about Buck's coming out arc, he's really honored of getting to play a bi character. He also talked about how curating his online experience is very important to him, mentioned having another twitter account that was mostly about sports, he has previously found people sharing negative opinions about him and that's why he refrains from looking about things about himself online. He also talks about how much he loves nature.

24/06/23 Whine down with Jana Kramer The boy next door with Ryan Guzmán 

He talked about how he started acting, he hated modeling. He got into debt thanks to the modelig agencies. What he likes about acting is that acting connects with the human side of things. Ryan also talked about his art and his experience while working with JLO, he talked about "the present" also mentioned he is currently a single father and why he keeps his children out the public eye and how much he misses them when they are not with him. He's not looking for someone to date right now.

24/06/26 Ryan being interviewed for people en Español

Ryan talked about the challenges of playing Eddie and mentioned the parallels between him and Eddie. He talked about his role in "the present" and his costars. Ryan also talked about the Latino community, and the need of more than stereotypical representation and diversity in media he talked about being Latino actor while playing a character and how when he's off set he's still a Latino person even if most of the time people will think he's white 💔

[momventuresinparenting]

UPDATE: Trying, Learning What I Believe + Parents Visited

Hey, fellow parents... thank you again for all the advice 😍! You were all so helpful! I'm updating you all on my situation, in the hopes that parents, and especially those who are caught between how they were raised and trying to raise their kids differently, are able to gain insight from this as well.

At least for me, it's hard to balance my upbringing in an Asian household to my life now with trying to raise a family in America while surrounded by different norms from what I was used to. Growing up, my teachers and parents taught me that discipline was a 'tough-love' way of developing good habits and beliefs in a child.

But looking back, although it managed to elicit immediate compliance and action from me, it was for the wrong reasons. I would study to do well on an exam not because I valued learning, but because I feared the consequences of not getting a good grade.

With all that in mind, we made the call to not use physical discipline on our children. So... 😥 when my parents flew in from Taiwan, they voiced being unsure about the how we parent. When my son Julian was rude during dinner, instead of using physical violence, we took away all his electronics. My mother criticized this, saying that my attempts at "fitting in with the idea of a modern parent" came at the cost of my child's upbringing. But here's the thing. Now that I know more because of you guys, I just can't agree with her. 😟 1. I now know that physical punishment will actually does the opposite of what it's intended to fix: it worsens disruptive behavior and aggression, so resorting to physical punishment would likely have only worsened his attitude. (See Janet's comment for evidence backing this!) 2. I also know that long-term, it has harmful emotional, social, and psychological effects on a child's health: The American Academy of Pediatrics warns that it comes with consequences such as depression, anxiety, poor self-esteem, and debilitating stress. Even if taking away Julian's electronics might not seem to 'fix' the issue, we prioritized Julian's health. 💗 3. It can promote future violence: I was doing research about this, and in Jennifer Lansford's Parenting Across Cultures, she outlines that use of aggression in parent-child relationships or relationships with authority figures is a predictor for future likelihood of turning to, or normalizing, aggression with romantic, familial, and social relationships. I don't just want my children to be academically successful -it's just as important that they have the ability to build stable, healthy relationships in the future without me.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that just because something is traditional, that doesn’t make it right. Corporal punishment may have been accepted and normalized in my childhood, and certainly has it's roots in Confucian cultural practices of parent-child obedience, but I can’t justify it anymore.💔 Another thing I can't agree on? 'Traditional parent, modern parent'... there's no such thing! 😅😅 Parenting doesn't fall neatly into two categories -- I'm a living example. Has anyone else experienced this kind of cultural divide? 😓 Let me know.

I love my parents… but that doesn't mean I need to raise my children like them. Maybe my job now is to change this cycle — not just of how we discipline, but of what we define as success. I just don't see potential merits of physical discipline outweighing the consequences.

While my kids might not be perfectly behaved 😂, I think it's more important that I let them grow up both physically AND mentally healthy. That’s what'll ultimately be the best for them. ❤️

[cool-thymus]

🪴 What does your dream writing/creative studio look like?

and

💪 What does your real daily creative routine look like? Morning, afternoon, or night?

and

😴 What do you do when you need a break? How do you personally rest and reset your creative mind?

Hi Mable! thank u for this lovely ask game btw! i like all the emoji choices 😄 So...

🪴 What does your dream writing/creative studio look like?

Soundproof! It must be soundproof bc all the random noises one can hear in an apartment block trigger my safety alert mode and throw me off my game 😅 I would also agree to a couple of ANBU positioned at the entrance to guard my peace - and I'm only half kidding! So it must be a concern free area, preferably a cozy kitchen with a big table and low lights ^^ Somehow, creating in a space designed for another activity boosts my inspiration xD

💪 What does your real daily creative routine look like? Morning, afternoon, or night?

My perfect creating conditions: kitchen, late evening (past 11 pm), all the people in the world are sound asleep, a peach candle, nice playlist or the sounds of rain/park... BUT in reality this combo is hardly ever possible 🥲 The apartment i currently live in has a very uninspiring kitchen; my attempts at a healthy lifestyle require going to bed earlier, or my brain is simply fried by the end of the day, and i'm not capable of producing anything worthwhile. So these days i carve out a free evening around the weekend, here and there, and write or draw in The Chair on my balcony :3 Not bad either i guess ☺️

😴 What do you do when you need a break? How do you personally rest and reset your creative mind?

What a relevant question 😅Literally yesterday i suddenly realized i needed to review my schedule to allow myself more free time and finally breathe out 😮‍💨I'm one of those people who tend to fill every minute with some activity, you know:

😆😆😆again, i'm only half kidding hehe. My plan is to make little changes to my routine:

take a break from one regular activity (sorry, gym, but i need those 5 hours a week that you take away from me + money saving!)

do my grocery shopping in different stores to go on more evening walks (brain enjoys small changes + it needs some rest from the constant stimulation to perform deep thinking, connect ideas, etc.)

spend more time in public places ('people watching' can be curious and inspiring 😄i'm enjoying having coffee in cafes now, so some daily tasks can be done there instead of at my desk)

enjoy the summer 🌞🌻🍓(eat strawberries and ice-cream, organize a trip to the beach, play badminton, read outside, explore the parts of the town i've never been to etc.)

So basically it's all about taking some pressure off and diversifying daily experiences ✨😊And mb allowing yourself to just stare outside the window for an hour (okay at least 20 minutes) and not feel guilty for wasting those precious minutes. Get rid of the "I could've been doing that" thinking and accept stillness/boredom.

(I'm holding hands with Efficiency and Discipline, looking them in the eyes and say "I love you guys, you know i do, but can you please, for a short while, play together without me?)

Thank u for the questions! the last one was pretty necessary to address! 💛

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 26**

So much happening in this chapter so it's a long one! And a happy chapter! Again, this is a series of scenes I've had in my head since the beginning, the events that take place as they finally make it to New York and I had a lot of fun planning them and finally writing them.

Series Master List

Warnings have their own post, please heed them if needed

Word count: 14k (you'll either hate that or love it 😅)

Morrow, the raider, turns out to be a decent guide. Either that, or the thinly veiled threats Pope hisses at him as he tugs on the man’s rope keeps him perpetually terrified enough to not try anything. He leads you all on back roads that avoid towns and main routes, and the closer you get to New York, the more confident he gets as he takes you into buildings, skirting around hordes of infected. It’s clear that this is territory he’s crossed many times as a smuggler, just as Frankie and Pope had around Arlington. 

It takes almost three days of walking to reach Hoboken, the broken New York skyline slowly getting closer. You only realize you’ve reached the city when you see a shattered sign that reads Hoboken Beer & Soda Outlet, hanging off a bombed out building. 

“You’ve done good, Morrow,” Pope says to the young man, as you all catch a glimpse of the Hudson River between demolished buildings. 

“Thanks,” he replies, less nervous now than when he first started out. He’s still restrained but as he continued to lead you safely through the devastated urban landscape of New Jersey, the guys became less hard on him, sharing rations and making sure he was at least as comfortable as the rest of you at night. You thought it showed some humanity on the guys part but Frankie shook his head when you brought it up, out of earshot of Morrow. 

“We treat him well so that he feels less inclined to fuck us. If we treat him fair he’ll think we’ll let him go without harm once we don’t need him anymore and that makes him want to make sure we’re happy with how he aids us.” 

“But you’re not gonna let him go?” you ask, glancing over at Morrow where he and Pope are discussing the best way forward towards Sinatra Park. 

Frankie shrugs, “We’ll let him go, but we’ll probably hand him over to FEDRA once we get to the intake area.” 

Morrow had told you about the FEDRA intake area located at Sinatra Park in Hoboken. It was a small temp QZ where people were scanned, assessed and then allowed to take a boat across to the main Manhattan QZ if they passed. According to Morrow, most people were admitted as long as they were healthy. The QZ needed people to rebuild the city, the hope was to bring back some sort of normalcy inside the walls. He’d said there was even talk of a vaccine research facility, FEDRA attempting to locate and bring in any surviving vaccine researchers from across the country. It sounded hopeful but like most people, you were jaded at this point. You’d settle for a safe QZ devoid of fascist tendencies, decent food and an apartment where Frankie could make good on his promises about where he wanted to spend his time. 

“C’mere, guys,” Pope waves Benny, Frankie and you over to where he’s been talking to Morrow. He points to a building about a block away, it’s been bombed and is tilting precariously to the right. “The plan was to go through that building, that’s the way they’ve been coming, the boat they use to sneak across the Hudson is moored on the other side. But, look at that,” he points to the first floor corner, bright orange and red tendrils visible through a broken window. “Morrow says those are new.” 

“Fuck,” you hear Benny hiss behind you, and you mirror his sentiments. The bright red and orange hues means fresh cordyceps growth. Someone in the building has been infected, died and now the fungal growth is creeping out from their body, seeking out new ways to spread itself. Step on it and any infected within several miles will feel it and come running, the large underground mycelium network working to alert every part of a potential threat or victim. 

“So we’re not going through there,” Frankie says and Pope nods. 

“No, clearly not. The only other option is the building next door,” he indicates a large red brick building on the other side of a partially destroyed street. The building looks unharmed and the large glass door to the ground floor coffee shop stands open. “But that building hasn’t been cleared by anyone in a long time according to Morrow, it’s even possible whoever is responsible for the new cordyceps growth came from it.” 

“So potentially a nice little horde of infected?” Benny sighs, pulling off his cap to run his hand through his hair and shoving it down again, backwards as usual. 

“Probably not a horde, we would’ve seen more growth coming out of the building and I see none, but yeah,” Pope shrugs and looks back at the three of you, “definitely potentially infected inside.” 

You take a deep breath and look over at Frankie, he’s looking at his boots, adjusting the leg holster on his thigh and he feels your eyes on him, looking up to meet them. You don’t even have to say anything, he takes a step closer, his hand finding yours, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance. 

“Are there any options of going around, Morrow?” he asks the young man standing next to Pope. 

“I don’t know how far we’d have to back track, the main path to Sinatra Park used to be a few miles back and further north but FEDRA blew up those buildings about a year ago because it got swamped by a horde.” 

“So we either face this potentially infected building, or we backtrack and definitely have to deal with more infected,” Frankie looks over at Pope and Benny. “We’re pushing our luck the longer we stay out here, traveling through this kind of area I mean, we’ve already been out here three days.” 

“Yeah, I agree,” Benny says, “we go slow, be careful, and go through this building, dealing with anything we find. It’s better than going into unknown territory.” 

“Ok,” Pope nods, “we go through here then, everybody ready up.” 

“What about me?” Morrow asks, his voice worried, “I don’t wanna go through there with my hands tied.” 

Pope looks over at the three of you and you nod without thinking, letting him into the building with his hands tied would be cruel, and where is he going to run to now? Benny and Frankie seem to agree and Pope cuts the cable tie that’s around Morrow’s wrists. 

“Do I get a weapon?” he asks and Pope scoffs. 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

Pope takes the lead, Morrow behind him with Benny taking up the rear as you all as silently as possible enter the building through the open doors. Inside the entrance you get a better look at the busted coffee shop, looted of anything useful years ago it seems. Tables and chairs are scattered across the interior, broken mugs on the floor, but thankfully no sign of fungal growth. Pope glances back and signals for you all to move towards the back door of the coffee shop, you can see it hanging half open next to the Please dispose of your trash here sign on the back wall. 

You hold your breath, gun in hand and pointed towards the floor, as Pope puts his shoulder to the door and carefully pushes it open. The hinges protest slightly, a low squeak making you all freeze and listen intently. When nothing stirs, Pope slides off his backpack and slips through the opening. One by one you do the same and follow him through. Behind the door is a hallway, lined with cardboard boxes filled with supplies for the coffee shop and knocked over trash bags that makes the place reek of years old fermented coffee grinds and rat droppings. You pull the top of your sweater over your mouth and nose, wrinkling your face at the stench. 

Pope spots a sturdy looking door at the end of the hallway, it looks like it leads to the outside and you pray for it to be that easy. But of course it’s not, as you get closer you see Pope mouth a silent Fuck, there’s no door handle on the door and it’s locked tight, he gives it an experimental shove. Turning back he motions down a hallway that runs along the outside wall, at the end of it is what looks like an internal fire escape staircase. Pope makes a couple of hand signals, and you all nod, up the stairs, try to find a way out and down to ground level again. 

Pope and Morrow silently climb the stairs, Frankie and you following close behind. At the top is another door, leading into a hallway with doors on one side and three windows lining the opposite wall. Holding up the door, Morrow lets you all through it before he silently lets it slip shut, only the faintest click as the lock catches. But it’s enough to elicit a noise that you know too well.

The second you hear it, everyone freezes in their tracks, the tell tale sound of a clicker somewhere nearby, the screeching like inhumane fingernails over a chalkboard. You bite back a whimper, briefly closing your eyes as Frankie’s hand shoots out and grabs yours. 

Everybody knows the drill, spreading out and silently finding cover out of sight. The clickers’ echo location, their screeching, works in the same way as a bats. Even if they can’t see you, when they screech towards you, the sound will bounce off your body and tell the clicker exactly where you are. Staying hidden and silent is the only way to escape them. They can be killed by a gunshot to the head, but that noise will attract any other infected in the building. The best, but very dangerous, way to kill them, is to sneak up behind them and stab them in the head, hoping they don’t suddenly turn and hear you. Killing them straight on is almost impossible, the infection giving them inhuman strength. 

The space upstairs seems to be made up of a number of small apartments, the doors to them all open, four in total down the length of the hallway. There’s no shelter in the hallway and you all shuffle into the nearest apartment. Pope signals window back to Benny and Frankie and they nod.

“How?” you mouth to them. How will you all sneak out into the hallway, open a window and climb out without alerting the clicker? It seems impossible. Pope opens his mouth to whisper a reply when you hear feet dragging across the hallway and the tell tale sound of the clicker’s screech. 

You move immediately, as quietly as possible you all sneak further into the small apartment, Frankie pulls you down behind the kitchen counter in one corner, Pope and Morrow duck behind the couch on the other side of the apartment door. 

You turn around and glance towards the door and your stomach drops as you see Benny. His back is pressed against the wall and you realize what he’s about to try. His hunting knife is in his hand and he’s poised, ready to strike as the clicker staggers into the opening of the door, stopping and screeching loudly into the room. The grotesque creature, fungal growth erupting from down the middle of its head, obscuring almost all human features, lurches into the room. Benny makes his moves, the knife makes a sickening crunch as it connects with the clicker but it jerks out of the way and his hand slips, the knife sinking into the neck instead of the temple. Instantly the clicker wrenches itself away from Benny who struggles to get the knife out of its neck. You see Pope rush forward, the clicker screeching, the sound being answered by another screech somewhere in the building. Benny’s knife is still lodged in the clickers neck, Benny’s got one hand on the handle, another around the clickers neck, desperately trying to keep the snapping jaws away from himself. Pope skids around the clicker, his own knife drawn, avoiding the creature's flailing arms, and sinks it down to the handle into the soft tissue of the temple. The clicker screeches again, going limp under Benny’s grip and Pope wrenches his knife out and jabs it in again, twisting it deep in the fungal growth that’s taken over inside the skull. 

Another screech goes up just outside the apartment door and you yell a warning to Pope, he’s just by the door, struggling to wrench his knife out again. The second clicker slams into him and Benny scrambles to shove the body of the first one out of the way, reaching out to stop the infected from sinking into Pope’s neck. Frankie rushes forward, pushing past you as Morrow bolts from behind the couch, heading for the front door, ducking around Pope as Pope gets his arm up under the creature's neck. 

Benny grabs onto what’s left of the clickers jacket and it staggers back, slamming into Morrow who tumbles with a yelp as the clicker rips itself from Benny’s grip and snarls. It’s a tangle of limbs, the clickers wide open mouth, tendrils waving from its maw, Pope kicks frantically on the floor as Morrow’s arm hits him over the head. Morrow fights to get back on his feet, the clicker scrabbling to latch onto any living thing. It takes only seconds, but you feel like you’re watching in slow motion when Frankie reaches the clicker, gun in hand, and fires directly into its temple. 

Both Pope and Benny stumble back, shoving the clicker away, on top of the first one. Morrow sinks down against the door, breathing heavy as Benny drags Pope to his feet. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you ok, Santi?” Benny yells, searching any of his friend’s visible skin. Frankie rushes forward too, pulling back Pope’s collar to check. Pope breathes heavily, running hands over his throat, his chest, wrists and finally ankles and legs. 

“I’m good,” he exhales before drawing a long breath in, “You?” he asks Benny who nods. 

“Yeah, they never got close enough.” 

“Guys…” you say, and they turn to you. You’ve crossed the small apartment and you’re looking down at Morrow. He’s silently staring at the back of his hand, blood and teeth marks clearly visible, his hand is shaking as he lets a sob escape, turning to look at the four of you. 

“Fuck,” Pope exhales, the four of you are frozen in front Morrow, his fate sealed. He looks up at you all with fear in his eyes. 

“Please, kill me,” he sobs, “please.” 

Frankie reluctantly raises his gun, aiming at the young man's head, but you quickly put your hand on his arm, “Wait;” you say, “Is there anyone in New York you want us to give a message to, someone who should know?” 

Morrow gasps for air, sobs threatening to take over as he shakes his head, “Just tell the captain I’m sorry I fucked up.” 

“Your FEDRA captain?” you ask. 

“No, The Captain, he’s my boss, and my friend I guess, he’ll find you once you’re inside, just tell him I’m sorry.” 

“Ok, we’ll tell him, don’t worry, Morrow.” Frankie glances over at you for confirmation that he can carry on, and you look at Morrow who nods, closing his eyes. The gunshot is painfully loud in the small room and it makes you wince, the young man slumps over against the wall, his eyes still closed. 

The irony of it is that it doesn’t take you long to get to Sinatra Park once Benny’s forced open a window and you’ve all scrambled down the side of the building. A few short, easy blocks, and then you’re standing again in front of FEDRA soldiers with guns trained on the four of you. Morrow was so close to making it.

You’re quickly scanned, all of you negative, and let into the small temporary QZ area. So quick and easy, you almost feel guilty. Morrow had led you safely through the urban hellscape that was New Jersey, and then, at the last moment, he’d fallen. 

“He was trying to run,” Frankie says, to make you feel less guilty but even if that was right, who were you to blame him? The clicker went for Pope and you’d been frozen, Frankie had saved him while you remained frozen to the floor. 

“We all have our strengths and weaknesses, cariño,” his thumb running over your cheek as he cups your face, “your job is not to take down clickers. Your job is to be mine, let me be yours, keep me sane, grounded, give me purpose.” He’s leaned his forehead against yours as you blink back guilty tears. 

“But what if it’d been you, and I was frozen while you were attacked by a clicker?” 

Frankie shakes his head, “I don’t think you’d be frozen if you were on your own with me or Ben och Pope, you’d be as ferocious as you were with Myers or when we first came to Arlington,” he’d said, his thumb still gently caressing the apple of your cheek. “You find your courage when you need it, I’ve seen it.” 

“I want us to find his friend, The Captain, and tell him, we owe it to Morrow.”

“Yeah, we will, I’ll ask around when we get to Manhattan,” Frankie pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around you, and you close your eyes, trying to not see the clickers and Morrow’s last moments in your mind again. 

You’re all kept at Sinatra Park  for a few days while they gather enough passengers for the ferry ride over to Manhattan. While you’re there you’re supplied with ration cards for food and supplies, a simple paper ID card and an address for your new accommodations. Once in the QZ you have three days to get settled, then you need to report to FEDRA’s work detail to be assigned jobs. 

The ferry to Manhattan is surreal, it’s really just an old sailing boat, and you sit on deck, watching the broken skyline glide closer. It’s a beautiful day, late August, warm sun on your back and glittering water. If it wasn’t for the jagged, crumbling ruins of skyscrapers you’d think you were on a romantic weekend break with Frankie, taking a sightseeing tour on the Hudson. The illusion shatters the second you step ashore though, your papers are checked and then you’re scanned again by FEDRA before you’re let through the final checkpoint. 

Once on the other side the four of you made your way to an address on the Upper West Side. You can’t help but giggle as you see the building, you’re in a fucking brownstone on the Upper West Side. The area is less bombed than other parts of Manhattan, so most people live here now, but still. You and Frankie are now living in a studio apartment within spitting distance of Central Park, worth more before the outbreak than you and Frankie earned combined in probably about ten years. If it wasn’t for the whole ‘end of the world’ thing, you’d be ecstatic. 

You’ve been given accommodation in the same building as Pope and Benny, they’re just a floor below you two. Frankie and you had registered as husband and wife with FEDRA in Arlington, even if you’d never had a wedding or a ceremony. There had been some religious men of different faiths in Arlington who’d married people for a few ration cards, but it seemed so pointless to you both. Frankie was yours, and you were his, a glum ceremony in the apocalypse wouldn’t make any difference. So when FEDRA asked how you were related, he said you were his wife and then you were. The ring was still on your finger, the three diamonds a permanent reminder of the little threesome you’d almost become. 

Walking into your new apartment feels like a massive relief. You love Benny and Pope and you’re happy they’ll be just downstairs, but to finally be able to close the door behind you, and have your own place with Frankie again, it makes your breath a deep contented sigh.

Frankie drops both your backpacks on the floor and wraps his arms around you from behind, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. 

“Wanna check what the water pressure’s like?” he mumbles, his hands already slipping up to cup your breasts through your t-shirt. 

“Oh god, a shower…” you moan, “I’d forgotten about showers.” 

Frankie chuckles into your ear, “I’ve been dreaming about showers for a month.”

“You’ve been dreaming about us in a shower for a month,” you correct him and you can feel his chest vibrate as he laughs. 

“True,” he says, grabbing the old Ikea bag filled with towels, sheets and hygiene supplies you’d been given when you’d been assigned the apartment, “so make my dreams come true, hermosa.” 

“Cheesy, very cheesy,” you laugh at his wink but accept his hand as he pulls you through the small studio apartment. It’s just a room, not a very big one even, with an alcove for a double bed at one end, kitchen at the other. Apart from the front door, there are only two doors, one leading to a tiny storage room, the other on to the bathroom. It doesn’t have a bathtub, just a small shower in the corner with a glass wall shielding the rest of the room from the spray. 

“If we try anything sex related in this shower we’ll either soak the room or injure ourselves,” you say, giving the small space a critical look. “Bedroom?” 

“You mean the bed in the middle of the living room? Sure. But I’ll let you shower before I make good on that hour between your legs,” Frankie grins, “Make you think about how I’m gonna let you test the sound proofing in this building.”  He pulls you in by grabbing your ass, his mouth finding yours as he pushes you up against the counter with a playful growl. You giggle into his mouth as he grinds into you. 

“Never known a forty year old to be so horny, Frankie, you’re hornier than the guys I dated when I was a teenager.” You laugh as he growls into your mouth, his rapidly growing cock firm against your hip.  

“Wish I’d known you when I was a teenager,” he mumbles, his lips moving down your jaw when he suddenly pulls back, “No, wait, the sex would’ve been terrible, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing back then.” 

“Inexperienced little Francisco Morales? I would’ve loved that too,” you chuckle, pushing him off you. “I’m gonna shower, make the bed and I’ll let you show me your new moves.”

“You already know all my moves,” he nips at your bottom lip with a smirk before leaving.  

The pressure in the shower is low but at least the water is hot and clean, steaming up the small bathroom. Frankie comes in after a little while and sits on the toilet, peeling off his layers as you dry off and step out. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes on your damp curves and you have to slap his hand away with a smile. 

“You’re all grimy, Frankie, shower first, then hands.” You wink at him and quickly jump backwards out the door as he tries to catch your ass. 

The bed must’ve been the one originally in the apartment because it is nice….you groan as you sink into the large plush mattress. Or it might just be that you’ve spent most nights on a camping mat, because it’s like a cloud under you. By the time Frankie comes out of the shower, his damp curls like a halo around his head, you’re almost asleep. 

“Nice bed?” he asks, grinning down at your sleepy face as he crawls on top, caging you in as he drops onto his forearms. 

“Very nice bed,” you reply, smiling as he sinks down further to take your bottom lips between his teeth, making you open your mouth for his tongue. His warm body is like a weighted blanket over you as he slowly works to replace your sleepiness with arousal, when you let a first soft moan slip out he pulls back and looks down at you.

“Still tired?” he smiles as his warm hand grabs the back of your thigh and slides your knee up, opening you up to the heavy weight of his erection. 

“Yeah, but you can keep going, if you’re good enough I won’t fall asleep.” 

You shriek with laughter as your comment makes him slip down and blow a wet raspberry into your belly button, squirming under his fingers.

“So cheeky, as if you could fall asleep with what I have planned, hermosa,” he purrs, slipping down further to nose at the top of your slit. You feel his fingers caress the smooth skin on your thighs and spread you open as he makes room for his shoulders, the sight of his broad back between your legs never ceases to turn you on. You reach down to thread your fingers through his curls, making Frankie hum into your core. 

“Time me, cariño, I said an hour,” he says, unfurling his tongue and letting the tip run the length of your fold. It’s such a slow, teasing movement that makes you clench around nothing, gasping as you sink further into the bed, trying to stop the giggle from getting the better of you. 

“I don’t even have watc-oh shit, Frankie….” 

You wouldn’t be able to say if it’s an hour or not, you lose track of time as soon as he starts teasing your clit, it has been a long time since there was time or safety enough for this. And you’ve missed it, holy fuck you’d missed it. His hot mouth pressed against your core, the thick tongue sliding into your entrance as his perfect nose circles your clit. He groans into you, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as you fist his hair, crying out as he pulls the first orgasm from you. He pulls back, strokes your hips, letting you catch your breath before he moves up over your damp skin, trailing wet kisses over every inch he can reach. 

“Your old moves still work, Morales,” you smile at him as he reaches your mouth. Tasting yourself on him always makes your arousal flare up again, something about him mixing with you. He chuckles, letting his hand slide down between your legs. 

“I noticed,” he says, his damp nose sliding down over your jaw as he slowly slips in a finger, “and you taste just as good as I remember.” 

He lets his fingers open you up before he leaves your mouth, moving down between your legs again. This time his fingers slowly fucks in and out of you while his groans, vibrating over your clit makes you cant your hips against his face, chasing his tongue. He leaves you hanging, just on the edge, with a pained protest, as he removes his fingers. 

“Turn over,” he says, his voice rough, helping you onto your belly, “keep your ankles crossed.” 

“New move?” you ask with a grin over your shoulder, earning you a nip on your butt, before he runs his tongue over the mark. 

“Maybe, I had an idea in the shower,” he gives you a crooked smile and bends down over you, pushing your head down to place a wet kiss on your neck, keeping you flush against the bed.

“Push your hips up, baby, like this,” he grabs your hip, guiding them up against his own. His heavy cock pushes in between your thighs, his hand guiding the head to run through your slick folds. The angle and your closed thighs makes him feel bigger than usual, the stretch making you moan into the sheets as he pushes in, his heavy pants blowing hot air over your neck. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” he growls, he’s moving his hips, shallow thrusts into you as he slowly works his cock deeper in. “So fucking tight, hermosa, gorgeous girl, so good to me…fuck…can you take more?” 

“Yes, please, Frankie, more,” you turn your head to find his lips, messy and uncoordinated as he groans into your mouth. He’s struggling to hold himself up, each thrust makes him want to fall over you, grind into your wet heat and cover your body with his own. You push back against him, taking him deeper as the angle pushes his hard cock to drag over every nerve ending inside you. The tight fit of him is making you whimper as he snaps his hips faster, grinding into you as he bottoms out. He’s pushing you into the bed, his heavy body trapping you under him as each thrust rubs your clit against the soft cotton sheets. Each groan from him makes your pussy clench harder, your orgasm suddenly hitting you, the sheet bunching in your fists as you cry out. 

Frankie stutters and curses, a string of filth in Spanish slipping out as your pussy tightens around him. 

“Where, cariño, where, I’m…fuck…close.” 

“Inside, it’s ok,” you moan, his erratic thrusts making your climax hum through your body, arching up against him as he cries out. He suddenly drops down on you, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a growl as heat fills you, he’s shuddering, his face buried against your shoulder, with a low gasp, he exhales. 

“Fuck…” he moans, his mouth pressed against your skin and your hear the smile in his voice, “Fuck me that was intense,” he chuckles, panting as he tries to catch his breath. 

“I think we ruined the sheets on the first try,” you laugh, flopping onto your back as he pulls out with a hiss, his spend dripping down your thighs. “I know, but it was worth it,” he puts his head on your arm and lets you pull him onto your chest, his head resting on your shoulder. “I’ll sleep on the wet patch.”

“I think you need a haircut,” you smile, pushing back his damp curls from his forehead. His hair has gotten long since you left Arlington, “a haircut or a ponytail.” 

“Imagine Pope’s face if I turned up with a ponytail,” he chuckles, closing his eyes as you rake your fingers through hair, his breathing slows down and he hums, moving his head to give you better access, “I always love when you do that.”

“I know, Frankie,” you whisper, pulling the covers up over you both, Frankie’s warm body pressed against you. 

It takes a few days for the four of you to settle in and start picking up odd jobs. You try to get a job in the FEDRA kitchen but you’re turned down, apparently any job inside a FEDRA facility is reserved for family members of FEDRA soldiers. And since none of the guys have any intentions of joining FEDRA again, you resign yourself to the same odd jobs as the guys. But there are other plans, and they start taking shape only a week after your arrival in New York. 

One of the benefits of the four of you living practically next door is pooling your resources and making them stretch further. So most nights finds Frankie and you in Santi and Benny’s apartment, cooking dinner and hanging out, months on the road together had knitted you together into a family more than ever now. Their two bedroom apartment was bigger than what you and Frankie had and the kitchen had room for a large table where you often found yourself, if it wasn’t your turn to take care of the food. 

This evening Benny’s peeling potatoes while the two of you wait for Frankie and Santi to get back from their job. They’d both signed on to dig up a new field for vegetables in a nearby park and it was hard work that left them tired and dirty each night. So when the front door opens and Pope steps in, grimy and sweaty, you throw him a sympathetic look. 

“Hey, Santi, you’ve got time for a shower, dinner’s not ready yet,” you wave at him and he grunts a thank you, toeing his boots off. 

“Frankie went to shower at your place, he’ll be here soon,” he tells you, pulling off his shirt as he heads towards the bathroom. 

You lay the table and warm up some arepas while the potatoes boil on the stove. The door opens again and Frankie arrives, looking tired but smiling at you as you drop the last arepa on a plate and go over to him. 

“Hello my sweet man,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in the damp, now shorter, curls at his neck. 

“Hello, mi vida,” he smiles back, his hands finding their way to your waist before he pulls you in for a kiss. Blame it on being safe, or the amount of sex you’ve had the past week or maybe ‘that time of the month’ hormones, but you can’t help but deepen the kiss, licking into his mouth and relishing the little surprised moan you pull from him as you tug at his locks, keeping him tight against you. You hear Benny sigh, pointedly, behind your back but Frankie’s got the message now and his hand is sliding up your back to grab your neck and hold you firmly against his mouth. The ‘welcome home’ kiss turns into a much more heated affair, dragging on until you finally have to pull back for air, Frankie’s lips chasing yours for a final press before he opens his eyes and smiles at you. 

“You guys done now?” Benny huffs, mock indignation in his voice, from the kitchen. 

“No,” Frankie says, his hands trying to get you into his arms again as you giggle and turn your back to him, pulling him into the kitchen. 

“Sorry, Benny,” you apologize while your husband pulls you down onto his lap on one of the kitchen chairs, making you squeal when his fingers dig into your waist. 

“I swear you guys are worse than teenagers,” Benny sighs but you hear the smile in his voice. “And Frankie, it’s technically your turn to do dinner so you owe me one.” 

“Yeah, I know, we got delayed on the way back, we worked with a guy today who had some interesting information and we wanted to talk to him.” 

“What kind of information?” you ask as Santi walks in, fresh from his shower. 

“Remember ‘The Captain’ that Morrow mentioned, his boss?” he says, dropping down on a chair across the table from you. “Turns out, he’s the main boss, the guy who runs the smuggling in the QZ. And according to this guy we worked with today, he’s elusive. When you buy from the smugglers, you buy from one of his guys, never from him, he stays hidden because he’s pretty high on FEDRA’s wanted list.” 

Benny puts down a stewpot on the table before he straightens up and looks at Pope, “Why is that interesting? Do we wanna meet this captain guy just to tell him Morrow died? Seems like a lot of hassle if the guy’s a ghost.” 

“If we’re gonna start smuggling again we need to figure out how, and if this guy runs smuggling in the QZ, we need to work with him, or take him out. But,” Pope says, holding up his hand to silence Benny who’s opened his mouth again, “the guy we talked with said they haven’t been able to supply as usual the past few weeks. And we know why.” 

“You guys took out a bunch of his guys….” you say, nodding as it dawns on you. 

“Exactly,” Pope grins, “we’ve already started undermining him, there’s a gap in the market. So we pick up their slack, send a message and we have a better chance of getting in on the smuggling market.” Pope looks pleased with himself as he starts scooping up stew onto his plate. 

“Isn’t it pretty likely that The Captain is gonna be pissed off when you start taking his customers?” You look down at Frankie, he’s been quiet the whole time, his hands holding you steady on his lap. 

“Yeah, most likely,” he agrees, “but we can handle that, and it means he’ll be more inclined to work with us, if we’re already supplying what he can’t.” 

You look at Frankie, chewing your lip, you have more things to say about it but you don’t know how to say it without sounding dismissive. Truth is, you’re worried it’ll be a lot more dangerous than in Arlington; a rival gang, new territory, new connections need to be made and new routes, all while staying under FEDRA’s radar and avoiding any infected. But you can’t tell them not to, smuggling makes them use their skills, the things they’re good at and at the same time bring in things you all need. And you know their smuggling made a difference to the people in Arlington. When FEDRA rationed food and medicine too harshly, what Frankie and Pope brought in could help someone who needed it and at the same time keep you all fed. 

They make plans during the dinner and you don’t say much. Frankie notices your silence and he doesn’t like it, his hand keeps reaching out to touch your leg, wrap his fingers around yours, or pull you closer as you all stand from the dinner table. You feel his worried eyes on you as Pope and Benny pour over an old New York map, strategizing. He can see your mind working and he has an inkling about where it’s going. 

You bring it up later, when you’re alone and back in your own apartment. Frankie’s crawled into bed, pulled down the covers for you to join him, but you remain standing after you come out of the bathroom. 

“I want to be part of the smuggling,” you say and Frankie drops his chin to his chest, this is where he feared you were going. 

“I know you don’t want me too, but, firstly, I am not sitting at home waiting for the three of you while you’re away doing something dangerous. Again. I did that in Arlington and it sucked.” 

Frankie opens his mouth to protest but you cut him off. “And I know you said you need me safe to be able to focus out there, but we’ve been traveling across the country for months and we, all of us, work well together. And you know I can handle myself.” You kneel down on the bed in front of him, making him look you in the eye, “Let me be your lookout, or let me do the trading while you three stand behind me and look like bad asses.” The last thing makes Frankie give an involuntary smirk and you smile, “Frankie, you know it makes sense, I’m a good asset, I can be useful too.”

“I knew you were going to bring it up again,” he says, sighing while he traces his fingertips across your temple to push a strand of hair behind your ear. “If it was anyone else, I’d say yes straight away. But it’s you.” He stops and locks eyes with you, those warm brown eyes you’ve loved from the very beginning, anxious, “You’re everything to me, and the thought of you getting hurt, or worse, scares the shit out of me.” 

“The thought of you getting hurt scares the shit out of me too,” you say, letting him pull you closer, his arms looping around your waist so that you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. “But it scares me even more to think about you getting hurt when I’m not there. Frankie, my very worst nightmare is you just disappearing, and I don’t know what happened to you, like what Hannah had to go through with Will, never knowing.” 

“That’s my worst nightmare too,” he whispers, his voice low and pained. 

“So don’t make me wait at home for you again,” you plead. He tilts his head and leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

“Ok,” he breathes, “ok.” 

It takes a couple of weeks for things to get set in motion, gather the necessary supplies and information to start thinking about leaving the QZ on a smuggling run. FEDRA has taken the rifles but you’d managed to hide your handguns in your backpacks so you weren’t entirely without weapons at least. The first run is short but successful, Pope seems to have a knack for sniffing out passageways. After studying the map and walking around the north eastern end of the QZ for a few days, he’s found several potential entry points into old service tunnels that should run under the wall, next to the bombed metro tunnels. With you as a lookout, the three of them try two before getting lucky in the third one. It’s relatively undamaged, free from infected and leads straight to the 116th street Metro station in East Harlem. The entrance to the metro is blocked off but it doesn’t take the three guys long to clear a narrow passageway that they can easily hide from the outside.

A few days is also spent clearing two more ways in and out of the QZ. Pope has told you about how he’d learnt the hard way to never just have one route. Early on in Franklin the tunnel he’d used had collapsed while he was outside the QZ. He was trapped with no way back in so he had to crawl through the rubble of the collapsed tunnel, narrowly escaping two runners, who came through from a broken wall. Pope was flippant about the way he told the story, making you laugh, but he also told you he’d never been that close to death before or since, even in the army. It was a sober reminder to always have an escape route and he was adamant about having at least two back ups. 

Finding connections takes a bit longer, building trust isn’t easy in the best of times, and these are not the best of times. But not surprisingly, it’s Benny who brings in the first real trade and solid connection for future deals. He meets an older man at one of the odd jobs he takes, clearing one of the streets, a rough and far too heavy job for the older man. Benny, in his usual manner, helps the man get through the day so that he can collect the ration cards he sorely needs. Grateful, the man tells Benny he has a sister who lives up in New Haven who sails down to Orchard Beach and trades in a number of things. 

“She and her husband can get you almost anything you need, just place an order with The Captain’s gang and they’ll sort it.” 

“What if I wanna trade directly with them? I can go out there on my own if I have to.” Benny asks and the old man hesitates, but Benny’s good natured charm serves him well and a few days later he has a time and a place to meet the old man’s sister.

The sister’s name is Jodie Graham, her brother contacts her via one of the two non-FEDRA radio centers set up, and vouches for Benny and his friends and the four of you set out for your first trade. It takes you only half a day to get to Orchard Beach, despite it being slow going in the bombed and ravaged terrain. The trade goes well, Jodie and her husband Damon seem relieved to see a woman together with the three big men flanking you. Despite their best efforts at looking non-threatening, they fail as they approach. Guns at their sides and heavy boots, they look very much like the ex Special Ops soldiers they are. It’s clear that it’s only her brother’s word that lets the four of you approach the boat they’ve come in on. 

You don’t have much to trade with them yet but this first time feels mainly like a show of good faith. 

“Any prescription drugs you can trade with us, we’ll be interested,” Jodie says, “that’s something we can’t seem to get from other smugglers. And the other New Yorkers, the ones who work for The Captain, they’re always reluctant to trade it.” 

“Why?” you ask, you’ve been doing most of the talking, it felt natural when Jodie seemed to trust you more than the three men behind you.

“A misplaced sort of moral it seemed like,” Jodie scoffed, “as if anyone cares about drug addictions today, seems like one of the nicer ways to go.” She takes the bag of coffee beans you’ve handed her, “They won’t trade them, but I’ve got plenty of people who want them, so if you get your hands on any, we’ll pay very well for them.” 

“I’ll see what we can do, we haven’t got any at the moment,” you say, keeping your tone non-committal. You already know you won’t be trading any drugs, it was a line Pope had drawn in the sand early on. One you wouldn’t be prepared to cross with Frankie’s history either. But it spiked your interest about the rival New York gang, maybe it was a common ground you could start with, some sort of honor among thieves, or smugglers in your case.

“Any supplies you need for your ship?” you ask, “We might be able to get you extra gear for it, there’s plenty of boat clubs around Manhattan and most of the supplies in them aren’t of much use to anyone without a boat.” 

“Yeah, any sail cloth you can find, and rope,” Jodie says and you make a note in your book to search around the Manhattan coastline before the next trade. 

Once you’ve agreed on when to connect again on the radio, the four of you make your way back towards Manhattan. By the time you get back to the apartments it’s late but you’re all in a good mood, the day has been a success. 

You do four more trades with Jodie and Damon, filling your backpacks with an assortment of goods each trade, before the first hint of trouble crops up. Jodie’s the one who gives you the heads up. 

“I like trading with you guys, you’re punctual, well prepared, and never give me grief, so I’m gonna warn you,” she says while Benny and Pope fill the packs with wares. Frankie and you are standing guard, keeping an eye on the beach. “The other guys, The Captain’s gang, they’ve noticed that someone’s taking customers, and they’re not happy.” 

“You still trade with them?” Benny asks and Jodie nods. 

“Yeah, of course, I’ll trade with anyone who’s fair, and they’ve been doing this for years now, always been decent. They had a slump but they were out here a couple of weeks ago.” 

“Did you tell them about us?” Pope asks, glancing up at Jodie, unable to hide his annoyance and she scowls at him.

“I’m not stupid, I didn’t say anything. But they asked, didn’t they? Asked if I’d been approached by another gang and I said no.” 

Pope closes his backpack and looks over at Frankie and you, you’re both still facing away from the ocean, but obviously listening to what Jodie’s saying. 

“Did they say how they know there’s someone else?” you ask over your shoulder. 

“One of your customers didn’t want what they usually trade, said they had another source.” 

“Fucking idiot,” you hear Frankie say under his breath and you have to agree. You’d asked all your customers to be discreet. Your excuse being that you didn’t want FEDRA to find out, but you also wanted to keep things low key until you were established enough to have a good deal to offer The Captain. The last thing you needed was a gang war, fighting over territory. 

“Thanks for the heads up, Jodie,” Benny says, hoisting his bag up onto his back. 

“Watch your backs, they seem pretty pissed,” she gives the four of you a final wave as you turn back towards the city. 

Jodie’s warning makes you extra cautious when you leave the QZ, but you didn’t expect them to find you inside the QZ. Benny makes the door frame rattle as he slams the front door to the apartment as he and Frankie come in. You and Pope jump to your feet from the couch at the sight of the two men.

“What happened?” you gasp, gently taking Frankie’s chin in your hand and tilting it up so that you can get a better lock at the gash over his eyebrow. 

“We got fucking jumped,” Frankie growls, wincing as you brush hair from his forehead, it’s got stuck in the dried blood that’s smeared across his face. 

“The Captain’s gang,” Benny expands, “must’ve followed us into that warehouse down by the high line we were planning on checking out. Five of them, think I lost a fucking tooth,” he grimaces and grabs his jaw. 

Pope’s peeled off to the bathroom and now he returns with the first aid kit, pointing both men to the couch. 

“They even said, and I shit you not, ‘regards from The Captain’ before they attacked, like we’re in fucking West Side Story or something,” Benny snorts, wincing when the movement makes blood drip from his split lip. 

“Any internal injuries?” you ask Frankie as you help him take his jacket and holster off, he’s grimacing as his shoulder twists. 

“No, I don’t think so, they got a couple of good hits in, but that was it. One guy slammed me shoulder first into a wall, but I didn’t dislocate it.” 

“Please tell me you took care of these fuckers,” Pope growls while you grab alcohol and gauze to clean Frankie’s cut.  

“One got a way, which is good I suppose, sends a warning to the others,” Benny says, “the other four we eliminated.” 

“Gun fight?” Pope asks and Benny nods. 

“We had to-fuck! Be careful!” he yelps when Pope prods a cut on his forearm. “I want her to do it,” he points to you, “better bedside manner.” 

“Just shut up and tell us what happened,” Pope says, rolling his eyes at Benny’s wincing. 

“We had to run,” Frankie says, “Only one of them had a gun, which was lucky, but a FEDRA patrol obviously heard the shots and we had to bolt. Didn’t even get a chance to get a good look at the warehouse or what they’d were carrying.” 

“How did they know it was you?” you ask, “It’s worrying if they know what we look like, we won’t be safe in the QZ.” 

“Someone we traded with must’ve told them, Benny does stick out, easy to recognise.” Pope holds up his hands apologetically when Benny protests, “sorry, but it’s true, you’re a huge blonde dude, not many guys are built like you.”

“We’ve got a trade in three days, outside the QZ,” you remind them, “we’ll have to be extra careful, this is a new trade too, it could be a set up.” 

“You wanna cancel?” Frankie grabs your hand as it comes down from his forehead, his eyebrows knitted together in that familiar worried look. Glancing over at Benny and Pope you think it over, if you said you wanna cancel it you know they’d go with it, somehow you’ve become the one who says yes or no on a trade, trusting your gut instinct implicitly. 

“No, this connection came from Jodie, I can’t see her setting us up,” you decide eventually, “but maybe we take a different route this time?” 

“Sounds like a smart idea,” Pope agrees, “I’ll have a look at the map.” 

You turn back to Frankie and clean up his knuckles, they’ve split where he’s hit someone, and place bandaids on the larger cuts. When you’re done he wraps his bandaged arm around your waist and pulls you closer on the couch, enough for him to bury his face into the crook of your neck. You can feel him inhaling deeply as his hand fists the back of your shirt and you dip your nose to his soft curls, sweaty and kinda dusty smelling from the day. 

“I’m glad you came back in one piece, Frankie,” you mumble and he nods against your neck, pulling you tighter. He doesn’t have to say anything, you know why he does it, a silent thank you offered to the universe for letting him return home to you one more time. 

One of the first things you traded Jodie for, in exchange for a large, brand new sail, were two walkie talkies. Battery powered, they were invaluable if you needed to split up. And today, with the new trade going down, they served their purpose. And in light of the new situation with the rival smugglers, Pope led you all out of a different tunnel, a detour, but worth it to minimize the risk, and bringing you out at 125th Street Station. You were meeting your new contacts at a nearby park down by the river and since your first meeting with Jodie you’d worked out a system where one of you stayed behind and kept watch from afar. Pope knew the city best and he would suggest a spot for a trade where he knew there’d be a good vantage point for someone to keep an eye on things. This morning youcame out early to the meet up point, taking time to make sure the lookout point was clear before the three men left you up there with one of the walkie talkies and a rifle. You weren’t the best shot, but you didn’t really need to be. So far everything trade had been smooth, but if things did go bad, a few shots from a hidden sniper would make anyone run for cover, whether or not you hit them. But the real advantage was that you were able to give the guys a bird’s eye view of the area and a head’s up if something seemed off, your gut instinct serving you well. 

This morning all of you were on edge, the attack on Frankie and Benny making you extra nervous. It was difficult to say if it was the knowledge that The Captain’s gang was after you that made you jumpy, or if something was wrong with the trade. You’re splayed flat on your belly at the edge of a broken window in the half bombed out apartment tower, using the scope on the rifle in place of binoculars, those being next on your list of things you were hoping to trade Jodie for. Nothing stirs in the wide open park next to the river and when you scan the streets you can see from your perch, everything is quiet. You watch the three men make their way down a street and into the park, disappearing briefly from view before they reach the agreed upon location. In the distance, on the other side of the park, you see two men walking across and you relay what you see to Frankie, he’s got the other radio today. 

The trade goes off without a hitch and you watch as the two men retreat across the park, back towards the small White Plains QZ that’s up north. It’s when you swing the scope back towards Frankie and the others that you see it. Three men crouching behind a car further down the street your guys are walking down. Fumbling for the radio you hit the button. 

“Catfish, three men hidden behind a white SUV about a block and half down the street. Over.” 

“Copy that, Jefa.” 

Jefa… The call sign they’d given you still made you roll your eyes, and was only ever allowed to be used in situations when your real name shouldn’t be used. It had been Pope’s idea, of course, but Benny loved it and Frankie conceded that he couldn’t call you ‘cariño’ over the radio or in front of traders. So Jefa, boss, it was. 

You didn’t feel very bosslike as you watched them slowly walk down the street, you could see Frankie telling them about the three men. At the next crossing they turned down a side street and you lost sight of them. 

“Jefa, we’re going to flank them, let me know if they move. Over” Frankie’s voice came over on the radio almost as soon as they disappeared from view, you could hear them running along the street. 

“Ok, I’ve got eyes on them, they’re still stationary. Over.”  

Frankie clicks the button on the radio and follows Pope’s back down the street, Benny close behind. There’s a small neighborhood park, a ballpark only really, at the back of the block and they cut across it, quickly covering two blocks parallel to the main street they were on. It’s only a few minutes before they turn back towards the street again and they slow down, moving silently. They come out just below the black SUV, expecting to see the three men but the street is empty. 

Frankie brings up the radio, “Jefa, come in, did they move? We can’t see them. Over.” He clicks the receive button and waits for a response while Pope and Benny quickly scan the street.

 “Jefa, come in, do you copy? Over.” Only static comes back over the radio and lead drops into his belly. His eyes meet Pope’s at the same time as the realization hits, decoy. Benny curses under his breath and looks towards the tower, while Frankie tries the radio one more time, already starting to run towards the building. 

“Loop the chain around it, it’ll hold her,” the voice comes from far away as you blink your eyes open in the darkness. “The captain’s gonna see her when he gets back.” The voice, a grumpy sounding man’s voice, retreats and you hear a door closing and locking. The back of your head hurts, as does the side of your face and the side of your ribs. 

You’d heard them just a couple of seconds before they were on you, in the tower, someone’s shoe scuffed against the floor and you turned, but you weren’t fast enough to get off the floor. As you blink again, trying to shake the darkness around you, you feel the handcuffs around your wrists, and a chain rattles. It takes a few more seconds before you realize you’ve got a hood over your head, the scratchy material making your nose itch. The world is tilted sideways and it takes you a few tries to get upright, the handcuffs are tight behind your back. You wobble, almost tipping backwards, but a wall stops you from falling and you gratefully lean against it, trying to collect your thoughts, stopping the panic from rising in your throat. 

Breath, in and out, stay calm, always number one, stay calm. Fuck, easier said than done, Frankie.

Focusing on your breathing, mentally going through your body to check for any serious injuries, you suppress the panic to the pit of your stomach, making you feel nauseous but it’s manageable. For now. 

You don’t know how long you’re left sitting on the floor, you really need to pee, so it’s probably a pretty long time. When the door finally opens you’re stiff, hungry, pissed off and not happy about the rough hands that suddenly yank you off the floor. It takes all your willpower to not snap at whoever is shoving you through the door, a hard grip on your shoulder, an equal measure of anger and fear making your legs jellylike. 

The air feels raw and it smells like you’re in a basement, being taken down a hallway, up some stairs and into a warmer room. Through the tight weave of the hood you see the light change, this room is brighter than the room downstairs that you were kept in, and it smells like food, making your stomach grumble 

“This the lookout?” a man asks from behind you. 

“Yeah, she was right where you said they’d put someone, perfect view of the park. Had a rifle and a radio.” 

“Nothing if not predictable,” the first man says, as he moves through the room, you hear the springs of a couch or chair squeak as he sits down. “Who are you working for?” he asks. 

It takes you a few seconds to respond, something is triggering at the back of your mind, the rough, low cadence, the accent so familiar. 

“I don’t work for anyone,” you reply eventually, “I was just asked to be a lookout for a few hours, easy ration cards.” It’s a weak lie, but you’re not about to give them any more information than they obviously already have and your answer seems to have given the man food for thought as he doesn’t reply straight away. 

“Let’s show her some good faith,” he says, talking to someone else in the room, “Get some water and some of the leftover rice.” There’s a word of protest from behind you but he cuts them off, “What’s she gonna do? She’s handcuffed and hooded, let’s treat her nice.” 

The door opens and closes as someone leaves. The man left in the room gets off the couch and comes over to you, you flinch as you feel his hand grab the hood. He pulls it off and you blink against the sudden bright light. 

“Holy shit, it is you…” the man whispers and as you see his blue eyes it hits you, the voice, the cadence, William Miller. 

You lose your voice as tears well up in your eyes and Will puts his hand on your cheek, partly checking the cut you most likely have there, but also almost checking to see if you’re real. And you could ask the same of him, if your voice wasn’t cut off by a sob. His smile is watery too and he makes you stumble as he suddenly pulls you into a bear hug, so reminiscent of his brother’s hugs.

“I can’t believe it’s you, you’re here, how the fuck are you here?” he asks incredulously, pulling back from you and you grin, trying to swallow down another sob. 

“I’m with Benny,” you choke out, “And Frankie and Pope.” 

“Benny’s alive?” Will eyes go wide, he’s holding on to you with both hands on your arms, “he’s here in New York?” 

“He was with me this morning. They all were and- “ you’re cut off by the sound of boots in the hallway and Will throws the hood over your head again. “You don’t know me,” he hisses before stepping back and you’re left confused as the door opens again. 

“We’ll take her down again, let her eat, and then I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an agreement,” Will says, his voice sounding rough again, giving an order to the other man. Will’s hand takes hold of your arm, turning you around and you’re marched back the way you came, downstairs and into the damp smelling room. 

“Take off her cuffs, chain her to the radiator, so that she can eat.” Will leaves you standing in the middle of the room but before he lets go and leaves, he gives your arm a quick squeeze. The other man locks a chain around your ankle and removes your handcuffs, leaving the hood on while he leaves the room. 

It’s good that he does because you don’t think you’d be able to contain the grin on your face. Will is alive! William fucking Miller, alive and well in New York! And a smuggler…that thought hits you like a brick, Will is a smuggler, and Benny, Frankie and Pope have been taking out his guys, his friends. And Will caught onto that faster than you did, that’s why he put the hood back on. Whoever the other guys are, they won’t forgive you or the guys for stomping in on their territory and killing their guys. Even if it is Will’s brother. And Will knows that. 

“This could get really fucking messy,” you whisper under your breath as you pull off the hood and sink down on the floor again. 

Again you’re left on your own for several hours, the sun moves outside the small window high up on the wall, sinking low before it goes dark outside. Your thoughts keep flitting between joy at Will being alive and how happy the others will be when they find out, and worry about your three guys, Frankie especially. You know they’ll be in the process of tearing up the city to find you, putting their considerable talents to use to force information from anyone who might have some.

There’s a bare bulb in the room and at some point someone turns it on, casting yellow light over you. More hours pass and you start to wonder if you’ve been forgotten down here, or if something’s happened to Will. You’re also half expecting Frankie and the guys to burst in, guns blazing, in some wild rescue mission. Falling asleep is impossible, you’re too anxious, so when you finally hear footsteps outside the door, you’re already on your feet. The door opens and Will steps in, closing it softly behind him. A few quick steps and he envelops you in another bear hug, longer this time, and you can finally put your own arms around him too. He’s just as big and imposing as the last time you saw him, almost six years ago, a little bit more tired around the eyes, a few more silver strands in the blonde hair and you give yourself a few seconds to just enjoy the fact that he’s alive and here. He seems to do the same, holding on to you for a long minute before he finally lets go and steps back. 

“It’s so good to see you, Will! I kept thinking it was a dream all day, but you’re actually here,” you say, grinning down at him as he crouches to unlock the chain around your ankle. 

“Same, I kept thinking I was being delusional,” he chuckles softly and stands up, “When I heard your voice under the hood, I immediately thought of Frankie, that’s how I knew it was you.” 

“You were faster than I was, I heard your accent and I couldn’t figure out who it reminded me of,” you smile, poking his chest just to make sure he’s real again. “You look good, Miller!”

He smiles but it drops off his face as something hits him, “You said you’re with Frankie, Pope and Benny?” 

“Yeah, we got to New York a few weeks ago.”

“And Hannah?” 

His question hits you like a punch to the gut, you can’t stop tears welling up in your eyes, you have to shake your head and drop your eyes, you can’t look at him as the realization sinks in. 

“Do you know what happened?” he asks, his voice low and you force yourself to nod, the image of Hannah in Benny’s arms flooding your mind as you feel tears run down your cheeks. Will suddenly pulls you into a hug and you press your face to his chest. He’s holding you almost too tight, and you hear him inhale deeply, a long, ragged intake of breath, before he exhales and lets go of you. 

“Tell me later, when you can tell me everything. I need to get you out of here now,” his voice is rough but determined, “I want you back with Frankie before he kicks down my door with a shotgun.” 

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” you reply, your voice shaky but you swallow down the tears, hastily wiping your cheeks as Will goes for the door. Making sure the coast is clear he waves you forward and silently you make your way down the hall and up the stairs. It looks as if you’re in an old office of sorts, long hallways, conference rooms on the sides. The place is dark, only the dim light from the outside comes through in places, but Will knows his way. He leads you to what looks like a backdoor. 

“I can’t leave, it’ll raise too many questions,” he says when the two of you reach the door. “Where do you live? I’ll come find you guys tomorrow.” 

He opens the door and glances outside, stepping out a second later. You hear a door behind you open as you follow Will out, and Will grabs your arm, pulling you out fast. 

“What the fuck?!” comes an angry, gruff voice, “What the fuck is going on, captain?” 

“Nothing, Conway,” Will says quickly, “Go back to your shift, our guest wasn’t feeling well, I’m taking her out for some air.” 

The man looks you up and down and back to Will, he’s got his hand on your arm, still holding the door open and you’re frozen, staring at the man. 

“Where are her fucking handcuffs?” He takes a few steps towards the door and Will squeezes your arm, and you take a step back. 

“Turn around, Conway, and go back to your shift, that’s an order, I’ve got her.” Will’s voice is solid, clearly in command, but it doesn’t work on the man .

“You’re either about to fuck her or let her go,” he says, another step towards the door, “and if you’re doing the first, I want in,” he leers at you, “If you’re doing the second, then we’ve got a big fucking problem, captain.” 

“I’m just letting her get some air, now turn around and walk away, Conway.” 

“She’s got air now, so bring her back in then,” he challenges, he’s at the threshold now, only a step away from Will. 

“Conway,” Will says, taking half a step back and glancing back at you, “You really should know when to walk away.” The punch comes out of nowhere, Will swings and hits Conway’s jaw with a sharp crack and the man drops, his head making a nasty thud on the floor just inside the door. Will shakes out his fist and bends to grab the man’s limp body. “Get the top of that dumpster,” he says, motioning further down the alley, and you run over, pushing the lid back as Will grabs the man and tosses him over his shoulder. Whatever happened to Will in the past six years, it certainly hadn’t impacted his brute physical strength, he barely makes a noise as he hoists the man into the metal container and you slide the lid shut. 

“Ok, wait at the end of the alley, stay out of sight. If I’m not back in five, go home, I’ll find you there.” 

You nod and make your way over as Will disappears inside the building again. You wait anxiously in the shadows by the street but it doesn’t take long for Will to come back out. This time he’s got a jacket on, a backpack and your own backpack, gratefully you take it from him and the rifle he hands you. 

“Let’s go,” he says, stepping out into the street. 

“Are you leaving them?” you ask in a whisper as you follow him, nodding at the backpack and his gear. 

“Yeah, I’ll tell you more later but it’s been coming on for a while, I’ve been wanting to punch Conway for months.” Will pulls a disgruntled face as you hurry through the quiet streets. There’s a curfew in effect as usual and you stay in the small alleys, hurrying across any avenues. You’re pretty far from the Upper West Side and it takes you over an hour to make your way back, Will telling you bits and pieces of what’s been going on while you duck in and out of shadows. 

“I got reports a few hours ago, the guys took out four more of my guys, they’re trying to find you”, Will says as you skirt around Central Park. 

“We were taking out your guys, Will,” you say, “Aren’t you pissed at us? We basically came in and started taking over your business.”

“Not pissed, just annoyed,” Will looks over at you and shrugs, “you did what I’ve done many times over, I have no right to be mad at anyone coming in and trying to take over the smuggling. I did the same thing, only I was successful. And since then, there’s been several attempts at trying to take over from me.” Will gives a low chuckle, “I’ve got to say, no one has come as close as you guys, you put a real dent in my operation, I was getting worried. The fucking irony of it being you and the guys, my own fucking baby brother.” 

You can’t help but smile, Will has a point, the guys had used their Delta Force tactics against the one person who really would know how to counter them. That’s how Will had known there’d be someone in the apartment tower. 

“And now they’re trying to find you, and I can’t blame them,” Will says as you stop and crouch, waiting for a FEDRA patrol to drive past. “I wouldn’t wanna get between Frankie and you. I’m assuming he’s as crazy about you as always?” Even in the dim light you can see Will’s smile. 

“We got married,” you say, holding up your left hand, “not in a ceremony of anything, just registered as husband and wife with FEDRA.” 

“Congratulations,” Will grins, “but I have to say, kinda disappointed I wasn’t invited to the wedding.” 

“Dumbass,” you smile at him and he chuckles silently, “c’mon, the apartment is just down this street.” 

You see dim lights on in the building as you approach. “We’ll check at Benny and Pope’s place first, they might all be there,” you say as you let the two of you into the brownstone. Will only nods and you wonder what kind of emotions are running through his head, only minutes away from seeing his baby brother for the first time in almost six years. 

You give a low knock on the front door and by the speed it’s opened, you know they weren’t sleeping. Pope yanks the door open, he must’ve looked through the peephole because he grabs you and hugs you before you even have time to react, he doesn’t even notice Will standing slightly to the side behind you. 

“Pope,” you protest weakly, “I’ve brought someone, get Benny.” You feel Pope’s arms fall from you and as you look up you catch the look on his face as he spots Will. 

“Dios mío…” he breathes and Will grins as Pope looks as if he’s seen a ghost. 

“Who is it?” you hear Benny call from inside and you quickly grab Will and pull him inside the door, forcing Pope to back up so that you can close the door. This is going to get noisy.

“Benny!” Pope shouts, stepping forward and grabbing Will into a hug, “you’re never fucking gonna believe who it is!” 

“Who?” Benny calls back from the kitchen, he sounds tired and annoyed as he steps out, Frankie behind him, looking even worse than Benny sounds. 

It takes Benny several seconds to register who he’s looking at, the two men staring at each other across the room until Will moves, stepping away from Pope and grabbing Benny. 

“Come here, baby bro,” he chokes as Benny throws his arms around him, a strangled growl coming from his throat. 

“How?” Benny splutters, his face buried in his brother’s shoulder, “How and how the fuck!?” He pulls away, grabbing Will’s face between his hands, “Where the fuck have you been?!”

“I could ask the same of you,” Will chuckles, his voice thick with emotions as he seems to just take in the sight of Benny’s face. “It’s good to see you again, baby bro, I didn’t think I would.” 

“I never gave up on you,” Benny says, grabbing Will into a hug again, “I never fucking gave up on you.” 

You put your arms out to Frankie as you see him and he’s on you with a few long steps, pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in an instant. 

“We’ve been looking for you all over the city,” he mumbles, pulling back a little to run his thumb gently over the cut on your cheek. 

“I know, and we have a lot of catching up to do,” you reply as his hands tugs you closer to him, his nose bumping against yours. 

“Fish, give me a hug, I got your wife back for you,” Will says, letting go of Benny and enveloping both you and Frankie in a hug, Frankie grabs his shoulder and they bump their foreheads together. 

“I owe you everything, brother,” Frankie says, locking eyes with Will, “It’s so fucking good to see you, you’ve got to tell us everything.” 

It’s a long story and Will tells it as Pope makes coffee and Frankie cleans your cuts. 

“From the beginning?” Will asks, and Benny nods. 

“Yeah, from the beginning, outbreak day, what happened to you? I went to your office, it went up in flames.” 

“When it all started going crazy, my phone died, I couldn’t get hold of any of you and I was thinking I’d just stay put in the office until it calmed down,” Will sinks down on the couch next to Benny, "But then the coffee shop, the one on the first floor, caught fire and we all got told to leave. It was chaos on the street outside and I tried getting behind the building to stay out of sight. But then I saw Emma, you know the barista you always used to flirt with Ben?” Ben nods and Will continues, “I saw her through the window, she got trapped by the fire, behind the counter so I had to get her out, got the back door open and managed to pull her out. But I think something collapsed, I don’t remember too well. All I know it hurt like a bitch and then I woke up in a triage tent somewhere, I got pretty badly burnt.” Will pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt and shows the painful looking scarring on his shoulder. 

“Fuck, that looks gnarly,” Ben says, leaning forward and running his fingers over his brother’s skin

“It goes down my back too, took fucking forever to heal.” Will lets his shirt drop back down, “They were gonna leave me in the local medical camp but I got lucky, you guys remember Colonel Middleton?” He looks over at Frankie and Pope who both nod. 

“Yeah, from that fuck up in Yemen,” Pope says, “worst fucking officer I’ve ever met.” 

“Well, he came through for me, he got me on a chopper to D.C, they had a burn unit still up and running there, military only. I was out of it for the most part but they patched me up. By the time I was able to stand up without the skin on my back falling off, it had all gone to shit. QZ:s going up everywhere, all the major cities bombed, including Arlington and D.C.” 

He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, looking at Pope, Frankie and you, “I tried finding you guys, but I couldn’t get back to Arlington and then Middleton offered to get me to NYC, help rebuild. I…” Will’s head drops down, “I needed a distraction, a purpose, to keep going…” He turns his head and looks back at Benny who’s grabbed his arm, “I’m sorry, Benny, I should’ve looked harder for you, and for Hannah.” 

At the mention of Hannah’s name, Benny shrinks, the big man visibly sinking lower in his seat as his eyes go dark, it makes your heart ache and you feel Frankie take your hand, squeezing it tight. 

“I know she didn’t make it, Benny,” Will says, “it’s ok, I knew it was a long shot to hope that she was still alive. I just wanna know how she died.” 

Benny’s jaw goes tight and you feel tears pressing up hot in your eyes, Pope’s exhaling slowly behind you and the silence seems to stretch indefinitely. 

“Things in Arlington got bad,” you hear Frankie say, he’s looking at Benny who can’t seem to take his eyes off his shoes, “There was this guy, head of FEDRA there, who got power hungry. He had men around him who kept him in power thanks to the favors they got from him.Things started rumbling and Hannah got caught up in it, defending a kid.” Frankie stops and shakes his head, he’s struggling and he looks at you for help but Benny speaks up. 

“She got taken to FEDRA lock up, Will,” Benny’s eyes are back on his brother, “and they killed her,” a sob racks his chest, a sharp inhale and Will’s arm goes around him, you can see his knuckles white from the grip on Benny’s shoulder. 

“But we got them, we killed the ones who did it, Will, and I, we all, put her to rest, she wasn’t alone and I said goodbye for you too, I said goodbye for us both. I made sure she knew.”

Benny’s shoulders shake and you know he sees in his mind the same as you, Hannah’s body, just before Frankie and Pope wrapped her, bent over her face, whispering into her ear, before carrying her to the fire.

Frankie’s arm pulls you into his chest as the sobs overtake you, Santi pulling you both in closer as Will seems to have a battle raging inside him. 

“You got them?” he asks quietly.  

“Yeah, we got them all,” Pope says, his voice rough. 

“Ok.” 

Will’s head remains low between his shoulders for several long minutes, Benny inhales deeply and Will looks over at him. 

“I know you took care of her, Benny, I’m grateful it was you.” He sighs and drags both hands over his face, rough stubble scraping against his palms, “I need air, I need to process, I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“I’m coming’ with you,” Benny says, standing up at the same time as his brother, and Will nods, his jaw still tight. 

“I’ll see you guys in the morning, alright?” he nods to the three of you, still on the couch. 

After Will and Benny have left, you slump back against Frankie, you feel drained. It’s early morning, and the stress of the day is finally catching up with you. Frankie senses your fatigue and gently pushes you up off the couch.

“C’mon, hermosa, time to sleep,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist to hold you steady against him. 

“Sleep well, Santi,” you say and he nods, he looks drained too. 

“Sleep well, hermana, let Frankie spoil you, ok?” 

“I always do,” Frankie replies and leads you out the door. 

Back in your own apartment you pull your clothes off and collapse on the bed, not even bothering to wash off. Frankie falls into bed next to you, tugging you tight against his chest, his arm as your pillow. 

“You scared me,” he whispers, lips pressed against your forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble back, “I knew you were looking for me though,” your nose buried in his sparse chest hair, tickling you as you speak. He’s tugging the covers up over you both and you tangle your legs with his. 

“I’d never stop looking, cariño, you know that, right?” He’s got his arms properly wrapped around you now, his nose skimming over your cheek in the darkness, you can feel his lips brush over yours as you turn your face up towards him. 

“I know, I’d never stop looking for you either, Frankie,” you whisper, finding his soft mouth and sinking into his kiss. It’s slow, warm and calm, letting you close your eyes and relax against him, his warm breath against your cheek as he pulls away and lets you fall asleep.  

Chapter 27

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics

[acutemushroom]

My opinion on some Hatchetfield ships

The title says it all, these are my opinions on Hatchetfield ships that nobody asked for ! 😅 More seriously. I first want to make it clear that these are my personnel thoughts on them and that you are free to like those you like and think what you want on them. I also want to get out of the way the fact that I have a bias for canon ships. So yeah, I'm generally a bit less into the ships involving a character in a canon ship and another.

Now, to the ships !

PAULKINS (Paul Matthews x Emma Perkins)

The one, the only, the original, the OG, the Paulkins ! I quite like them. A boring but also brave office worker and his crabby barista with survival skills. They're cute together, how can I not like them ? Though, I admit I prefer them in angst fics and don't really read Paulkins fluff. Part of it is because I love to see the character I like suffer. But also because of how they got together in the first place. In an apocalypse, a dire situation filled with stress. Paul who was constantly protecting her and fighting a literal God's control to try to save her. Emma who we discover a softer side to because of her relationship with Paul. I think they work best in desperate situation than in pure fluff. But that's just me though.

PAULKOTHO (Paul Matthews x Pokotho)

They are my roman empire. I've already talked in length about them. I've wrote fics in which I explored my view on their relationship, even if they weren't the only focus. I have others staring them planned. I fucking adore them. A relentless, controlling, uncompromising God and his absolutely unwilling and resisting prophet. I love them more than is probably healthy.

ROASTED CHAI COFFEE (Paul Matthews x Ted Spankoffski)

I am mostly neutral about them. Not my cup of coffee, but I see their appeal. Though, I can see it happening in a context where they both know for the cosmic horrors ruling Hatchetfield, that there are Gods interested in them both. But without being under Pokey and Tinky's clutches either. They just have to deal and cope together with the knowledge of what happened to them in other timelines.

Paul Matthews x Bill Woodward

Not a ship I go out of my way to read, but one that I am quite fond off. I especially love the interpretation of it where Bill divorced when Alice was still young and Paul was there for him. A solid friendship that evolved into something more. It's a really cute ship and one I can definitely see happen in different timelines.

TIME BASTARDS (Ted Spankoffski x T'noy Karaxis)

"That's a ship ?" was my first reaction upon stumbling on them for the first them. But I definitely see it's appeal and it absolutely grew on me. That Tinky loves his Spankoffskis is not a secret. So, him taking human form in at least one timelines and reaching another level with Ted ? Yeah, that sounds about right.

Ted Spankoffski x Charlotte Sweetley

Again, not a ship I'll necessarily go out of my way to search for but that I am quite fond off. It's clear they care about each other. I love to see it in timelines where Charlotte leave Sam. She makes Ted less off a bastard. He makes her more confident in herself. That's how I see it.

LEXTAN (Lex Foster x Ethan Green)

Yes. They care so much for each other and it breaks my hurt that they'll never be able to go to California together. Ethan is Lex safe heaven and he cares so much for her. He also care so much for Hannah to the point of considering her like his kid. He put himself in danger, and once died, just to protect them. Lex left Hatchefield with Hannah in an attempt to protect him. I just want them to succeed, alright.

TOCKY/BARNSTON (Tom Houston x Becky Barns)

Highschool sweetheart that found each other again, good person wrong moment. They're cute. Again, not a ship I am particularly passionate about, but I do like stumbling upon them from time to time. After what they went through, it is nice to see them being in love with someone again.

Wilbur Cross/Uncle Wiley x Wiggog Y'rath

Another flavor of human and Eldricht abomination ship that I quite like a lot ! They have this big tsundere side to them, at least how I see it, but they're also the embodiment of "assholes in love". I do love a villain power couple.

LAUTSKI (Stephanie Lauter and Peter Spankoffski)

I love these two. She's protective of her nerd and he's so supportive of her. They were both ready to sacrifice themselves for the other and during The Summoning Pete was trying to shield her from a literal God. I love them.

Stephanie Lauter x Grace Chasity

I could swear I remember their ship name... Not one I shipped at first, but they are starting slowly starting to grow on me. I have no particular reasoning as to why, it's really just because of fanfics I've stumbled upon. I like this ship in angsty fic dealing with the aftermath of Nerdy Prudes Must Die (show). I don't know, I like hurt/confort and they provide hurt/confort.

JAGERTITTY (Max Jagerman x Grace Chasity)

That ship name will never fail to make me laugh... I am generally not really found of the whole jock x nice/nerd girl dynamic but they do strike a chord in my heart. Max is so whipped it's adorable. And he's making her reconsider her basically everything. I love them. I would love see them change the other for the better as much as I'd love see them kill people together. I'd read as much fluff as I'd read angst of them. A heavenly good match made in Hell. I love them.

MICHIE (Max Jagerman x Richie Lipschitz)

I will be burned on the public place for this, but I don't ship them. I am really not a fan of jock x nerd like said above and they don't have the same unhingedness that makes me like Jagertity. I don't hate Michie. I can see why the ship is so popular. It simply not for me. Sorry. Though, great respect to you all for making like, a third of the NPMD fics !

Peter Spankoffski x Richie Lipshitz

Two bros being in love. Didn't have the chance to stumble upon them on Ao3, mostly just some stuff here and there on Tumblr. But I do like them. After all, aren't the best romantic relationship also really great friendship?

THE NERDS or THE NERDY PRUDES ( Ruth, Richie and Pete or Ruth, Richie, Pete, Stephanie and Grace)

What I am going to say apply to both. Haven't really read or seen anything on them. But I absolutely love the idea !

[daydreamerdahlia]

So… I got a new hyper fixation, and it’s Trigun, and so of course I made an oc for it😅 honestly definitely one of the better hyper fixations I’ve had, especially since Trigun is in my top 5 favorite anime and I’ve been meaning to read the manga and rewatch the first anime. But as you can probably tell, I have Trigun Stamped to thank for my new obsession. I finally got around to watching all of season 1 and now not only am I deeply craving for season 2, but I’m fascinated by the world and characters and also very inspired, which led to my oc.

introducing, Lucy Lawrence❤️

I’ve always wanted to make a Trigun oc, but I just could never think of anything, especially since I struggle to understand what was going on in the first anime when I watched it for the first time in my pre teens to early teens. But stamped was a lot easier to wrap my head around it, and suddenly I had a clear vision for a design. Fun fact, you guys have no idea how long it took for me to pick a name. But I eventually took inspiration for the naming style Meryl and Roberto had, you know, Robert/Roberto De Niro and Meryl Stryfe/Streep. So I went with Lucy Lawless, but instead Lucy Lawrence.

So anyway, about Lucy. She is the daughter of some of the most brilliant scientists and plant engineers on earth. Lucy had grown up on earth, but when she turned 18, her and her family left on project seed. But unfortunately, during the tragic and disastrous fall, Lucy’s ship broke in half and the half she was on disappeared without a trace. Everyone assumed it must have burned up in the atmosphere or was left out in space, but it turned out it had actually been buried under the sand in the middle of nowhere. Nearly 150 years later after the fall, Lucy wakes up from cryogenic sleep, and was trapped inside the ship for roughly 3 or 5 years. But one day not only was she discovered by people who were attempting to find and dig up the ship and harvest it for parts, but she was also discovered by Vash and his friends. After managing to rescue her, Vash offers to escort Lucy to a new ‘home’(ship 3) where she could feel like she belonged in. But on the journey to July, Lucy and Vash become much more closer than ether of them expected.

Because Lucy had access to lost tech straight from earth, she has a few gadgets she carries around. For starters, a little drone in the shape of an origami bird that could fit in palm of your hands named Dove. Dove was a fun project Lucy and her father worked on together. Anyway the glasses is a way for Lucy to look through the eyes of Dove. And the brooch attached to her jacket is both and a handheld controller and latch to safely hold Dove when shut down.

Anyway Lucy’s parents, Kathrine and James Lawrence, worked close with plants, especially Kathrine. Because of this, it led to an incident that caused a slight mutation. On paper there is nothing different about Lucy, the only difference is she is impressively healthy. But that changes after the fall, which somehow activates something in her, causing her to develop abilities such as empathic powers and slight telepathy. Mainly she starts off sensing things.

The locket was the last gift she had gotten on earth, a farewell gift by her grandparents since they’d be left behind.

And finally as you already see, Vash is her love interest.

Hopefully if I do more art or even fanfiction, I’ll explain more about her. But if you are curious about her, please feel free to ask☺️

[dirty-bosmer]

16, 20, 22

Hi Ray :) Thank you for so many good qs 🤍

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

I currently have three ongoing fics that have been rotating about in the rotisserie oven of my brain, but I'm most excited about continuing my Skyrim fic, Slither and Writhe. It's about Sylawen, my prodigal cringefail necromancer daughter who got booted out of all the universities in Cyrodiil for being too uncool a danger to the student body and is thus forced to slum it in Winterhold. She is the Dragonborn but this is not a novelization of the main quest, rather a story of her avoiding responsibility in favor of sewing up creepy creatures and making everyone's lives worse because of it. She just arrived in Whiterun after being rescued by the Companions, and once I learned that Vilkas and Farkas had been captured by necromancers as kids, I was like 'oh it's over for them.' She is unwittingly going to cause everyone great pain, and maybe it will be a learning moment? Maybe not :)

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Does my inability to relinquish my grasp on Oblivion count as a common pattern 😅 I always go back to that game and my stupid little creatures from it, can't let them go home even though the party is over. Skyrim doesn't speak to me quite the same way idk why D: As far as themes go, I am so predictable. I write about dumb cunts getting dumber and crying about it. Words and phrases will definitely be re-used a lot depending on how recently I discovered them. Sometimes, I'm reading back my fics and feel like that one kid who just learned the word 'apparently.'

22. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

I can't seem to write fluff :( The prologue of Slither and Writhe was my attempt at a cutesy one-shot, but it ended up being about a little girl obsessed with necromancy and growing up to be a social pariah, so we can see how well that went. Also Twu Wuv or like a healthy relationship lol. I enjoy writing romance but only when people are fucked up about it. If there's no angst, obsession, and suffering, my heart just isn't in it </3