#wow a fanfic

[entry-85]

Tangy Delectibility | Vampire!Alex Kralie x Jay Merrick

jaylex | vampire au | 2k words | 16+

this isn't a masterpiece, I literally wrote this in probably an hour but I'm on a jaylex and a writing kick.

vaguely based off of @creative-clawmarks's liveleak au (au on the brain chat)

not really canon correlated.

The apartment was dim, the only light leaking through being the kitchen light some feet away from where they sat, providing just little enough light for Alex’s eyes not to feel like they were burning out of his sockets and just enough for Jay to see him. They sat in mostly silence, so much so you could hear a pin drop into the carpet— Or, at least, Alex could.

His arms were wrapped around Jay’s waist, head tilted slightly up to stare blankly at the barren ceiling of his apartment, trying to ignore how the other male was trying to weasel his way into getting bitten onto. This was just how their relationship was; When exactly it had started he couldn't fully pinpoint, but ever since that first bite, both of them were thoroughly hooked— though Alex refused to admit he was, he didn't rely on Jay’s blood to get by, it was just a treat— It was just something he could look forward to weekly in his boring and frankly irritating life. Jay however, he was completely reliant on the toxin that would seep from Alex’s fangs, psychologically dependent on the effects of it that would render him damn near paralyzed. It wasn't even addictive, yet anyone who saw Jay coming after it every week would probably assume it was. Hell, maybe Jay was just that pathetic.

Alex could feel the boy pushing his head into the crook of his neck, and he couldn't help but let out a low sigh as their skin brushed together. He had been ignoring the others desperate attempts to get his fix, opting to act like nothing was happening courtesy of the pounding headache pressurizing the inside of his skull right now. He could only take so much bright fluorescent lighting, loud garbles of everyone’s overlapping voices, and 3 hours of getting his head slammed with knowledge and things to remember before he had enough, and he had nearly forgotten that Jay was even coming over until he heard the knock at his door because of it. He knew it would be best to just stop stalling, alleviate his pain with his favourite nutrient source and give Jay exactly what he wanted in turn— But God, he was procrastinating. Hard.

“Alex..”

His thoughts were broken apart before he could continue his ridiculous conundrum of being too damn lazy to get what he needed when it was right in front of him by the sound of what he needed right in front of him, eyes finally tearing away from burning holes into the ceiling to glance down at the heap of brown hair at the bottom his vision. Jay’s voice was slightly muffled, shivers being sent down Alex’s spine as his lips brushed against the skin of his neck. Damn tease.

“You okay?” He continued, his voice gradually drawing off into a whine before he pressed a kiss into Alex’s neck. He swore, Jay got on his damn nerves sometimes, but God, everyone did. He didn't think a person walked on this planet that couldn't piss him off at this point.

He let out a sigh he didn't know he had been holding, combing his fingers through the others hair after shifting his eyes away from him. Jay hadn't done anything particularly wrong besides be worried, and needy, he really didn't have any reason to be getting upset at him. God, maybe he did just need to eat— Or, well, drink.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He breathed out in yet another sigh, like the first one hadn’t fully made its escape yet. “Just.. tired.” He excused, his shoulders sagging a little. He wondered if Jay could see right through him, right though his ‘just tired’ umbrella excuse he used to brush off everything. Was he tired? Probably, but he was damn irritated and his head was killing him and he was probably starving by now. He probably could— They’ve known each other for, what, 5 some years now?-

Yet again, his thought train derailed suddenly as he felt a hand press against him right at the bottom of his ribcage. He felt himself jolt, a heat coming to his face that he would rather die than keep feeling— “I know what could make you feel better..”— Filled his ears, the most allusive words said in the meekest of voices. He hated when Jay did that, he knew the other knew what he was doing, saying things like that acting all innocent. He was a hell of a lot more of a string-puller than people gave him credit for, that was for sure. He just couldn’t be patient, could he?-

The slightly shorter male lifted himself from where he was tucked in Alex’s neck, tilting his head in such a way to reveal more skin, skin that was adorned with the light scarring of every other time Alex sunk his teeth in. God, he really needed to be more careful about that, he couldn't just let Jay walk around looking like he got attacked or something—

A hand slid up on his shoulder, fingertips subtly brushing against the fabric of his shirt. Jay’s eyes said it all— He knew what he wanted, he knew what Alex needed, and he knew that they both knew. It made the blond question if he should just give in, if he should have given in hours ago– If he should just stop being stubborn and give his body what it needed, especially since Jay was offering himself so willingly.

“Hungry?” Jay broke their silence, pulling at the collar of his own shirt to show more of his skin, the tendons moving visibly under his flesh and making him all the more appealing. Alex felt his eyes narrow right on the spot he knew gave him the best results, his hunger awakening like a beast stirring from a long sleep. He suddenly wanted nothing more but to lunge at the other, taste the tang of his flavour and—

No, no, he needed to stop himself there. Jay didn't control him and he certainly didn't need his offers. Besides, he should probably just wean off of this whole thing now, before he seriously couldn't control himself anymore. Surely, if he just learned to live without the taste of blood in his mouth, he’d stop having such urges, right? If he caught it early?

“No, I’m fine.” His voice rang out, sterner than he probably intended. He casted his gaze off again, not wanting to feel his own resolve crumble the moment he looked into Jay’s heavy lidded eyes. But even as he avoided eye contact, he could feel the others' stare bore into him. He didn't buy it, but hell, did Alex even believe himself?

“You're always hungry.” He filled the silence, the words making Alex’s lips purse. Yeah, he probably was. There was probably never a moment where he wasn't smelling blood, hearing everyone’s heartbeat over his own that had faded out by now, never a moment where the urge didn't ebb at the back of his mind— But he’d probably tuned it out. Years of doing that with humanly food had prepared him well for becoming an eldritch monster, who would have thought?

He let out a sigh through his nose, weighing his options. Would it make much of a difference if he gave in one last time, as long as he kept himself in check later? Jay was offering, he wanted it just as much as Alex did. What would the harm be? He just wouldn't take as much blood this time..

He casted his gaze over, narrowed eyes staring deep into Jay’s green ones, fighting to not fall over the skin of his neck that his peripheral was honed in on. It would get rid of his headache, that was a benefit, right? It was the only thing that would help, he knew that.. What choice did he have?

“Fine. Just a little.” He grumbled, shifting in his spot on the couch under the bleek weight of Jay. He could have sworn he saw his eyes light up from the corner of his vision, but he casted that thought aside in favour of moving his hands to press flush against Jay’s lower back, pressing him a little closer. Jay moved without a fight, draping his head over Alex’s shoulder to angle the skin of his neck parallel with his teeth. Alex’s eyes bore into exactly where he wanted to bite— The fleshy part right in front of the largest tendon. That part always gave him the best results.

They sat in unmoving silence for a moment, Jay’s breath quietly sounding out as it fanned across Alex’s own neck. He let his hunger build, the pressure soon filling out his gums as his fangs protracted in, pupils dilating while the clawing ache of fervour dug into his being. This is what Jay asked for, and he would give him what he wanted.

After what could only have felt like ages, he leaned forward, wetting the skin with his tongue just to give the briefest of warning before sinking his teeth in, moving with Jay as he tensed. This was a delicate procedure— He wasn't looking to rip his throat out with his teeth, afterall. They just had to keep still for a little longer..

Once he tasted the tangy, copper flavour of liquid seeping past his teeth, he knew he hit the right spot. He retracted them, only to latch right back onto his skin, licking at the blood beading out. He could hear Jay’s hitched breath, feeling the way his throat and chest stuttered each time, but he ignored it to focus instead on the eye-rolling delectability of the others blood, his hands moving to grip his hips to keep him in place.

He could feel Jay’s growing limpness as the toxin worked its magic to fill his mind with haziness, his head dropping down fully onto his shoulder as Alex sucked down the blood until he was sure it would stop pouring. He could feel the pressure in his head ease up, his irritation being smoothed over by the calming balm he was drinking down. When he was satisfied, he moved back, soothing the bite wound with his tongue to numb the pain soon and, hopefully, not leave too big of a scar. Who knew you’d get a free neomycin built into your saliva when you're turned into a beast? Definitely not Alex.

He moved away, his back resting against the couch yet again as he casted his gaze over at the male in his lap, watching as he swayed before falling limp against his chest. He moved a hand up, combing through the back of his hair. “Happy now?” He questioned, his voice now smooth without the migraine and irritation ebbing behind every word. Jay didn't reply anything besides a grunt, but that was all he needed to do. Alex knew the answer, he knew it was a yes, because it was always a yes.

He let his head lean back against the couch as he basked in the newfound relief flooding through his head, the metallic taste still coating the roof of his mouth. He should have just done this hours ago— Maybe he wouldn't have been so pissy the whole time. He continued going through the motions of his “I can't believe I was so stupid” self lecture, unbeknownst to the fact that his talking blood supply was sliding off of his lap until he heard the sound of his knees hitting against the carpeted-over concrete floor. The sound made Alex cringe slightly— He may have built up a higher tolerance now, but he knew good and well what that felt like.

His eyes traced back over to where Jay now sat between his legs on the floor, observing him to see if this was a complete accident or his own doing. It was a valid response, Jay had learned how to navigate the heavy stupor of the toxin by now, and he had interesting desires and even more interesting ways of going about getting them. Alex learned over the years not to question it, and he especially didn't now when he felt the pressure of Jay’s head resting against his stomach, eyes closed and body heavy. He stayed still for just another beat of silence, before lacing his fingers back through the others hair, letting him stay there for the time being. Both of them were satisfied, and he was sure both of them were content with being sat in comfortable silence instead of the usual tension.

He just had to hold back from doing this next time. Or, maybe the time after that instead..

[shouyuus]

psst.. you didn't hear this from me, but competitive 69 with vi

ok bye!!

ride

violet; smutty smut smut, continuation of this drabble; carmech!vi au

vi thinks this might be on her list of top ten things she's ever done in her life -- licking a thick strip up your cunt as you grind down into her mouth, your lips wrapped around her throbbing clit as she works her hips up into you -- it's rough and it's messy and she can't quite breathe for the way you're riding her face in the back seat of her car, your skirt hem hitting just above the bend of your ass, the windows slowly glazing over with condensation.

"f-fuck, sweet girl --" her voice comes out muffled and there's slick washing down her chin, but she doesn't care, her fingers inking themselves into the plump flesh of your cheeks as she works you down over her.

your own pitched moans thrum from your mouth right into her cunt, and vi can't help the way her whole body clenches when she feels you reach forward to hook your middle finger into her pussy.

"g-g'na come f-first? h-hah -- ah --!" your hips jerk almost violently as vi leans up to shove her tongue into your hole, working a thumb along your clit. she moans loud and long, a palm soothing against your thigh as they shake above her.

"mm -- not -- not a chance -- fuck -- shit, ah... that's --" vi's head tips back as she feels you fuck another finger into her, the tip of your tongue working circles around her clit just the way she likes. you pull off with a tiny pop before turning your head and nipping at her inner thigh, making her stomach twist.

"that -- that's not -- fair --" she chokes out as you start to pummel into her cunt with your fingers, laving your tongue along the tender skin of her thigh. she feels you grin half a second before her head drops back at the feeling of your lips back on her, sucking and licking in alternate, making her back arch beneath you.

she yanks your ass back down, if only to sate her own hunger, slake her own thirst -- there's a savage greediness in her, one that can only be satisfied by the taste of you, the sweet, salty tang, mixed with the smell of your skin, something like coconut or vanilla.

she thinks she could get drunk on this taste alone, to the feeling of your body over hers, eating you out, harsh and needy, rucking up into you as you do her -- all the while pulled into a rest stop by the side of the highway, where, if anyone got curious enough about the pristine vintage pontiac double-parked along the far side of the lot, they could come over and see.

"oh -- oh -- please vi -- f-fuck --!" she feels you twitch against her mouth, but the next second, her vision blurs as she feels your teeth skim along her clit.

"holy fuck --!"

her orgasm punches through her with no warning, her whole body going rigid beneath you as she cums against your mouth and you lick her through it, slow languid licks till she's jerking, hissing out, patting your ass --

"fuck fuck -- fuck wait -- stop -- it's t-too -- too much --"

she feels you giggle more so than she hears it, feels the vibration against her chest as you wiggle your butt in her face before pulling away. a second later, you're grinning down at her, your face an absolute mess, your lips and chin smeared in her cum, the round of your cheeks dark with color.

vi lets out a helpless laugh, reaching up to brush away a few errant strands of hair, her eyes going soft as she tugs you down for a long kiss. she groans at the taste of herself on your tongue, smiling at the way you whine, sinking into her embrace.

"yeah? like the way we taste in each other's mouths, princess?"

you bury your face in her neck, mumbling something, fingers curling in the front of her shirt. vi chuckles, shaking her head.

"how's that the thing that gets you, but you're perfectly okay to competatively sixty-nine on the side of the road?"

"i-i don't know! it's just -- it's different," you say, your face still tucked into her shoulder. she runs a hand along your spine, soothing down our back till you finally pull back to look at her.

"well..." vi sighs, cupping your cheek, "you did win fair and square..."

you smile is summer-sun-bright.

"yep! so... i get to be passenger princess for the rest of the trip!" you chirrup, only to yelp as vi yanks you back down.

"yeah, yeah... but --" vi digs her fingers into the back of your neck, revels in the way your lashes flutter at the pressure, "you didn't get to cum yet."

the change is immediate, your eyes going wide, going dark, another delicious wash of color kissing into your cheeks, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

"b-but the competition --" you stutter.

vi leans up to kiss you, groaning into your mouth.

"right... i came first but... we never said the loser couldn't cum too, right? now get up here --" she lays back, inching down till she's flat on the back seat again, "and take a seat."

she smirks, gesturing to her face.

you crinkle your nose and stare at her for a second before scrambling up. vi puffs out a laugh against your thigh, giving you a sweet kiss before tugging you to sit down proper. you gasp, a hand coming up to steady yourself against the fogged up window-pane.

as you keen above her, vi thinks that yeah, even if this isn't one of the top ten best things she's ever done in her life, at the very least, it'll be one of the best long-haul rides she's ever taken.

[aeraminth]

nsfw— zayne who can’t help but praise you the first time you two are intimate. his hands trace the curve of your breasts and his broken sigh gives him away, his gaze never leaving as he cups your tits and you squirm in his lap. “such a pretty girl,” he coos, and his fingers trail down to where you need him most. “so perfect for me,” and he’s sliding two fingers in, committing your scrunched up expression and breathy whine to memory. and when he curls his fingers and rubs your clit, he tells you “look at you, taking my fingers so well—hm? does it feel good, love? should i keep going?” you enthusiastically respond, begging for the feeling of his cock deep inside, and he unravels at the seams. “so needy, hm?” he would tease, even though he rushes to line himself up with your glistening folds, a ragged breath escaping him as he runs the head of his length in your arousal. “so, so wet, and just for me…” he’s so lost in the way you feel that it takes you grabbing his wrist and pleading with him for zayne to realize how long he’s kept you waiting. your eyes, with tears pricking at the corner from desperation staring back at him as you try to move your hips, whines and whimpers falling from your lips with reckless abandon. “don’t worry, baby, i got you,” he murmurs, sliding into your tight heat, his eyes knitting shut from the pure pleasure of your warm walls clamping down, sucking him in and never letting go—he could die happy, enveloped by your heat and blessed by the sounds of a long, drawn out moan from your lips. and you’re not faring much better, with every bit of imagery being put to shame with how good the stretch is, how his cock pulses with need in your pussy and how hard he grips your waist to stop himself from losing control. “m-move-hhngh-zayne..” you mumble, delirious from the feeling, and he snaps, pulling out only to fill you up to the brim. he chases his high, driven by lust as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “d-dirty girl—fuck! taking me so well, hmm? ahh- shit— you feel so good around me—mm—squeezing me..” and all you can do is clench around his cock, his words making your mind go blank. zayne plunges deeper and deeper, hitting the spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars, babbling how you need him to come inside of you. “please, please zayne, i’m so close—!” and he reaches down, rubbing quick circles into your bundle of nerves in a chase to see you come undone. your hips jerk with the added stimulation to your clit, squirming even more as he pins you down and fucks you even faster, only stilling when he feels you squeeze around him impossibly tighter. your release washes over you, leaving your skin warm and your mind hazy. zayne’s no better, emptying himself and coating your walls white when you tell him to come inside, and his shallow thrusts make you shove at his chest, feeling overstimulated. he can’t help it though, the sound and sight of where you connect puts him in a frenzy, where he can’t find himself to stop even when it becomes to much. “z-zayne—‘ts too much!” but he needs to see you cream his cock one more time, and he’s not stopping until you’re both spent.

“the first time i’ve ever seen you like this,” he comments, his voice barely over a whisper. his finger swipes up and down your damp folds, playing with the cum that oozes on to his finger, “but not the last. never.”

[somerandomcockroach]

OKAY, ahah, have been rotating for some time ideas for the house in Snow bots au by Keferon, and after saw that half of characters are staff and so on I finally gave up. There are inside place for medics, separate home to live in for the staff (like constructicons) on the left side, where staff cars can stop in the garage all other cars stop in front. On the other side also livable houses + hot pool. Separate houses for warehouse and electricity. Separated houses to live in that are a bit in far in case someone doesn't like the hustle.

I wanted to doodle it out also because wanted to imagine how they can do crazy stuff more visibly, like sliding off the roof and falling down all these floors, breaking electricity, playing some kind of hide and seek, guessing who in which room stayed, coming together late at night on the first floor, getting into each other's room through balcony pffht

[mooniel]

erik finding out that charles felt the coin going through his head has got to be one of my favorite fanfic genres

[zephyrchama]

(Based off of the Birthday Stayover Devilgram)

"So, Barbatos isn't here?" you asked. It was hard to believe the butler would willingly agree to stay with the brothers for so long. You wondered where exactly he would be sleeping in the House of Lamentation for three whole days, and wondered if you should have tidied up your room before leaving.

"That's correct. The entire palace is empty except for us." Diavolo looked proud and giddy. His devilish grin stretched from ear to ear. "We can make all the noise we want, in any room we want, and no one will disturb us. You know what this means?"

You thought you knew where this spiel was heading. "Yes."

"I knew you would." Diavolo put his hand on your shoulder. From that moment on, you were partners. "We can finally slide down the railing instead of walking down the stairs. We can do this for three whole days and nobody's going to scold us."

[caffichai]

Mousse has had a lot on her plate, even before arriving at Rhodes Island. How'd she end up taking on even more as a combat operator? Read my first ever fanfic to find out, if you dare!

[pedrasacorn]

Friends don’t do what we do

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Authors note: this is my first time ever doing something like this, I’m not a writer by conventional means but I could not leave you all hanging after blowing up my blurb

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“That’s a nice jacket.” Your greedy gaze takes in the leather comfortably draping his body.

He eyes you carefully, “Thanks.”

“You got candy in there?” You grin up at him.

“Sweetheart, ask for what you really want.” You hate the way he’s able to coax you into yourself, grounding you with the idea that he’s not like eveyone else. He doesn’t flinch at your forwardness.

“Can I…explore your pockets a bit..?”

You aren’t snoopy by nature (yes you are) , but the desire to more about him drew you into asking this absurd question.

He leans closer to you on the couch, offering his pocket. He carefully takes in the details of your face. You’d wilt under anyone else’s scrutiny, but his attention lacks judgment.

Tentatively you reach in.

He feels your hand digging around. This is the only way he can stomach letting you touch him, between a layer of thick fabric…it feels nice.

“Massive pockets. You carry your bike in here?”

Your heart leaps at the way his laugh softens his voice, “Yeah sweets sometimes I put ‘er in there.”

Your hand wraps around cool metal, heavy in your palm as you lift it into the light of the room.

A pocket knife.

“Oh.” Your eyes gleam dangerously, “You stab someone with this before?” You pop open the blade, checking for blood, before he gently confiscates it, clicking it closed.

“A stab from this’d be a paper cut.” He lifts it away from your reaching hands.

“Then what do you have it for?” He gives you a wry smile, “Has no one taught you anything about—” he pulls his hand away as you reach for it, “—survival?”

“Mmm…not really, no.” You quip. Whether or not it’s sarcasm, he mentally adds to the list of things he needs to teach you.

You reach in again, pulling out a folded piece of paper, you carefully un-crumple it, glancing up at him briefly, waiting to see if he stops you. He only holds your gaze. “Nothing juicy huh?” Your eyes scan a grocery list.

Oh Ho Ho. “Pomegranates?”

“They’re in season…” he murmurs as you read on.

“You put C4 on your grocery list?”

His brows scrunch confusedly, your gasp interrupts his rebuttal, “Chloroform?!” He rips the paper out of your hands, and double checks the list. Bread, chips, peanut butter, mozzarella, eggs, etc.

He sighs, “You don’t buy chloroform at the grocery store, you make it.”

“How?” He gives you a disapproving look, you return it with a grin of your own as you reach in again.

“Shiny…” The three bullets are weighty, all smooth, and cold in your palm.

You let him confiscate those, reveling in his gentleness, and the contrast of his warm, rough fingers. His nearly somber expression catches you off guard, like a cold breeze through a sweater meant to keep you warm. The bullets are a heavier weight, in his hand.

“You’re worse than a crow.” He mutters.

You reach in again, “…my hair tie.”

“Mh.” His noncommittal answer soothes your poorly concealed nerves. What needn’t be said, or brought to the light; whatever this was between you.

He confiscates yet another item from your palm, pulling it on his wrist. “This is mine too.”

[bambooswordwielder]

Obsessed with the fact that Shen Yuan only transmigrates when all the Peaklords have settled into their positions for a few years because the idea of Shang Qinghua being stuck watching Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge arguing for nth time about some budget detail that is DEFINITELY getting overblown now and just being stuck thinking

"Damn this would've been such a good enemies to lovers plot line... Imagine how much I could've made off of them..." and regretting not monetising their rivalry more before he killed off Liu Qingge ( "Oh and the angst Shen Qingqiu would've faced after his secret lover died and everyone blamed him for it! Fans would've been begging for more extras!" 🐹💔)

Like all the peaklords are desperately trying to mediate and fix the situation and Shang Qinghua is just imagining his one hundredth Fix-It Fic/AU where Shen Jiu is the King's trusted scholar and Liu Qingge is the King's personal bodyguard

Everyone thinks when a single tear falls from Shang Qinghua's eyes its because during Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu's fight they destroyed both his newly drafted budget (for the fifth time that month) and the fact they also destroyed the table (for the third time that week and the week just started)

Reality is Shang Qinghua is crying because he thought of an angsty death scene for the two Romeo and Juliet style because both their families couldn't accept them being together

Years of this pass and at some point he even picks up writing again (specifically about characters clearly based on Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge) and he gets really popular, popular enough his novels start to flood all of Cang Qiong and even Liu Mingyan takes some inspiration from them

Everyone knows damn well that the characters are clearly meant to be Peaklord Shen and Peaklord Liu, but no one tells because they all are legitimately waiting for the next volume of "Battle-to-your-poisonous-heart-and-peaches"

Does everyone know it's Shang Qinghua... Noooo.. Would anyone admit if they did know.... No.

Then all the sudden on day Shen Qingqiu suddenly looked in the dictionary and discovered what the word 'nice' is and now he doesn't abuse his students 🐹🤯

He even let himself get poisoned and potentially ruined his cultivation for life for Luo Binghe of all people!? Um excuse Airplane Logic, but the MC is supposed to only get all the good stuff AFTER he falls into the abyss!

And what's this about Liu Qingge helping to 'clear' his meridians so he has to personally visit Qing Jing peak every week?? Def something is off, an author knows fishy when he sees it

For how many years Shang Qinghua is stuck watching these two do their whole "You're my precious Shidi" and "I'll always be here for you" act and he's just stuck eating dogfood wondering when exactly is the marriage extra coming in and why the System won't tell me why Shen Qingqiu is acting all happy go lucky now

Shang Qinghua notices Shen Qingqiu talking to Yue Qingyuan more, he notices Qing Jing disciples running straight to Shen Qingqiu with joy and excitement rather than the reserved fear they had before, he notices how Shen Qingqiu only glares at him twice every meeting than before!

Maybe this isn't his version of PIDW, maybe it's a fan made version where Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu fall in love and with the power of love and friendship Shen Qingqiu learns to be kind and to care and isn't going to cause Luo Binghe to go down his dark path and maybe they can all have a happyily ever after—

*Endless Abyss Arc*

"Oh fuck–"

[Before Endless Abyss Arc]

*Shang Qinghua watching from a distance as Luo Binghe is practically clinging to Shen Qingqiu's side. Shen Qingqiu pats Luo Binghe's head and Luo Binghe does THAT smile he only does for his wives*

"Well this is an interesting fanfic..."

[After Airplane Reveal]

"Wait... So you're actually a transmigrater as well, Cucumber-Bro?"

"Yeah, and?"

"..."

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Do you hate, or have you at least at some point hated, Liu Qingge?"

"I– No–Wait what???"

"Let me reword it. Have you ever considered murdering him at one point?"

"WHYAREYOUASKINGMETHESEQUESTIONS!? YOUKNOWWHATHAPPENEDTOSHENJIU! IMNOTRISKINGHISFATE!"

"... So I'll take that as a no."

"OBVIOUSLY!?"

"So it's just a normal Friends to lovers 😮‍💨 No flavour 🙄"

Shang Qinghua was then brutally attacked.

[During the Five Years SY was dead]

*Shang Qinghua watching Liu Qingge go every single day to fight Luo Binghe for Shen Qingqiu's body*

"Oh my Airplane.... It's not a enemies-to-lovers... It's not Teacher X Disciple... It's a bloody love triangle with both! Oh how much money this plot would've made me 💔 I would've been able to pay for four months worth of rent and groceries!"

Random Disciple visiting An Ding: "Um.... Is Shang-Shibo okay? He fell on the ground?"

An Ding Disciple: "Leave him. He does that sometimes. Now about your budget request..."

*Shang Qinghua screaming in the background*

Random Disciple: "..."

An Ding Disciple: "..."

Random Disciple: "Should we check on–"

An Ding Disciple, now dragging other disciple away: "Let's settle this at your peak."

Years later when Bingqiu have already had their wedding and everyone has become somewhat tolerant of their relationship, Shang Qinghua just sighs loudly and Shen Yuan asks him what's up. Shang Qinghua looks him in the eyes and just shakes his head.

"My ship...💔"

"..."

"OW– Why did you have go hit me on the head!?"

"Because I don't want to know what's going on in there and I need to make sure what's in there stays in there."

[inkyrainstorms]

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face YOU. This. Woe be upon ye *casts animation on your fic*

they break my heart man <\3 I simply had to

[sheikfangirl]

"If you want to rescue Zelda, come to my castle!"

This scene always gives me goosebumps 😭

That Sheik plot twist!!!! (Im not Sheik's fangirl for nothing by the way) Zelink have this emotional reunion and are separated immediately! THE DRAMA!!

I'll never be over that game. NEVER! OoT Zelink, my beloved 💕

(Btw I HATE shading gems and crystals 😂😭)

[rednightmare18]

It's not even about the vindication of calling a ship, okay. It's that the supposedly anti woke studio wrote about 3 million words of medieval fiction centering the relationship of the two main characters who are in most ways (or in all ways if you follow the obvious canon momentum of the story) meant for each other, as counterparts who help each other survive the great travails of their lives and who challenge/complete the other to become fuller, braver, kinder people. It's so clear these two people are soulmates, platonically or romantically, something observed consistently by the world around them and by themselves.

Except their society (feudalism, Catholicism) dictates that they are intended to be completely incompatible by nature and divine law. Not just for the obvious fact they are both men, but they are separated by what is arguably an even steeper chasm of social class. Their existence even as friends utterly spites, interrupts, and threatens feudal order right down to its theological and philosophical roots. They should not see each other as human and yet.

It's the fact that they do. The fact that the entire story has been about this--that these two protagonists fit together, undeniably, and grow to love each other fiercely (a love that deepens superbly from their knee-jerk playful puppy-friend-love in kcd1 to something selfless and mature by the end of kcd2). And they do so despite the immense opposition by their world, their social circles, their faith, and indeed their fandom.

And yes, it really does fucking matter that all of this culminates into a deep onscreen romantic love (if you get out of the way and allow it to) between two fandom-beloved male main characters (not just side characters rammed in for an optional gay romance but THE main characters of the duology; the "you" as in the player character and your erstwhile dick-jokes bro you have perhaps grudgingly at first been invited as the audience to love) in a historical fiction story that has been wrongly touted by the worst of our contemporaries as the holy grail of cultural conservatism.

Holy shit. Warhorse -- y'all. I'm sorry I doubted you. So few game writers understand how love works and indeed how people work, let alone translate it so well onto the screen.

Calling this an "optional romance" is not technically incorrect, I suppose, because it's true you can opt out and choose to remain platonic friends. But this language feels like a disservice, as if Henry & Hans's romance is a typical RPG wham-bam fanservice makeout with a minor fan fave character who never interacts meaningfully with the player again. Or as if it's a Bioware-style "give this NPC the right gift and do their side quest and you get to see a jankly ugly-bumpin' montage" situation.

Kingdom Come: Deliverance is so very much not that. The "main, optional" romance scene in question is just one consummation event of two people who have been growing up and falling in love in front of us over the course of some 200-300 (or god knows how many) hours. The fact these protagonists openly love each other is very much not optional.

This is, sincerely, groundbreaking storytelling in this medium and this genre. How fucking cool that we all got to see it now.

[shouyuus]

sfw; in which popstar!reader buys vi some jackets

─── Ⅵ THE STORE IS CHIC, sharp collection of white-cut marble and black leather, the clothing racks all uniformly hung from the ceilings with industrial metal piping, the hangers themselves cast in thick, transparent acrylic.

"hello! welcome to our -- oh --"

you give the wide-eyed store clerk a camera-ready smile, tugging vi along behind you, fingers laced, even as she stares at the pristine store front with a mute incomprehension, as if she can't quite wrap her head around where the hell this is and what exactly you're doing there.

"hi! we're here to look at some jackets," you say loftily, casting vi a glance before nudging her forward. her head swivels towards you, an expression of incredulity eclipsing her shock as she registers your words.

"o-of course! and i just have to say -- i'm a huge fan --" the store clerk adjusts her sleek black-rimmed glasses, her hands clasped in front of her chest as you giggle, pursing your lips with an almost demure smile.

"aww... thanks!" but you leave it at that, turning back towards vi, giving her hand a squeeze, "you said you wanted a new jacket, right?"

"yeah..." vi answers slowly, still looking around as if she's not sure what that has to do with anything. a moment later, she turns back to you.

"so... let's look at some jackets!" you smile brightly before turning the full force of your charm back towards the store clerk, who nearly trips over herself trying to show the pair of you the season's latest designs.

vi follows behind you as if in a daze, barely registering the words the clerk is saying before she asks a question and you turn, waiting for vi to answer.

"uh... sorry, what?"

the clerk smiles and repeats, "was there any particular style you were interested in seeing today?"

vi blinks, her gaze flickering to you for a second before slingshotting back to the clerk, "no?"

"alright then..." the clerk licks her lips, "then shall i pull some pieces for you to try? and then maybe we'll see what you like from there?"

you nod, swinging yours and vi's hands between you, "anything cropped is good -- but a good quality leather. oh! and these studs are nice too --" you run a hand along a jacket with a row of silver studs along the collar.

"oh yes! and we have a few sample pieces from the next collection upstairs -- i can grab them for you --" the clerk scurries off, pulling a few things from the racks, disappearing into a room in the back, leaving you and vi alone in the cavernous shop.

vi bites her lips.

"you -- you don't have to do this for me."

you cock your head, "sure. but i want to. like i said, someone's gotta spoil you rotten."

vi's lips twitch before she breaks into a lopsided grin, her expression softening as she tugs you in to press a kiss to your cheek.

"i put a few in the fitting room for you," the clerk comes back, her cheeks flushed as she looks between you and vi, motioning towards the back. you give vi a tiny nudge before following along, running your fingers lightly over the silken sleeves of a white shirt.

but when vi slips on the first jacket, you can see the change it wrights in her almost immediately -- the way her shoulders pull back, her eyebrows shooting up as she looks herself over in the mirror, her toned stomach flexing as she grins at you from her reflection.

"whoa. this is nice."

you settle into a large chaise lounge tucked against the wall of the changing room, nodding as you drink in the view. and what a view it is. you'll never quite get over how startlingly attractive vi is -- her body a shrine to her strength, the delicacy of her features off-set by the sturdiness of her form.

and really, leather looks good on her. you lick your lips, clearing your throat as you tear your gaze away from the way the jacket hugs her biceps and cuts just above the bend of her waist, showing off her figure.

"yep! and they source only the highest quality leather, so it'll only get softer over time."

vi rubs her thumbs over the buttery material of the sleeves, looking over the silver detailing at the cuffs, the weight of the zipper that runs up the front.

"yeah... it feels... really good."

she frowns down at the price tag, and a second later, lets out a choked noise as she scrambles to take the jacket off.

"holy shit -- that's -- that's more zero's than i've ever seen in my entire life!"

you sigh, pushing up out of the chair and coming up behind vi to tug the jacket back onto her shoulders, turning her back towards the mirror. she frowns at you from the reflected image, her shoulders hunched up, her jaw locked tight.

"vi. don't think about the price, just... tell me if you like it."

vi sighs, crinkling her nose as she looks herself over.

"yeah, i do but --"

you shake your head, "then that's all i need to know!"

she chews on her bottom lip, her cheeks darkening beneath her scatter of freckles. she puffs out a helpless breath.

"it's just... it'll be the nicest thing anyone's ever given to me and --"

"then i'll get you something nicer, and then something nicer after that," you smile at her, tugging her around so you can push up to kiss her. she melts into your touch, a soft groan vibrating against your lips as your fingers dig into the soft leather lapel of the jacket.

you pull back, grinning cheshire-wide as you lilt your head, catching the fractured, wanting look in her eyes as she smiles down at you.

a soft knock comes at the door.

"how're things going in there? we have other sizes as well if things aren't fitting correctly."

you bite back a laugh as vi shrugs, mouthing a soft oops as the pair of you turn back to the suit of jackets hung up still for vi to try.

"we're good!" you sing-song, even as vi crinkles her nose and tugs off the first jacket to try on the next.

after a good thirty minutes of trying on all the jackets, of posing and vi pulling steadily more ridiculous poses just to make you laugh, she's caught between two -- one in plain black, and the other with a flurry of red-velvet patches, the sleeves and collar silver-studded.

you push open the door of the changing room and point at the two jackets.

"we'll take both."

"amazing!" the clerk claps, reaching out to take the hangers but vi jerks them back.

"wait -- what? i thought we were just getting one?"

you shrug, "you like them both. so we'll get both."

"b-but --" she sputters, fingers going slack as you tug the jackets from her and press them firmly into the store clerk's hands. she looks between the pair of you for a second longer before turning to ring both items up at the cash register.

"i don't need both jackets --"

you sigh, shaking your head, "and i don't need 37 pairs of heels either, but that's not the point here, is it?"

vi pauses, "you have 37 pairs of heels?"

"mm. just the pink ones." she flash her cheeky grin, turning back to the clerk and tugging a tiny cheque-book from your bag. you scribble something on a slip of pink parchment before tearing it out and pushing it towards her.

"send a pneuma-tube to the vault-keeper there. he'll settle up the payment for you."

"just the pink -- where'dyou even keep them? i've never seen --"

you cut her off with a daring look, "one of these days, i'll show you my closet floor. and it will be an adventure indeed, i promise." you turn back to the clerk with a gracious grin as she hands over a large bag with vi's new jackets.

"wait, how much --"

but you cut vi off by pressing the large bag into her chest.

"not nearly as much as i'd like to spend on you in the next place."

"the next place?" vi sputters, letting you shepherd her from the store, you tossing a quick wave over your should at the store clerk, who seems to be furiously texting on her phone.

you let out a dramatic grown, "come on vi, did you really think we'd stop after hitting just one shop? it's called a shopping spree for a reason. now -- lets get you some new pants -- there's a store down here that does custom fittings --"

"wait, princess."

you allow yourself to be tugged back, pausing to stare at her, the way she seems caught between two opposing urges. you sigh, placing your palms flat on her chest; her hand (the one not holding the shopping bag) settles at the bend of your waist like it's second nature.

"what?"

"it's just --" she chews over her words, and you can see the doubt flickering behind her eyes, hear the uncertainty laced like stitches between the spaces of all her words, "i -- i'm not used to this -- it's -- don't get me wrong, princess, i'm flattered you want to spoil me but... it's all just... so much. and i don't... i don't know if i deserve it."

her voice trails off into softer and softer words until she's almost mumbling. and it takes you a second to parse them out. but when you do, you're the one that cups her cheeks between your palms, giving them a tiny squeeze.

"violet, look at me."

she lifts her gaze to meet yours and not for the first time, she feels her breath still inside her chest at the way you're looking at her. like she's someone you've waited for for lifetimes. like a sailor might look at lost treasure -- something to be searched for across the breadth of entire oceans.

"you deserve all this and more. and i know you're not used to it... so we can take it slow if you want. maybe we can cap the shopping trip here and go get something to eat -- or just go window-shopping or something like that. but... i've always thought... that people like us -- people who grew up without the nice, expensive things can appreciate them more, right? you don't know how truly luxurious silk sheets feel on your skin if you hadn't slept in a mix-match quilt made from old window curtains. and champagne tastes that much better when you grew up on shitty beer --"

"hey, i happen to love shitty beer."

but vi's smiling, and so are you, mirroring her grin back up at her as she takes a breath and you feel her shoulders loosen.

"i know. i'm not saying that you have to let go of shitty beer," you say, rolling your eyes, giggling as vi leans down to bump your nose with hers, "i'm just asking you to let yourself be pampered occasionally."

"with insanely expensive clothes and champagne?"

"yes," you nod, laughing as she grazes her lips over yours, tugging you closer as you try to squirm away, "you don't have to toss out all your old clothes. we're just adding some nicer, new ones."

"fine, fine," she lets out an exaggerated breath before planting a soft kiss on your forehead, "thanks for the jackets, princess. they're really... really nice."

you tug playfully on a longer strand of her hair, twisting the end around one of your fingers.

"and you look really, really nice in them. so, it's a win for us both."

vi's grin goes crooked as she hikes an eyebrow.

"oh yeah? wanna tell me more about how good i looked in them?"

you lick your lips, "maybe later. after dinner tonight. i made reservations at my favorite place."

vi blinks, and for a second, you think she's going to protest again. then, she softens, her voice low and sweet as she reaches down to lace your fingers once more.

"yeah? and is there champagne at this favorite place of yours?"

"yep," you say, letting your lips pop over the 'p', turning down the street towards your next destination. you shoot her a glance and a cheeky smile over your shoulder.

"but don't worry. i'm sure they'll source you shitty beer if you ask very, very nicely."

[lechrts]

uconn winning the natty made this idea come to mind lol!! 😭 paige is constantly wearing that net, so i was wondering if i could request a paige x fem reader imagine where they celebrate her win, and paige fucks her with that net on !

Hold Me Down. ✷ Paige Bueckers

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Gf!reader

Summary: When you tease Paige because she will probably have to be surgically removed from that damn championship game net.

Word Count: 1k

Disclaimer/s: thank u for the request but i don’t do smut :’) so there’s NONE !!!! but there’s some kissing , suggestive stuff , and it implies it , but i just personally don’t write the actual, u know. i’m sorry!!! u got the wrong girl lowk 💔

Vera’s Voice! that stupid net i swear.. i was gonna write something regarding the net and then i got this request but then also , again , i do not write smut :’) Unless I change my mind one day. but yk. hope u enjoooyyy!!

You spot her amidst the madness, and for a moment, the world feels like it slows down. The afterparty is a blur of laughter and celebration, but all you can focus on is Paige.

She’s the center of it all, surrounded by teammates, friends, and a few overenthusiastic fans, but she stands out in the best way.

Her cheeks are flushed from the adrenaline of the game, and she’s still wearing that damn net—the one that’s somehow managed to stay around her neck since the ceremonial hoop cut.

Like it was a crown she’s earned, swinging back and forth with every sliver of movement made.

You leaned against a wall, watching her for a second. She looks like everything she’s ever dreamed of.

And yet somehow, she still looks at you like you’re the prize.

When she finally makes her way over, she doesn’t say anything right away.

Just grins, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling—and wraps her arms around you like the buzzer just went off again.

And of course, that net smacks you right in the face.

“Jesus,” You laugh, peeling it away and letting it flop against her chest. “Just not gonna take this thing off, I’m assuming?”

She pulls back just far enough to look at you, her hands finding your waist before she grins wider. “Earned it.”

“Planning to sleep in it too?”

“Maybe,” She says, shrugging, cocky as ever. “You got a problem with that?”

“Not necessarily,” You say, dragging out the words. “Just didn’t realize I was also dating the net.”

Paige’s laugh comes out breathless, her chest rising and falling with the quickness of her breath.

She leans in, her lips almost brushing yours, but at the last second, she pulls back just enough so she’s hovering next to your ear.

You can feel her breath against your skin, making you shiver.

“You’re lucky I love you,” She murmurs, her voice low, almost a growl.

You let out a soft laugh, feeling the heat in your chest intensifying.

You reach up, your fingers brushing the edges of the net still tangled around her neck, and without thinking, you tug it toward you.

She stumbles slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she follows your lead, her eyes darkening with an unspoken challenge.

You pull her in until your lips are barely an inch apart, and she’s staring at you, her chest pressed against yours.

You can feel her heart pounding, just like yours.

The tension between you two is suffocating, electric.

And in that moment, you do the only thing that feels right.. so you kiss her.

It’s not soft or slow. It’s urgent, messy, and full of everything you both want but can’t say aloud. Her lips are warm and familiar, but they’re hungry, too, moving against yours with that desperate need that’s been building all night.

Her hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, her fingers digging into your skin.

You tug at the net, the rough edges of it brushing your fingers as it shifts between you both, but neither of you care.

The net is forgotten in the heat of the kiss, just another piece of fabric caught in the fire.

When you finally pull back, her eyes are dark with something too heated to ignore.

Her lips are red and swollen, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

She doesn’t break the eye contact, doesn’t look away.

There’s no mistaking it now.

“Guess this thing is useful in some ways.” You mutter under your breath, and Paige just grins.

She leans forward, her lips brushing your ear, voice barely above a whisper, thick with promise.

“You keep making fun of the net like I won’t use it to shut you up later,” She says, each word dripping with temptation.

The words hang in the air between you, too heavy, too loaded.

“You’re so full of yourself.” You scoff.

“I’m a national champion, can you blame me?”

You can’t stop the shiver that runs down your spine, or the way your heart beats faster with the thought of her taking control.

Paige looks down at the net, her fingers playing with the frayed edges before meeting your eyes again. Without warning, she pulls it off her neck and drapes it over yours, the weight of it suddenly feeling very different.

“Think I like it better on you,” She says, the words playful, but with an edge to them.

She steps back, taking in the way the net hangs loosely around your neck, before her eyes meet yours again.

You both stand there for a moment, the world around you fading out.

There’s no sound anymore, just the tension crackling in the space between you.

She tilts her head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, her eyes filled with that glint of something dangerous. “Meet me in the room in five minutes,” She murmurs.

“And only wear the net.”

Without waiting for a response, she turns and walks away, her movements graceful, confident.

You stand there for a second, staring after her, feeling the heat rise in your chest.

Five minutes.

Oh fuck.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list!!!!

tags! @halfwayhearted @pedriache @wdcbox @janaelalfysblunt @hellokittyfeenie

[highdramas]

soft descent | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

warnings: language, age gap (reader is 30, abbot is 48), SMUT! (MDNI!), character death (off page prior to fic beginning), zombie apocalypse typical gore and violence

word count: 5588

summary: (zombie apocalypse au) the emergency team did everything you could to save PTMC when a new virus brought on the undead, but it simply wasn't enough. so, you set out for where you may be useful-- fort knox. you find something to live for as you do in the first month of the apocalypse.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. you guysssss i am SO proud of this one! this is definitely the longest fic that i've ever written! it's romantic and sad and tender and sexyyyy! i'm heavily inspired by the first two seasons of the walking dead <3 this is really to give back story for some interconnected one shots in the soft descent series, so if you have requests, PLEASE i would love them <3

--

if there was anyone that you felt was capable of walking by your side through the end of the world, you think that dr. jack abbot is the one.

it’s not just that he’s capable– it’s more than that. you think that he’s built for this new life, in a way that you aren’t. he thinks with more practicality than you’ve ever been able to muster. you’d worked with him for years and barely knew him. you knew that he was intense. you knew that he could pin you down with a look that you would think about for weeks. you knew that his praise meant the world to you and that when you could feel the weight of his disappointment, you wanted to shuck it off instantly. you knew that he was a veteran and that it colored every part of his life and his work. you knew that he felt deeply for every person that he could not save. well, you didn’t know that. but you felt it.

and jack, as good as he is, could not save the pittsburgh trauma medical center.

it started with one or two sick patients. it ended three days later with the majority of the staff dead in the span of one shift.

and when it was becoming clear that there was no way out, no way to save everyone, no way to heal those who had been scratched or bitten… you all should’ve heeded the warning that had gone out days prior. leave the city. but he hadn’t. none of you had, because you felt the obligation to this city and this work and saving as many lives as possible.

it was a ragtag group of you that left PTMC that night. the roads were full of abandoned cars, so there was no choice but to go by foot. you. robby and abbot. dana. collins. langdon. samira. about six nurses. but there was so many you couldn’t save– their faces flash behind your eyes when you lay down to sleep at night. mel. whitaker. javadi. mckay. you’re still not over mckay. you don’t know if you ever will be.

you packed up all of the medical supplies that you could under the circumstances and began towards fort knox. having spent three days by foot, aiming for 25 miles each day, but at the same time stopping and gathering supplies wherever and whenever you can… you feel a level of exhaustion that beats out even a double in the pitt.

you’ve never known jack to be… sympathetic. he became your fearless leader in these first days, and you noted that being inspiring wasn’t exactly his strong suit. if he needed someone to give a speech, he oftentime left that to robby. but he said something that stuck with you, just as you left city limits, narrowly escaping with your lives. “we’re going to be needed now more than ever. most healthcare workers across this country have likely died. we have a purpose. that’s the only thing that’s keeping me going through this hell hole.”

you repeated that in your head, day over day– when you wanted to find a creek and lay in it and let the water wash over you. get to fort knox. save lives. make this all matter. but today was hard. it was your birthday.

it was so stupid. who cares about birthdays, anymore? you don’t know where your family is. you don’t know where your friends are. cell service went down before you even left PTMC. you don’t know if any of them are even alive anymore. you have no home, no place in this world– your apartment a forgotten relic to your past. your feet burn and your hands are dry. your stomach growls at you more often than not.

but you loved your birthday, back then. you even had tickets this year to see your favorite band. you remember thinking it as fate that they were going to be in town on your actual birthday.

the tears prick at your eyes. you set up camp for the night, the hot sun finally setting into the curve of the earth. you’re right by the water, allowing you to stick your feet in the river and feel peace, if only for a moment. you had been figuring out that the majority of walkers were still in cities. the disease had hardly touched the more rural areas, which made west virginia safer than most other places. “fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hanging your head, finally letting the tears fall.

you feel him beside you before you hear him. you start, your heart nearly jumping out of your mouth. his face doesn’t move a muscle. “sorry.” he groans as he sits beside you. he doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you. he notes the tears on your face, and for a moment, you think he might berate you for them. you feel like you should be berated. you’re so lucky to be alive– aren’t you? or are the dead the lucky ones? you’re not sure if you know anymore, but you feel like you should be fortunate for… something. “please. don’t let me stop you.”

face screwed up in disbelief, you look back out to the water. “i shouldn’t be crying.”

“and why not?”

“because i’m not even crying for that good of a reason.” you bring your legs up to your chest, resting your chin on your knees.

“let me be the judge of that.”

you look over at him with skeptical eyes. before and after everything that had happened, you hadn’t been precisely vulnerable with jack before. he must sense your hesitation, because he leans back. “you know, despite my reputation…” he stares at you with that same intensity. “i’m not as emotionless as everyone seems to believe.”

“i don’t think you’re emotionless,” you say instantly. “the opposite. you’re full of it.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah,” you say, chuckling. “you’re… intense.”

jack hums at your examination of him, but doesn’t say anything else, leaving the floor open for you. looking back out at the water, you say, “i turned 30 today.” you press your lips into a thin line. “and i had all these plans– some friends and i got a hotel room for the night. we got a reservation at that nice new thai food place. my favorite band was going to be playing. it all was set up to be so… perfect. and then it wasn’t. and i just–” you blow a breath out, willing yourself to keep your emotions under control. “i’m fucking angry.”

your face goes slightly red, and something flashes behind jack’s eyes at that. “i’m so angry of what was taken from all of us. i’m angry that mckay died on my watch. i’m angry that we had to–” you wince. “that we had to kill patients. i know they weren’t there anymore, but–” you suck in a gasp of air. “i think i’ve been pushing it down, you know? focusing on what needed to be done. who we could save. getting somewhere that we can be useful. but what’s the point of being useful anymore? why save people when there’s hardly a world worth coming back to?”

“be angry,” jack says, resolutely. “i’m angry. and i don’t know if i’ve got anything encouraging to say to you other than that. that i know. and i feel it too.” a piece of hair has fallen into your face, and you flinch when jack moves to push it back behind your ear. this amuses him; the corner of his mouth turns up. “am i that bad?”

“no,” you say immediately, shaking your head. you use the back of your hand to brush away your tears, sending him an inquisitive look. “i just appreciate you checking on me.”

“don’t like seeing you upset,” he says. “you look like someone just stepped on a puppy in front of you.”

you gape at him and you again get that hint of a smile on his face. you don’t know if you’ll ever get him to grin, but you think you could live with what he gives you. you think a half smile from jack abbot is worth more than a belly laugh from anyone else. “wow.”

“i’m kiddin’,” he leans into you, brushing your shoulder with his. you settle into comfortable silence, staring out into the water. the sound of it comforts you, as does the chirping of crickets nestled in the brush. for as horrific as this all is– it’s beautiful here. as much as your back hurts from carrying your pack day over day, when you lay down and stare up at a sky full of stars… maybe there is something to hope for.

“does this remind you of being out on the field?” you ask. the question had been rattling around in your head for awhile– you’d heard some of the stories of jack’s days in the military. he was unstoppable. the intensity that he carries with him is well earned, if all the stories are true. you’d probably be intense and stoic, too.

sighing, he hangs his head. “yeah.” he swings his head over towards you. “it does. being stretched thin. never knowing what you’re going to see next. not knowing if you’re going to wake up and everyone you’ve gotten close to is dead.” he pauses. “or undead.”

you can’t help it. you laugh. “i’m sorry, i’m not laughing at you, i just–” he furrows his brows as you grab your stomach, falling back into the grass. “it’s crazy. this is all so fucking crazy. undead. fucking undead.” you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye. “oh my god, my stomach hurts.”

you continue to giggle, eyes shut, and jack hovers slightly over you. when you open your eyes, it’s not a half smile that you’re greeted with. he’s smiling at you full on, no holds barred. “you’re gonna be alright, kid.” he touches your chin. “you’re gonna be alright if you keep laughing.”

with nothing more, he pushes himself up, groaning as his knees creak, and walks back to camp.

rolling over onto your stomach, you watch as he walks off, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. and when he looks back over his shoulder at you, you watch him chuckle to himself.

–

there’s not a big shift that comes for you and dr. abbot. not yet, anyway– that doesn’t happen until he finds you with the walkers a week later.

you did run into other survivors on the road. since so many were fleeing pittsburgh, it was inevitable. you provided medical services as you went. there was this thought always in the back of your mind– what happens when you run across someone not so nice? that’s how these things always go isn’t it? you’d read enough books to know that typically, the biggest monster was humanity.

jack must’ve had the same thought when he diverted your group onto a path that he hoped would be less traveled, if slightly longer to get to the base. “no lives to save if we all die on the way there,” he smartly observed.

you loved to walk. the others often scolded you for going out by yourself, but it was not easy to deter you. the wind against your face and the sun on your arms was sometimes the only thing that reminded you that you were alive, that there were still simple pleasures in this world. you told robby, not asked for his permission, that you were going on an evening walk. he looked skeptically, but nodded. and you didn’t go too far– but it didn’t matter. there was a figure just off in the distance. at first, you think it’s a survivor. being this far out of the city, you didn’t run into walkers much. if you did, jack or collins typically took care of it with the guns they had looted days ago.

selfishly, you were thankful to not be tasked with defending anyone. you weren’t fighters. you’re healthcare workers. you were a resident doctor. your responsibility was to heal, not to harm. and you had witnessed enough of that harm in pittsburgh. you had your fill when you screwed your eyes up tight and screamed while you drove a knife into mckay’s chest while she, entirely gone, her eyes vacant and her mouth gaping, trying to gnash at your neck. that was still the thing that kept you up at night. you didn’t want to add to the list.

but when the head perked up, and you shielded your eyes from the burning sun, you realized how wrong you were. your heart sank and you took a stumbling step backwards. you piqued the intrigued of the walker, or it caught your scent, because it began a steady walk towards you. and then another one appeared behind it, cresting the hill. and a third. all ready to plummet down this hill towards you.

they’re fast. and with the downwards slope, they can only gain momentum. you begin to run back towards camp, but then you wonder if it’s better to lead them away from camp– what if there are others? but if you lead them away, they may not hear you… “help!” your cry is full of desperation as you begin to veer left from camp, trying to stay close enough.

the three walkers have gained on you. but for as fast as they are, jack is faster– he runs up and captures you in his arms, a pistol in his hand– three shots rings out, right next to your ear, and you lower yourself to try and escape the jarring noise. “they didn’t get you? no bites, no scratches?” you shake your head no, and the silence that follows is heavy. you continue to cover your ears with your hands. you can feel your blood pumping through you, the adrenaline of near death. every limb trembles and you sink even lower, until your hands are splayed on the still warm asphalt.

the others must have approached, because you hear jack say, “go on. we’re good.” he lowers himself to your level like a true doctor, his hand rubbing, up and down, on your back. “we’re good.”

the others heed his words and tentatively walk off, leaving you two alone. “you’re good,” he repeats. he gathers your hair off of your neck to relieve some of the heat, holding it up with one big hand. “what were you doing walking by yourself?”

“i told robby,” you say around a gasping breath. “i– i didn’t–” you look over at the bodies. one of them is a woman, certainly not much older or younger than you. “i saw her, but she was still far off. i didn’t know she was…”

from a career of working with people at their most vulnerable, jack must sense what is about to break within you. it was close at the river, but then you were mourning the loss of what your life could be. this felt bigger than that. this was coming to terms with what your life now was.

and you swiftly fall apart.

you don’t expect him to hold you, at first. you begin to sink into yourself, the tears and the cries coming like the flood. but jack swoops in, his hand to the back of your head and his other arm circling your waist. you sit on the dirty road and he holds you, despite the humidity and the heat and everything else. you should’ve known that this side of abbot existed. the side that could be steady as a rock, unyielding and ready to protect.

you’re there for so long the sun begins to sink. you look up from where you’d hidden your face in his chest. a technicolor sunset is in front of you. your red rimmed eyes take it in, and jack pulls away enough to watch your face, gauge your reaction. when he sees the wonder in your eyes, he cranes his neck to follow your line of vision. he says, softly, “think mother nature knew you needed some cheering up.”

with a wet laugh, you lean back, but jack doesn’t release you from his hold that easily. “i guess so.” you look at him through your lashes, feeling embarrassed and grateful and reckless and warmed. “thank you. i won’t– i won’t go out walking.”

he scoffs. “nah. you will. we just need to go in pairs.” he looks like he might leave it at that, but then he says, “and i’ll go wherever you want.”

–

two more weeks go by and now it’s august and the days burn orange and you’re in the heart of west virginia.

from that sunset on the road on, where you go, he’s often not too far behind. the others are not oblivious to his trained eye watching you. they’re not stupid– they notice when he is the first one to pair with you for scavenging.

seeing walkers doesn’t have the same jarring affect that it did, even days ago. it’s still not regular, but you certainly see them more than when you first got into west virginia. you still don’t carry a gun, but jack, collins, robby, and dana now do. wherever you all go, one of them goes with you. and for you… that’s jack. if not by choice, by default. everyone seems to have their pair, natural duos from your time in the emergency room. you didn’t have that then, and jack didn’t, either. he has robby, of course, and that hasn’t change– but you think something in his mindset changed when you fell apart before him.

you don’t call him dr. abbot anymore. none of you use such formalities now. what’s the use?

the group moves through west virginia terrain towards fort knox. over time, you’d gotten more and more in the way of supplies. you found an abandoned RV in good shape with the keys still in the ignition. you all held a thought for the owner before you took it. dana was driving a pick up that she spotted back near weston. it made all of you laugh when you saw her behind the wheel. most of the places out here weren’t so looted– sometimes, you hit a goldmine still. jack’s clever thinking to take the road less traveled was proving useful, indeed. that felt like good enough reason to take your time. but winter was going to be coming sooner rather than later. your slowness wasn’t going to last forever. a thought lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re sure everyone else’s, too– this world needs doctors. and maybe you’re all being selfish. maybe you’re all okay with that, for the time being. you don’t know. you’re only human.

you liked to walk to clear your head. sometimes you missed it being a solitary activity, but jack was often quiet enough that you really didn’t have much of a change. honestly, you never minded when it was jack. sometimes dana would offer to walk with you, and for as much as you love her, she has the ability to talk your ear off– but jack picked up on your cues. when he thought there might be something on your mind, he would nudge your arm. when you shook your head, he dropped it. when you would begin to talk through whatever it was that you were thinking about, he would listen, rapt.

and, you think you provide him support, too. there was so much that you’ve learned about him– you know how he takes his coffee. well, in this world, at least. he likes it black but with two of those sugar packets that you got from a starbucks. not the artificial stuff, either. he wakes before you, but you always make his second cup. you’ll approach him in his seat– he always sits in the RV in the morning, working on one of the crossword books you’d taken from the hospital. you come up to him and take his empty cup. most mornings, he says, “you don’t gotta do that.”

you reply each time with, “but i wanna.”

and, over time, you get more and more of those small smiles.

for what it’s worth, the two of you get by for awhile pretending that whatever is happening simply isn’t. you roll your eyes when langdon calls you mrs. abbot. you simply nod when robby mentions jack looking for you.

it was a long day, and a storm was brewing. you had been camped in the same spot for nearly a week, spending time scavenging the area, which was largely untouched by other survivors. you take what you need, leave what you don’t– making sure that there’s enough for anyone else who might need it in the future. your body is sore from so many night of sleeping on the ground, but that’s everyone. “alright– we need to reduce the amount of tents so that we can get everyone out of the rainfall and under the trees.” dana says, hands on her hips. she starts rattling off sleeping arrangements, pointing at you and finishing with, “you’ll be in jack’s tent.”

you look at each other from across the circle, and you have to make a true effort to keep your face neutral. jack doesn’t even flinch. “yes, ma’am.”

your stomach twists in knots as you begin tearing down your tent. jack comes up from behind you and helps, making quick work of it. you glance over at him and murmur, “sorry you’re stuck with me. i’ll keep to my side of the sleeping bag.”

there’s a glint in his eye. “i don’t know. princess has told me you hog the blankets.”

“i do not!”

he smirks to himself, satisfied with getting a small rise out of you. “guess i’ll just have to be the judge of that, kid.”

–

it’s been a long time since you laid beside a man and it meant something.

you’d been single for the better part of five years– your ex was the kind of piece of work that would make anyone swear off dating for half of a decade. you had meaningless hookups and endless first dates, but nothing that stuck. nothing that gave you butterflies.

now, there’s a swarm of them in your stomach, threatening to dislodge. you brush your teeth and your eyes trail over towards jack, smirking at something that robby said. you glance away and finish up, proceeding to change in the RV. you’re not sure how you’re supposed to dress– sweats is most appropriate, right? you run warm, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. big shirt? little shirt?

zombies could come up and kill you at any point, and your concern is how much or how little you should wear while lying next to jack. the ridiculousness is not lost on you. but, there’s a shred of you that’s thankful for a feeling that’s normal amidst everything else. feelings-induced trepidation is something that you can handle.

you opt for the little shirt– a gas station t shirt you had cropped haphazardly with a knife– and sweatpants. when you come back out from the RV, jack is no where to be seen, but there is a light on in his tent.

unzipping slowly, you’re greeted by his face looking at you. you watch his eyes zero in on the strip of exposed skin on your stomach. you watch his adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows.

the tent is generous when it says that two people can fit. you can see that jack prepped your side of the bed– two pillows, and your water bottle. “you left it outside.”

“thank you.” you kick your shoes off and climb under the blanket. jack huffs a laugh. “what’s so funny?”

“you wear pants to bed?”

your face heats. “not typically.”

“don’t do it for my comfort.” he reaches at the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head. “i will be sleeping comfortably. and cool.” he halts before he says, “and a gentleman.”

you roll your eyes, but you lift your hips and shimmy the sweats off, tossing them towards your feet. settling back into the pillow, you watch jack as he does the same, eventually rolling over to face you. he has the fly trap off of the tent, so you stare up at the stars. he never looks away from you.

“dana did this on purpose,” you whisper, and it’s the closest you’ve gotten to pure admission. “you realize that, right?”

“yeah,” he puts one hand behind his head, following the line of your sight to the stars, too. “she’s been on my case since we set up camp here.”

curious, you peer over at him. “how so?”

jack shrugs one shoulder. “telling me not to fuck around with your feelings.” his neck turns towards you. “told her i’m doing my best.”

you screw your face up. “you’re not fucking around with my feelings.”

“good.” there’s such a practicality to his words. he’s not barred by fear or by unease;  he’s confident. “but, for the record…” he sinks his teeth into his lower lip. “yeah, i’m not trying to fuck around with your feelings. i’ve been trying to…”

“trying to what?”

“will you let me spit it out?” jack asks with a smirk. “patience is not always your strong suit.”

you turn your chin down, indignant. “you didn’t mind when we were in the emergency room.”

“i wouldn’t go that far,” jack counters. “i think i told you to slow down on multiple occasions.”

“now you’re just deflecting.”

a clap of lightning and thunder rings out in the open air. the rain begins just after.

“i think you just proved my point.”

disgruntled now, you move to simply roll over and go to bed and pretend the entire conversation never happened. but jack laughs again and he gently wraps his hand around your arm, pulling you back. not controlling. guiding. “don’t do that,” he says. “not when i’m trying to tell you i care about you. at least give me the opportunity to say it before you shoot me down and go to bed.”

brows furrowing, you roll over to face him. “i don’t understand.”

over the course of the month or so that you’ve gotten to learn jack intimately, know the corners of his mind and the stories that weren’t often shared, you’d resolutely pushed away the notion of you not being anything but in over your head. a woman with a crush on your authority figure. broken by circumstance and clinging to the one person who moves you feel unequivocally safe.

there wasn’t a part of you the stopped to think that maybe jack was doing the same. but that he was, perhaps, more brave than you.

“i’m not good at any of this,” he says quietly. “but if we’re going to die before the new year, i want to be selfish. and if i’ve– misread, tell me, and i’ll never bring this up again.”

silence fills the tent. your mouth forms a slight o, trying to wrap your head around the string of words that he just confessed to you. “you said before, that the only thing keeping you going was the fact that the world needs us. needs doctors.” your eyes flicker down then back up. “is that still true? is that the only reason?”

“if that was the only reason, i’d be in fort knox right now.” his hand flexes where it rests on his pillow. he’s holding back– you feel the tension pulled taut within him.

“tell me,” you say with absolution.

“tell you what?”

“tell me you want me. not just because of circumstance. but because of… me.” you are growing smaller before him. “i don’t want to just be a body to keep your bed warm until we die gruesomely.”

he laughs like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard. your name falls off his lips and he extends that hand to you. you take it. he tugs you closer. you push him, he pushes you. he makes you patient, you make him articulate. “i remember, once, walking by the family room. you were sitting with a little girl who had just lost her mom in a car accident. she… i couldn’t save her. and i was dreading sitting that little girl down, looking her in the eye, and telling her. but you stayed with me.” he swallows, thinking. “i’ve watched you work on the fly and save lives without thinking twice. you’re a horrible singer, but a great dancer. you love crosswords.” he pauses. “this didn’t start last week. not even last month.” last month, when you were still a resident and he was still your attending.

“wow.”

“yeah,” jack nods his head. “wow.”

you don’t know what to say. you feel shy under his gaze, and you think he knows it. he eyes you with that cocky smirk, like he knows that you want him, but that something still holds you back. “you don’t gotta say anything right now,” he shrugs. “we’ve got time. that is, long as i’m still alive.”

you gasp and hit his chest and he keeps your hand in his and then you’re looking at each other and slowly, surely, patiently– you begin to lean in. you don’t kiss him yet. you know that he’ll leave that ball in your court. but there’s something fun about your nose bumping his and feeling his breath on your cheek and feeling the way that his hand tightens around yours. “you’re not being very patient,” you murmur, and he all but growls, and you feel it all the way down to your belly. you laugh and your hand slides to the back of his head.

his hand lands on your waist. he begins pulling you closer. “say you want me,” he asks.

“i want you.”

a shuddering breath leaves him, and it settles into your brain how affected he is. he’s drunk on you, and you on him, and your leg drags up his. you finally decide to stop your cruelty, and you close the distance. your mouth rolls against his and his tongue opens you up, and you feel like something has just split your heart, and your fondness for him is spilling out of you.

you didn’t suspect jack to be a tender lover. you and mckay used to joke that he probably fucked like a jackhammer. but you should’ve known that his patience, his sheer determination, extends here, too.

he rolls you until he’s hovering above you, hand sliding to the back of your neck and squeezes the sides, just barely. you gasp into his mouth and his knee parts your legs and every part of you feels like warm honey, sliding between his fingers. there’s a restraint when he pulls back and looks at you. “you’re trouble.”

“i thought you knew that.”

“i did,” his hand runs from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach. it travels further to the waistband of your underwear. “now, trouble,” you flush at the way that nickname makes you press your thighs together. “do you know how to be quiet?”

“yes, i know how to be quiet, you ass–” you’re cut off with a gasping sound leaving your throat as his fingers dip into your underwear. he leans in closer and chuckles in your ear and your hips roll to meet his hand.

“do you?” he asks as his hand begins to work its magic.

“yes.”

lowering until his mouth finds the juncture of your neck and shoulder, he kisses, sucks a mark into the skin. your hand finds a fistful of his hair and you want to let go, you want to moan so loud you bring every walker in a three mile radius to find you. it would be worth it to release, to feel freely and let the world know it. your hips keep moving on their own, chasing pleasure, and jack sits up to use his free hand to grip your hip and presses you down. “i’ll take care of you, doc. don’t worry.” he leans in and kisses beneath your ear. “and you can be as loud as you want when there’s thunder.”

your eyes roll back into your head and within moments, everything is shooting stars.

–

when the morning comes, you’re smug, and glowing. jack wakes you slowly. the mourning doves are just beginning to sing their song and he pulls you closer, hungry. “think the plan is to leave soon,” he says into the back of your neck, pressing a kiss there. “but not too soon.”

it takes another thirty minutes for you to leave the tent. jack helps you back into your clothes with pride, looking you up and down. you scoff and push his face away, but then come back for a kiss. it’s easy to settle into familiarity when you spend so much time wondering where your life is going, what the point is of any of it– this. maybe this is the point. maybe this has to be the point.

holding the flap of his tent open for you, you clamber out, and the two of you are faced with… well, everyone. everyone smirking.

and without a word from either of you, dana looks at collins and says. “i told you that’s all it would take.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

proper thank you

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only!, stepbro!rafe, sending nudes, stepcest, kinda dumb/baby reader???

“carry me up to bed rafey?” you coo at your step brother, fluttering your lashes as your pout turns into a giggle when he sighs, unable to resist your pleading face.

“you're the most annoying little sis ever.” rafe says, calling you the nickname just to tease you as he leans down, scooping you into his arms. he carries you like you weigh nothing, so easily slotting into the good older stepbrother role when your parents married, despite him being only a few months older than you.

“thank you rafey.” you say sweetly as he walks you up the stairs, your arms holding him around the shoulders, head leaned against his broad chest.

“yeah, you gotta give me a better thank you than that.” rafe rolls his eyes as he carries you into your bedroom. only once the door is closed do you press a wet kiss to his cheek as a proper thank you.

rafe plops you down on the bed unceremoniously. “there ya go.” he waves as he walks away, knowing it's not actually goodnight as you let out a whine.

“tuck me in?”

rafe hides his smirk before turning around, putting on his slightly annoyed act like he always does when you ask him.

rafe pulls the fluffy blanket out from under you. it's slightly weighted so it naturally tucks around your body anyways as rafe covers you, but his hands still move slowly, feeling your body as he pushes in the blanket until you're stuck tight underneath it.

“anything else? want me to tell you a bedtime story?” rafe says it as a joke, but with the way your eyes light up, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, recounting three little pigs from memory the best he can.

“alright, you gotta get to bed now.” rafe glances at the clock on your nightstand as the hour hand ticks closer to midnight. “goodnight.”

“goodnight rafey.” you smile softly before letting out a yawn. “ill give you a proper thank you soon.”

rafe isn't sure what you mean until he makes it back to his room, scrolling aimlessly through his phone until a text message appears from you.

he clicks it to open up the image, his eyes widening and dick swelling as he sees you in a silky nightgown, the swell of your breasts clearly visible, nipples poking through the fabric. he recognizes the nightgown from a few days ago, but you clearly got further undressed.

rafes eyes bulge as the next image loads, the same pose, now sans nightgown, tits bare and thighs clenched together to make a delicious looking v that rafe wants to dive into.

a proper thank you ;) reads your text, along with one last image, this time with your legs spread, smile on your face as your cunt is on clear display. you took the marker tool to add to your lower stomach “property of big brother.”

rafe is in your room untucking you from your bed before the clock reaches midnight.

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