#black girl insert series

[i-jus-wanna-writehappy]

My Biggest Fan Teaser

Pairing: Choso Kamo x black!fem!reader

CW:18+, masturbation (Choso), fantasizing, cursing

A/N: The way I drool for this man 🥵😮‍💨 but this is a little lead up teaser to the actual fic that will be coming soon, but part 2 for Abundance (Gojo) will probably come out first. I just had to write a lil somethin for my mans

•

* Choso is really just bored and scrolling through his new phone when he comes across your dance group. You’re all swaying and… bouncing, and Choso already thinks he’s paying all of the attention he can, but then you all shift again and you move to the front of the group.

* He has to take his lower lip between his teeth to muffle the groan he releases, eyes shooting to the door to make sure his younger brother isn’t standing in the doorway, laughing at how pathetic he’s being. Once the coast is clear, Choso sinks lower into his chair, making room in his jogging pants for all of his attention.

* Choso finishes out the video, eyes following your journey in the group rotation and his free hand idly massaging his growing length.

* As soon as the video ends, Choso stumbles his way to your profile and immediately clicks the follow button before scrolling through and letting wetness pool in his mouth and on his tip with each new like he delivers.

* He likes every post dating back to a month and a half ago, every day harboring at least two posts.

* His dick, very unsatisfied with the slow, torturous embrace, begins to twitch angrily when he watches a video of you and your dance group announcing that you got hired to dance with a famous performer on tour.

* He’ll be able to see you in person next summer.

* His imagination gets the best of him then, phone dropping onto the carpet beneath his feet as his hand begins moving faster and his eyes drift closed. The video of you dancing to the seductive song in your gym shorts and large tee shirt by yourself in the mirrored studio plays behind Choso’s eyelids, except this time, his hands grip at your warm hips tightly, following your movements rather than the music. Feeling the rhythm in your breaths.

* Choso’s hips begin to meet the needy pumping of his fist, his mouth dropping open to release a low, breathy groan on an exhale as he imagines the steady slapping sound instead coming from your ass clapping back on him as his dick swells inside of you.

* The soft pants you huff out as the music fades and the video loops again pushes Choso over the edge, his grip getting tighter and thrusts getting erratic at the thought of you humming and panting in the same way after you cum all over his cock, drenching and milking him as his chasing his own high begins to overstimulate you.

* “Mmm, so perfect. So pretty for me.” He groans out, praising the teary eyed version of you behind his eyelids as he shoots cum all over his sweatshirt, his hand getting a decent coating as he comes down from his high.

* Choso feels a little embarrassed now, alone in his room covered in cum. But even more than that, he’s determined to see you live and up close.

* He has to remove his hand from his cock before he can lose control again.

* After cleaning up and hand washing his sweatshirt before putting it in the hamper, Choso finds Yuuji. He needs to know everything Todo knows about seeing a star live.

#choso kamo smut #choso smut #jjk choso #jjk smut #choso kamo #choso #choso x reader #black reader insert #black girl insert series #kamo choso #jujutsu kaisen choso

[panjakes]

Can I get dad!Yoongi comes back from tour and his daughter and black wife come pick him up from the airport? Also I love your writing❤️

Thank you!!!❤️🫶🏼

Yoongi couldn’t wait for this damn plane to land and everyone could tell. Jimin who was sitting next to him smirked before nudging him a bit.

“Can’t wait too see the family?” He asks

“It’s been a while since I’ve physically seen them…and I just wanna be in my bed” he mumbles making jimin laugh

“Yeah I feel you” jimin says making yoongi side eye him

“Well, on the bed part” jimin says making yoongi nod and chuckle

Before he could respond the flight attendant announced they would be landing soon. Yoongi didn’t wait to pull out his phone sending you a quick text.

Not wasting time to get his overhead bag and getting into the isle to get off the plane. The rest of the members laughing at his excitement

After being the first person off the plane, yoongi did wait for his members who met him inside the airport.

Staring down at the watch on his wrist looking at the time

“Are you going to eat? I want food” jungkook says as the rest of the members walk over to yoongi

“Took you long enough” yoongi mumbles taking the sunglasses off his face

“We get it! You miss the family! Gosh” Jin says rolling his eyes as they start to walk

“Don’t be upset because you don’t have your own family to go home to.” Yoongi mumbles

Yoongi looked around the empty airport. It was slightly dark outside and there was surprisingly no cameras and no army inside which he was glad for

He looked down at his phone to see where you parked.

Stepping outside in front of the airport yoongi and the guys looked around for you and the tiny angel.

Yoongi couldn’t help but smile when he looked over across the street and seen you holding your three year old daughter who was holding a sign with different colors and sparkles.

“Mommy!! It’s daddy!” He heard her scream

“I know babygirl! Let’s go get him” you say smiling at her

Yoongi waited for the two of you to cross the street. Your daughter kicked her legs ready to get out your arms and into yoongi's.

"daddy!! Hi!" She shouts waving her tiny hand

"Hi princess" Yoongi says pulling you and the small child into a hug. Leaning over to kiss your forehead then your daughters. Yoongi sighs in relief at finally being home

"Look!" Your daughter says holding up the sign she made almost hitting you with it

"she insisited that we make you a sign" You say playfully rolling your eyes

"It pretty?" she ask looking at yoongi with her big wide eyes. He chuckles before running his hand through her curls

"Very pretty princess. Whats going on with your hair?" Yoongi asks noticing her hair wasnt in its usual twist or braids with beads

"She gave me a hard time when I tried to do it. So shes rocking the baby fro" You say

"Hey yn you cooking?" Jungkook asks walking over to the three of you

"Excuse you? Cant say hello to my wife?" Yoongi asks

"Dont do that, me and yn are cool like that. I'm just hungry" Jungkook says waving yoongi off

"Uncle Kookie!"

"Hi pea! Where you good for mommy?" He asks taking your daughter from yoongi,

"Yeah!" She screams excitedly

"Yeah Im cooking but it'll be later. Me and ava had pancakes" You say pushing her air out of her face

"Yeah later, now go away so I can have my family to myself" Yoongi says grabbing ava from jungkook

Jungkook glares at him before smacking his lips and looking over at you.

"He cried the third day on tour because he said he missed you guys" Jungkook says pointing at yoongi who smacks his lips

"I did not" Yoongi says

"He did, the stylist had to redo his makeup he was crying so much" Jungkook says making yoongi push him a little bit

"Get out of here" He says making jungkook laugh and leave

"I did not cry" Yoongi mumbles

"well Ava did" you say making her gasp

“Mommy! Stop!” She says feeling embarrassed

“Yeah mommy stop! She’s a big girl” yoongi says making your daughter agree

“Yeah whatever, get in the car I know your tired” you say patting his back

“Daddy can we play?” Ava asks

“Ava daddy’s tired you can play tomorrow” you say walking over to the car

“No tomorrow” she says pouting as yoongi puts her into her car seat

“It’s okay princess we can play all night” yoongi says kissing her forehead making her giggle

You shrug going over to the drivers side to open it but yoongi quickly shuts it and shakes his head

“What’re you doing?” You ask

“I’m driving” he says

“No baby your tired. I can drive” you say

Yoongi ignores you taking the keys from your hand and pushes you over to the passenger. You sigh and obey anyway.

The car ride home was filled with you filling yoongi in on what happened while he was gone. Everything was about Ava but yoongi was glad to hear.

Once you three were settled inside the house, Ava immediately pulled yoongi too her big pink purple and yellow room filled with every toy a three year old could have

While you were in the kitchen you couldn’t help but smile as you heard Ava’s loud giggles. Sooner or later the giggles were no longer heard.

Just as you turned off the stove, you walk upstairs to Ava’s room to find yoongi in her tiny bed and her in his lap. You take out your phone taking a pictures smiling. You knew he was tired.

Before you could wake him up you heard someone knock on the door. You go down the stairs to open it to find jungkook

“Oh so you was serious about getting this plate” you say letting him in

“Of course! Where’s yonngi and Pea?” He asks

“Asleep. They played for about two hours” you say going to make his plate

“Really? Alright I won’t bother y’all. I’ll get my plate and go” jungkook says following you too the kitchen

“Take some to jimin and taehyung” you say handing him the extra plates

“Nah I think I’ll keep them to myself” he says laughing

“Bye jungkook” you say laughing

“Bye Yn! Thanks for the food” he says opening the door and leaving.

You make yoongi and Ava’s plate putting them in the microwave knowing they’d probably wake up at the same time and want to eat.

After cleaning the kitchen you go back to Ava’s room to check on the two. They were still sleeping just in a new position that made you laugh.

Yoongi was on his back with his feet hanging off the end off the tiny bed with Ava laying on his back.

You don’t say anything. You just take another picture and go to your bedroom. Quickly showering and getting dressed.

Getting into the bed yoongi wasn’t far behind

“Wassup baby” you say making him glare at you

“Ain’t no wassup, why didn’t you wake me up to get in the REAL bed” he says making you chuckle

“You looked comfortable so I left you alone” you say shrugging

“Bullshit. You know that plastic bullcrap isn’t comfortable. Plus Ava kicked me in the mouth” he says rubbing at his jaw

“How?” You ask chuckling

“I don’t know but I do know I’m going to bed” he says climbing into the bed throwing his arm around your waist

“Okay goodnight” you say turning off your lamp and turning you attention back to Netflix

Soon enough yoongi was back lightly snoring and you were watching some reality show on Netflix. Not even 25 minutes later Ava came into the room with a pout

“Mommy!! Daddy left again!” She says sadly

“No he didn’t he’s right here baby” you say pointing to the sleeping man

She peeks over and immediately runs over to the big king size bed. She tries her hardest to get into the bed but she just couldn’t so she pats yoongis leg

“Daddy! Help” she says making you giggle at her cute little voice

Yoongi groans grabbing her from under her arms and putting her in between the two off you. He kisses her forehead and pats her stomach

“Go to sleep pea” he mumbles

“Okay” she mumbles snuggling closer to yoongi

You smile at the two before turning the tv off and snuggle into your daughter and yoongi.

#ambw fic #black reader #ambw #black reader insert #black girls are beautiful #kpop poc #kpop #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines #enhypen x black reader #black y/n #black!reader #black kpop stans #nct x black reader #seventeen ambw #enhypen x y/n #hybed hybrids series #black fanfic writer #blackyn #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x black reader #yoongi x black reader

[j0kers-light]

Imagine y/n shows up to joker wearing a playboy bunny suit and ears and fluffy tail with rope in her hands.

I’m squealing just thinking about it.

His Lighthouse: Joker’s Bunny (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Joker’s Bunny - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Hey hi anon 🖤✨

I love love loved this imagine! I can’t believe tumblr had the audacity to delete it! It’s been sitting in the inbox since August 7th! Yay for refreshing?

Anyhooooooo I’ve been merging asks to dwindle the numbers down and I came across one that…. well.. It’s not my cup of tea. BUT! If it's up your alley (lol no pun intended) it's implied. I’ll mark it with an ** and let you figure it out. I do regret to inform that this is rather short because I love to tease. I will return to this idea later 😏

I won’t add a tag list until I complete this oneshot!

It was only supposed to be a nickname, an inside joke to use however Joker seemed fit. He gave you so many, it was hard to keep up with them all— yet this one stuck.

You were naturally curious, a timid little thing and overly cautious.

You always weighed out the options presented to you before jumping all in. Joker said it as a joke all those months ago but overtime, it became something more. One could argue that you adopted the moniker.

You responded to it without fuss and rarely rolled your eyes or huffed under your breath whenever he used it.

You would tilt your head and scrunch your nose to really bring the nickname to life. One random day you found yourself accepting the name when you used the emoji to refer to yourself.

You were without a doubt, Joker’s Bunny. He never thought you would take the title so seriously.

Joker groaned to himself.

Whhhhhy didn’t he stay with you tonight? You practically begged him to with those e/c eyes of yours but he stood firm on his ‘I have to go, it's im-port-ant’ spiel.

You pouted but sent him off with a kiss. Now Joker regretted his decision as each boring minute dragged on during this briefing. To be fair, it was important. Too bad Joker wasn’t listening. He spent his time staring off into space. daydreaming about you.

He wondered what you cooked tonight. Was it that new recipe you wanted to try or did you play it safe and fix one of his favorites? He loved your cooking and could go for a hearty meal after sitting through this snoozefest.

His thoughts were plenty and quickly changed. Did you take a bubble bath with that new bath bomb he bought you? Joker saw it in passing and immediately thought of you after seeing its onyx and opal swirls in the store.

If he remembered correctly it was called Night Sky and smelled like forbidden fruits. It had your name written all over it. So what if he stole a few for you?

Joker was envisioning your body soaking in the tinted water when his phone chiming startled him out of the fantasy.

He fished it out of his coat pocket and arched an eyebrow when he saw your message come through. Speak of an angel and you appear.

you coming home?

J smirked to himself after reading the word home.

It stirred up a flurry of emotions within him every time you used it. Joker thought he had no need for a home until you entered his life and proved him wrong. Every person needs a home; his just so happened to be you.

And Joker was feeling a bit homesick.

He found your message a bit odd since you knew he was overseeing a meeting tonight. Did something happen or were you just as needy as he was? He really should’ve stayed at home with you in the first place. Joker sighed and scanned the room.

The team was talking amongst themselves on how to pull off the hit without gaining the authorities’ attention. Joker drowned them out thirty minutes ago. He was only here for appearance’s sake and could care less.

They could iron out the details without him and that became the determining factor to answer your question. With a roll of his green eyes, he replied.

What’s in it 4 me?

Joker watched three tiny dots appear and fade multiple times over a course of several minutes. Whatever you wanted to say was deleted over and over until Joker finally got a vague response.

Come and find out 🐰

Such a sassy little thing you were tonight. A few seconds later, Joker received an attachment pic from you. He took one glance at it and reacted.

“Oi! Where you going, Boss?” A henchman called out.

Joker was already storming out the door to even notice that he scared everyone with his abrupt exit.

They were waiting for Joker to voice his opinion and he just up and left. Not like he cared. The small group however began to panic and scrambled to find a way to revise the plans to meet Joker’s high expectations.

They could all die trying to rob the bank for all he cared. Joker’s mind was elsewhere, solely on you.

His Bunny was asking for it.

It was the only explanation as to why the dying sun captured your sexy silhouette oh so perfectly. When Joker got home, he was gonna ruin you.

Joker didn’t notice Frost coming down the hall in his mad dash to the elevator. Frost took one look at his boss and scoffed.

“Let me guess. It’s either the airheads in the meeting or something B did.” He ignored Joker’s venomous glare yet the lack of response spoke volumes.

“Are you coming back after you fix her attitude?” Frost sighed softly.

The elevator door dinged open upon arrival and Joker marched inside to stab the ground floor button. He locked eyes with Frost and set his demands.

“Don’t bother us unless.. I dunno, it’s err raining cats and dogs.” Which meant no, he wasn’t coming back and they both knew it.

Frost spoke his own reflection as the doors slid closed. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

There really should be a guide to these types of things. How to look sexy for your lover while wearing a ridiculous outfit.

Perhaps you could write a guide yourself; it beat psyching yourself up to no avail.

You planned this for weeks and now the day finally came to commit and you were having second thoughts.

The last component arrived a little while after Joker left for his meeting and you just couldn’t stall another night. It was now or never.

You wouldn’t have the confidence to do this after today. Just looking in the mirror you felt silly all over again. Knowing that Joker left you on read didn’t boost that confidence any higher either.

It wasn’t that disappointing– Joker constantly left you on read in text conversations, the problem was that he left you hanging after you sent him a risque picture.

It took you ages to get the angle, the lighting, and find a pic you actually liked, before sending it to the clown and he didn’t appreciate none of it.

You checked yourself out in front of the floor length mirror and sighed as your heels clicked sharply on the hardwood. You thought you looked cute, hot even! But your opinion was moot if Joker didn’t approve.

Maybe he opened the message and got busy before he could respond? You told yourself anything except the truth.

He probably hated it and didn’t want to hurt yor feelings.

You puckered your glossy lips at your reflection, preparing to take off the ensemble when you heard keys turning in the front door.

Joker was back in record time. It made you wonder how he got here so fast but that was the least of your worries.

You grabbed his gift off the dresser right as you heard the bedroom door slam into the wall.

Joker was going to leave a dent in the wall if he kept doing that. You told him time and time again to stop. You were about to scold him right then but the fiery heat in his eyes stole your breath.

Joker was a raging bull, just shy of steam blowing out his nose.

His target? Poor ol’ you shifting your weight from heel to heel. You hid his surprise further behind your back and of course, he noticed.

“Whatcha got there.. Bunny.” Joker stressed the endearment more so than usual since you were dressed the part.

You wore your tallest pumps and donned a fresh pair of fishnets to go nicely with your f/c bunny suit. It clung to your figure in all the best ways and the white cuff links and debonair tie around your neck was the icing on the cake.

You looked every part the bunny Joker called you. He admired the bunny ears atop your head; one bent, the other straight. He loved every little detail you had.

Joker slowly stalked towards you with his head tilted slightly. “I asked... Whatcha got behind your back Bunny? Is it a surprise?”

You nodded demurely. So that’s how you wanted to play? Joker just grinned.

“Yeah? Is it…. for me?” You giggled when he tried to steal a peek if not for you dodging his attempts at the last minute.

Joker was all for your playful mood tonight and growled lowly, seeing your sly smirk. You did your makeup so pretty, but he was over the moon seeing your plump lips shimmering all for him. You wore that shade he bought you recently. The one that tasted like strawberries.

He wanted to ruin it and you.

His green eyes roamed down your beautiful face to your neck on full display for him to nibble and mark, down to your breasts practically bursting out of your suit.

He wouldn’t be surprised if you bought it two sizes too small with how your curves spilled out over the leather confines. Joker wanted to lay you down and knead your soft flesh and rip holes in your fishnets. You looked so good and he wanted to play.

There was so much he wanted to do! He grew tired of you ducking and dodging and grabbed your arms roughly. “Gotcha Bunny! Now… let’s uh, see what you oh..”

Joker audibly swallowed as you bit your lip and looked away.

Joker stared at the bundle of rope in your hands, honestly at a loss for words. The bright color would look heavenly against your skin tone and you knew Joker wanted to tie you up for months now. He introduced the idea once or twice and tested out the new concept by binding your wrists.

It excited you and drove him wild. It was high time he got his wish by going all in.

Joker rubbed his thumb against the rope and met your shy gaze. “Y/n… are you sure.”

You nodded and leaned up (even with heels on J towered over you) and kissed his cheek but Joker required a verbal agreement.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny. That you’ll let me uhh, tie ya up? You wanna be my sweet rope bunny huh doll?”

You nodded again but Joker reached out and gripped your chin, “Use your words, bunny.”

You moaned out and closed your eyes. Joker had yet to do anything and you were already worked up. “B-Bunnies don’t t-talk.” You gasped.

Joker was speechless as you finally turned around and let him see the fluffy bunny tail** you wore. You walked over to the edge of the bed and bent by your waist to wiggle your buns for Joker.

His breath was shaky but overly excited for what was about to happen. Joker unraveled the colored rope in his hands with a mocking tsk of his lips.

“What a naughty, naughty bunny girl I have.” 

#thanks anon! #thanks for the ask! #ledger joker x reader #black!fem!reader #joker x y/n #ledger joker #bunny girl #reader insert #Joker’s Bunny #his lighthouse #🐰 series #to be continued

[aswho1estuff]

The way you move

I like the way you move #1

Special thanks to @ladycocosposts who inspired me to make this which ended up being the first of many stories im grateful.

Masterlist & Full Playlist

Plot: Two performing art schools are combined upon underlying reason bringing together an unlikely duo Moose and Alice who help each other grow beyond fluttering hearts and the genre of music.

Ep 1 overview: moose sees Alice for the first time and a little performance from her in which she reminds him of a miniature ballerina in a music box.

Moose pov:

If only looks could kill I’d be dead by now, she squints her brown eyes at me “cute, yeah” I agree with myself nodding and smile at her.

“ come on moose” I break my stare off and turn to Tyler “Huh” he rolls his eyes and pushes me along I turn back to where she stood on the school stairs but shes gone.

(Time skip ⏭ lunch)

I slam my lunch on the table and sit in silence “ what’s going on with you moose ?” I click my tongue in consideration “ well this girl I saw earlier” “ the one you were having a stare off with, she seem to be winning” he laughs out I cut in “ well yeah her and I plan to win next time” i smirk picking up a carrot.

Nora takes a seat “ have y’all heard the news?” “About what” I say turning to her “ the schools gonna join in with another it’s one of those prestige schools” Tyler’s ticks at that Nora adds in “it could be beneficial for everyone ”.

(Time skip ⏭ after school)

“Bye” I wave them off as they leave together I cross the street walking along the side of the school from earlier as I hear faint music I walk into the school following it to a open door it’s the same girl.

The music stops and she bows deeply immediately I start clapping she looks up startled “you dance like you belong in a music box, like the figure I mean, you’re really good is what I meant, I like the way you move” she laughs I got her to laugh “ thank you means a lot” she chews on her bottom lip and suddenly her eyes go wide “ you should probably get going ?” I swallow “ oh yeah, I guess see you ?” She hides her smile and looks at me “see yah” it’s a promise then.

Alice pov:

“What are you smiling about?, get this right so we can finish up” Alicia states and with that all happiness quickly disappears from the room as her words swallow it whole “sorry ma’am” I apologize resuming the steps.

{ it’s my 1st work so it’s not the best but I’m proud and hope you enjoyed}

Masterlist

Episode 2. [Repeated patterns] ->

#Spotify #step up moose #moose #x black reader #black girl x #x black girl #black girl ballerina #black ballerina #dancer aesthetic #step up #black reader #black reader insert #ballerina #moose x black reader #the way you move #moose x reader #the way you move series #Youtube #SoundCloud

[king-wilhelm]

Extremely unpopular opinion but Annabeth chase is SO annoying God bless. Like she's a well fleshed out character with both flaws and merits but big yikes on her personality

#Like I'm excited to see a poc. Specifically a little black girl play the protag in such a popular well loved book series but #But oof #Percy jackson #Insert the u ever see a post that looks like someone swung a bat at a hornet's nest meme

[grnherbs]

your own, personal, jesus.

mdni, eighteen plus only.

i want him so fucking bad wtaf. in the same series as rookie!reader

he sits behind you, your legs kicked out and spread as he grips your waist, pulling you closer, the mirror in the corner of his sleek bedroom facing the both of you.

his s.t.a.r.s uniform shirt, rolled up on the sleeves, accentuating the muscled and veined forearms which usually lied below them, his hair tossled over your shoulder as he bites gently into your shoulder, kissing and sucking as he goes.

"you're my favourite rookie" he smirks as he spreads the lips of your pussy open, gathering the clear slick that lies between them, moving up to circle your clit slowly, almost excruciatingly, and you whine quietly around the leather glove forced between your teeth.

"no one spreads these legs like your captain, do they sweetpea?"

he teases again, pace picking up now, causing your legs to feel like jelly, settling back more to have you perched on his laps, his legs between yours, keeping them open, making eye contact with you in the mirror, smirking.

you'd never felt so exposed before, eyes raking over your own body, the black cargos and holsters lining weskers thighs, pressing against your bare body, causing your cheeks to display a shade of red, his hand on your waist as the other continues to please you.

long fingers reach down further now, coming to your opening and pressing a finger inside, stretching you out on the thickness of them, causing a mewled gasp to leave your lips. "there's my good girl, always aiming to please your captain, hm?, practically worshipping my fingers" he moves the hand grasping your waist to turn your jaw, gripping a kiss out of you.

"can my favourite rookie take another finger? just for me?" he awaits your answer, still gently thrusting the one already in you, your brain growing cloudier by the second.

you dumbly nodded to him, clutching at his arm as he inserts another finger into you, the two moving in and out, the raw sound of wetness filling the air, his own hard on pressed against your back, your climax approaching rapidly, watching your body spasm against his.

he sensed the change in your body, a sly chuckle coming out of his mouth. "oh my poor rookie, feeling a little overstimulated? that's just too bad.." he continues to move his fingers in and out of you, free hand grasping your throat more and more, hearing the familiar whines of finish leaving your mouth.

"you're going to cum for your captain, like a good girl, aren't you? going to soak my fingers darling" he coaxed more and more and you rolled your hips in unison with his fingers, feeling it hit you so deep and the sound of your lewdness turning your cheeks an even deeper red.

you nod and gasp out, reaching for his hand on your throat, gripping it for some stability as he drew an orgasm from you, your body shuddering as you spill over his hands, hearing his monotone chuckle in your ears once again.

"good girl, that's it, that's my favourite rookie" he reitterated to you and you nod, brain feeling like jelly and you fall back into him, whining.

"such a good little pet for your captain, look at yourself, all fucked out and we've barely even started, stand up and spread yourself for me darling, i'm going to fuck this cunt now."

#albert wesker imagine #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker #albert wesker smut #resident evil albert wesker #dr wesker #dbd wesker #resident evil wesker #wesker smut #wesker x reader #dbd imagine #dbd smut #dbd mastermind #resident evil imagines #resident evil #resident evil smut #s.t.a.r.s wesker #rookie!reader

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (1)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!

Notes and TW: I wanted to write something that simultaneously includes some fun Jade moments as well as my own thoughts on some tropes. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

You’ve known the truth for a while—that this world exists inside a story. This is a world that revolves around a nameless, faceless, flawless main character. This entire world around you exists to serve one purpose: to present trials to the main character until she eventually finds a happy ending with her one and only. This world is created for “(Y/N).”

You are Friend A. Friend A is a foolish girl who puts (Y/N) into a dangerous situation, involving her with the mafia. (Y/N) is saved by a tall, dark, and brooding man who turns out to be a mafia boss. They will face dangers in the underworld until all threats are eliminated, and then they will live out the rest of their lives in blissful peace as though they are good people. Friend A is never mentioned again after page two.

You are Friend A. You are aware of that.

So why don’t you break out of your role in this story? Why should you play your part instead of using this knowledge to change the flow of the plot?

Simply because the plot is beneficial to you.

You are Friend A. You are a core member of the Leech Mafia. When (Y/N) enters the mafia, her actions flick the first domino of a long chain of events, eventually leading to the prosperity of the Leech family and expanding their influence. Because no matter what, this story caters to (Y/N)’s livelihood.

And why should you interfere with something that will eventually pay out big for you?

There she is now, coming down the street with a smile. Her indistinct hair is in a messy bun that she always throws together in seconds. Her pants emphasize her incredibly tiny waist, and her eyes sparkle with the light of constellations when she sees you. A light blush dusts her cheeks even though she doesn’t wear makeup, and she passes all the people captivated by her on the sidewalk, oblivious to their stares, because she doesn’t believe in her innate beauty and charisma—the beauty and charisma that the story says she has.

“Oh, there you are!” Her voice, clear and sweet, rings out to you. You wave back, just as you are supposed to. “You said you wanted to get sweets from the bakery that just opened, right? I’m so excited. I love sweets! I saved up some money just for this.”

A dialogue line full of exposition. You nod and lead the way.

“Have you seen their Magicam posts? The cakes are so pretty.”

Her giggles chime like bells. “I think the strawberry one is the cutest!”

Your small talk has little to no substance. It exists only to pass the time. To be honest, you don’t mind. If this were any normal day, you would have enjoyed this. You would have visited that bakery with (Y/N), gone home with a strawberry tart, checked up on the ledgers for the mafia, and slept while fed and content. But today is the inciting incident of the story, and you have your part to play.

A dark alleyway is where these things always take place in stories. Four men smoking and muttering ominously to themselves lean against a brick wall, hidden in shadow. Their eyes follow your every step. You make sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk so that (Y/N) passes by the alley. As expected, their hands shoot out and grab her arm.

“Hey, you there.” One of the thugs licks his chops. “Got a minute to spare, pretty thing?”

Generic “bad guy” dialogue. Of course, he’s talking to (Y/N). You don’t need to do anything yet except make sure the pieces are in place. A flutter of black fabric in the corner of your vision assures you that the main lead is ready and waiting.

“Get your hands off me!” (Y/N) struggles against his much stronger grip to no avail. The men pull us into the alleyway and corner us against a dumpster. Tasteful.

“Don’t be so harsh.” Another thug whose voice scrapes like glass shards to the ears grabs your shoulder. You don’t shrug him off. Right now, your role is to lay low and let the main character shine. “We just wanna show you a good time.”

“You can fuck right off! And don’t touch my friend.” (Y/N) shows off her generically headstrong personality now. She probably thinks that she should protect you. You are Friend A, without any special characteristics, a piece of cannon fodder that cannot do anything on your own. Even though (Y/N) doesn’t consciously think that way, this is how she perceives the world. She is not wrong for doing so—she’s being sweet, in the way that she is designed to be.

You don’t have anything to do while she shoots off her scathing remarks, so you take your time to observe the thugs. Just as the story you read describes, these men come from an easily identifiable rival mafia. All four have a tattoo of a handsaw on their bodies—the symbol of the Carpenter Mafia, the current major group in the Queendom of Roses. Common soldiers, no doubt. Not anyone of importance . . . yet.

Thug Number One brings your attention back to the conversation by yanking on your hair. It hurts a little. Irritating, but you can bear with it. (Y/N) looks outraged.

“How about this? Since you’re so determined to save your friend, I’ll let her go if you give yourself to us.” He continues with his harassment by grabbing your cheeks with his grimy fingers. You inhale deeply and immediately regret it due to the smell of his breath. Your mind urges you to refrain from giving him a nice fist to the face. Not just from his treatment of you, but also from his gross proposition to (Y/N). Despite your respective roles in this story, she is still your friend. Hearing him throw those slimy words at her leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

(Y/N) puts up a struggle. “I won’t give you anything!”

“Do you think you’re in a position to make demands?”

She hesitates, looking at you with conflicting emotions warring on her features. Takes a deep breath, just as the story says she would. Then, with a wavering voice and a tough façade, she agrees.

You take your cue to run from the alleyway, abandoning her the way Friend A is meant to do. You don’t have to worry. After all, the thugs won’t be able to do anything before the male lead steps in and saves her.

There isn’t much time to waste until you get an update on the story. You hail a taxi to a neighbourhood by the sea. You tip the driver handsomely, bid him a good day, then walk another block before arriving at a mansion. There’s nobody here to greet you except the security guards at the front gates.

You scan the trees. Looks like he’s in a good mood. When he’s upset, he doesn’t usually climb. He hasn’t noticed you yet—his back is turned, his head buried in a particularly thick patch of leaves, and you’re downwind.

“Floyd!”

He turns so suddenly that you’re worried he’ll get whiplash. A grin lights up his face, and without a single reservation, he jumps right off the tree and lands smoothly on your side of the fence surrounding one of the Leeches' many properties. The sun shines across his handsome, sharp features. Of course, the twin brother of the male lead must be gorgeous in accordance with the axioms that govern this world.

“Handfish, how was it? Did Jade meet her?” Even though you are Friend A in this story, to Floyd, you are just his friend. He hasn’t given you a generic nickname like the “minnows” that he calls the family’s soldiers and staff. To him, you are an individual who is interesting enough to grant a personal nickname. Even if that nickname is “Red Handfish.”

“Yeah, he did. I saw his blazer.” You think back to the black fabric you saw before entering the alley. “I bet he’s doing the whole ‘I can’t let you live’ conversation with her.”

In the story, one of the thugs reveals Jade’s identity as a mafia boss in front of (Y/N) before he passes out. How a common foot soldier of the Carpenter mafia can recognize Jade, whose face is kept classified from lower-ranked members of the underworld, is worrying enough to warrant investigation. This could simply be a result of poor writing from the original plot, but you are also an example of the original story’s loose ends. If someone like you, who was meant to disappear after page two, can still have any significance and will instead of vaporizing immediately after you left that alley, then you can’t be too careful.

“Bet he’s being real smooth with it.” Floyd cackles, his raspy laugh reminding you of a chain smoker after five consecutive packs. “She’s gonna fall for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Of course. We’re talking about Jade.” Even under regular circumstances, he’s charming enough to lure any poor, unsuspecting fool to their demise. “They’re going to come here any minute now. Let’s go inside.”

You pass the security guards and enter the Leech property. A perfectly paved ground with colourful stones and not a weed in sight. A marble fountain surrounded by neat, rectangular hedges. And of course, the enormous white mansion with huge double doors, which in turn have proportionally huge fancy glass windows. For (Y/N) to have a “perfect” ending, the world must allow her to escape her current life of scrimping and saving by marrying her into a wealthy family.

“I wonder what the little minnow looks like.” Floyd hums, sauntering into the living room. “I bet she’d break easily if I squeezed real hard, huh?”

“Don’t do that.” The two of you sit on a velvet couch. Floyd’s long limbs sprawl out and take up the majority of the space. You settle on the far end. “And are you going to keep calling her a minnow?”

“Dunno, haven’t met her yet.”

“She’s very pretty. When you meet her, I’m sure you’ll get the feeling that there’s something special about her.”

The story emphasizes how much Floyd adores (Y/N). She is supposed to become a sort of mood stabilizer for him, keeping him consistently happy in her presence. You wonder if that will actually happen. Floyd can and will throw tantrums around people he holds dear. His mood that flips at the drop of the hat seems difficult to stabilize on just affection alone.

He shrugs non-committedly. Just as you’re about to suggest a nickname he could use, your phone buzzes.

Five minutes away. Jade’s text is short and to the point. You stand and stretch, getting ready to play Peeping Tom.

“Remember, don’t say anything about the original plot, okay?” Floyd’s unpredictable nature worries you. You know that your reminder won’t do much if Floyd decides it would be fun to spill the beans anyway, but you can’t help yourself.

“I know, I know.” He frowns and waves you off. Laughing, you move to the room across the hall. He hates being told what to do, but he’s in a good mood right now. It won’t be a problem.

The front door creaks open. Through a crack in the door, you watch Jade carry (Y/N) in his arms like a princess and set her down on the couch. Smooth, easy, efficient, the way he likes to do everything. Even though you know he is acting, his movements, the soft look in his eyes, are almost believable to you. And you’ve known him for fifteen years. There’s an odd stirring in your chest. Guilt? Envy? You tamp it down.

For a fraction of a second, you swear you make eye contact with him. If he notices you, he doesn’t show it. He seems to redouble his efforts on acting sweet to (Y/N). It might just be your imagination.

Floyd pokes around at the two of them the way he always does when he’s curious about something new. His grating laugh fills the air while Jade bandages a scrape on her knee. Good, the scene is going exactly as described in the story. (Y/N)’s first colourful and memorable experience with her future family. Her new family must be fun, rich, kind to her, and love her unconditionally no matter the circumstances. Her new family has to be better in every way compared to her current one—a mother who passed away at childbirth and a scummy father who neglects her. For an author, these are simply lazy ways to give her a tragic backstory and simultaneously pretend her parents don’t exist for the rest of the story because they don’t add to the romance.

How horrible. How could a late mother and neglectful father not affect a person? How could they simply be written off as another thing the male lead “saves” her from? And for that matter, how can the author casually write in a scene where she is cornered by adult men who are physically far stronger than her, who harass her and make disgusting comments, just so she can meet the male lead? How can they just pretend that won’t lead to any trauma?

You know firsthand how (Y/N) lives her life, because despite the story labeling you as the disposable Friend A, you genuinely have been her friend for the past year. You’ve seen her live on plain rice porridge for days to cut grocery costs. You’ve seen her wear clothes until they are threads because she can’t afford to buy new ones. Oh, but isn’t it wonderful that she’s skinny and looks good in everything?

What a load of bullshit.

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst fanfic #floyd leech #twst jade #(y/n)'s the main character but you aren't her #slow burn #you're gonna have to read some plot #before you get to the fluff #this is actually just my excuse to write something sort of meta

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 1

A/N: New series alert! This is a time travel/soulmate AU with Elvis and a reader insert. I've had this one in my head for a while, so I hope you enjoy it! It'll get spicy soon, but this chapter is mostly setup. Hang in there! I think this'll be good! Special thanks to my beta reader, @ccab for helping me with this one, as always.

Warnings: none really. This is mostly fluffy setup! Oh yeah, there's an erection lol

Word count: ~2.7k

You've been an Elvis fan for your entire life. Your grandmother was a big fan and it's something the two of you shared while she was alive. Since she passed, you've become even more obsessed, traveling to Graceland and anywhere Elvis performed whenever you have a chance. It's weird, but you have this strange feeling like there's something that ties you to him, despite the fact that he died 10 years before you were born. You don't really tell people this, but everyone who knows you knows how much you love him. Your roommate is consistently amazed at the lengths you'll go to in order to experience something related to him.

"You're really going to miss class for half a week to go to Tupelo?"

"Yes. I don't know why, but I need to be there at the same time he was."

"Y/n, it's 2007. He's not going to be there."

"I know that, Katie. I can't explain it. Just mark me present in algebra, please." She shakes her head with her eyebrows raised.

"If you insist."

******

It's 1957 and Elvis has had a small break since his last show, so he spent it at his new home in Memphis. The house is everything he's ever dreamed of for his family, so he's almost reluctant to go back on the road. Still, he's promised to do another show in his hometown after the one last year was so successful. Going back to Tupelo is always a strange experience for him, especially now that his financial situation has changed so much. His memories there are difficult, at best, so it's strange to go back as a famous performer.

He shakes his head to refocus on the conversation he's in about getting things ready to leave. The Colonel is there and he'll need to get in a car with him soon. No time to ponder the philosophy of how much things can change in a few short years.

"My boy, are you ready to leave? We need to make sure we have plenty of time to get there before the show."

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let me grab my suitcase." He picks up the piece of luggage and wraps his mother in a hug. She whispers in his ear.

"Love you, booby. We'll see you soon." He nods and kisses her cheek. Then, he makes his way to the car and slides into the back seat. Next stop: Tupelo.

******

When you get to Tupelo, you head straight to the fairgrounds where Elvis played his show in '57. There's something magical about being there exactly 50 years later. You wander around the site, closing your eyes to imagine what it must have been like to be there to see him. There's a strange pang in your heart like you miss him, even though you've never met him.

******

Elvis is putting on his best show for all the screaming girls in the audience. He's dressed in a gold jacket and black pants and he's not holding back at all in his performance. He sings, he dances, he wiggles, and the girls go wild.

Something about the energy of the crowd and the feeling of being on stage has him excited. He does his best to hide it during the performance and is pretty sure he manages to keep anyone from noticing. But as soon as the show is over, he knows he's going to need to find somewhere private to either take care of himself or at least adjust his pants so that it's less obvious. He runs down the steps of the stage and heads behind it to try to find some kind of place to do what he needs to do.

As he's walking around quickly, he gets the strangest feeling in his stomach and then runs smack into a girl.

******

You're wandering around where the stage would've been when you run into him. The shock of meeting another person here at the fairgrounds after dark is nothing compared to what you feel when you look up at him as he grabs your upper arms to steady you.

"Honey, be careful. I'm on a mission here."

"Holy shit. You're..."

"Yes. Now I have to..." He looks you up and down and realizes the strange outfit you're wearing. Then he looks up and realizes the stage has disappeared. He looks around frantically, forgetting that he needs to posture himself to hide his erection.

"You're... how? Oh God." You can't believe what's happening. You're pretty sure you must have fallen asleep somewhere. You pinch your arm, just to be sure. But no, this is Elvis Presley. And he has a massive erection.

"What the hell is going on here, honey?" He looks into your eyes fearfully.

"I don't know. Are you really... you?"

"I'm Elvis Presley, if that's what you're asking. Where are we?"

"We're in Tupelo. At the fairgrounds."

"No, that's where I just was." He looks around again and you look down, blushing.

"Are you... are you okay?" You ask sheepishly. He gasps and turns away from you to rearrange himself. When he turns back around, he grabs you by your upper arms and looks into your eyes again.

"What is happening?" Just then, the security guard calls to you from across the grounds.

"Hey! You can't be here!"

"Oh, shit, we need to go. Come with me." You grab his hand and pull him toward the exit. He follows along reluctantly.

"I'm sorry; I know this is weird, but we need to go." You break into a jog and he jogs along with you, still holding your hand. When you finally make it back out to your car in the parking lot, you stop and catch your breath.

"Okay, honey, what the hell is going on?"

"I need you to not freak out when I tell you this." He shrugs.

"I can't make any promises."

"You, well, you travelled through... through time."

"I don't understand."

"Elvis, it's 2007. You've travelled 50 years into the future."

His face goes white and you're afraid he's about to pass out, so you quickly open the car door and let him fall into your front seat.

"The future?"

"Yes."

"2007?!"

"Yes."

"That's why you're dressed so strangely. And why this car is... different..." He looks around your car incredulously. You nod.

"Is this a thing people do in the future? Travel through time?!"

"Oh absolutely not. I don't know how this happened. Also my outfit is not strange. Your outfit is strange." He smiles a little and then leans back against the seat, wiping his forehead with his hand. You walk around the car and slide into the driver's seat. He turns and looks at you.

"Well, I guess I'm stuck here. Where are we going?"

"You're really Elvis Presley?"

"I'm pretty sure." You shake your head, trying not to cry, but the tears start to stream down your face. "Aw, honey, don't cry. Why are you crying?"

"I can't believe it's you. I've loved you forever."

"How do you know who I am?" You open your mouth to answer and then close it quickly. You'll have to be careful with what you say, so you don't tell him too much about his future. Assuming you'll be able to get him back where he came from.

"My grandma was a big fan of your music in the '50s."

"Oh. Your grandma?! I'm sorry. I keep forgetting what year you said it is."

"It's 2007. Exactly 50 years from where you were."

"50 years. Wow. So I'm 72?! Wherever I am." You swallow hard. You can't tell him. You decide to change the subject.

"I need to go home. I guess you'll have to come with me. Unless you object?"

"Where else am I going to go?"

"That's a good point. Back to campus we go."

"Campus?"

"Yeah, I'm in college. You're gonna have to stay at my dorm. I hope that's not too weird." He looks at you with an incredulous smile.

"Everything about this is weird."

"That's valid." You both laugh as you start the car and drive away.

******

When you pull into a parking space on campus, it's close to 1am. He yawns. You forget how tired he must be. You've actually been able to talk quite a bit on the drive and you're surprised at how easy he is to talk to.

"Are we going to have to sneak?" He looks at you curiously.

"Well, no. This is a coed dorm. No one cares."

"A coed dorm?! What has the future come to?"

"Oh, honey, you have no idea." You make your way to the elevator and ride up to your floor. When you get to your door, you realize you're going to have to come up with a story for your roommate.

"Okay. You're an ETA. Follow my lead."

"I'm sorry. A what?"

"Elvis tribute artist. Impersonator. Basically you're a guy that likes to dress up as you." He laughs.

"That exists?"

"Ha. Yeah. Try not to ask too many questions." You put your key in the door and open it carefully. Hopefully, Katie is already in bed and you won't have to have this conversation.

But she's not.

"And just what kind of hour do you call- oh. Hello." She stops her sarcastic greeting when she realizes you're not alone.

"Katie, this is... John. John, this is Katie, my roommate."

"Nice to meet you, Katie." He extends his hand and she takes it slowly. She turns to you.

"I didn't expect you to pick up a stray in Tupelo."

"Yeah, well, look at him. How could I say no?" Her eyes wander back to Elvis and she shrugs.

"I can't say that I blame you. Okay, well, you two don't have too much fun. I'm going to bed now that I know you're home safely." She turns and heads into her bedroom. Thankfully, you live in a suite style dorm, so you each have your own room. You gesture for him to follow you and head into your room.

"You're going to have to stay in here with me. If you sleep on the couch, it'll be too weird. I'm sorry."

"Does she think...? Is this something you do a lot?" He looks at you with a glint in his eye.

"I mean, not a lot. No. Honestly, like never." You feel yourself blush and you look at your feet. He puts his hand under your chin and tips your face up to look at him.

"It's okay. I'm learning quickly that the future is different. I don't mind staying in here with you." Your stomach flip flops when he touches you and you're overwhelmed with a need for him to kiss you. He seems to feel something too because he turns from you and clears his throat.

You go to your drawers and dig for something he can wear. Luckily, you wear a lot of men's sweatpants and oversized t-shirts to sleep, so you get an outfit together for him and show him the bathroom to change. When he comes back out, you laugh. He seems so out of place dressed so casually. You change into pajamas and wash your face, coming back out to find him settled into half of your double bed. You crawl into the bed next to him and he turns over on his side facing you.

"Thank you for taking care of me. You didn't have to do that. You don't know me from Adam."

"Well, I somehow feel like this is my fault. I'm not sure how, but I feel responsible. And I do know you, kind of. Thank you for trusting me to take care of you." He smiles.

"I didn't have much choice. But it's strange. I feel like I know you, somehow. Like we met once and forgot about it. But I know that's not possible. Either way. I'm glad to be here with you." The feeling that you want him to kiss you is back. But he doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes and is asleep pretty quickly. You roll over and try to go to sleep too, ignoring the racing thoughts in your head.

You really have Elvis Presley in your bed.

******

When you wake up, you're tucked up under his chin with his arm around you. You're not sure how you got this snuggled up, but it feels nice and for a second you forget who he is. He stirs about the same time you do and stretches, wrapping his arms around you tighter. When you realize the situation, you sit up.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, honey, it was nice." He yawns and pulls you back down to him. You relax against his chest and he kisses the top of your head.

"You don't even know me." You whisper.

"Yes, I do. And I like you. Is that okay?" You nod and wrap your arms around him.

"What are we doing today?" He seems to be taking being stuck in 2007 in stride. What you don't know is that he's actually really grateful for the break from his performance schedule. And he can't explain it, but he knows you somehow. Or at least, that's how it feels.

"Oh, well, I already missed my 9am class, so I guess we will hang out around town. We need to go to the mall and get you some clothes. You can't be wandering around in that ridiculous gold jacket." He laughs.

"What do guys wear these days?" You think about the skinny jeans and band tees and you're not sure what to tell him. This might be harder than you thought.

******

At the mall, you take him to a store that sells guy's clothes and watch him as he marvels at the modern styles. He's immediately drawn to the studded belts and you laugh, thinking of the studded jumpsuits he'll wear in the '70s. You find some jeans that aren't too skinny and he stands looking at the wall of band t-shirts.

"All of these are rock'n'roll groups?!"

"Well, we don't call it that anymore, but pretty much."

"Which ones do you like?" You point to a few of them and tell him about the music you listen to that isn't his.

"Can we listen to them?"

"Of course! But clothes first." You take him to the fitting rooms and he picks out a few pairs of pants and some button down shirts. You also let him pick out a studded belt and he goes with a pink one with silver studs. When you get to the checkout counter, he's absolutely shocked at how much it costs. You assure him that this is normal and pay for his things. As you walk out, he leans over and whispers.

"If I ever get back to '57, I'll never complain about the cost of things ever again." You laugh and take the hand he offers as you walk through the mall. He's amazed at how many stores there are and all the noise and technology that's around you. He keeps stopping and looking at things, so it takes you a while to make it through. He stops at a calendar kiosk and finds a calendar with photos of himself. You quickly yank it away from him and put it back.

"You can't see that."

"Aw, honey, why not?"

"I can't let you learn anything about your future." He looks at you with concern.

"Is it that bad?"

"Well, not exactly. I just don't want to ruin anything for you. You have to live it."

"If I ever get back."

"You must, or this calendar wouldn't exist. We'll figure something out." He puts his arm around your shoulders as you move on through the mall.

When you get back to the car, you pull a cd from the holder on your car visor and put it in for him to listen to. His eyes widen as the fast-paced drums and guitar chords start.

"Wow."

"This is what you started. You made this happen."

"It's so... it's a lot. But I like it. A lot." He starts moving to the music and you laugh.

"I'd love to see these guys live."

"I have. It's pretty great." He looks at you with envy as you start to sing along to the music. Somewhere inside him, he kind of hopes you won't be able to find a way for him to get back. Everything in this time intrigues him and the thought of leaving you is certainly not appealing, especially once he hears you sing.

Maybe he'll just stay with you forever.

******

Until Chapter 2!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know!

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis fans #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis presley x you #elvis fanfiction #elvis fic #elvis presley fanfic #how the web was woven

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Seven: Saturday

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Moon Boys x F!Reader

Summary: You’re a workaholic, but now that you’re on a week’s vacation, your lives are going to take FULL advantage of your presence aka the Moon Boys keep you in bed for a whole week.

Warning: smut - oral (f receiving), squirting

Series Masterlist

You're cooking up dinner while Marc stepped out for errands. You sway your hips to the record playing. You're only in one of Jake's shirts and underwear. You hum along to the music as you add some seasoning to the stir fry.

Unbeknownst to you, Marc arrived back home, only he was no longer fronting. Jake stares at you with dark lustful eyes. He slowly approaches you like a predator with its prey.

His gloved hands rest make their way to your hip, causing you to jump in surprise.

"Shit, honey. You scared me."

Jake hums and kisses your neck, "Always need to be vigilant, amor."

You smile wide, lowering the heat on the stove and turning to face Jake. Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, "Well hello there, Mr. Lockley."

"Hello, mi amor," he presses his lips to yours, hands sliding back to grip your ass. He gives you a spank and you yelp, pulling away from him.

"I'm cooking."

"It can wait."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Not for food," he replies with a smirk. He reaches around and turns off the stove. He then picks you up and carries you to the counter.

You hiss, "The counter's cold!"

"I'll warm you up," Jake says as his gloved hands slide up your legs and stop at your underwear. He hooks his fingers and pulls the garment off, tossing it to the floor.

You chuckle as he presses his lips to yours, his fingers sliding in between your legs. He teases your core as he moves his lips against yours. He pulls away to kiss your jaw, lips trailing down your neck to your chest.

His gloved fingers circle around your clit and you throw your head back in a moan.

"That's it, baby. Lemme hear you," he murmurs against your skin. He's rubbing slow circles against you. You grip his shoulders as he continues to pleasure you.

He dips his middle finger into you and then looks down to see your slick shine against his black leather gloves. You watch as he licks your juices off his fingers and, with his teeth, pull the gloves off.

He kneels down and pulls you by your legs so they hang over his shoulders. He delves in and your breath hitches when you feel his tongue tasting you. You weave your fingers through his black girls and give them a tug. He moans into your core.

He licks up your slit and then begins to circle his tongue around your clit. He looks up at you, feeling a sense of pride as you rest your head against the cabinets, eyes closed, and mouth open in pleasure. He just loves to see how you fall apart for him.

He spreads your lips wider to taste more of you. Your slick smearing along his mouth. He doesn't care how much of a mess you make on him. He loves being marked by you.

While he eats you out, he inserts a finger in you for more added pleasure. He slowly pumps it in and out, gaging your reaction to the sensation.

When you moan and tug at Jake's hair, he takes it as a sign that you can take another finger. So he inserts a second one and you hiss in pleasure, "Fuuuuck yes! That's it, Jake! Just like that."

He stares up at you while he fucks you with his fingers and mouth. You're so beautiful while you're falling apart for him. Sweat forming along your hairline, your chest heaving as your breathing grows harder.

With his other hand, Jake reaches up and slides his hand under your shirt or, rather, his shirt. He grips your breast and then tweaks your nipple.

"Holy fuck, Jake. Shit! So good!" you cry out.

He starts pumping his fingers faster now, "Cum, amor, cum for me. Lemme taste you," he mumbles against your core.

His tongue flicking at your clit while he fucks you with his fingers. Your nails dig into him while you arch your back. Your eyes closed shut as you cry out in pleasure. Your legs shaking around Jake's face as he helps you through your orgasm. A burst of wetness coats his face and Jake is smiling with pride.

As your body calms, he slowly pulls his fingers out and leans back. His face and neck coated in your wetness.

You're panting and looking at him with a tired smile, "Sorry, baby."

He chuckles, wiping at his face and then licking his fingers, "Don't be. You know I love it," he gives you a wink and stands. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, "You okay?"

You nod, "Yeah," you sigh and look to the stove on your right, "I should finish dinner."

Jake shakes his head, "No, no. Clean up. I'll finish." He helps you down from the counter top and makes sure you don't collapse at his feet. He silently asks you if you're okay.

You smile, "I'm good. Thank you," you peck his lips.

He hums, "I should be thanking you."

You snort and roll your eyes, "We both got something out of it. You sure you don't need me to-"

"Go take a quick shower. I'll clean up here and finish dinner."

"Okay, okay," you hold your hands up in surrender, "Love you, Jake."

"I love you too, amor," he kisses your head and gives your butt a gentle spank before you head to the shower.

#smut #moon boys x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #f!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

[i-jus-wanna-writehappy]

Abundance

incubus!Gojo Satoru x black!fem!reader

Warnings/Content: 18+ only cursing, praise kink, some spit (not spit play), blowjob, toy usage, joint (that isn’t relevant until part 2), deep throat, cum eating (both), dirty talk, pet names (baby, pretty girl), porn with plot

Author’s Note: well fuck. I got sick as hell and it pushed back all of my kinktober work. I’ll still publish them all, they’ll just be coming out in through November. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2

•••

You gnaw on the skin at the edge of your thumb nail nervously as you look at the shoddy, yet well intentioned miniature hut you’ve built with the help of YouTube, 20 minutes of sleep, and the 4 shots of tequila you guzzled to quell your anxieties after said 20 minutes. If we’re being honest, it doesn’t seem like the kind of offering a deity of abundance would really like, but it’s the best you could do, and you cross your fingers and snap a picture, hoping it’ll be enough.

Not even 5 minutes after sending your photo does your phone ping with Shoko’s personalized ringtone.

It’s kinda plain. Put some flowers or something. Or a money tree… duh

You grumble at the message, but still jump up and throw your feet into two mismatched shoes before sneaking out to your apartment courtyard and ripping some of the flowers from the display out front. Crouched down, you check to see if anyone is around again, the jumbo beads on the ends of your braids clatter and nearly erase any semblance of stealth that you have as you rush back into your apartment, not even breathing until your back is flat against your door.

Looking at your cozy one bedroom with fresh eyes, you notice that not only is your hut plain, but it’s also sitting on your coffee table where no sun can reach it. Taking your thumb back into your mouth, you kick off your fuzzy slide and wedge sandal and get to arranging in a way that will hopefully make Shoko proud.

She’s an expert by zero means at all. She really just sent you the first abundance ritual post that popped up on Pinterest after listening to you freak out about how long you and your colleagues have been striking at the office and what are you going to do with only a side hustle and a half? You’re both as knowledgeable as each other when it comes to summoning anything but a free drink at a club, but only one of you thought to check Pinterest and now maybe the other one is looking for some validation because even if it’s shoddy, she worked really hard and would like to hear that she did good.

So though you send the photo of your hut, now preciously decorated with maybe too many flowers and sitting in the sun with only a “Fuck you, she’s pretty 🥹”, Shoko is quick with her reply, knowing exactly what you’re looking for.

Much better, very pretty. You did a pretty good job honestly.

The praise has a smile growing wide on your face, you did do a pretty good job for your first go at it. You stayed up all night and even added a few symbols (sigils? Fuck if you know) to the bottom for good measure. That kind of dedication deserves a reward, so you decide to take yourself out on a date. These have been a hard few weeks and until the deity, fairy, or whoever does it, you will give yourself an abundance. Of love and care that is.

As you return home an hour or two after the sun has set with two handfuls of bags and leftovers from your lunch with Shoko, you feel satisfied, maybe this was the work of your sweet little hut. “Give back to the universe what it gave to you.” You whisper before places a small wet kiss to the smooth, misshapen roof of what you have now decided to call a cottage, potentially thanks to a few dinner mimosas that were not your idea, but we’re happily consumed.

With your day having been lived and the universe having received your thanks, early or otherwise, you drop your clothing and beauty supply bags beside your couch and set your leftovers on the counter to wait for you until after your shower. You let out a long groan of anticipation as you try to undress without the hands currently pushing your braids into your bonnet.

You’re absolutely right to anticipate your shower. The steaming water is loosening knots in your shoulders you didn’t even notice were there. Just as you go to reach for your body wash and wash rag, a shiver runs down your spine and ends as a warm buzz between your legs. The intensity catches you by surprise, almost making you slip out of your bathtub and wiping away your soft intoxication.

Catching yourself quickly, you push your urges down, you have plans for her already; leftovers, specialty ice cream, a rose-petal wrapped joint, and the cute little rose toy you picked up today. It’s nothing fancy, but you figure that your date should end the right way, and you deserve to be wined and dined before putting yourself to sleep as you throughly plan to. It’s hard, let’s not downplay the severity of this arousal, you’re stalled for nearly two entire minutes, fearing any movement right now ruining your plans, but your brain wins and you’re able to finish your shower with major discomfort, but no worries.

Out of your shower and donned in your favorite panties and flirty nightgown, you begin to set up your bedroom for your eventful night, lighting candles and putting your comfort show on the television all of your friends hate that you keep in your room (until they’re all staying over) while your leftovers spin in your microwave. All the while, you can’t get rid of the infuriating itch in your lower belly, demanding attention. “Guess abundance can mean anything.” You mutter as you cut your eyes over to your cottage while removing your food from the microwave.

There’s no one to blame but yourself, you figure as you shut off the rest of the lights in your apartment, and while the abundance isn’t fully working out how you want right now… that doesn’t mean you won’t wake up to a 30 million dollar check in the mail from a secret admirer.

Though you don’t have time to be amused by your thoughts, instead, you’re frozen in your doorway, petrified by the two icy blue eyes glowing in the darkest corner of your room. As your eyes meet, another wave of arousal rushes over you, threatening to knock you off of your feet, but you’ll be damned if you drop your leftovers, opting instead to squeeze your thighs together softly as his mouth cracks open into a wide smile, teeth just as bright as his eyes.

The man begins to approach you, each step feeling like a vibration in your core, and as your mind reels, you figure that he has to be the deity. Granted, now that he’s out of the darkness, he does look good enough to eat - tall and lean, black dress pants running along the incredible length of his legs to gleaming shoes and a white button-up shirt that looks soft enough to wrap your pillow in, just enough buttons open to show the peek of a silver necklace glinting beneath - but you’d be lying if you said you thought a real person could turn you on to this extent. He stops once the cool tips of his shoes rest against your toes, his burning gaze lazily dropping to the soft pink polish on your toes before dragging its way up past the hem of your nightgown to your chest, lingering there as his Cheshire smile grows even wider and his eyes make one final jump to meet yours. “Hey.”

Having him so close to you is an adjustment you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to make as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing. You have no idea what to say in response, and before you can think about it, or simply whimper instead, your mouth moves without your permission, “Are you a fairy?”

The man throws his head back in a boisterous laugh, his lower lip poking out in a mocking pout when he meets your eyes again, “Awe, pretty girl,” A cool thumb caresses your cheek, your body still adjusting to his pressure, “Were you supposed to be summoning a fairy?” Nodding, your shoulder lifts in a halfhearted shrug, “Or a deity. Of um, of abundance.”

He removes his hand from your face and clicks his tongue, not relinquishing his pout as he pulls one of your cottage flowers from his pocket. “And here I thought you were trying to set the mood.” As he maneuvers the flower behind your ear, you realize that you hadn’t even noticed that his pockets were stuffed with all of the flowers you’d set up to welcome… whatever he was. Luckily, he answers your question after plucking the long stem from the flower behind your ear, “My name is Gojo Satoru, and I am the finest incubus you can summon.”

You’re not given much time to process, your confused (and betrayed) gaze still out of your bedroom door and set on the naked cottage as Gojo takes your hand and pulls you towards your bed. He takes a seat on the edge, releasing a hum of delighted satisfaction at the soft bounce, and rests you so you’re standing between his open legs, the tv flickering colors across his face, all paling in comparison to his eyes. “I summoned a demon?” Gojo nods, smile ever present and hand not yet leaving yours, “Can incubi also bring money?”

Gojo chuckles, “You ask a lot of questions don’t you?” He pulls another flower from his pocket and rips the stem off with his teeth before placing behind his own ear, “I’ll answer that one and any others you’re allowed to ask until we’re done, okay?” His okay is punctuated by his hand releasing yours and instead mirroring his other to slowly trail up your legs and beneath your nightgown.

“For starters, you’re gonna call me Satoru tonight, or however much of it you’re able to get out later.” A cheeky smirk as he looks up at you through his frosty lashes makes you want to feel his mouth on you and see if it’s as chilled as the rest of him is, but he’s also a demon, so using your newly mastered skill of beating your desires back until you just barely have control, you nod and clench your thighs again, “Okay, Satoru.” His hands have reached the hem of your panties now, fingers bunching the material until he clasps the entire sides in both hands, “Good! Now, as far as money goes, usually, no, but, if you’re a good girl for me, I just might reconsider.”

If you weren’t already struggling to keep your breath softer than a pant, you’d probably be embarrassed at how your legs quiver at the label, especially when Satoru acknowledges the shake with a groan deep in his chest and the tortuously slow descent of your panties, which he follows with the burial of his nose in the crevice between your thighs over your nightgown. After he finishes a deep breath, he releases your panties to land on the floor and catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he chuckles again. “I’m a demon, not a monster, you’re not in any danger.” The end of the statement is very pointed, Satoru’s eyes serious as he says it, though they soften again when you nod, some of the returned tension in your shoulders dropping with the motion of your head.

Satoru’s icy hands have made their way back up your legs, his fingers digging into your ass as he kneads the fat of it, the crotch of his pants tightening in response, “Last answer, no more questions til we’re done; I don’t care about your neighbors, don’t muffle any of the sounds you make. I know I won’t be, so it’ll be a waste if you try.” While you heard Satoru, your entire body’s attention has been focused on his cock trying to break through the zipper of his pants, and with one more nod, this one much less invested than your prior, you drop to your knees in front of Satoru. He goes to protest, but you offer a silent trade, offering him your leftovers, though he doesn’t take the plate until you pull your lust blown eyes from the growing tent in his pants to meet his own. Once your eyes meet, Satoru laughs, almost giddy, and takes your plate, “Are you repaying me for earlier?”

Your fingers fumble with his pants, your anticipation so high, you can barely function. You have to taste him, and you most definitely have to do it now, besides, Satoru is counting on you to be a good girl for him, “I’m gonna try.” You mutter as you finally get his pants undone. Satoru takes a forkful of leftovers into his mouth, those paralyzing eyes of his focused on you.

Taking a note from Satoru’s book, you slowly, tortuously pull his pants down, your lips leaving wet kisses along his snowy happy trail. Satoru is about to say something else, but you finally get his pants down low enough to see he isn’t wearing any underwear beneath his perfectly tailored pants and lick a path from one side of his pelvis to the other, forcing him to cut off whatever he was going to say with a breathy groan.

The noise makes you impatient, yanking Satoru’s pants just low enough for his cock to come springing up onto his stomach, long veiny, and begging to be touched. Flicking your eyes up to his flushed face, you guide his tip into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and pushing your tongue against the sensitive skin just beneath the head of his cock, a smile constricting your mouth even more when the repeated motion causes Satoru to flop back onto your bed with a long whine.

Taking a deep breath in through your nose while you can, you glide his twitching length over your tongue until the cool, yet angry red tip pushes at the back of your throat. The entirety of Satoru can’t fit into your mouth, the very base of him eluding the warm wet embrace, so to make up for it, you sit up on your knees and extend your tongue to lick what your lips can’t reach, spit pooling into the short shorn hairs you can’t quite bury your nose into. Now Satoru moans, low and lulling, setting your plate beside himself on your bed and tossing his head back. As you lift your mouth from his cock slowly, tongue lazily dragging behind, Satoru’s breaths turn into shallow pants. You can’t remember the last time you wanted to savor something so badly, or the last time you wanted to devour something so grossly it’d be hard to look your mother in the eye. Satoru is using one hand to push his fluffy hair off of his forehead and the other is lying limp over the edge of your bed. His moans and whines have your pussy clenching and dripping, aching for the relief that comes when you slip two of your fingers into your heat.

As the stimulation on your g-spot and the dizzying heat of Satoru’s slack jawed stare make you moan around the head of his cock, you suddenly drop your mouth back down on him until his spongy head makes harsh contact with the back of your throat. The feeling pulls a deep growl from Satoru, the edges of his licked lips curling as you repeat the motion, building a steady pace of slow ascension and burning descent until the sounds of your clattering beads, moans, and squelches of your fingers fidgeting in your pussy are joined by the wet, choked cry forced from your lips every time you make that bruising collision.

“So good, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” Satoru praises you, reaching for something on the small end table beside your bed, sharp blue eyes still trained on you and summoning another wave of arousal over your curling fingers. You moan at the feeling, air in the room growing thick and Satoru sits up now, resting his weight on his left arm as he extends the other to you, revealing your new toy. You still your movements, your aching throat enjoying the reprieve as you gaze up at Satoru, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and your tongue lazily sliding along his twitching length. “I wanna taste you while I fuck your mouth, pretty girl, you can use this.”

You don’t go to move for the toy, not because you don’t want to, of course, but once again, as your eyes flicker from his open hand to his face, his eyes, your body’s actions seem to be incredibly limited, only allowing for your pussy to clench tighter around your fingers and your mouth to release a needy whine around Satoru’s cock. Hissing at the vibration, his expression gets serious, “Take it and use it. Give me your hand.” His demand turns your brain back on and you pull your fingers out of yourself with a loud pop, your wetness dripping onto the floor as you present your sticky fingers to Satoru, your other hand dropping into his own to drunkenly grasp the pink toy.

Satoru is smiling again, pulling another cock muffled whimper from you, “Awe, baby, is that all for me?” He coos, cheeks flushed as he licks at some of the sticky arousal that has dripped down to your wrist. You nod, needy moans and whimpers leaving your mouth more often than breath at the moment, and your heat missing something to grip as Satoru’s eyes roll back into his head as he groans hungrily at the taste of you. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re dark and hazy, almost making his cheeky grin look ravenous, devilish. “You should have told me you tasted so good.” He doesn’t leave any room for response - not that you really could in your state anyway - before his head gestures to your hand, still lying in his, “Use your rose, pretty girl. I want you to cum with me.”

Now that your new toy is turned on and pressed against your clit, Satoru gently grips the back of your neck, his thumb gently stroking the skin behind your ear as he savors the taste of your arousal on your fingers, “Relax your mouth, baby, okay?” This time, Satoru let’s you nod in response before his grip on your neck tightens and he thrusts his hips so he hits the back of your throat again, the sensation making you both moan loudly. He barely pulls back before plunging his cold cock head right back into the increasingly more sensitive spot. Relentless, Satoru keeps his pace, whimpering broken fragments of praises and your name as he sucks and licks at your hand, cleaning you up with a greedy attention to detail that almost makes you wish he was licking into you in tandem with the you making your thighs shake.

Almost. But as Satoru’s thrusts begin to speed up and his licks begin to turn into dragging bites to your palm, you relish in the feeling of having his heavy cock twitch in your warm mouth and his balls gathering and spreading the drool seeping out of your mouth with loud slaps. He’s loud, he’s rough, he’s greedy, and as Gojo Satoru clenches his jaw and interlocks your fingers, begging you to cum with him and telling you how good you feel, you’re sure he’s also absolutely divine. His lidded eyes and slack jaw are enough to have you clenching your thighs and moaning loud and long as your orgasm crashes over you, so strong your vision goes white for a moment.

Satoru lets out a low broken moan as he watches your orgasm rush through you, contorting your face and constricting your mouth around him. His short fingernails are digging temporary crescents into the back of your neck as he holds you down on his cock as far as he can manage, “Eyes up here. Watch what you do to me.” Satoru waits patiently, grinding into your mouth slow and hard until you’re able to lull your eyes back to his.

As soon as you make eye contact, Satoru reaffirms his grip on your neck and begins to piston his hips, making his earlier pace seem geriatric. “Fuck, been so good for me, haven’t you?” Satoru pants out, voice soft and raspy. You hum an acknowledgement around him, a nod barely able to be formed due to Satoru’s rapid thrusting, but your whiny confirmation, the beg for his approval buzzing around his aching cock is all Satoru needs. With his jaw slack to release a loud throaty moan and his snowy eyelashes fluttering, Satoru cums down your throat, warm and so, so filling. As he twitches against your tongue, holding you so far down his length tears slip between your lips and add to the salty flavor of him filling your mouth, Satoru chuckles breathlessly, “That’s right… take it all.”

Satoru doesn’t let his hefty cock slip out of your mouth until you’ve swallowed all of the cum he gave you. Untangling your hands, Satoru pulls you up so you’re straddling his lap and he sets to wiping the tears from your cheeks and sweeping the cum that seeped out of the corners of your mouth up with his thumb. “Open up, pretty girl, you’ve got leftovers.” Satoru coos, the cheeky tone he never abandons for long makes you huff in soft indignation, but the compliment has you moving forward to suck the digit into your mouth, being sure to clean it of Satoru’s salty cum, eyes closing at the flavor and pussy fluttering again.

Opening your mouth to release Satoru’s thumb, you rub yourself against his still stiff member, subconsciously scratching the itch he seems capable of continually causing, “I wanna do that again.” You’re insatiable as you hump your way through your sentence, wanting him so badly you can’t stop yourself from gripping his shirt so tightly your knuckles hurt as you run your clit over his bulbous head, high pitched whimpers falling from your lips at every pass.

You lean in to kiss Satoru and lick the smug grin off of his face, but he moves away, reveling in how your pout after chasing his lips doesn’t result in him meeting you excitedly, tongue startlingly warm and licking a path through your mouth. “No baby,” Satoru flips you effortlessly, standing to slowly discard his clothes as he watches you rub your thighs together, “Now I do my job.” Fully naked, adorned only in the thin, glistening chain and the securely placed flower he set behind his ear earlier, Satoru creeps himself up the bed towards you.

One sloppy kiss after another, Satoru hums his way up your body. As he’s passing by your pussy, Satoru pushes your thighs open and with his tongue flat, he licks one mean stripe up your slit before abandoning your lips entirely and setting to nibbling at your neck. Before you can protest though, Satoru slips one of his long fingers into you, immediately curling to where you’re most sensitive, “You gonna be loud for me while I fuck you full, pretty girl?”

#i-jus-wanna-write-fanfics #black girl insert series #black reader insert #black!fem!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #jjk gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x black reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut

[panjakes]

T Ch.2 NMR

Pairing: Puma Hybrid!Niki × Black panther hybrid black!Fem reader

Genre: angst, fluff, crack; strangers to friends to lovers au

Ch. Warnings: aggressive behavior, hostility, sibling beef, cursing , mentions of injuries

HYBED HYBRIDS MASTERLIST

next chapter. Previous chapter.

“So how was your first day?” Yn’s dad ask looking at her from the rear view mirror

“It was okay” she says flatly looking out the window

“Doesn’t sound like it was okay” he says frowning

“She’s mad I called shot gun and embarrassed her in front of her boyfriend” her brother says laughing causing her to scoff

“Boyfriend?!?!” Her dad says

“Kameron shut the hell up. Nobody cares about the front seat. And he isn’t my boyfriend I hardly even know him” she says rolling her eyes again

“You shut the hell up! Bitter ass” he says turning around in his seat to look Yn up and down

“Nobody’s bitter just leave me the fuck alone” Yn says shaking her head

“Stop all that cursing! Damn! Why can’t you guys just get along?” Her dad asks parking the car as they pull up to the house

“She makes it really hard to get along with her” Kameron says rolling his eyes

“Trust I don’t want to get along with you either. Even being in the same fucking car as you is suffocating” Yn says getting out the car before her dad or brother could respond

Her dad sighs as she slams the door extra hard marching up to the front door also slamming that.

“What’s the issue between you and your sister? You two use to be attached at the hip” Their dad says making the boy shrug

“People change and they drift apart. Me and Yn just don’t mix anymore” he says shrugging

“How can you say that she’s your sister” the man asks lightly hitting the sterling wheel

It was quiet before Kameron shrugged making his father sigh

“Gon get, I have to get back to work” the man says

“Alright bye dad” Kameron says getting out the car

“Soooo how was school?” Niki’s mom asks with a smile

“It was actually pretty good! I guess you could say I have to new friends” Niki says throwing his bookbag on the ground

“How many times has mom told you not to throw your things down?” Nikis sister asks

“Too many too count” Niki says plopping down at the island

“If Hana comes in and trip over your stuff again you know she’s gonna be pissed” emi says giggling

“So what’s the name of your friends?” Niki’s mom asks

“Jungwon and Yn”.

“Yn sounds like a girl” emi says smirking

“Yn is a girl” Niki says making his sister and mother ouuuu at him

“Stop! Why’re y’all doing that!?” He asks

“Is she your girlfriend?” Emi asks nudging him

“Emi no! Stop it! We just met today!” He says pushing her back

“What does she look like?” His mom asks

“Uh she’s almost tall as me, she has brown eyes oh! And she’s a panther” Niki says

“Ouuu a panther? Your made for each other” emi says making kissey faces and noise making Niki blush

“Emi quit it!” He mumbles making his mom laugh

“Ow! Niki!! I’m gonna kick your ass!” Hana shouts causing Niki to jump down from his seat at the island

“Uh oh” he says running up the stairs

“Run Niki run!” Emi shouts as Hana runs past her to get to Niki.

She wasn’t fast enough because Niki was able to make it to his room, slamming the door and locking it.

“Ugh! You still have to come out at some point! I’ll get you then!” She says kicking the door

Niki giggles as he hears his mom yell at her for kicking the door. He takes his phone out his pocket jumping onto his bed.

Opening the instagram app, just scrolling through the notifications. He had gained a few new followers from school(only 6). As he was scrolling he came across the “people you may know” section and spotted what looked like Yn.

“Lmao.yn” Niki mumbles to himself

He clicks onto the profile opening it up to see at least 4 pictures of yn. His eyes widen at the amount of followers she had

“2589 followers?! Whoa” he says remembering his 728 followers

Scrolling back to the top of the page, he bites down on his lip debating if he should press the follow button or not.

The intrusive thoughts won and he pressed the button. When he realized what he did, he turned the phone off throwing it down on and jumping up from his bed.

He his over to his desk and starts on his homework. About 20 minutes later his phone went off. He looks over his shoulder at the phone debating if he should check it or not.

After debating for 5 minutes he got up and checked

“Lmao.yn has followed you.”

Niki smiles before putting his phone on the charger and going back to his homework.

He’s definitely going to like highschool.

The next day…

Yn woke up with the same throbbing in her ear and she was only blaming Kameron. She groans going to the bathroom too look at her ear in the mirror.

It looked a little limp and red. She groans running her hands down her face

“Hurry up and get out the bathroom rat!” Kameron says knocking on the door

“Go use mom and dads bathroom I just got in here” Yn shouts

“Your taking too long! It’s my bathroom too!” He shouts

The bathroom had to doors which led to both of their rooms but Yn didn’t feel like sharing this morning so she locked the doors on both sides.

“Yn unlock the door!” She hear her dad shout. She decided to ignore him and continue to do her morning routine. When she was done she unlocked the door to her brothers room and he instantly snatches it open pushing Yn almost making her fall

“Get out” he says turning on the shower

She didn’t feel like arguing so that’s exactly what she did. She went into her room and got dressed and ready.

Grabbing her bookbag and phone she heads downstairs

“Dad have you seen my watch-oh thank you” she says as the man hands her the Apple Watch

“Yn why did you lock your brother out the bathroom? That’s his bathroom too” her mother asks causing her to roll her eyes

“We literally have two other bathrooms tell him stop crying” Yn says grabbing the plate of toast

“Tell her stop being a bitch” Kameron says coming down the stairs

“Boy watch yo mouth, don’t call your sister the B word” her dad says glaring at the boy

“I don’t feel like dealing with this rivalry shit this morning- Yn what’s wrong with your ear?” Her mother asks

“Kameron pulled at it” Yn mumbles

“She started it! She pulled at my tail!” Kameron says

“Now your hurting each other? Just get out! Go to school” their mom says sighing

Kameron shrugs taking his toast going to the car.

“You guys need to work things out” her dad says grabbing his keys and brief case

“It’s too late he hates me” Yn says walking out the door

“Now why would she say that!” Her mom says in disbelief

“She’s angry and you know how she gets when she’s upset” the man says kissing his wife before bidding her goodbye

The ride to school was silent. Nobody talked about what was said this morning it’s was silent. When they pulled up to the school Kameron was the first to jump out and run to his friends.

“Your moms picking you two up, I have to stay at the firm late” he says making Yn nod

“Okay. Love you dad” she says getting out

“Yn!” Her dad shouts causing her too turn around

“Try and have a good day” he says Making the girl nod

Yn turns around looking over at all the different cliques. Her brother and the delinquents. The athletes. The robotics kids. The popular kids.

She didn’t have a clique. Her only friend didn’t even attend this school. She sighs walking slowly to the school.

“Yn!! Ynie!!”

Yn looks up seeing Niki running over to her with a big smile

“Hey Ynie!” He says out of breath from running

“Hi Riki” Yn says smiling back.

Just niki smiling made her morning a whole lot better.

A/N: This was WAAAAY over due but I’m kinda liking the Niki story line now that I have idea

Also this was not proof read so sorry for any mistakes🧍🏽‍♀️

NB! Chapter 2 will be posted on @brownsugarbaybee ‘s blog! So follow her and the tag #HYBED HYBRID SERIES, to stay caught up.

#ambw fic #black reader #ambw #black girls are beautiful #black reader insert #kpop poc #kpop #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines #enhypen #enhypen x black reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen niki #black yn #black kpop fans #blackyn #hybrid!niki #hybed hybrids series #hybrid!enhypen

[chaninfused]

Dead Men Don't Speak | Series Masterlist

— The story of a mafia, a green sky, and a girl in a burgundy coat.

[All the works under the cut are mine. Do not copy, repost, or translate my work.]

➥ go to main masterlist

Series Information

Summary: The life of a mafia member and the eight boys who cross her path, for better or for worse. Alternatively — Your partner is dead, or so you've been told.

General Disclaimers: Female reader insert. Mafia au. Angst and dark themes. Graphic depictions of blood, violence, and death. Usage of vulgar language. Specific disclaimers will be written on each part. Chapters not in the chronological sequence of the story's events.

Schedule: Updates every two weeks on Saturdays. Dates specified on each part. [CURRENTLY ON HOLD FOR FINALS]

Chapters

⭓ The Sky is Green | Seo Changbin

— The one-eyed brute and the girl in the burgundy coat.

⭓ Dead Men Don't Speak | Lee Felix

— The detective's assistant and the Shadow Front's left claw.

⭓ Cross My Heart, | Hwang Hyunjin

— The boy who wanted to become a god and his new friend.

⭓ And Hope to Die | Han Jisung

— The living ghost and his purpose.

⭓ The Altar of Angels | Lee Minho (4.5.24)

— The mafia prince and the jester.

⭓ The Undoing of Gods | Yang Jeongin (18.5.24)

— The fugitive and the god of chaos.

⭓ The Waltz of Devils | Bang Chan (1.6.24)

— The detective and the black iris.

⭓ Of the Un-Blue Sky | Kim Seungmin (15.6.24)

— The liar and his neighbors.

➥ go to main masterlist

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #lee minho imagines #lee know imagines #seo changbin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #han jisung imagines #lee felix imagines #kim seungmin imagines #yang jeongin imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz series #stray kids series #stray kids mafia #skz mafia #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #bang chan x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #source: chaninfused

[aswho1estuff]

The way you move masterlist

The playlist

Plot summary

Hand me the phone : the deal has been made

~*The original moodboard: in which this was all it was suppose to be originally *~

1. I like the way you move : in which Moose sees Alice for the first time.

2. Repeated patterns : in which Alice's pattern is broken with the introduction of Moose.

3. Shawty get loose : "shawty get loose, hit the dancefloor and act like there's nobody else in there."

#moodboard #black dancers #black ballerina #black girl #x black girl #black girl x #step up moose #moose #black insert #step up imagine #step up #masterlist #the way masterlist #moose x black reader #black fem reader #dancer aesthetic #opposites attract #the way you move series

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 36: The End **

I am glad you are here with me, here at the end of all things, Sam. Frodo Baggins - The Return of the King

Series Master List

Epilogue Warnings have their own post - Word count: 17.5k (I saved the longest for last 😊)

Having electricity wasn’t a new thing to you both, the QZ’s had electricity, albeit black outs where common. But electricity in Jackson, in a community where everyone worked towards a common goal of making things better, it was like a return to a more normal life. Supplies were still scarce, daily hunting trips a necessity, but suddenly you could cook food, freeze it, preserve it and lay away stores for the winter. A large cold storage had already been built and as the summer drew to an end and the trees started to shift in color, it was being filled with the harvest of the community garden and the berries collected in the wild during hunting trips. And all the projects picked up speed when power tools could be maintained and used. Although Frankie cursed the raw blisters on his hands after he and a few other of the strongest men had worked at felling trees by hand, fuel was still a rarity so axes had to be used for that.

But it was also the simple act of coming home and the house, yours and Frankie’s house, being lit up by lamps, the warmth hitting you as you opened the door and the smell of cooking drifted out along with music, actual vinyl record music.

You poke your head around the corner, into the living room, and find Frankie hunched over, holding on to Jack’s chubby hands, as the baby’s unsteady legs wobble with each step.

“C’mon, Jack, look at you go!” Frankie smiles, “You’ll be walking in no time, gordito!”

Jack gurgled, grinning widely, proudly showing his two tiny teeth, the sources of many sleepless nights lately. Frankie looks up as you step into the room, turning Jack around to face you.

“C’mon, Jackie, walk to your mamá, show her how good you are,” he gives you a wide grin, “He’s been standing up all afternoon, holding onto the couch.”

“You’re growing so fast, Jack,” you smile, crouching down as he wobbles towards you, holding onto Frankie’s hands. The baby stumbles into your chest and grabs onto your hair as you pick him up, holding him tight and kissing his chubby cheek. Being Jack’s mamá had become second nature, the little boy inserting himself into your life just as easily as Frankie and you had settled in Jackson.

You’d worried briefly over how Frankie would fare with sleepless nights, his nightmares and troubled sleep hadn’t gone away. But it was as if his body clicked into another gear, remembering sleepless nights with his own daughter. He’d be wide awake as soon as Jack whimpered, out of the bed and picking him up before you’d barely opened your eyes. Half asleep you’d listen as Frankie padded around the room across the hall, soothing Jack, singing endless renditions of Arroz con Leche until even you knew it by heart. On the nights when Jack just wouldn’t settle, Frankie would take him downstairs, heat up some baby food, usually berries with some sweet honey, and wander through the house with Jack in his arms until he fell asleep again. And then he’d tuck Jack back in and you’d briefly wake up as he slipped under the covers, reaching out and curling himself around you. You’d grumble as his cold skin met your bed warm body but he’d just bury his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as your hair tickled his nose. It would put you right back to sleep, his body slowly warming up, his arms around you and his hand in yours as you felt his hot breath over your neck.

It was the most domestic it had ever felt since the outbreak, sometimes you woke up forgetting it had even happened. You’d blink your eyes open to sunlight filtering in through the curtains, a soft pillow under you, Frankie’s arm around you and clean sheets and blankets on top. If Frankie had snuck up and left the bed before you woke up, you’d smell breakfast from downstairs, frying eggs, warm bread, even jam. The crackle of the fireplace would drift up to you as you pulled your robe on and walked on bare feet down the stairs. You’d stop at the entrance to the kitchen, just like you did when you came home, and just take in the sight of Frankie, your husband, making breakfast for Jack, your son, like it was the most normal thing to do and the outbreak had never happened. It made your heart warm and you could watch the scene for hours. But it also made you realize how much you had to lose, now more than ever, and it scared you. You knew both you and Frankie would fight tooth and nail to protect this life that Jackson offered its small, but growing, population, because this was worth fighting for, more than just fighting for Frankie and yourself.

…

The first time Pat took you and Frankie up to the radio tower it was a beautiful morning. You’d left baby Jack with Maria before heading out. The first snow had fallen over Jackson and the surrounding mountains overnight and the weather had turned properly cold. It had taken longer than planned to get out to the radio tower, many things needed to be prepared before the winter in order for the community to survive. With the electricity up and running, alot projects took priority. Houses were mended and isolated, two women with medical training needed help setting up a small clinic, the stable had to be completed and isolated. On top of that were the necessary and constant patrols and guard shifts almost everyone had to participate in as well as going hunting with Pat.

But now, finally, you were on your way up to the radio tower to see if the radio could be made to work. If not, Pat thought it would be good to have a safe house on one of the patrol routes where patrols could seek shelter if they needed too. With you was another Jackson resident, an older man called Eugene. He was a former electrical engineer and to be honest, you thought your participation on this mission might be pointless, if Eugene couldn’t fix the radio, you didn’t think you’d be able to either.

The entire radio tower compound had at some point been surrounded by a chain link fence with barbed wire on top. It looked in pretty bad disrepair by now and was pulled down in places.

“It’d be good if we could get that fixed,” Pat says, looking at the fence, “get a gate in place and make this place a bit more secure.”

“Yeah,” Frankie nodded, “we still have plenty of fence and barbed wire down in the Jackson HomeDepot, pretty sure we could build a gate too.”

You were on Winston together with Frankie for this ride. You were slowly learning to be a better rider and had been practicing whenever you had time, but you preferred riding with Frankie when you had to go outside Jackson. You felt safe sitting in front of him, he had one steady arm around your waist, the other holding the reins. Now you feel him move his hips and nudge Winston onwards, through the main gates and into the small yard in front of the entrance.

“Has anyone been into the radio tower recently?” Frankie asks, looking at the door that’s hanging off its frame and half open.

“No, not since we first came up here,” Pat says as he swings himself off his horse after stopping by the fence, “We’re going to need to clear it out carefully.”

Frankie keeps an eye on the door as Eugene gets off his horse but makes no move to let you get off, “Was the door always open?” he asks, pulling the rifle from its holster and Pat turns around, furrowing his forehead as he looks at the door.

“We had to break it open when we first came up here, but I’m sure we closed it when we left.”

You can feel Frankie tense up behind you as Pat carefully approaches the door, gun raised. He bends and picks up a brick from the ground and tosses it in through the door. A shriek cuts through the air, making the horses skittish, and then the tell tale sound of a clicker.

“Fuck…” Frankie breathes behind you and Pat hastily retreats and swings himself up on his horse. You’ve got your gun raised too now and when the door slams open, the clicker is hit with several rounds, two shots exploding through its head, making it drop on the ground.

All four of you sit in silence, waiting to hear if something else stirs on the inside. After a few minutes Pat gets off his horse again and approaches the door, you can’t help but wonder if he’s really brave or really stupid, but he nudges the dead clicker out of the way and shines his torch into the darkness.

Behind you, you feel Frankie press a kiss to the side of your neck, “Stay here, cariño,” he whispers before he slides off and quietly walks up behind Pat, joined by Eugene, who’s also gotten off his horse again.

“If I remember correctly, there’s a light switch just inside here,” Pat says, and feels around just inside the door. It clicks and the room fills with light and nothing stirs. Frankie waves you towards him and you tie up Winston and join them.

“Eugene, no offense,” Pat says, “but you’re the oldest and least nimble here, could you stay and watch our backs?”

“No offense taken,” Eugene chuckles and takes up post at the door, looking out at the horses and the front yard while Frankie, you and Pat move towards the inner door. It’s a wide double door and it’s undisturbed.

“We did close this one too, hopefully nothing else got in,” Pat says in a low voice as he reaches for it. It opens without issue and nothing moves on the other side. Silently and carefully the three of you go through the building, clearing out rooms and gathering any supplies you come across until you reach the main radio room on the second floor.

“This seems to be the way we left it too,” Pat says and you walk over to the radio. It’s not a military radio but it’s different from the one you worked on in Boston but it doesn’t take you and Frankie long to start it up. The electricity cables from the Jackson Dam run up here too and the console hums to life, but when you flip the switches to receive or broadcast, all you hear is silence, not even static.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you say, “but if you could check all the wires Frankie, and I’ll check that equipment does what it should.”

“Sure, cariño,” Frankie says and while Pat scans the top floor for any supplies, you and Frankie work through the radio.

“I’m gonna go get Eugene,” you finally sigh, on your back underneath the console, “I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong if all the wires are connected and all the equipment works, something else is up.”

“Ok, I’m just gonna double check the connection from the outside, up on the radio tower,” Frankie says as he gives you a hand up from the floor. You jog down the stairs and back towards the front door. Perplexed, you stop by it and look around, Eugene isn’t there but you can’t see any other footsteps in the snow so you turn and look into the building, his snow covered footprints are moving off towards one of the rooms you cleared coming in.

“Eugene?” you call, walking towards the back. You’ve cleared this area so you’re not too worried, but there’s always a risk of the crumbling building deciding to collapse a floor or a ceiling on any explorer. There’s a door you haven’t seen before, half open at the back of a hallway and you carefully poke your head through it. You can see a set of stairs going down and a flashlight moving around in the dark.

“Eugene, you ok?” you call and to your relief you hear Eugene’s voice come back up to you.

“Yeah, yeah, just checking this basement, the door was locked but I got through it. It’s pretty empty down here though.”

“Ok, just come up when you can, we need you to check the radio,” you call back down to him.

“Right, I'll be there in a jiffy.”

You hear it as you turn, the fast, uneven scrambling of feet behind you making your adrenaline spike. The infected runner bolts through the open front door and immediately sees you, launching itself at you with a shriek. Your hand goes for your gun and… you grasp at nothing, panic shoots through you as you realize it’s on the table upstairs where you left it before you crawled under the table.

“Frankie!” you scream as the infected runs down the hallway and you back up, through the basement door, barely slamming it shut in time. But the broken lock won’t let the door close and the runner's hands are scratching through the opening, pushing it back. With a cry you stumble back as it throws itself against the door and get it open. You lose your balance and tumble down the stairs, a sharp pain shoots through your head as you slam down against the first landing. You fight to keep your eyes open, a haze overtaking you, but the infected screeches and runs down the stairs. It’s on top of you in an instance and you just manage to get your arms up, avoiding its snapping mouth as black dots dance around your vision. As you slip under you hear Frankie roar your name.

Frankie hears you scream, the desperation in your voice cuts through his heart like ice and he almost falls off the ladder as he slides down, dropping everything to get to you. He hears the infected shriek and he roars your name, taking the stairs three steps at a time. He sees the runner shove the door open as he reaches the first floor and hears your scream as you tumble backwards and the loud crack as you hit something on your way down.

He slams through the door and almost falls down the stairs as he tackles the infected, “Get off her,” he roars, wrenching it to the side and shoving his gun point blank to its head, pulling the trigger. The ragged body drops immediately but Frankie doesn’t even register, he’s turned to you, hands roaming over your still body, searching every inch of skin he can reach.

“Did she get bit?” he hears Pat pant from behind but he can’t respond, he’s pulling off your shirt, trying to lift you up without jostling your limp body.

“C’mon cariño, please, please, don’t do this to me, not like this, not like this,” his voice breaks and he grabs your cheek in his hand, the other around your back, carefully sitting you up, cradling you in his arms.

“Put that away, she’s not fucking bit!” he snaps at Pat as he sees the man come around the side, aiming his gun at you. Pat lowers it, your eyes are still closed.

“Please, hermosa, mi vida, I’m here, please don’t leave me,” he caresses your cheek, lightly tapping it to make you wake up, “Don’t go, I can’t…” he whispers, “I can’t lose you,” he bites back the panic that threatens to rise up. “Please, you know I need you more than you need me, that’s how it’s always been. I’m a fucking mess without you, I can’t keep my shit together without you, I need you with me, always, cariño. Fuck, please, just wake up!” He’s rambling as fear fills his chest, making breathing hard. In desperation he gives your shoulder a little shake and suddenly your eyes blink open, with a groan you squeeze them shut again against the bright light of Eugene’s flashlight.

“Frankie…” you mumble and he shushes you.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, don’t worry, I’ve got you hermosa, I’ve got you, just don’t scare me like that again.

One of his hands is still feeling as much of your body as he can, lifting your arms and hands, inspecting them while Pat waits, his eyes searching your skin too.

“Cariño, I need to open your shirt,” Frankie says, leaning closer to your ear, “I’m sorry, I have to make sure you…” he trails off, his jaw tightening as he exhales through his nose, “I have to check you for bites,” he grits out, looking into your eyes as you carefully open them again.

“Ok,” you breath out, your voice small and scared and Frankie cups your cheek.

“It’s ok cariño, I won’t let you be alone if that happens, I won't leave you.” Gently he unbuttons your flannel shirt, pushing it off you while trying to not hurt your head, a large bump is already forming at the back. His hands roam across your bare skin, breathing a deep sigh of relief as he finds nothing. Cupping both cheeks with his hands he presses his lips hard against yours, kissing you deeply before pulling back again.

“You’re fine, nothing on you,” he says, releasing your cheek to push a strand of hair behind your ear, “let me check that bump on your head though.”

“The dog will have to check her when we get back, Frankie, you know that,” Pat says, putting his gun back in his holster and Frankie nods while gently probing your head.

“I know, but she’s fine, you can see for yourself.”

Pat takes Eugene upstairs to the radio and Frankie carefully makes you stand up on unsteady legs. You pull your shirt back on and button it as you tell him what happens, Frankie curses Eugene for leaving his post under his breath.

“What the fuck was he gonna do in the basement anyway?” he growls, putting his arm around your waist and leading you back upstairs. On the way past the front door, he stops and closes it, dragging a heavy desk in front of it, “Should’ve just fucking done that from the beginning,” he grumbles.

When you get back upstairs, Frankie insists on you sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall, while he helps Eugene with the radio. It doesn’t take the old man long to figure out what’s wrong, quickly replacing some sort of mechanism in the back and tweaking it. When Frankie flicks the switch, statics fills the room.

“Let me hail Sean back in Boston,” you say, pushing yourself up from the floor, making Frankie rush over to hook his arm around your waist. You want to tell him to not fuss, but you’re still woozy and your head hurts so you gratefully accept his support.

After a bit of experimentation you find Sean’s frequency, praying he’s still working the radio, that FEDRA hasn’t shut it down, and hail him. After you say ‘Over’ the airwaves go silent and you wait, everyone in the room holding their breath.

“Boston QZ here,” Sean’s distinct voice comes through tinny and shrill but it’s definitely him and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Sean!” you cry out, “It’s so good to hear your voice!”

“What…is…is that really you?” Sean sounds amazed and relieved on the other end. “I thought you were dead, and your Frankie too, you just disappeared, dropped off the face of the earth! Where are you?”

“It’s a long story Sean, and I can’t tell you where we are, in case you know who is listening. But we’re safe, we’re fine, both of us.”

“Well, that’s good to hear, and how’s Frankie, is he doing well?”

“I’m here Sean,” Frankie leans forward and grins into the microphone, “I’m doing good, really great.”

“Oh, I’m so happy to hear that, my dear boy! The last time I saw you, I’m sorry, but you didn’t look well,” You can hear Sean’s smile through the speakers and you give Frankie’s hand a little squeeze.

“I know, Sean, but it’s all good now. And we’ve met some good people here too, so we’re doing good.”

“Listen, Sean,” you say, before Sean can say something else about Frankie’s health, “Can you pass a message to Will and Benny? Let them know we’re alive and well and that we want to schedule a time to talk to them on the radio?”

“Absolutely, of course! I’ll leave the radio station early and go past their place before the curfew tonight.” Sean replies and you hear him scrabble around for something in the background before he comes back on, “I’ll have to leave straight away, it’s almost five thirty here, and the curfew is still at six pm.”

“Thank you, Sean, you’re the best,” you say, “Be careful, and give them hugs from us!”

“I won’t even reach up to give them hugs,” Sean chuckles, “but I’ll try. I’ll radio at two pm tomorrow, does that work for you?”

“We’ll be here, Sean,” Frankie says, “talk soon, over and out.”

“Over and out.”

…

You feel giddy on the way back to Jackson, despite the dull throb in your head. The feeling lasts right until Pat stops you just outside the Jackson gates.

“Sorry, I need to get Maria and the dog, you know the rules,” he says and you just nod to him and he disappears inside the gate. Frankie helps you out of the saddle, gently setting you down on your feet.

“It’ll be fine, cariño, he just has to be cautious,” he says, running his hand over your cheek before he wraps it around your shoulders, holding you close.

It doesn’t take long for Pat to return with Maria, she’s got a worried look on her face but stops a few feet from you.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “I really hope you’re not infected but you know the drill,” she kneels to release the dog and looks up at Frankie. “I’m sorry, Frankie, but I need you to step away from here, and I’ll let the dog sniff you too, just to be safe.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, letting his hand fall from your shoulder as he steps back.

You hold your breath as the German Shepherd approaches, you blacked out, you don’t know you didn’t get bit but Frankie insists you’re fine, but what if he missed something? The dog sniffs your legs and jumps up, bumping its snout into your belly with a happy wag of its tail and you exhale deeply. Maria whistles and directs the dog towards Frankie and he trots over, Frankie reaches down and holds out his hand, the dog takes one sniff and then lifts his head and licks Frankie’s face, its long tongue lapping across his nose.

“Jeez, Scout,” Frankie chuckles, holding the dog off with his hands, “you’re not meant to eat me if I’m not infected, you know.”

“Thank god you’re both fine, I nearly had a heart attack when Pat told me what happened, I’m going to have to have a talk with Eugene about abandoning his post,” Maria shakes her head and clips the leash back on Scout’s collar. “But I heard the radio works and you got in touch with someone in Boston?”

“Yeah, Sean, who I used to work with on the radio there,” you reply as the four of you start walking back through the gates, Winston trailing behind Frankie who’s got his arm back around your waist, making sure you’re still steady on your feet. “And actually, we wanted to talk to you and Pat about that, about Boston, but in private first I think.”

“Ok,” Maria looks curious but nods, “I’ll put Scout back in his kennel and you can meet me at my house when you’ve stabled Winston.”

“Cariño, I need to check your head too,” Frankie says, lightly running his hand over your hair, “we’ll meet you there Maria, as soon as I’m sure she didn’t get a concussion.”

Maria nods again and Frankie leads you over to the stable along with Winston. You feel ok though, a bit battered and you know you’ll have bruises all over your back soon, but you let Frankie check you after he hands Winston over to Ned.

“Just follow my finger with your eyes, cariño,” he instructs and you do as he says. He lets his finger trail back and forth in front of your eyes until you sigh and wave it away.

“Frankie, I’m fine but if you keep waving that finger I really will get nauseous.”

“I’m just making sure,” he says, “you scared the shit out of me, I hear the crack when you hit the floor you know.”

“I feel fine, and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left my gun behind, that was a rookie mistake,” you say as Frankie gently cups your cheeks with his hands.

“You should’ve had it on you, but Eugene really shouldn’t have left the front door unguarded, we were lucky it was just one runner.” he tilts his head forward so that he can rest his forehead against yours. “Fuck…I hate when things like that happen to you, it’s like I a get a glimpse of what like would be without you and I don’t think I could fucking cope.”

“Did you mean it?” you ask in a small voice, “That you wouldn’t leave me if it did happen?”

“If you’d been infected?” he asks, “I wouldn’t leave you, I could never leave you, especially like that,” his thumbs stroke across your cheeks, he’s trying to keep his voice and eyes calm but you see the anguish in his face as he touches upon that thought. It fills you to, the very idea of Frankie being infected, of seeing the mycelium under his skin, losing him to that, it makes you shiver and he tightens his hold on you.

“Would you kill me? If I asked you to?” you whisper and you see his jaw tighten.

“If you wanted me too,” he says after a long pause, “I would, but I think…I might…” he shakes his head, he doesn’t want to say it, not even think it, but he knows he’d be hard pressed to not turn the gun on himself afterwards if it came to that.

“You can’t, Frankie,” you say, reaching up and tangling your fingers in the curls around his neck, “we can’t. Not while Jack needs us.” You pull back a little and look at him, his hands still around your face. “You have to promise me, that if the worst happens, you stay, for him. Don’t leave him.”

Frankie’s face flashes with pain and you feel it too, the idea of trying to go on without him, in this world, is just so very hard, but for the first time you feel responsible for someone else apart from Frankie and yourself.

“I don’t want to live without you, Frankie, not ever. But if I have to, for Jack, I’ll have figure out how to. And you need to do the same.”

He nods, it’s the smallest of gestures, but he’s looking at you and you see the intention in his eyes and you bring him close again, forehead to forehead.

“I promise, cariño,” he whispers, “I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it out too. But I’m not letting that happen, I’m keeping you and Jack safe.”

“You can’t promise that, Frankie,” you whisper back, coming back to the same objection as always.

“Just fucking watch me,” he growls, but he’s smiling, challenging you to contradict him in his conviction.

It’s only a little bit later that you make your way over to Maria’s house, the plan for what you’re going to ask her ready. She calls for you to come on in when Frankie raps his knuckles on the front door.

Pat is already in the living room, on the couch with a cup of herbal tea in his hand, the only warm drink the community is able to produce, yet at least.

“How’s the head?” he asks as you sit down.

“Not too bad, there’s an egg sized lump on the back of my head that’s throbbing, but nurse Frankie says no concussion.

Pat chuckles as Frankie rolls his eyes at you, “Good to hear, you gave us one hell of a scare there, sorry if I was a bit rough with you afterwards.”

“There’s no need, Pat, it is what it is,” you shrug, trying to feign a casual response you don’t feel.

“I made some tea for you two too, thought you might need some warming up,” Maria says as she comes into the living room, “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

Frankie accepts the tea from Maria and clears his throat, “We wanted to ask you if we can invite four friends of ours, to Jackson, if they can make it from Boston.”

Maria has raised her eyebrows in question, you know how protective she is, how protective you all are, of the community, who you let in, and how crucial it is to keep the circle of people who know about it small.

“Before the outbreak, as you know, I was in Delta Force,” Frankie says, rubbing his thumb over the tea mug, “two of my best friends from those days, Will and Benny Miller, are still in Boston with their girlfriends. Will and Benny are two of the best people I know, my brothers, and very competent soldiers. For selfish reasons we’d both like to have them here, but I also think they’d be a great asset to Jackson.”

Maria nods slowly and looks over at Pat who’s rubbing his hand over his chin, “Frankie, I’ve only known you for a few months, but I trust you with my life when we’re out on patrol, and if they’re anything like you, and you vouch for them, I’d be more than happy to welcome them here.”

Pat’s glowing review of Frankie’s character makes pride swell in your chest and you see Frankie’s ears turn pink at the praise.

“Thanks, man, I…I don’t know what to say,” Frankie stutters, failing to hide his grin, “I…We’ve just really tried to do our best for the community, and I know Will and Ben would do the same. And their girlfriends are great people too, Diana, Will’s partner, is a nurse and Eve was training under her, it’d be great to have them here too.”

“It’s a long and dangerous journey, you two know that very well,” Maria says, “but if they’re willing to risk it, and as Pat says, you vouch for them, I don’t see why not. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to have another two ex-soldiers to deter any raiders.”

“We’re hoping to talk to them tomorrow at two pm, Boston time,” you say, “Sean was going to try to set it up for us.”

“Ok, but make sure you don’t tell them exactly where Jackson is, in case FEDRA listens in. Guide them to the radio tower, we’ll do patrols there regularly,” Maria says and Frankie can’t help but chuckle.

“Trust me, if we tell them to go to the radio tower, they’ll find Jackson the same afternoon, Benny will smell the food and Will’s going to read the map and figure out exactly where we are in under a minute.”

…

Pat and Ned come up to the radio tower with you and Frankie the next day. The front door had been properly secured before you left yesterday but you still carefully clear the building before heading up to the radio.

You start it up and find the right frequency, hailing Sean as Pat’s old wind up watch hits noon. Wyoming is still two hours behind the east coast, time zones strangely still being a thing, at least over the radio.

But it’s not Sean’s voice that comes back at you over the radio.

“Fuck you both for taking off like that,” Benny roars over the air waves, filling the small room in the radio tower, making Pat raise his eye brows and look at Frankie with alarm.

“We thought you were fucking dead! And not a word, not even fucking note, first Pope and then you two just disappear, what the fuck was that about? And now you just suddenly fucking turn up out of nowhere and you’re safe and you’re somewhere out west and I don’t know fucking what? Fish! You are so dead the next time I see you!”

“Benny, shut the fuck up for a second and let them respond,” Will’s voice comes through, interrupting Benny’s angry tirade, “Ironhead, over.”

The radio goes silent as someone on the other end lets go of the broadcast switch and you press yours down to reply, not quite sure what to say after Benny’s outburst. Sure, it was probably justified, but it wasn’t exactly the way you thought your first communication with them would go. Pat is looking very surprised and a little bit hesitant next to Frankie.

Frankie leans forward over your shoulder and puts his hand over yours on the switch, “Catfish here. Good to hear your voices, and I guess we had that coming Benny. We owe you guys an explanation.”

He pauses, his hand still on the switch as he collects his thoughts, “I had to leave, you guys know why, and she made me see that it was the only way. We didn’t want to leave without saying anything but…we couldn’t let you risk everything too. I know you both would’ve come anyway, even if I told you not to, so we had to leave without saying anything. But I’m sorry, really, Benny, I’m really sorry we didn’t say anything. Over.” He takes his hand off yours and you let the switch flip back up into the receiving position.

“Are you good now, Fish? Over.” Will’s voice comes over the radio almost instantly and Frankie hits reply.

“Yeah, I’m good now, been good for a while. But I’ll tell you all about it later, because we’ve found something really good here and we want you to come out too, if you can. It’s a long journey, but it’ll be worth it. I don’t wanna say too much in case FEDRA or someone else is listening in, but remember that job we did in Iraq? And the name of that fucking C.O. that kept calling Pope and me spics? There’s a place in Wyoming that matches, that’s where we are, come find us there. Over.” Frankie lets go of the switch.

“You’re in Wyoming? How the fuck did you end up there?” Benny’s voice is incredulous and he still sounds a bit pissed off but Will interrupts him.

“So you want us to travel halfway across the country but you can’t tell us why?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I know it’s dodgy as fuck, but I know you trust me, it’s good, it’ll be worth it, we’ve got something really good going here. And you know the names right?”

“Yeah, sure, I still have a fucking five inch scar from that job and I know exactly what asshole you mean,” Will responds.

“Will,” you lean forward, “it’s a dangerous journey, we know that. But if you can get a car, you’ll find abandoned cars almost the whole way so that you can fill up on gas as you go, that’s what we did. Only thing is, the last two days, once we got to Wyoming, there were no more cars so we had to walk the rest of the way.”

“But why the fuck did you go as far as Wyoming?” Benny asks again and you can’t help but smile, you can see his face in front of you, his forehead bunched up as he tries to wrap his head around it.

“We didn’t plan it,” Frankie says, “we were just trying to get away from populated areas as much as possible. And then…something happened in Nebraska, and we had to head further west.”

“Yeah, be careful of people, we ran into some really nasty types in Nebraska, just about got away,” you fill in.

“But you’re saying it’ll be worth the journey, if we make it out to you guys?” Will asks and Frankie nods as he flicks the switch.

“Yeah, absolutely, I’m sorry I can’t say more over the radio, but yeah, one hundred percent worth it.”

“Well, anything is better than fucking Boston QZ at the moment,” Benny grumbles as Will flicks the switch again. “FEDRA has turned it into a fascist state, it’s even worse than when you left.”

“Fish, we’ll talk to Diana and Eve and let you know, but…I mean, I trust you with my life, you’re my brother,” Will says, “If you say it’s worth risking our lives for, then I believe you.”

“Ok, can you be back on the air at the same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Will says, “We’ll talk to you tomorrow. Over and out.”

The radio goes silent and you sit back, you can hardly believe you just talked to Will and Benny again. You just hope they want to come, and that they make it. Frankie wraps his arms around you from behind and gives you a big hug, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“So fucking great to talk to them again,” he grins, “I hope they want to come but I hope we did the right thing to ask them, it’s a long journey.”

You nod as you go through the motions of switching off the radio, you hope so too and a little ball of anxiety is settling in your stomach.

…

That ball grows as you don’t hear from them the next day. Not even Sean is on the radio and you can’t get in touch with Boston at all. You fiddle with the dials, trying everything Sean’s taught you, but there’s nothing, just statics. Frankie stands behind your shoulder, looking anxious. It was always a risk, contacting them inside the QZ, if FEDRA listened in they might’ve tried getting to Will and Benny straight away.

“Fuck, I really hope we didn’t put them in danger just by contacting them,” you say with a sigh, looking up at Frankie, he’s rubbing his hand over his jaw, deep in thought.

“I don’t know, cariño, I really hope not. I guess all we can do is come by here every day at noon and see if we get a response.”

You and Frankie take the patrol route that goes past the radio tower every day and make sure to be there at noon. The first couple of weeks you remain hopeful, maybe something broke, maybe there’s a curfew preventing anyone from getting to the radio, life is so unpredictable now, you know this. But as the weeks turn into a month, and then two, and the radio remains silent, both you and Frankie start losing hope. It’s like the Boston radio station has ceased to exist and all you can do is wait. And hope.

It’s not until you’re deep into winter that you come back to the radio station on one of your patrol routes, Frankie and you don’t even go on that patrol regularly anymore, and you find a message from one of the other Jackson residents.

Message from Sean in Boston: FEDRA shut down radio. W & B left approx. three months ago. Hope they have arrived. Will send new messages when possible.

“Three months ago?” you say, looking at Frankie, “they should be here by now if they managed to drive.”

“They should be here even if they walked the whole way,” Frankie says, his eyebrows knitted together in a worried frown, “something must’ve happened.”

You feel the lump in your stomach, anxious nerves twisting your insides, and Frankie sees the look in your eyes and pulls you into his arms.

“Don’t give up hope yet, cariño,” he mumbles into your hair, “you know that if there’s anyone that can do that journey, it’s Will and Benny.”

“I almost wish we hadn’t told them,” you say into his chest, “I’m scared we’ll never hear from them again and never know what happened.”

He caresses your hair, trailing his fingers along the back of your neck, “You know, Benny will say it’s payback for what we did when we left without saying anything, I can just see his smirk as he says it, ‘Fuckin’ payback Fish!’ “

You smile through your tears, looking up at Frankie who’s doing his best to imitate Ben’s smug grin.

“There you go,” he smiles back at you, wiping your cheek clean, “don’t grieve for them yet, there’s still plenty of hope.”

…

Winter in Boston is a piece of cake compared to winter in Wyoming, as you find out, especially this close to the Rockies. The snow covers everything both inside and outside of Jackson in a thick layer. Almost every morning Frankie shovels the snow off your front porch and clears the path to the street. Then he shovels the section of the street the two of you are assigned to, everyone helping out to keep Jackson passable as the winter continues. Patrols become increasingly difficult, the snow becomes too deep even for the horses to pass through and the only upside is that if the Jackson guards can’t patrol, then no one else can either, all of Wyoming is snowed in.

But there’s plenty to do in the town and you go back to working in the kitchen, bringing Jack with you most days. He’s the only baby in the community and to say he’s spoiled rotten would be an understatement. He’s walking now, waddling around as fast as his chubby legs will carry him, but when he’s in the kitchen he spends most of his time on the hip of one of the residents who work there with you, happily watching everything that goes on around him.

Frankie takes Jack some days but he’s often outside, helping to build or fix things, slowly putting Jackson together into a working town. The stable has been joined by two chicken coops, the old medical clinic has been cleaned out and repaired as much as possible, there’s even a communal ‘shop’ of sorts where any useful clothes and shoes are stored and organized. An election has been held and Maria is now head of the community board, Jackson is slowly turning into a proper town.

As the weeks pass, the winter deepens and Maria and the board decide that it’s time for the town to have its very first holiday celebration. To be honest, no one is completely sure what day it is anymore. You lost track back in Denny’s cabin when you were trying to keep Frankie alive. In the QZ some people had made calendars to track the days but more often than not they disagreed on exactly what day it was. FEDRA in Boston claimed they had an exact calendar, but Will, who’d spent most of his life tracking everything, said it was incorrect by twenty six days, almost a month off, and you trusted Will. But in Boston, even to Will, it didn’t really matter what date it was, you were too busy just surviving.

So as the days are still growing shorter, a day is picked, a Saturday in two weeks, for the first Jackson Holiday Season celebration. The community hall is decorated with evergreens and the big room smells of juniper and pine every time you come inside. A thread bare red blanket has been cut into strips and turned into bows that are now nestled in the evergreen branches. And it seems every red item that can be found in Jackson has been brought to the hall to decorate tables, windows and every available surface.

As the day draws nearer Frankie becomes more and more secretive about what he’s up to, giving you sly grins whenever you ask where he’s off to as he tries to sneak out the door. You know he’s planning something, but you can’t figure out what. But his absence from the house gives you time to work on your own gifts for him.

There’s not much in the way of available holiday gifts though. Although Jack’s turns out to be pretty easy, the toy shop in the non-enclosed part of Jackson has an array of toys left on its shelves, not much use to anyone in the apocalypse. Frankie and you go over there one afternoon on a patrol route and pick out a colorful set of wood blocks and, of course, a toy helicopter, still in its box.

“You’ll have to explain what a helicopter is,” you say to Frankie as you watch him carefully scan the shelves to find the biggest and, in Frankie’s professional opinion, best helicopter model.

“Yeah, kinda weird knowing he’s gonna grow up never seeing a helicopter or airplane actually fly,” he replies, discarding yet another helicopter, “This model is alright, but the Viper really is better, even if most people thought the Apache Guardian was the best one. I always preferred the Viper, better maneuverability at low altitudes.”

“I think he’ll like this one,” you say, pointing to a bright red and yellow helicopter, clearly from a children's tv-show. Frankie glances at it and shakes his head immediately.

“No, I’m not giving our son a fake helicopter, he’s getting a real one.” He goes back to scanning the shelves, crouching down and moving the boxes aside. “Maybe they have some more out back,” he mutters, discarding yet another perfectly fine looking military helicopter.

“Well, when you find a ‘real’ helicopter in here, let me know. I’m going to see if I can find some crayons and drawing books for him,” you can’t help teasing him as you turn away and head towards the craft section.

You have to stop yourself from filling your bag to the brim with crayons, drawing books, beads, paint, brushes and other crafting materials, but you still stuff it pretty full. Just as you close it Frankie finally comes over, two boxes in his hands.

“I found a Viper out back, last one they had,” he says with a grin, showing you a military helicopter that, to you, looks identical to the one he discarded, “but I also got him this really cool rescue services helicopter, they use it for water bombing, it’s a S-64 Skycrane, it can hold up to three thousand gallons of water! In the army we call it the CH-54 Tarhe, but the Skycrane is the civilian name. It’s a twin engine, heavy lifting helicopter, one of the best in the world. You really need a pilot and a co-pilot to fly it but I had special training and could fly it solo in an emergency. But the really cool thing is that it could lift up to forty two thousand pounds and still do a hundred and nine knots! Isn’t that awesome, cariño?”

You’ve walked out of the shop and turned back down towards the Jackson gate while Frankie enthusiastically gushes about the toy helicopters still in his hands and when he pauses for your opinion, you just nod and smile at him. Most of what he said has just floated through your head, but Frankie tirade of facts reminds you of the first time he took you up flying, how he’d rattled off technical facts about the helicopter you were about to fly in and then apologized for boring you with all the details. As you wave to the guards and the gate slides open to let you in, you bump his shoulder with yours.

“That’s pretty cool, Frankie. Jack’s going to be very impressed too.”

“I can’t wait to show him on Christmas morning,” Frankie grins, smiling lovingly down at the two helicopters in his hands.

…

The night before what Jackson has communally decided is Christmas, or whatever holiday you want to celebrate, Frankie turns up at the door with a Christmas tree and you can’t believe your eyes. It’s not huge, a modest one, but he’s somehow found a foot for it, and now it’s standing in the living room and Jack’s eyes have never been bigger as he gazes at it. He’s almost one and you’re set on making his first Christmas as magical as possible.

“Pat, Ned and I found loads of decorations at HomeDepot, even the lights work,” Frankie says, showing you the box. “We’ve got enough decorations there to fill all of Jackson I think, I even got candy canes!”.

“You’ve got everything here,” you can’t help but giggle as you look into the box of decorations he’s dragged in after the tree, “baubles, tinsel, streamers, this is going to look amazing.” You haven’t wanted to celebrate anything for years, but now you’re filled with an urge to make the tree, and the house, look perfect for your first family Christmas. You’ve already made a wreath for the front door out of evergreen and colorful scraps of fabric but now you can add more decorations to the house. As Frankie organizes the tree decorations, you go through the house, placing tinsel and baubles wherever you can find a suitable spot.

“Should we decorate the tree now or wait until Jack’s asleep?” Frankie asks you as you come back into the living room, “My mom would always do it while we slept and then it’d be all perfect and ready on Christmas morning.”

“He’s too small for that, and I wanna sit in front of the fire with you tonight and look at our tree,” you reply, sliding your arm around his waist and giving him a squeeze.

“Anything for you, cariño,” Frankie says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

…

Christmas Day morning you wake up as Frankie slips from the bed and you mumble after him. He comes back and tucks you back in, placing a feather soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Go back to sleep, cariño, I won’t be long.”

You doze off, the light in the room still dim and there’s no noise from Jack’s room, it must be early.

Frankie gently places a tray on the bedside table a little bit later and runs his hand over your shoulder, making you blink awake.

“Merry Christmas, hermosa,” he whispers, before he disappears again and you slowly open your eyes, confused. But then you hear Jack’s gurgling as Frankie comes back in with the baby in his arms and you wake up properly.

“First family Christmas for baby Jack,” Frankie smiles and gives you the little boy after you’ve scooted yourself up to lean against the headboard.

“First family Christmas,” you smile back, snuggling a still sleepy Jack close while Frankie picks up the tray and sets it down on the bed before crawling back in next to you. On it are two steaming mugs and you can’t believe your nose.

“Is that hot chocolate, Frankie?!” you ask, eyes wide and he nods, giving you a big grin.

“Pat and I found a big bag of cocoa powder a while back, we’ve been keeping it a secret for Christmas, he’s making brownies for everyone tonight.”

“Oh my god, I can’t wait…” you sigh, accepting the mug as Frankie passes it to you, keeping it out of reach from Jack’s grabby hands.

“Don’t worry, gordito, I’ve made you some too,” Frankie chuckles, giving Jack a sippy cup. The baby’s face transforms as he tastes the sweet drink, tilting the cup back so fast you have to grab it to stop him from drowning himself in the drink.

“I hope there’s plenty of cocoa powder because we may have found Jack’s new favorite thing,” you laugh. Frankie scoots closer and puts his arm behind your back, pulling you into his side and you lean your head on his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, Frankie, your present is under the tree,” you say and you can feel him chuckle under you.

“So that’s what you did when you snuck downstairs in the middle of the night,” he laughs, “I was wondering what you were up to.”

“No, that was Santa Claus,” you say with a serious face, “you must’ve heard of him coming down the chimney.”

“Oh yes, of course,” Frankie chuckles again, “Santa Claus.” He puts his mug down and tilts your head up towards him, brushing his nose against your cheek, running it along the bridge of your nose until his lips find yours and he nudges them apart with his tongue. He tastes of chocolate and honey and himself as he deepens the kiss. Jack coos happily on your lap, you can feel him tugging at the t-shirt you’ve slept in while Frankie’s warm body wraps around you and Jack. He pulls back a little, leaving your lips, and smiles down at you, and then Jack, his eyes warm and soft, crinkling at the corners.

“Merry Christmas,” he says in a low voice, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the peace of the moment and you reach up and cup his cheek, running your thumb over his scruffy beard, stroking the small patch that never fills in and you kiss him again.

The rest of the morning, after breakfast has been cleared away, is spent in the living room. The fire is going, warming the house and keeping the blistering cold Wyoming winter at bay, and the Jackson board has given everyone leave to light the Christmas lights as the dam is running like clockwork, producing much more electricity than the small community needs.

Jack happily tears into the bright paper around his presents, banging the wooden blocks against each other with glee as Frankie shows him how the helicopter flies. Frankie’s wearing your presents to him, your very first knitting projects, a woolly hat that turned out much better than you anticipated, and a pair of pretty knobbly socks that Frankie swears are the comfiest socks ever, but you’re pretty sure he only says that to make you happy.

Your own present from Frankie is already neatly placed in the book shelf next to the window, a wide selection of best selling books from the Jackson Bookshop. You hadn’t even known there was a bookshop but Frankie had lugged back over twenty heavy books, and promised to take you there to get more books when you wanted.

“I also have another present, but you’ll get that one tonight,” he smiles, giving you a mischievous wink that doesn’t fail to get you a little bit turned on. You’ve almost lost count of the years you’ve been with him now, but he still knows exactly what look to give you to make heat shoot through your body, making your thighs clench together.

As darkness falls over Jackson, almost everyone heads for the community hall. There’d been a draw and a few unlucky people were on guard duty, but they’ve been giving generous hampers of the best food and extra days off from guard duty as compensation. But you’re still very happy that neither your or Frankie’s names got pulled for duty tonight. Instead you’d wrapped Jack in warm clothes and walked down to the community hall that’s blazing with light and warmth. Now you’re leaning back in your chair, Jack on Frankie’s lap, full of food you didn’t think you’d ever eat again. Turkey and cranberries, roast potatoes, even Pat’s brownies, it had all been delicious and you think it may have been the best Christmas dinner you’ve ever had. Jack had happily tried everything that had been placed in front of him, except the brussel sprouts, but you couldn’t blame him for that. The brownie had been his favorite, smeared across most of his face to the delight of the whole Jackson community. It was as if Jack’s presence, still the only child in town, gave even more of a holiday feel to the celebration and he’d been passed around almost every lap during the evening before slumping in Frankie’s now, almost asleep.

“Do you want me to take him now, Frankie?” Maria asks as she comes over and you look up surprised but Frankie just smiles.

“That’d be great, I think it should be ready now,” he gives Jack a peck on the top of his fuzzy head and carefully hands him over to Maria, “We’ll come pick him up tomorrow morning, but not too early.”

“Don’t worry about it, take all the time you want,” Maria says and winks as Frankie stands, holding out his hand to you.

“Mi amor, time for your Christmas present,” he smiles and you take his hand.

“I want to ask where we’re going but I’m guessing you won’t tell me?” you ask and Frankie chuckles, waving goodbye to Maria and leading you out of the community center.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist.

You walk through the quiet town, in the opposite direction from your own house and you’re thoroughly confused when Frankie leads you down a street no one lives on yet and to a house right at the end of the cul-de-sac. He pushes the gate open but instead of going up onto the porch, he leads you round the back, pushing open another gate in a tall fence, and stepping into the backyard.

You see it immediately, a large wooden hot tub, filled to the brim with steaming water, heated by a wood fired heater next to it. A big pile of firewood is next to it and by the way the snow is flattened you guess Frankie’s been here during the evening to feed the fire and heat up the water.

“Seriously?” you smile, turning to look at Frankie who’s grinning next to you, “A hot tub?”

“Yep, we knew it was here but with fire wood needed to heat the houses it was never put to use. Now that the dam is running so well, we can afford to waste a bit of wood on heating it. So, Merry Christmas, cariño.”

He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans his head on your shoulder, the cold tip of his nose finding the warm skin of your neck and you reach up, cupping the back of his head.

“Merry Christmas, Frankie, this is amazing…” you sigh, “And I guess Maria is in on this too, that’s why she took Jack?”

“She’s babysitting him tonight for us, so we have all the time that we want,” Frankie mumbles, his lips already wandering across your neck, pushing hair out of the way and reaching that spot just under your ear that he loves to nuzzle into, to nip at just a little, because he knows how you react when he does.

“C’mon, we’re skinny dipping,” he smiles into your neck, reaching for the zipper on your winter coat and sliding it down, “strip fast and get in, I’ll be right there.”

He gives your neck a final little nip, making you hum quietly under your breath, before he steps away and goes to retrieve something up on the back porch. There’s a bench next to the hot tub and you quickly take off your jacket and peel off the rest of your clothes. As you get to your bra and panties you quickly glance around and realize that the backyard has total privacy, even from the neighboring houses, so you strip down and climb into the tub. Frankie comes back just as you step into the water, the short stay in the frigid air has made you shiver and you moan as you slip into the hot water.

“Frankie, this feels amazing,” you sigh as Frankie places a couple of towels on the heater to keep them warm, and places two glasses and a bottle on the edge of the hot tub.

“You look very cozy there, cariño,” he smiles as he starts stripping down too. You can’t help but lean on the edge of the hot tub and watch him as he pulls his shirt off, followed by his pants. He’s well into his forties now but he’s still maintained his wide, muscular shoulders and broad chest that tapers down into a narrow waist and hips over strong thighs. The only thing betraying his age and the slightly softer lifestyle of Jackson is his soft little belly and more gray hairs in his patchy beard.

“Enjoying the view?” he chuckles as he spots you shamelessly scanning his body.

“Always, ever since our first date,” you smile, scooting to the side as he steps in. Your mouth waters as you take in his half hard cock hanging stiff between his legs, despite the cold air.

Frankie sinks down into the water with a groan, the warmth seeping into his muscles and bones and with a thump he drops his head back against the edge of the hot tub and closes his eyes, letting a long breath escape him. You move closer to him again, pulling his arm around your shoulders as you sink into his side.

“Hmm…” he tilts his head towards yours, his hand coming up to hold your chin, moving it so that he can reach your lips, “you taste like Christmas, cariño.”

It makes you smile into his mouth, letting your tongue slip into his, tasting him, the burn of the whiskey he had before you left.

“What’s in the bottle, Frankie?” you ask, mumbling against him and now it’s his turn to smile.

“Something to make you lose your inhibitions and have sex in a hot tub in the middle of a Wyoming winter,” he chuckles.

“Sounds exactly like what we need,” you smile back at him and he pulls away far enough to grab the glasses and the bottle. The bottle is barely half full but it’s more than enough for a finger in each glass and when Frankie hands one to you, you smell the rich bourbon.

“This is the real stuff? Not Eugene’s moonshine?” you ask, your eyebrows raised but Frankie just grins and clinks his glass against yours.

“Merry Christmas, hermosa,” he takes a sip, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief over the brim.

“Francisco Morales,” you say, trying to sound stern, and failing, “where did you get this?” You take a sip and groan. You were never a big whiskey drinker before the outbreak, and not even during the first few years of it. But while in Boston, when creature comforts became fewer and further between, real whiskey was one of the few things that could sometimes be traded for, the one indulgence that could make you all relax enough to forget the real world for a while. As the years passed it became harder to find the good stuff, mostly it was moonshine disguised as whiskey. But this was real bourbon, Jack Daniels, and not the cheap stuff.

Frankie takes another sip and leans forward, “I pulled a few strings, I am the hero of Jackson Dam after all,” he chuckles before he makes you open your mouth to his tongue again. The whiskey flavor is mellow this time, mingling with his own taste and you forget your question, moaning as he licks into your mouth. He takes the glass from you, placing it on the edge without letting his mouth leave yours and then his hands grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. The cold air hits your shoulders but Frankie sinks down further, water sloshing around you, and as he moves his lips from your mouth, trailing down your neck, you forget about the frigid temperature. His hands are pulling you down against his hard length as he sucks a mark into your smooth skin, making you whimper under him.

“I wanna make you feel so good,” he mumbles, his lips brushing down over your chest as he lifts you out of the water, watching the cold air make your nipples tighten before he wraps a hand around your breast, the warmth from his palm making you shudder, “Gonna make you come on my fingers right here, fuck you on my lap, then I’ll take you home, get you warmed up in front of the fire before I take care of you for the rest of the night, anything you want, hermosa, I’ll do to you.”

His words make you shiver more than the air, sending spasms down your spine, and Frankie moves you off his lap, setting you down next to him, the warm water coming up to your neck again.

“You can come inside me tonight, Frankie,” you say as his strong hands grip your legs, and you feel his response, his fingers digging into your soft flesh and he presses his mouth to yours, taking a long kiss, tongues slipping over each other, before he pulls back a little.

“Open your legs for me,” he whispers, his mouth close to your ear now, as he pulls you into his side, his hand slipping up the inside of your thigh. You don’t need his words to spread open for him, but he knows you like to hear him ask for it, so he lets his breath skate across the damp skin while he tells you what to do. Hooking his leg over yours, he squeezes the soft flesh of your leg as he props you open for his hand to slip further up. You’re protesting at his slow pace, he’s just teasing you as he strokes the butter soft skin right at the top of your thigh, grazing against your core as he moves his hand to the other side. He chuckles into your ear as your hips buck, chasing his hand and he lets his other arm slip down to your hip, grabbing it tight and holding you still as he moves his hand up again.

“So impatient tonight, cariño,” he smiles before his teeth nip at your neck, his scruff tickling your skin as he moves further down. His hand is still kneading the plush flesh, pushing you open more as he slides his hand back up. When his fingertips catch at your entrance and drags upwards, you whimper, turning your head and chasing his lips with your mouth. He lets you kiss him, opening his mouth to your tongue as his fingers slide through your folds.

The slow drag makes you want to clench your thighs together but his leg is keeping them in place, keeping you open for his drawn out exploration.

“Frankie…” you moan against his lips, breathing heavily against him as he brushes around your clit yet again, “please…more…”

You can feel him smile against you as your pleading voice turns into a whine when he slowly pushes the tip of his finger inside you, only the one, much too little for what you need, and you keen in protest, grabbing his shoulder and trying to push your hips towards him.

“Sshh…hermosa, just stay still, I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispers, his voice low and promising, “gonna let you feel my fingers so deep inside this wet little pussy, just be patient…” the last words he mumbles into your ear as he leaves your lips, his hot breath making you shiver. His finger slips out and slips back in, pumping slowly as he lets his thumb touch your clit feather light, but even under those small touches, your breath catches, head thrown back against the edge of the hot tub.

Frankie’s teeth grazes your throat, just under your ear, not hard enough to leave a mark, just enough to make you shiver again and he slides his finger out, even the hot water feels cool against his skin after the heat of your pussy. When he adds a second finger and slides in, he’s rewarded by a loud moan as you turn your heads towards him again, desperately seeking him. He swallows down your noises, drowning in your pants as he starts curling his fingers back, dragging across a spot he knows makes you squeeze your eyes shut as you gasp. His thumb finds your clit again and now he lets his rough pad, made soft and wrinkled by the warm water, rub across the swollen pearl, circling, flicking, teasing until your gasps are replaced by panted whimpers into his mouth.

“Frankie…” you moan, “Frankiefrankiefrankie…”

Your cries send shock waves into his hard cock, resting heavily in the water between his spread thighs, one of his legs still hooked over yours. He feels your hand slide down over his front, wrapping around the solid length, and it’s his turn to gasp, your thumb finding the slit and caressing over it.

“Make me come, Frankie, I-I want you to fuck me h-here,” you pant, shaking under the way his fingers plunge in and out of your tight heat, “I want your cock inside me now, I don’t want to w-wait…oh fuck…”

He’s slipped out and added a third finger, pressing them deep inside you, moving his body to push you against the wall of the hot tub, your hand still gripping his hard, aching cock. His tongue invades your mouth, both of you moaning under the onslaught of pleasure rippling through your nerves. You’re further along, Frankie’s thumb teasing your clit in ever tightening circles while his fingers curl back. But it’s Frankie who breaks first, as his cock easily slips through your tight grip under the water, he curses in Spanish, pulling away from you.

“C’mere,” he growls and you gasp as his fingers slip out of you. He grabs your arms, turning you around easily and placing you on his lap, pushing your legs wide, hooking them over his knees, as you lean back against his chest. You feel the tip of his rigid cock at your entrance as he pulls you down, the slick heat of your core and the water making him slide in deep in one firm thrust. The impact, the way he hits a spot deep inside, makes you throw your head back, against his shoulder, and cry out his name. Frankie sees your hot breath steam into the cold air, mixing with the steam from the hot tub as you moan again. One hand on your hip to pull you down, he lets the other find your aching clit, teasing it with his fingers as he thrusts up into you. His cock his aching, every movement from you transplanting into every nerve ending along it, shooting up through his spine, his balls, his fucking finger tips, he swears he can feel you clenching tight around him even in his ear lobes.

His mouth is right next to your ear and he’s mumbling, slamming his hips up as much as the position lets him, “Such a tight fucking pussy, couldn’t wait another second, bebita, your hand…” he groans as another spams ripples through your body, he can feel how close you are, grinding your hips down against him with every thrust up, “fuck…you feel so fucking good,” he moans, “let me feel you come around my cock, just let me feel it, I’m so fu-fucking c-c-lose…”

You can feel his fingers dig into your hip, his mouth against your ear, his rough fingers caressing rough circles around your clit, building pressure.

“Frankie…” you whimper, your voice tight and strained, “I’m…”

Your orgasm hits you without warning, snapping every muscle in your body, Frankie feels you go rigid under his grip as you cry out his name again, it catches in your throat as he continues to grind up in to you, his fingers rubbing fast circles, pushing you forward, prolonging every waves that washes through you until you go limp. With a sob you slump back against him and he grabs your hips, pushing himself deep, once, twice, with a cry he thrusts in a third time and feels himself explode, pumping deep inside as your slowing spasms milk him dry.

You feel yourself relax in his arms, his grip tight, heart thrumming under your back as he pushes his face against the crook of your neck. You look up towards the night sky, trying to focus your eyes again, as every muscle in your body tingles with pleasure, coming down. Tendrils of steam are rising from the tub, your breath mingling with his, low pants and sloshing water the only sounds around you. You shiver as you realize most of your chest is out of the water, you’re still sitting on Frankie’s lap, but he notices and lifts you up, your body almost weightless in the water.

“C’mere, don’t get cold,” he mumbles, his voice soft and mellow, and he tucks you in under his arm, pulling you close into his side, kissing your cheek with his warm lips.

“Even before the outbreak, this would’ve been an absolutely perfect Christmas gift, Frankie,” you hum, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he draws another deep breath, his shoulders dropping, relaxing.

“Yeah, I would’ve gotten one of these for the house,” he says, lifting his hand and caressing the top of your head, his fingers trailing through your hair for a few minutes as you both let the warmth of the water soak through your muscles, relaxing you enough to slip even further down.

“I haven’t thought about life before the outbreak in a long time,” he mumbles after a while, a darker tone to his voice, “or where we would be if it hadn’t happened.”

“We’d still be together, Frankie, I know that. In our house, getting old, soaking in a hot tub.”

You see him give a small smile but his mind has turned to someone else.

“She’d be turning seventeen this spring…I wonder what she would look like,” Frankie’s fingers twitch in your hair as he tilts his head towards you, you feel the shift in his mood as clearly as if you were looking at his face.

“You know she’d be beautiful, Frankie, but more importantly, she’d be an incredible young woman with you as her dad,” you take his hand and stroke your thumb over the knuckles, a small soothing movement.

“It’s so unfair…I could've protected her, if only she’d been with me when the outbreak happened, I would’ve kept her safe,” he shifts so that he can turn himself more towards you, slipping down and leaning his head against your shoulder, his arm circling your waist to pull you even closer, “and none of all the shit I put you through would’ve happened, I would’ve been able to stay away from it with both of you alive.”

“You had to go through something no one should have to face, Frankie, you know I don’t blame you for any of it,” you whisper, letting your lips brush over his damp curls and you hear him let out a shaky breath.

“My first sponsor, back before Lucía was born, used to say that men like him and me need a focus in our lives, someone to protect or something to live for, to keep us straight. It might not be the best way, but it is what it is. And he told me I should let Lucía be my focus, and it worked.”

Frankie draws a deep breath and shrugs, “She was the reason, even before she was born, that I got clean. When I met you,” his hand wraps around yours under the water, “I knew that I didn’t need to put that burden on you, I could just be yours, be the man you deserve, and not let you deal with all my shit. She was going to keep my focus even if she didn’t even know it,” Frankie stops, and you hear the sob he tries to swallow back and you wrap your arms tighter around him as he digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer, pressing his face to your neck.

“When she…” he murmurs, and you can feel him shake his head, “I can’t…say it…”

“You don’t have to, Frankie, I know what you mean,” you press your lips against his head and he draws a deep breath, swallowing down another sob.

“After, at the cabin, I had to shift my focus to you…you were the only reason I didn’t walk into the lake. But I don’t want you to have to be the reason I stay clean, I should be able to do it anyway, it’s not your burden.”

“You know I’d do it all again, Frankie, I will happily help you carry your burden, as long as I get to have you alive and well with me, that’s all I ever want,” you sink down, cupping his face between your hands, finding his eyes with yours before you press your lips to his, “You’re my everything, Frankie,” you mumble, pulling back a little and looking at his tear filled eyes again, “You’re always my everything, you’re always going to be the most important person in my life, I’ll do whatever it takes, always,” you kiss him again, harder this time, pressing your love into him and you feel him wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Cariño,” he mumbles against your lips, “cariño, hermosa, eres todo para mí.” he brings his hands up to your face, his nose nudging yours as he kisses you again, “Siempre, siempre.”

He pulls you in, his mouth finding yours, soft lips pressed close, as he pulls you onto his lap again, “Always, I’m always yours.”

…

Winter seems to drag on forever, with no end in sight. You wish you had a weather channel on the useless tv that’s stored away in the garage. You’d love for a weatherman to explain to you why it’s mid-April and it’s still snowing, a thick layer on the ground.

“It’s the mountains, cariño,” Frankie explains for the fifth time as you grumble at the snow on yet another cold morning. “We’re so high up, even though we’re on the same latitude as Boston. And Boston has a coastal climate, Jackson has a continental climate, but we’re in a valley so I think, probably-”

“Frankie, I love you, but I don’t need another encyclopedic entry on why Jackson winters are so fucking long,” you sigh, shutting him up with a kiss that makes him grin at you as he tries to grab your butt.

“Fine, snow bad, sunshine good,” he chuckles, taking Jack from you. Jack’s grown a lot over the winter and totters around the house, forcing you to baby proof every low surface to prevent him from grabbing at anything within reach.

You long for warmer weather, for mild days where you can let Jack go outside without four layers of clothing, to be able to sit on the porch swing with Frankie and just rock back and forth. And, thankfully, it doesn’t take much longer for your wish to come true. It’s like someone flicked a switch. Freezing nights are replaced with mild spring showers, the snow melts, turning all the unpaved streets to mud, only to dry up as the sun returns a few days later. Suddenly the white world has turned dirty yellow and gray, and then bright green breaks through. It’s like an Arctic spring, over in a week, the mountain’s are still snow capped but the meadows are coated in fresh green grass and a riot of spring flowers.

Daffodils shoot up through the sparse grass in your backyard, the originally neat rows have multiplied over the years and taken over the lawn. You realize that whoever lived here before the outbreak must’ve planted them and now they spread their bright yellow shine all over what is now your garden. You pick bunches and decorate the house, fill every container you have with them, give more to Maria and Pat, even Ned and the horses get bunches for the stable, and still you have daffodils all over your lawn.

With spring all of Jackson is busy preparing for the new season, the first two green houses have been built over the winter, glass from dilapidated houses used to create two impressive structures. Now they’re filled with neat rows of planters and almost everyone takes turns tending them, overseen by a young man called Alwin, a self taught gardener with very green thumbs.

You still work in the kitchen though, food is always needed for the growing community and together with Alwin, you and the other kitchen manager have made plans for what plants to cultivate for maximum harvest.

You leave the community center and the kitchen behind one afternoon when spring has almost moved into early summer, Jack wobbling next to you. He loves to run but his legs aren’t really stable enough so you keep your hands ready to catch him as you follow his unsteady gait towards the stable. Frankie has been working on putting up an extension to the storage building, three foals had been born this spring and next winter more feed would be needed to keep all the horses well fed.

Frankie spots you and Jack as he jumps down from the hay loft, “Hey Jack, look at you go!” he calls to the grinning boy, and Jack speeds up, trying to run to Frankie.

“Da! Da!” he gurgles excitedly as you stop him from toppling over.

“Yeah, that’s your Da,” you laugh as Jack sets off again, tilting at a precarious angle. ‘Da’ could mean dad but also ‘horse’, ‘there’, ‘food’ or any number of things that might catch Jack’s eyes. But right now there’s no mistaking who he means as Frankie catches him and sweeps him up over his head in a big swing. Jack shrieks with laughter and Frankie spins him around an extra time before setting him on his hip, one arm securely around the boy’s back, as the other catches your waist, pulling you in so that he can kiss you as you put your hand behind his neck.

“You’re early,” he mumbles, nipping at your bottom lip and demanding another kiss, before he pulls back to look at you. His sweaty curls are unruly and flopping around his ears and forehead, his cap nowhere to be seen, and the spring sunshine has given him a tan, the tip of his nose slightly pink, and you have to give it a peck.

“We were done with planning and dinner is already sorted, so I thought we’d come surprise you,” you smile at him, “You really need a haircut, remind me tonight and I’ll give you a trim.”

“Sure, and I think Jack needs a trim too, either that or a hair tie,” Jack’s blonde curls are blowing in the wind and threatening to fall into his eyes but they are so cute that you’ve been putting off cutting them. Just like with Frankie’s curls, they were irresistible for wrapping around your fingers as you caress his soft head while he falls asleep.

“How’s the new building going?” you ask and Frankie turns to point up towards the roof.

“We just finish-”

You suddenly hear running footsteps from the main street and Josie, one of the people on guard duty today, comes rushing into the stable yard. You feel Frankie stiffen next to you, cutting himself off and instinctively reaching for his rifle that’s leaned against the stable wall.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Josie pants, taking a deep breath and wiping her forehead, “You need to come quick, there’s people at the gate!”

“Are we under attack?” Frankie lets go of you and grabs the rifle but Josie shakes her head.

“No, but people,” she says, “asking for you! Come on!” She turns and starts heading back the way she came and you glance over at Frankie, hope suddenly burning in your chest and you see that he’s had the same thought. With Jack still on his arm you both hurry after Josie.

By the time you get to the gate it’s already open and you see a patrol returning, horses, men and women, coming through.

And then you both see them at the same time, two tall blonde men on horseback, and your heart leaps. Will spots you and his face splits into a wide grin, throwing his leg over the horse and jumping down.

“Fish!!” Benny yells, startling everyone around him, but he’s ignorant of it, throwing himself off his horse, sprinting towards you both. You laugh as you see Eve throw her hands in the air at being left on the horse as Benny takes off, behind him you see Will help Diana off her horse.

Benny stops short a few feet in front of Frankie, looking from him to Jack and back again, Jack’s big blue eyes are staring at Benny.

“Fish, I swore I’d fu-..” he bites his tongue, looking at Jack, “I swore I’d smack you, when we found you, but you’re holding a baby,” Benny blinks at Jack, looks over at you, and back at Frankie, “You have a baby?!”

“Come here, dumbass,” Frankie laughs, stepping over to Benny and giving him a one armed hug, “So fucking good seeing you, we were starting to get worried.”

Will grins as he reaches you and picks you up in a bear hug that makes you giggle, wrapping your arms around his thick neck.

“Fuck, I missed you Will, missed you so much,” you smile, willing yourself to not start crying as he puts you back on your feet.

“Missed you too,” he grins and takes a step towards Frankie, smacking him on his shoulder, getting his attention away from Benny, who lets go of him. The two men hug, you see Frankie blink his eyes rapidly, clapping Will on the back, but then Benny grabs you, picking you up just as high as Will and shaking you back and forth in his iron grip.

“So fucking good to see you!” he laughs, squeezing you tight enough to make you tap his shoulder.

“Missed you too Benny, but jeez, let me breathe please,” you laugh, your feet a clear foot off the ground.

“Come one, give her a break,” Diana chuckles, and you find yourself being hugged by both women, your tears starting to drip, you don’t think you’ve felt this happy in a long time and Benny wraps his long arms around the three of you.

“Great place you’ve got her, but did you have to move to the other side of the fucking country?” he says, grinning down at you as you wipe at your eyes.

Will and Frankie join you and Will tucks his arm around your waist next to Diana as you all stand in a tight little group, grinning at each other, not quite believing that you’re all here.

“So who’s this little guy?” Benny asks, putting his finger out for Jack to grab.

“Long story,” Frankie says, “but we met his mother on the way here, she was dying unfortunately, so we took care of him. She told us her brother was out in Wyoming with a group of people, that’s how we met these guys,” he gestures at the patrol dispersing around them.

“And now he’s ours,” you smile down at the grinning baby, “His name’s Jack, named after his uncle, but unfortunately he died before we found him, so we felt kinda responsible for little baby Jack.”

“He’s adorable,” Diana says, smiling at Jack and getting a toothy grin back, “And being parents suits you,” she says, “you guys look happy.”

“Yeah, you do, happy and healthy,” Will says, looking at Frankie who dips his eyes to his boots, reaching out and taking hold of your hand before he looks back up.

“We are…I am, really happy, and healthy,” he smiles, glancing over at you, “I’ll tell you all about it later, but yeah, I’m doing really good, better than ever I think.”

“Good to hear, man,” Benny says with a grin, clapping Frankie on the shoulder.

Maria approaches the group with a smile, looking at the newcomers.

“I take it these are your friends from Boston?” she says, holding out her hand and introducing herself to them all.

“I’m going to guess you’ve had a pretty long and rough journey so I’ll let these two take care of you tonight,” she nods at Frankie and you with a smile, “I can imagine you have a lot of catching up to do too. I’ve assigned all of you to the house across the street from the Morales’ for now, but there’s another empty house if you’d rather live separately with your partners.”

“Thank you very much, “ Will says, “We really appreciate it, thanks for letting us come here, taking us in like this.”

“Oh, we’ll make you work for it, don’t worry,” Maria grins, giving you all a wave before she walks off.

“C’mon,” Frankie says, “Let us show you your house and then we’ll sort dinner at our house.”

“I cannot believe you have a fucking house, Fish,” Benny grins as the six of you, and baby Jack, set off down the street.

“Yeah, I’m getting used to it now but it was weird the first few months,” Frankie says, “and then we got electricity, we managed to fix the dam last year, and it started feeling like normal life again.”

“You’ve got hot water?” Eve asks, you can hear the hope in her voice and it makes you laugh, you remember the feeling of the first hot shower you had once the electricity was working again.

“We do indeed,” you say, smiling at her as she bounces on the balls of her feet, “and lots of it.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to drown myself in a hot shower….” she sighs and Benny hooks his arm around her shoulders.

“You n’ me both, babe,” he grins, “together and-”

“And maybe we really should look into that other house Maria mentioned,” Will interrupts, as you and Diana laugh, “I am not sharing a house with my baby bro again.”

“Don’t worry,” you smile, “I’ll ask Maria which one it is tomorrow. There are still plenty of empty houses around Jackson.”

“This is us,” Frankie says, as you all arrive on your street, and he points to the dark green house that’s now yours, “And you guys are in this one, for as long as you want.” He points across the street to a pale yellow wooden house with a porch similar to the one that wraps around your house.

“Nice, very nice, you guys!” Benny is already pulling Eve by the hand towards the yellow house and you all follow them inside. It’s sparsely decorated but clean, most of what the previous owner left behind is still here.

“There should be clean towels and sheets upstairs and I’ll get you soap and shampoo from the community center,” Frankie says, showing them all around as you get the fire going in the living room and turn on the heating.

“It’ll take a while for the water to heat up but the rooms should start getting warm straight away,” you say to Will as he wanders into the living room again. You stand up and put the fire guard in front of the fireplace and he comes over and puts his arm around your shoulder with a smile.

“It’s really good to see you two again,” he says, looking down at you, “seeing Frankie doing so well, he looks like a new man.”

“Will, I’m really sorry we took off without saying anything to any of you, especially right after Santi…”

“I know, I get it,” he interrupts, “If you’d come to me and told me what you planned, I would’ve stopped you, or probably gone with you. I know you did the only thing you could to save Frankie, he needed to get away from Boston, from Joel, he wasn’t strong enough to withstand it.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to leave Diana behind, or bring her on a really risky venture,” you take his arm and lead him to the couch in front of the fireplace and you both sit down, “I know how loyal you and Benny are to Frankie, but I…I couldn’t risk your lives, or Diana and Eve’s, for Frankie’s problems.”

“Yeah…” Will sighs, “I understand, I would’ve done the same, if Benny had those problems, I’d do anything, but I wouldn’t want anyone else to risk their lives.” He nods, looking over at the fire that’s spreading warmth across the room, “He’s lucky to have you, what you did…” he looks over at you again and gives you a crooked smile, “you’ve saved his life more times than he even knows.”

“I know,” Frankie says and you both look up, he’s standing at the doorway, looking at you with a warm smile. “I know I owe her everything, even from before the outbreak, she was always way more than what someone like me deserves.” He comes over and sinks down onto the couch next to you and pulls you in under his arm, “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making it up to her.”

“Good, I’m glad you know it, or I would’ve had to let Benny knock some sense into you,” Will grins

“I keep telling you, you deserve a lot more than what you think, Frankie,” you say, leaning into him. His soft brown eyes look down at you and there’s a hint that maybe he’s starting to believe you, after all these years as he smiles. You can’t resist, even though Will is sitting right next to you, you reach up and press your lips to his, and you can feel him nip at your bottom lip. Will clears his throat, but chuckles as he shifts in his seat.

“Keep that shit in your own house, please.”

“Yeah, you’ve got an entire house to yourselves, please keep that out of my house,” Benny snorts as he walks into the room, baby Jack snuggled on his hip.

“I see you’ve made a friend,” you laugh as Jack happily tugs at Benny’s long hair.

“Yeah, he’s a cool little bean,” Benny grins as he carefully unfurls Jack's chubby little fingers, “and with a killer grip, ouch, little man, give me a break!”

“He used to tug at Frankie’s beard all the time,” you say, “he had to keep it short or Jack would rip all of it out.”

“And I know, I didn’t have much to start with,” Frankie says, “I’m just saying it before any of you point it out.”

His remark makes you all laugh and Jack happily joins in.

“I think the water is hot enough now, so I’m jumping in the shower,” Diana says from the doorway, “and there’s shampoo and soap and everything up stairs too.”

“I’ll come with you, honey,” Will says and pushes himself off the couch.

“We’ll let you guys get cleaned up, settle in,” Frankie looks over at you as Benny hands you Jack, “we’ll get dinner sorted so just come over whenever you’re ready, you know where we are.”

…

You glance out through your kitchen window as you chop some fresh buckram for the chicken, you can see Benny through the window of the other house, pulling a hoodie over his t-shirt as he talks to Eve. It feels surreal, but also like the most natural thing in the world, to have them here, in a normal world, finally. To have your best friends, and Frankie’s best friends, living across the street, cooking dinner for them, looking forward to a long evening of catching up.

Behind you Frankie comes into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, the tip of his nose pressed against your neck.

“Jack’s asleep, out like a light,” he murmurs, “too much excitement I think.”

“We should hire Benny as a nanny,” you smile, “they were great together.”

“Yeah, Benny was always great with kids, probably because he’s a big kid himself,” Frankie chuckles, “I’ll go let them in,” he says as you see the four of them leave their house, Eve gives you both a big wave as they spot you in the kitchen window.

You hear them tumble into the house, Benny is telling some story about deer and even though your back is against them you can sense Will’s exasperated eye roll at his brother.

You put the tray in the oven and clean your hands, grab the whiskey bottle Frankie has left on the kitchen table and follow the noise into the living room.

“So tell us, what took you so long to get here?” Frankie asks, pulling glasses from a cabinet, “and what happened to the radio, all we heard was that FEDRA shut it down.”

“FEDRA was listening in, like we suspected,” Will says, “They came in the next morning before Sean even got there and took everything, equipment, notes, spare parts, left nothing.” Will takes a glass of whiskey from Frankie and groans as he sips it.

“Good stuff, Fish…” he takes another sip, “And we had to run, we got a tip off from Sean’s grandkid that they were coming for us, were gonna take us for planning on leaving the QZ. We grabbed our bags and got out, didn’t plan anything, wasn’t time.”

“Shit,” Frankie mutters, “surprised you even got out of Boston like that.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy,” Will shakes his head, “we got caught just outside the wall, had to take down a couple of FEDRA soldiers and Benny was grazed by a bullet.”

“It was nothing,” Benny scoffs, “I’ve had much worse, and on the bright side, we got their guns and ammo, made things easier down the line.”

“Yeah, we ran into a bunch of raiders who tried to ambush us,” Will continues, “took them out and stole their truck, a FEDRA truck they must’ve stolen from a patrol. We made it pretty far in that but winter hit early in Nebraska, the roads were impassable and we couldn’t continue. So we decided to stay at an isolated farm we found, way off the main highway. It was untouched, full of supplies, the luckiest fucking find of my life, it saved us,” Will shakes his head, looking over at Diana, “it got pretty rough for a while there, before we found it.”

Diana nods, taking his hand in hers, “I don’t think we’d be here if Will hadn’t scouted ahead and found it. Eve and I were starving, didn’t have clothes for the cold, but Will got us through it, saved us.”

“Ironhead lived up to his nickname,” Benny grins, but he’s looking at his brother with a rare softness, “I was starting to give up on us just as he came back, middle of a fucking blizzard, barely any shelter, couldn’t light a fire in all the snow, we were all freezing. Di’s right, if Will hadn’t found that farm, we wouldn’t have made it.”

“Alright, tell us how you got here, Fish,” Will shrugs, changing the subject and taking a deeper sip of the whiskey.

Frankie gives Will a shrug in return, “It was rough, but we got here easier than you I think. We took that car we had stashed, and got pretty far in it. But we…I…” he looks over at you and you put your arm around his waist, giving him a small hug, “I had to stop, the withdrawals got too bad…she had to take care of me while I got it out of my system. After that we got half way through Nebraska, where we found Jack and his mom, and then almost all the way before we ran out of gas. Walked for two days before Maria and Pat found us.”

“I know I yelled at you over the radio,” Benny says, looking serious, “but I’m glad you guys left, even the way you did it, and I’m really fucking glad you got through it. I just wish you’d fucking told us how bad it got before it got that bad.”

Frankie nods, looking at the toes of his boots as he usually does, but then he draws a deep breath and lifts his eyes and meets Benny’s gaze, “Yeah, I should’ve told you all, right from the start, I knew you guys would have my back, but I was too ashamed, just too ashamed of admitting how bad it got,” he looks over at you, you’ve still got your arm around him and meets your eyes with a steady look, “I was afraid she’d think I was too much work, how fucked up I was, and finally give up on me,” Frankie leans forwards and presses his forehead against yours, “but now I know she’ll never give up on me.”

You smile and cup his cheek, letting your thumb stroke his scruffy beard, “Never Frankie.”

Frankie gives you a small smile before he sits up straight again and his eyes go dark, losing some of the softness they just had.

“One of us is missing,” he says, glancing around the room, “and it’s my fault. Pope should be here now too, but I failed him, I fucked up and he had to pay for it.” Frankie’s voice wavers before he draws a deep breath, you can see how he digs his fingernails into the palm of his hand. “I think about him every day, how much I miss him, h-how good it would be to have him here.”

His voice breaks and you can feel tears filling up your eyes as you reach out and take his hand, unfurling his tight fist, smoothing it out under your fingertips.

“You know Pope would be proud of you for how far you’ve come,” Will says, “you were always his brother, and because of it, he was always the hardest on you when you fell back into it. But now, Frankie…he’d be so happy and proud of you, with your wife, and baby Jack.”

Benny suddenly stands up, pulling Eve with him, raising his glass.

“We need to make toast, to Pope,” he says, looking around at all of you as you get to your feet. Frankie puts his arm around your shoulders as you lean into him, your arm around his waist, holding him tight.

“We should all say something to him,” Benny raises his glass higher, “we never got a chance to send him off back in Boston, but now we’re all here, together again, and safe, we should say something.”

“Go first then Benny,” Will says, motioning to his brother and Benny looks into the distance, gathering his thoughts before he begins.

“Pope, you could be the most annoying fucker ever, but the best wingman I’ve ever had, from the first day we met back in basic, to the very last. I miss you man, but I’ll see you again.” Benny fights to keep his voice steady and draws a deep breath before he looks over at Will.

He rubs his hand over his face before he slowly nods, “Santiago, you drove me fucking insane with your crazy plans, but somehow you always knew what you were doing and I learned to trust you and your instinct, it never failed us. My greatest failure is letting you down at the end, I hope we meet again so you can tell me how we should’ve gotten you out in time. I miss you brother,” Will looks up at the ceiling, raising his glass and you all do the same.

Frankie draws a deep breath, he doesn’t know how he’ll keep his shit together for this, but he needs to do it, with everyone here, it feels like Pope is listening.

“Hermano,” he begins, looking up at a vague spot on the wall, gathering his thoughts, before he feels tears well up in his eyes and he has to draw a deep breath, “hermano…I fucking miss you, miss you so fucking much. And…I…I have so many things I wish I’d done differently…but I did what you said the last time we talked. I got past it, with her help, and I did it for you, and for her. You said we’re family and I really wish Jack could meet his tio Santi. But I know you have a job to do, wherever you are, and I know you’re looking out for her until I’m there to see her again,” Frankie pauses, drawing a deep breath, his eyes overflowing as he looks down at his toes, “Tell her, her dad loves her. Te quiero, hermano.”

He raises his glass, taking your hand in his, holding it tight, and the others do the same, “For Santiago Garcia, the best brother anyone of us could ask for, for lost friends, for family, and for a better life.”

“For Santiago,” echoes around the room and you sip the sharp whiskey, letting it burn on the way down. You feel Frankie’s eyes on you and as you meet his eyes he leans closer, his lips finding yours, pressing warm and soft against your mouth.

“For family,” he whispers.

Epilogue

So here we are, at the end. As in most stories, the story continues, but outside the frame. There is an epilogue coming too, but this is where the story ends. I am pretty emotional about writing the very end of this, it's been with me since April and I never thought then that it would grow so much in scope, in length. I love these two fools so much and I love how much in love they are, how through it all it's what keeps the two of them together and fighting for the other one. It's very hard to say good bye to them and I'll miss them so much! But I think I'll have to update the intro to this story to help any new readers tackle it! I think I'm close to hitting 300k words… Thank you everyone for all your comments, your reblogs, your love, your encouragement and support! It's a cliche, but I never could've kept going if you all hadn't kept cheering me on, saying so many lovely things about the story and making me want to keep sharing the ideas in my head. Love you all!

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446 @your-slutty-gf

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales/reader

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Epilogue

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5,849

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So this is it, the epilogue, the end. I'm so sad to say goodbye to this series. I've really loved writing it, even if it kicked my ass a couple of times. I know I've said this already, but it definitely bears repeating - I'm so unbelievably grateful for the love and support you've all shown this series. Thanks so much - and I hope you enjoy this little peak into Dean and Y/N's lives a decade later. This ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. Lol! Enjoy! ❤️

Main Master List || Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Spring, 10 Years Later

The rumbling engine of the Impala was silenced as Dean pulled into the garage and parked Baby in her spot. The camp had eight cars now, so they'd had to expand the garage two summers before. The cars got shuffled around all the time, but Baby always kept her spot on the end. Everyone knew it was her spot.

The late afternoon sun shone in through the garage windows as Dean removed the keys from the ignition and pushed them back into his black, denim jacket pocket.

Sam was sitting beside him and shot him a questioning look when Dean didn't immediately jump out. “Dean?” 

Dean nodded and then looked over at his little brother. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Sam sighed. He'd already answered this question from his brother, in various forms, three or four times. 

The Deerling Survivors Camp, a small camp located almost seventy miles away, had sent a message to Dean a week earlier, requesting a face-to-face meeting. Dean had asked Sam to come along and they'd stayed overnight at the fledgling camp. The pseudo-leader there, just a young kid who’d been thrust into the role, had asked them to let Deerling join Camp Chitaqua, and after seeing the shape of the camp, Dean had agreed on the spot.

Years earlier the four smaller camps surrounding Chitaqua had joined them, expanding the camp by miles and miles and raising the population by more than two hundred people. It had been a big decision, and Dean had consulted with the council for a couple days before agreeing to the expansion. 

It was a very good decision in the end, since they now had enough land to plant six, four acre farm plots. They made sure to rotate crops, leaving one field fallow every season and using it for grazing pasture. But all that fertile land meant that the campers all had plenty of fresh vegetables. Their expanded size also allowed them to enlarge their barn, so they could now house and care for four cows and a bull, two horses, dozens of chickens, a rooster, two pigs, and eight sheep. 

They'd bartered and traded with other camps for most of their animals or found them wandering around alone and unclaimed. But they bought their sheep from a farmer living in what used to be Iowa. A lot of farmers had started over there, scratching out a new life from the soil, now that the world had started turning once again.

Seven years ago they'd finally succeeded in producing a vaccine. It had taken a lot of hard work. For three years, every single person that worked on it did so with nothing more than a promise of a better tomorrow. 

It had taken another two plus years to get the word and the vaccine out to people, but now most of the population was vaccinated. The vaccine had also been carried overseas. They couldn't be sure how things were going across the pond because communication was still very limited. But they'd heard rumors that it was going well. 

Some infrastructure was up and running again; they had electricity in some places, and some cities had running water again. There were even some places that had phone lines connected - in and around the bigger cities where people were beginning to congregate.

Things seemed to be progressing quickly out west in the former California, where they'd reportedly started broadcasting some form of Television again. Not very many people had TVs anymore to watch, but it seemed comforting to people just to know something resembling their former lives was returning. 

Not everything was perfect, of course. There was no centralized government, or structured, widespread laws. Most areas had variations of camps like Chitaqua with leaders in charge, or occasionally small, internally elected governments that ran the camp. Lawlessness still existed in a lot of places, but it was being beaten further back every day as groups banded together. 

There were also still some areas that were uninhabitable because massive groups of Croats still roamed there. The researchers that had created the vaccine were working on a cure for those who’d already been infected, but thus far they’d proved unsuccessful. Croat attacks still happened sometimes, but the vaccine meant that people just had to deal with the bite itself, making sure it was healing properly - something that was becoming easier as medical stations were springing up in and around larger populations as well, as doctors went back to healing people as they’d been trained to do.

Chitaqua had a physician, Dr. Turner, who lived in the camp. The Medical Tent was no more and instead the doctor’s office and their cache of medical supplies were now housed in a big log structure that had been tiled inside to keep it as clean and sanitary as possible. Patrick was happy to be rid of guard duties these days, working alongside Dr. Turner to watch over the health and well-being of the campers.

There weren’t many tents left nowadays either. They had a bunch stored away in case the camp ended up with a big influx of new campers and temporary housing was needed. But most people lived in log cabins of varying sizes, dotted over the two and a half square miles of the camp. There were well over five hundred people in the camp now, since amalgamating the four other camps. They also had a reputation for being a prosperous, strong community, so people tended to migrate there as well - which continued to add to their numbers.

Now, after the meeting with the Deerling camp, they’d be adding another ninety-six people to their ranks, inflating their population to nearly seven hundred people. Dean was worried about the fact that he’d made the decision to absorb the smaller camp without consulting the council this time. 

The council was a group made up of eight other people besides Dean. Sam and Y/N were on it, as well as Brandy, Risa, Dr. Turner, and three other campers who were there representing the hunters, the farmers and the builders.

Day-to day decisions were still handled by Dean, but he relied on the council for other bigger decisions - taking their thoughts, ideas and opinions into account before he ultimately made a decision. Agreeing to take in another flock of people and develop another thirty acres of land was definitely one of those big decisions he’d normally take to the council, which was why, Sam knew, Dean had been second guessing his unilateral decision to say yes to Deerling’s request.

Sam shook his head at his brother as he answered Dean’s worry again. “Dean, you acted out of generosity, the council will understand. I can vouch for the fact that those campers need a lot of help very quickly. Those kids were starving, you could see that.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I just brought the camp more strain on resources with no benefits.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, there’s the land.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, unfarmable land that’s separated from us by almost eighty miles. And Brisbane camp sits between us and Deerling, and they already think we’re trying to take them over. Joining with a group on the other side of them is gonna make them even more suspicious and possibly turn them unfriendly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have consulted the council.”

“Dean, there’s no way the council would have opted to just let a bunch of kids and sick people die. They’re definitely going to agree with your decision, and this way you’ve simply ensured that we can get food and medicine out to them by tomorrow instead of making them wait days for it. Trust me, you made the right decision.”

Dean grunted his response, still unsure. 

Sam slapped the back of his hand against Dean’s shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna go talk with the Doc about getting supplies together and coming out there with me tomorrow. Will you talk with Brandy later about food?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” A smile finally lit his face. “And then I’m goin’ home.”

Sam smiled and opened his door to climb out of the Impala. “Good plan. Give Y/N and the kids a kiss for me.”

Dean climbed out too and slammed his door behind him. He called Sam back as his brother began to walk away. 

“We should also figure out a time and day to have a sit down with the new leader from Brisbane, talk with her about our intentions regarding Deerling. She’s tough, but she seems more approachable and level-headed than their last leader. Maybe we can convince her we’re not looking to take anything over.” 

Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Dean frowned. “What’s her name again?”

“Eileen Leahy.” 

Dean noticed his brother’s cheeks turn pink and he immediately turned back into an annoying big brother, his grin wide. 

“Right, right, you met with her alone last time. She’s cute, huh? Something we should know? Maybe you should invite her over to our place for dinner next week. We can have our little sit down conversation then. What do you think?”

Sam had already turned and started walking away. “You’re an idiot!” He called back over his shoulder. But Dean made a mental note to tell Y/N all about it later. 

With Y/N firmly in mind he started out across the camp. Their cabin was situated on top of a low hill in the Southwest section of the camp, not all that far from where their old red tent used to sit.

They’d built their cabin when they came back to Chitaqua eight years ago after helping to set up the research facility. The vaccine was still a year away, but they’d done all they could do and they were ecstatic that after two years of traveling back and forth from camp, gathering doctors, researchers and searching for other psychic kids, (they’d only found two others) and after Y/N had given gallons of her blood to science, they could finally come home for good. 

Not long after returning home, Y/N realized she was pregnant and Dean became obsessed with building them a beautiful home. It was around that time that the camps had all joined together and building homes for everyone became a priority of the camp. 

The builders grew in numbers as they took on apprentices and taught them the trade so that more people in the camp could join in the work. It took almost four years of constant building, but eventually all five hundred plus campers had permanent homes.

Gotta pull the tents out for the Deerling folks, Dean thought as he walked, his mind immediately occupied with figuring out the logistics of where the new campers could stay, and how they could join in the life of the camp, once they were all healthy.

He stopped by Food Storage and spoke with Brandy as Sam had requested. And just as his brother had suspected, when he explained the situation, Brandy was one council member who was very glad he’d made the decision he had. He felt more sure now that the others would feel the same.

As Dean wound his way through camp he got stopped quite a few times, people wanting to talk with him about one concern or another. He generally pointed them in the direction of the person or group in the camp that could help them. But he also got stopped by friends wanting to say hi and talk for a moment or two.

He was happy to talk, but anxious to get home to Y/N.

He looked out towards the large school building where Y/N still taught every day. The new building had been built on the site where the main cabin had been burned down. It was even bigger than the old cabin, with six rooms for the seven teachers that worked there now. 

Y/N was also the principal of the school for all intents and purposes; she and the other teachers taught over two hundred kids from ages five to sixteen. Theresa had finished school and immediately joined the staff as a teacher, working with Y/N every day and loving it. Brandy was so proud.

But Dean wasn’t surprised to see the building empty now, however; he knew it was a day off. He picked up his pace, weaving through the buildings that resided where the old tents had taken up space. 

They’d greatly expanded the food storage, and had an entirely different rations system now that fresh vegetables, fruit, fish and game made up the vast majority of their diet. Brandy was still in charge and was constantly innovating to make things easier and to stretch their food as far as they could in order to feed everyone. 

The former tent area also housed three large storage sheds, a small building that worked as an office/meeting space for whatever group needed to use it, and a small mill where they processed the wheat they grew - that process had included a steep learning curve, but they’d eventually made it work.

There was also a small, open area where a kind of market had popped up organically as the campers traded amongst themselves for things like homemade jewelry, homemade clothes, and other non-essentials.

He walked behind the buildings and began climbing the gently rising path that led to their cabin at the top of the hill. About halfway home he heard loud barking and looked up to see their seven year old Bernese-Husky cross, Clifford, bounding towards him, the way he usually did when any of the family came home. 

“Hey, boy.” Dean said softly, scratching him behind the ears. “Miss me?”

Clifford barked happily in answer and ran ahead and then back to where Dean stood, obviously urging him on towards home. Dean laughed and sped up, chasing after the big dog who sometimes still acted like a puppy.

As the path through the trees ended, opening up into their wide front yard, Dean sighed deeply. “Home sweet home.” He murmured. 

Even though he'd been away less than two days, he was still so happy to be home. He felt the peace that filled him up every time he stepped around the last bend in the path and caught sight of their home in the distance.

The way smoke curled lazily from the chimney and the scent of something delicious wafted through the half open Dutch door, never failed to make him ache to get his arms around his wife and bask in her light. Dean shook his head at his sentimental thoughts, but hurried his pace to get inside. 

As he drew closer however, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see his son walking East, coming out from behind the house. Dean figured he was heading over to his friend Freddie's, and he was about to continue on into the cabin, but then he noticed what his eight-year-old was holding in his hand.

“Gabriel Eric Winchester!” 

Dean's voice bellowed out, freezing the young boy where he stood. Dean strode towards him, anger clear on his face. To the boy's credit, even when he turned and saw his father's anger, he still walked forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of him. 

The gun he held, however, was tucked just behind his back, as though he was hoping Dean hadn't noticed it. 

Dean held his hand out. “Give that to me this second.”

Gabe's face fell and he brought the gun forward reluctantly, dropping it onto Dean's palm. 

Dean immediately checked to make sure the small, .38 caliber, Smith and Wesson revolver was unloaded and when he saw it was, he held it in his fist, directly in front of Gabe's eyes.

“What the hell do you think you're doing with this?”

His son's eyes were wide and they got watery quickly. 

He shrugged. “I was just gonna bring it to Freddie's. Josh said he could teach us to shoot.” He said, referring to his friend’s older brother. “Just cans on a fence.” He was quick to reassure Dean.

“And did you ask your mother if you could remove a gun from the weapons chest?” Dean asked, already well aware of the answer. 

Gabe shook his head. “No.” He said quietly.

“How did you get it?” Dean asked brusquely.

Gabriel’s voice was still soft as he admitted what he’d done. “I grabbed it yesterday when mom took out a rifle to scare away some raccoons that were trying to get into the compost. Josh said he could teach us if we had guns. So when I saw it last night I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at Dean's face.

“So what you're telling me,” Dean said quietly, “is that while your mother's back was turned you STOLE a gun and planned to use it without asking either of us for permission.”

Gabe's tears spilled down his cheek at his father's disappointed tone and accurate words. He nodded and then sniffed. 

“I'm sorry.” He said thickly. 

Dean crouched down so he could look his son in the eye. “Gabe, a gun is not a toy. I thought you knew this. It's not something to mess around with or use on a whim. It is a weapon. It's incredibly dangerous. If you'd gone off and started shooting, even just at cans, you could have seriously hurt or killed yourself or your friends. Do you understand me?”

Gabe nodded but bit his lip. “But you carry a gun.” He said, pointing to the ever present gun strapped to Dean’s thigh. “And you started using guns when you were even younger than me. I heard you talking about it to mom before. And I…” He sniffled again. “I just wanted to be like you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Oh, buddy, I want you to be so much more than me. Your mom and I, we've worked really hard to make things better for you guys, to make the world safer so that when you grow up, hopefully you won’t have to walk around with a gun strapped to you at all times. It’s my job to protect the people in this camp. That’s why I carry a gun, and why I sometimes carry a rifle. But that’s not your job. Your job is to just be a little boy.”

Dean saw Gabriel pout a bit about being called a little boy. He smiled gently and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Trust me, buddy, you should enjoy being a kid, don’t try to grow up too quickly.”

Gabe nodded begrudgingly and Dean pulled his son in for a hug. After a moment, he pulled back from him and stood up straight again, before nodding towards the cabin. “Go to your room now until supper, and when you come out, you’ll owe your mother an apology for going behind her back. Also, nothing but school and home for a week, do you understand?”

Gabe looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it when Dean gave him a stern look. “Yes, sir.” He said in acceptance and turned to run into the cabin.

“Gabriel!” Dean called. When his son turned back, the tear tracks on his grubby cheeks still visible, Dean spoke quietly but with conviction. “I love you and that’s why I know you can do better.”

Gabe’s face lost some of its forlorn look and he gave Dean a slightly awkward smile, lightly banging his fist against the side of his leg. “Love you too, Dad.” He said quickly before bolting for the house.

Dean shook his head and slipped the gun into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to have a few more conversations with his son about gun safety and responsibility, but he was confident he could drill the dangers into him.

He walked up the stairs to the front door, more than ready to see Y/N and his girls. When he walked inside, however, he could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door, and they didn’t sound very happy.

He pushed open the swinging door and saw Y/N and Emma inside. Y/N’s face lit up. “Dean!” She said happily as she saw him and crossed to the door to pull him down for a kiss. 

“Ew.” Emma said.

It was the standard reaction from all of their kids when they kissed in front of them. Emma had a hand over her eyes as Dean finished the kiss and looked over to where she stood by the sideboard that held all their plates, cups and glasses.

“You can look now, kiddo, we’re all finished.” Dean told her with a grin. “For the moment.”

Emma rolled her eyes and made Dean chuckle. Y/N frowned up at him. “Did I hear you yelling at Gabe?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, gotta talk to you about that, but you guys sounded angry when I came in. Anything wrong?”

Y/N looked at Emma and shrugged. “I’ve been telling Emma that she needs to invite her new friend for dinner.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled as he looked at Emma. “You don’t want to bring your friend over for dinner?”

Emma looked at Y/N with frustration, clearly annoyed that she’d told Dean anything. 

Dean tried again. “What’s going on kiddo, since when don’t you want us to meet your friends? Who is it, by the way? Didn’t realize any new kids had started at the school.”

Y/N shook her head. “Jeffrey’s not a new student, he’s just a new…friend.” She said meaningfully. 

Dean caught on and his face immediately dissolved into a scowl. “Oh.” He said without enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See?” Emma barked out, pointing at Dean, but talking to Y/N. “I told you this is how he’d be!!”

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “What are you talking about?”

Emma folded her arms, her posture and scowl mirroring Dean’s. “You get like this every time I bring a boy home, even when he’s absolutely just a friend. You scare the shit out of them!”

“Emma!” Y/N said, reprimanding her for her language..

But Dean just scoffed. “I don’t know what you mean. How do I scare them?”

Emma glared at him. “You interrogate them, Daddy, you know you do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, if they’re too freaked out to answer a few simple questions then-”

“Simple questions?” Emma interrupted with a humorless laugh. “When I invited Timothy Sutherland over here you forced him to sit down and answer a thousand questions about his family, his background, where he grew up, what his plans were when we finished school. He ran out of here and never looked back.”

Dean threw his arms out. “Do you really wanna date a loser like that anyway? Who can’t even answer a couple questions?”

“Ugh!” Emma stomped her foot and stormed out the back door. 

Silence reigned for a moment when Emma left before Y/N turned towards Dean, giving him a tilted smile. “So, welcome home!” She said in a would-be cheerful voice.. 

Dean sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They enjoyed the simple peace of each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Y/N spoke.

“What happened with Gabe?” She asked.

“He stole a gun and was gonna go shoot cans with Josh and Freddie Young.”

“What?” Y/N shouted, pulling back to look into Dean’s face.

He nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I handled it. He’s in his room till supper and he’s grounded for a week. And I talked to him about how dangerous guns were. I have more conversations planned around the subject for the near future.”

Y/N shook her head before laying it back on Dean’s chest. “Good lord.”

After a couple minutes Y/N pulled away and poured them each a cup of coffee. They settled beside each other at the wooden table and instinctively linked fingers.

Dean took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I don’t really interrogate all her boyfriends, do I?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Well, she’s never actually had a real boyfriend. And I don’t think that's because boys don’t want to date her. She’s smart and kind, beautiful and well-liked. So…” She shrugged. “It seems probable that the boys who like her are just too intimidated by her father - you know, the legend who fought monsters, Croats, angels, and WON - the soldier that leads the camp, wears a gun, and asks scary questions, all while donning a very good mean-face.”

Dean exhaled loudly, but before he could respond, their youngest child came bouncing into the room. She was just six years old, and looked so much like Emma at that age that it sometimes caught Dean off guard. 

But she was definitely her own little bundle of energy. Having never known hunger or hardship, she was all bright smiles and busy excitement. It seemed as though she’d been born smiling and simply hadn't stopped. Very little bothered her, and she was absolutely spoiled by the entire family, including their found family members in the camp.

Everyone loved Hope.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Hope shouted as she jumped into his lap.

“Oof.” He grunted as she landed hard on some sensitive places. “Hey sweetheart!” He said, slightly out of breath. 

“I missed you. Mommy said you might not come home until tomorrow, but I said that you would come home quick because you like to be home and you don’t like to stay away. Right?”

He nodded, trying to keep up with her racing words. “Yeah, baby, I love to be home.” 

Before his sentence was ended Hope was on to her next thought. “I saw Emmie running out the back door and I tried to talk to her, but she looked mad. She was sitting on the tree swing in the back and I wanted a turn, so I told her to push me, but she just helped me on the swing and then she left to walk through the front yard and leave. And when I tried to follow her, she told me not to leave the yard and to go inside and see you cause you were back. So, I did.” She paused for breath before asking, “Why was Emmie mad?”

Y/N answered. “It’s nothing sweet pea. Why don’t you help me make supper? You can shuck the corn.”

Hope clapped her hands. “Yes, I want to pull all the strings off.” 

Y/N held her daughter’s hand as she hopped off of Dean’s lap, and then leaned forward to kiss Dean slowly. 

“Ew.” Hope said, shielding her eyes as her sister had. 

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips and whispered to him. “Go talk to your daughter.”

Dean nodded and stood up, bending to kiss Hope’s shiny chestnut curls on the crown of her head. “Hey, promise me something short one.” He said, continuing when she looked up at him. “Promise you’ll take a really long time to grow up, okay?”

She smiled at him, cheeks round and rosy. “Okay, daddy.”

He winked at Y/N who smiled indulgently. “She promises.”

***

Dean instinctively knew where he’d find his oldest child. She coped with stress and frustration the same way he did, the way he’d taught her to. 

He walked through the door of the garage and sure enough, there was Emma, wearing old, blue coveralls that were too big for her, and bent over the hood of the little Chevy hatchback that sat next to the Impala. He knew she heard him come in, but she didn’t say anything, just kept working. 

Dean hopped up on Baby’s hood and waited for her to be ready to talk. Eventually, she caved and looked over at him, her face slightly shuttered and a little hard to read. “Hi.” She said simply.

He smiled at her. “Hey kiddo.” He nodded at the open hood she was under. “How are things looking? Still need a new oil pan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I replaced that last week. Risa found me one in the back of the storage shed.”

“Good.” Dean said. They were both quiet as Emma leaned back in and continued working. 

After a moment she cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m gonna need new brake pads though. Think we could go to Lowry’s and see what he’s got.” She asked, referring to a guy in Brisbane who collected car parts and often traded with them.

“Sure. I’ll be busy for the next day or so. But we can go after that. One day after school?” He asked.

Emma nodded and stood up, wiping her hands on the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. She was quiet as she slammed the hood closed and then stepped out of the coveralls and hung them up on the hook beside the door.

She wandered over to Baby and hoisted herself up beside Dean on the hood. After a moment she leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dad. I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer, and then wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, baby. Apparently I’ve been unconsciously scaring away the tons of boys who would otherwise be beating down our door. Though, if I’m being completely truthful, it probably wasn’t entirely unconscious. Cause I just know not a one of them is gonna be good enough for you.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t think it’s tons of boys, Daddy. And I’m not interested in a bunch of boys. I’m interested in Jeffery. And I really do want you to meet him. I think if you give him a chance you’d like him. He’s really sweet and funny and just…” She sighed. “I just like him.”

Dean squeezed her again and felt his chest constrict with love and bittersweet memories, remembering how she used to crawl into his lap and let him read her to sleep. Those days were long gone, but she was still that little girl to him and she probably always would be. But he knew she was growing up and he needed to loosen his grip, at least a little.

So he sighed now and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. If you like him, I’m sure I’ll like him too. So, invite him over for dinner one evening and I swear to keep my questions to a minimum and be perfectly cordial.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know if cordial is ever a word I’d use to describe you, Dad. Let’s just try to leave out the death stares.”

***

That evening after dinner, it was Gabe and Hope’s turn to do dishes. Gabriel washed and Hope dried with some assistance from Dean. As they were finishing up, Keisha and Julianne showed up on their doorstep asking if Emma was free to go for a walk around camp.

Y/N nodded when Emma looked to her for permission. “That’s fine. Be home before dark. Oh, here.” She said to the twins, grabbing a bag and passing it to them. “Take these home to your mom, it's the dress patterns she loaned me.”

Keisha went to take it, but Y/N pulled it back. “On second thought, nevermind. I’ll bring it to her tomorrow afternoon. Gives me a reason to visit and gossip.”

The girls all laughed and then waved as they headed out the door. Dean had to smile as they walked away, their high pitched voices and giggles floating back to them on a breeze. Some things hadn’t changed and he was grateful. 

Gabe went to his room to read, since he was housebound for the next while. Hope played with some well loved and worn out dolls for a little bit before they took her to her room and put her to bed. They tucked Gabe in not long after, and then took their coffee cups out onto their little front porch and sat in one of the big Adirondack chairs that Dean and Sam had built three years ago.

Y/N settled happily into Dean’s lap, her hands cupped around her warm mug. The late spring air was soft and warm, and the sounds of the camp drifted up the hill towards them. They listened contentedly for a little while as Clifford came out of the house and flopped down on Dean’s feet. 

They talked about the kids and they talked about the Deerling camp; they talked about Sam, and Y/N admonished Dean for teasing him about Eileen. 

“Be nice.” She scolded. “I hope he will bring her to dinner. If he likes her, I mean.”

They talked about anything and everything, and as the sun began to set, Emma came up the path and smiled as she saw her parents cuddled together in one chair. As much as she rolled her eyes and hid her face when they started getting kissy, she loved how much they loved each other. And she knew she’d never settle for anything less than what they had together. 

She told them goodnight and went inside, Clifford rising slowly to follow her and sleep at the end of her bed as he did every night.

Soon the fireflies were buzzing loudly and the camp was getting quiet, so Dean stood up with Y/N still in his arms, leaving their coffee cups to sit on the porch until morning. She laughed as her husband carried her effortlessly into their bedroom.

He set her on her feet and locked the door before he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him, crushing her lips beneath his own. Y/N moaned softly and immediately pulled off his flannel shirt and yanked his t-shirt over his head so she could spread her hands across the wide expanse of his still beautifully muscled torso. 

“God I missed you.” She breathed, even though it had only been one night. “I hate when you go away.”

He smiled against her skin as he stripped her down to her bra and panties. “Missed you too, sweetheart. Promise not to go anywhere ever again.”

Y/N laughed at his impossible promise as he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He continued kissing her as he crossed the room and lowered her to the bed. She wouldn’t let go of him and pulled him down on top of her. 

Dean chuckled at her hold on him and then mouthed his way down her body, licking and nipping at her skin. Ten years later she still had the ability to make him instantly hard and aching for her.

They spent most of the night making up for the one they’d been apart. In the darkest part of the night they found light and life in each other’s arms and fell asleep knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and busy - filled with responsibilities, joy, love and most of all…

…hope.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

#endverse!dean #endverse!dean x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #endverse!dean fan fic series #endverse

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Safest with You (Ch. 7 - The Third Date)

5.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Din takes you to see a prize fight, and the evening does not end the way either of you expect.

Warnings: Fluff but also Angst, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, pretty girl, etc.), descriptions of blood splatter, mention of alcohol consumption, men (not Din) harassing reader at a bar, very poor description of boxing by a person who knows nothing about boxing (me.)

A/N: I'm...sorry about this 🫣 Our (first!) chapter with angst; oh my feelings - we will get through it together? For some levity, while I'm trying not to be too heavy handed with the Star Wars references, I did have a lot of fun plopping in some character names from The Mandalorian to make up Din's rag-tag group of mob enforcer friends. Picking a Hutt to insert was another story - I tried to pick a name that (exists and) fit into the scene, but I'm not married to it; if upon reading you think another Hutt family character's canon characteristics are more fitting, please let me know and I'll change it! Thanks and thanks as always for reading!

Series Masterlist

“Ok, hang on, I gotta let Rory into the meeting.”

The mosaic on the screen shifts, and Rory appears in a new tile, “I can’t believe it’s a Saturday and I’m taking a Zoom meeting.”

“Stoppppp. It’s for the greater good – please help me pick an outfit,” you plead with an exaggerated pout.

“You never ask for fashion advice?  We’re always asking you.”

“Ok, thank you for hyping me but for real I need help.  I’m going to a boxing match!?  Movies and pop culture tell me that every woman there is either wearing a bandage dress or a bikini and I’m not wearing either,” you step back to show off your bed that’s cover in heaps of clothing options.

You’re nervous.  Not because of anything Din’s said or done, and not even because it’s the “third date” (not as if you and Din are following any type of out-dated dating script), but because you’re stepping into Din’s world tonight.  So far, you and Din have been dating in a blissful little bubble, just the two of you (and Al!), but tonight, you were going to meet the people closest to him, his people.  When you had confessed your nerves to Din earlier, he had affectionately told you he was proud to be bringing you as his date tonight; you didn’t want to let him down.

In the end, you and your friends opt for a white, off the shoulder silk shirt, loosely tucked into a silver skirt.  The shoulder cut-out of the shirt drapes purposefully low down your arm, revealing the entire strap and more than a little of the top of your lacy black bra chosen especially for Din.  There, you think, it’s not a bikini, but it’s sexy.

Din couldn’t agree more.  Your little lingerie peek-a-boo is nearly all he can think about at the restaurant and the entire cab ride over to the fight venue.  A few times during dinner he might have lost his train of thought mid-sentence, teased mercilessly by that small triangle of lace and the ample curve of your breast that isn’t contained within.  You blush and smirk at his barely concealed drooling.  Now in the cab, Din has his arm draped around you, and you let him absentmindedly toy with the exposed strap; periodically he slips a finger or two under the strap and slides it down as far as your innocent looking white shirt will allow, then back up again.  You can feel your nipples harden against the soft lace, and by the time you step out of the cab, you’re flushed and your core is already fluttering. 

You take Din’s arm and walk with him towards the entrance, still somewhat nervous; Din senses your hesitancy and not used to seeing you withdrawn in any way, he pulls you aside before you get to the main doorway.

Holding you close, one hand lingering on your lower back and the other cupping your face, he gives you a long, deep kiss, meant to be soothing.  Opening your eyes and you murmur, “Just one more, please”.

“One more?”

“One more minute.  One more kiss.  While it’s still just the two of us,” you explain, wistfully.

“Pretty bird, we don’t have to go in.  Just say the word and we’ll go somewhere just you and me.  It can be just the two of us for as long as you’d like,” Din gently strokes your cheek with his thumb and gazes at you with sincerity brimming in his eyes.

Reaching up, you bring Din’s face down to yours and kiss him tenderly.  You want to let him know you’re okay.  You’re nervous, but also somewhat excited to see this world that’s such a big part of Din’s life, and the idea that he wants to include you and introduce you to his friends is actually so touching.  You nuzzle into your favourite little nook right under his jaw, and whisper, “Let’s go in.”

Din takes your hand, and holding on tightly, leads you in to the building.  It’s already insanely busy inside, filled with people here for the fight; as you thread through the crowd, even in the dim lighting, you hear lots of people shouting Din’s name – waving hello, clapping him on the shoulder as they go by.  Din leads you through a side door away from the bustle and takes you down a quiet side corridor; you’re about to ask where you’re going when you see some people up ahead wearing “Mando’s Gym” gear.  In the center of everything, there is an older gentleman in a colourful striped sweatsuit, and a young man, who is wearing baggy grey shorts and a loosely tied warm up robe; you recognize the younger man as Din’s sparring partner from the day you visit the gym after dropping your dry cleaning off at Peli’s.  Din is greeted enthusiastically by both men with big hugs; he claps the younger man on the back and introduces you, then, his voice filling with pride, brags, “Pretty bird, this is Jimmy.  Best middleweight division fighter this side of the bridge.  One of Mando’s best.  And our tireless chief, head coach, Greef Karga, the best of the best.”

You shake their hands happily, and they in turn seem happy to meet you as well; you think you spot them giving each other a knowing look, but it was so fleeting you’re not sure.  Regardless, you enthusiastically wish them luck and let them know how excited you are to be here. When he hears it’s your first fight, Greef tells you you’re in for a treat and gives you some novice spectator pointers – in particular, he tells you to watch out for a move call the “Mando Roll”, a move made famous by Din during his career.  Din hypes Jimmy up with some pep talk and some light combination drills before he takes your hand to go; you wave goodbye to the two men and wish them luck one last time before asking Din, “The Mando Roll, eh?  Didn’t realize I was here with a celebrity.”  You grin at him proudly, and Din’s chest puffs up a little but he responds humbly, “Nah.  Don’t believe everything you hear about me here.  Especially from Paz.  Don’t believe a thing Paz says.”

As if on cue, you come upon the man himself, who seems to be waiting for you and Din so you can all walk to your third row seats together. 

Paz is hilarious.  He has a deep booming voice, and a boisterous spirit about him; he’s huge, bigger than Din, but in the same way you don’t find Din’s size to be imposing, neither do you find Paz’s.  He regales you with childhood stories about Din and tells joke after joke, all the while pretending to ignore Din’s protests and looks of mortification that honestly make everything Paz says even funnier.  He doesn’t forget to ask you questions about yourself, and your heart melts when Din chimes in to brag about you when he thinks you’re not doing so enough yourself; Paz looks impressed before he gives you a mock look of condescension, “You sure you’re with the right guy?” jabbing his thumb at Din.  You look up at Din fondly and nod softly, “Yes, definitely.”  Din can’t stop looking at you either, eyes filled with adoration and, if he’s being honest with himself, maybe love.  When he pulls you in tightly, Paz gives him a look and nod of approval, which Din didn’t need, but finds himself appreciating nonetheless. 

The lights dim and the fighters’ ring entrances begin; you cheer loudly with Din and Paz when Jimmy goes by, looking pumped and intimidating.  The first few rounds of fighting go by in a blur; the fighters move with blinding fast speed, unleashing powerful punch after punch – it’s violent and graceful all at once.  Both Din and Paz are pointing things out to you, teaching you boxing terminology and noting finer points on the bout that you definitely wouldn’t notice otherwise; when the bell dings signaling the end of a particularly intense round, Paz turns to you, “Did you see that last move, with the bob and weave?  That’s the “Mando Roll”.  Your boy invented that!  It’s what’s going to win Jimmy this fight, you just watch.”   You look at Din, who’s got a cocky smile on his face, even though he’s running his hand through his curls, bashfully.  Your eyes shine with pride; you knew from the articles and awards at the gym and his apartment that Din had been a talented and successful fighter… but tonight you’re seeing for the first time that it was more than that.  He’s an important figure in this community, a leader with a legacy… just like his dad.  You make a mental note to share this thought with Din later; for now, you hope he can tell by the expression on your face how proud of him you are. And how proud you are to be here with him.

If you thought the excitement and intensity of the fight would die down a little in the later rounds, you were mistaken; if anything, the crowd gets rowdier and louder, amping the fighters up more, even though they have to be exhausted.  Nearing the end of round 10, Jimmy gets the upper hand against his opponent, drilling him against the ropes before stepping back and delivering a knock out uppercut.  This last punch happens as if in slow motion; Jimmy’s opponent’s feet leave the ground as the force from Jimmy’s glove propels him backwards, body twisting slightly before he falls to the ground unconscious.  Before you’ve finished processing what you’re watching, you’re hit with the losing fighter's blood splatter.  Most of it lands on the people sitting in the rows in front of you, but a fair amount lands on your shirt and you can feel a bit of it on your cheek.  Instinctively, you touch it with your hand, accidently smearing it.  Din looks at you in horror but gathers himself quickly to ask you with deep concern if you’re alright.  You have to admit, you’re not sure how to feel, but you let him know you’re okay with a reassuring smile before asking him to point you in the direction of the restroom so you can clean up.  In the restroom, the droplets that landed on your skin are easily and thoroughly cleaned off, but your shirt is a bit of a mess.  The delicate silk is splattered in a big, almost Pollock-esque pattern; you decide to leave it as is, figuring you’ll probably just turn it into a bigger mess if you try to clean it here. 

You get back to your seat as Jimmy is being declared the winner of the fight in the ring, and you’re glad to see that his opponent has regained consciousness and is standing up of his own accord.  You cheer as Jimmy’s arm is raised as the victor, but notice that Din doesn’t appear to be joining in the reverie.  In fact, he looks downright despondent.  Taking his hand, you give him a soft, but quizzical look and mouth, “Everything okay?”

No. Everything was not okay.  Din had seen a lot bloodshed in his life, hell, he had caused his fair share, but he's never become desensitized to the underlying violence.  He was not prepared for that type of violence, bloody violence, to touch you.  In the second before he had realized where the blood splatter had come from, all he saw was you covered in blood, and he had felt nothing but intense panic and fear.  And maybe, a little voice in his head adds, guilt. Even now, he is reeling from those feelings.  He doesn’t know how to articulate any of this, so instead he drops his eyes to your stained shirt and says sadly, “I’m sorry about the mess, pretty bird.” 

Ducking a little so you’re now holding his gaze, you look softly at Din, somehow knowing he’s feeling more than he’s letting on; you kiss him warmly and whisper, “It’s okay. I’m okay,” before wrapping your arms around Din’s neck and pulling him down into you.  You feel Din’s back muscles relax under your hands, as he presses you in tightly and just holds you for a minute.  Behind your back, Din and Paz lock eyes; a look of understanding passes between the two men before Din closes his eyes and let’s himself melt into your embrace.

Now that the fight is over, most of the crowd moves, almost as one, to a bar across the street for the planned after party.  Din’s mood seems to have lightened considerably; with his arm around your waist, he steers you through the crowd, shouting salutations to people he knows and sporadically introducing you to people as they come up to say hi.  You don’t remember all the names, but they all seem to be people that have known Din from when he was a child, watched Din box during his glory days, are somehow associated with the gym, knew Din’s dad or some combination of the above.  Even more memorable are some of the stories Din whispers in your ear when out of earshot of the person you just met (like the gym member who thought that the Mando’s locker rooms had a nude sauna.  They don’t), and you’re glad that the faces are all kind of a blur because otherwise, you might never be able to face some of these people again.  The entire bar erupts with cheers when Jimmy, Greef and some of the other team from Mando’s arrives; they head straight for Din and you give them your hearty congratulations once Din’s released them from his bear hugs.  You assure Jimmy that you thoroughly enjoyed your first boxing match and you’re glad it was one of his; when Greef learns that you saw the “Mando Roll” he looks like a proud papa bear, of Jimmy or you, you’re not sure.  Slowly, the entire friend group descends on your and Din’s location and you get a chance to meet them all.  In addition to Paz, there’s Woves, Mayfeld, Bo, Koska, and a few younger boxers from the gym, Brian, Santos, and Iggy tonight.  It’s a great group; everyone is welcoming and even appear eager to meet and get to know you.  You dance with Din, laugh at Paz’s jokes and sip drinks with the group. 

At a certain point, you need a bit of a breather, so you volunteer to go to the bar to get the next round of drinks for everyone.  When you give your order to the bartender, you’re told it might take a while given the number of drinks; honestly, you don’t mind and happily take the opportunity to give your social battery a mini-charge, check your messages, and just take in your surroundings.  You’ve missed a lot of messages and you’re about to dive into the group chat when you’re aware of someone standing directly in front of you.  You look up; it’s a stranger, and not one you remember Din introducing you to earlier in the evening. He’s standing uncomfortably close to you, as if you’re already acquainted, which you most certainly are not.  Once the stranger knows he has your attention, he lays on a thick, “Don’t think I’ve seen a pretty thing like you around here before.”  You appraise the man in front of you; he’s okay looking but there’s something about his posture, his presence that’s just... slimy.  Suddenly, you notice on either side of you his friends inching closer, flanking you, and they too seem to have a greasy, sluggish look about them.  You almost sigh; their intent is so obvious, and all the more insidious for not trying to hide it well. Under different circumstances, you would be feeling at best, harassed, and at worst, panic, but with Din and his friends just a few steps away, you know you’re perfectly safe.

“You wouldn’t have.  First time,” you give a thin smile, before making a gesture to show you need to check your phone now.

“Well let me and my friends show you a good time!  We know everyone here.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got a great group of hosts already,” and you point towards Din and his friends.  The men take a look in the direction you’re pointing and seem to hesitate, but then carry on as if what you said is a but a mere inconvenience.

Din had been talking to Paz when he looks over and sees you being surrounded at the bar and hisses, “Fucking Hutts.”  Paz looks over as well, “She looks like she can handle it.”  And it’s true, you really do look like you’re fine (annoyed, but fine), but Din sighs, “Yeah, but she shouldn’t have to.  Those guys are slime.  She shouldn’t be anywhere near them.”  Paz raises an eyebrow, “You wanna talk about what’s really bugging you?  I saw you back there when she got blood on her.  You worried she can’t handle being with a Mando?”

Din shakes his head; it’s not that.  He is sure you can handle anything… but should you have to?

“You’re worried she’s too sweet for all this?” Paz gestures generally.

Sighing again, Din shoulders droop a little, “Maybe.  She’s a good girl, you know?”  That little voice in his head from earlier is nagging him with more insistence now, too good.  He’s watching you, knowing you’d make eye contact with him if you needed help, but he really can’t stand you being so close to those assholes.  You’re not even giving Gorga Hutt and his cronies a forced smile anymore; he sees your mouth make the words: “No, I’m sure.  No, thank you” and he’s off, long strides reaching you with just a few steps.  He walks right past the man standing stupidly close to you, and maintaining eye contact with him, says, “Hutt.”  The man practically sneers back, “Mando,” as Din slides an arm protectively around your waist and turns to stare daggers at the 3 men who have now all lined up together.  Luckily, at this moment, the bartender appears and slides over a tray with all your drinks, so you tug on Din’s arm, “Do you mind helping me carry these?” and like that, the two of you leave the three Hutt men before they can get another word in.

Everyone is thrilled to get their refills, and you take the opportunity to ask, “How come those guys back there called you guys “The Mandos”?  Is it just because of the gym?”

Maybe you imagine it, but there seems to be moment of stalled silence where no one in the group speaks, before Bo pipes up and answers, “It was the name of our club when we were kids; the gym was like our clubhouse, so… look, we weren’t very creative kids, okay?”  Everyone laughs, and Bo waves you over and starts telling you some of the shenanigans the group got into when they were young.

“You really didn’t let her know what she’s stepping into, brother,” Paz says quietly so only Din hears.

Din looks at Paz with something like regret.  He’s doing a visual sweep of the room; it’s second nature to him in crowds like tonight’s, but it also serves to distract himself from the agitation of running into the Hutts.  He looks around the room and sees a few men leering at you; not just the Hutts, although Gorga is still at the bar where you left him and looking over with a sour expression, but other unsavoury types that Din is no stranger to.  Din can read the look he sees in their eyes: to folks like that, you were a mark.  Prey.  The voice in his head gets louder: You were a pretty bird and he had brought you into a den of hunters, and you didn’t even know.

Din’s so deep in his own thoughts, he doesn’t notice when a petite brunette breaks away from a group of girls hovering on the periphery of his friends and makes a beeline for you.

You’re in mid conversation with Bo, who you’re finding to be incredibly refreshing and interesting being a female body builder when you turn to put your empty glass down; however, turning back, you find a girl you haven’t met has wedged herself between you and Bo while you were faced away.  The look on Bo’s face indicates she’s just as surprised you are.

“So you’re Din’s date.”  This is stated more like a fact than a question.

“I guess I am,” you introduce yourself; the girl says her name is Vanessa and she’s giving you a smile but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, so you honestly can’t tell where this conversation is going.

“You know, so many of us girls have tried to lock Din down, maybe you’ll finally be the one to do it.”

Oh.  Does Din have… groupies?  “Oh!” you give a polite laugh, “I can honestly say that locking anyone down or having anyone lock me down, has not crossed my mind.”

“A couple of us girls have had a lot of fun trying,” she tilts her head in the direction of a group of girls that are hovering close by, “Din’s a total catch.  One of the best I’ve ever had.”

Ah ha.  This is new for you.  All your life you’ve been a girl’s girl, and one thing about being a girl’s girl is to never let men be the cause for contention, but man oh man, this girl is definitely fishing hard for a reaction from you; you know what she wants, but it’s honestly not in you to give.  Instead, you look at her with a sympathetic expression, “Oh I don’t doubt it.  Din’s probably one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”  It’s the truth and the best you can offer her.

She looks at you with disbelief before scampering off; Bo stifles a laugh before the two of you return to your conversation.

Din is starting to feel like he’s been away from you too long; then he knows he’s been away from you too long when Bo comes by and tells him about your little interlude with Vanessa.  He immediately finds you; slipping his arms around you from behind, Din nuzzles your neck and murmurs, “Sorry, I’ve been neglectful, baby.  Not leaving your side for the rest of the night, I promise.”

You turn in his arms and winding your arms around his waist, you happily press your mouth to his, “Don’t worry.  I’ve been thoroughly entertained.  I’ve been learning soooooooo much about you, Din.”  Your eyes are twinkling. 

Din should have known that you wouldn’t let Vanessa bother you; although he still feels like he has to address it.  He presses his forehead to yours, “So… I heard you had a visitor.”

“Oh right. Vanessa,” you chuckle.

“Pretty bird, there’s nothing going on, I promise.”

You give Din a quick, reassuring kiss, “Oh, I know.  I wasn’t bothered by what she said.”

“…but you were bothered?” Din pulls away to look at you, as if checking you over to make sure you were alright.

You tuck yourself under his chin and sigh, “It’s nothing really.  Just... surprising? It’s been a really long time since someone, never mind someone I don’t even know, has gone out of their way to be intentionally mean to me.”

Din feels his chest constrict.  Of course you would be perceptive enough to recognize casual cruelty when you saw it, and of course it would wound your tender heart, “I’m sorry, pretty bird.  You don’t deserve that.”

You burrow deeper into his arms, “Thank you.”

“I still want to make sure you know, there isn’t anyone else. Only you, baby.”

“Okay,” you lift your face to his and invite him to kiss you.  He melts into your lips, but can’t ignore the persistent voice in his head that’s only gotten louder over the course of the evening anymore.

---

In the cab on the way home, Din is quiet.  You snuggle extra close to him and when he tightens his arm around you, you nuzzle your way into your nook and press light kisses to his neck.

Din looks down at you and his heart breaks a little at the sweet look you give him; he can’t help himself, and he kisses you, soft and long – he knows he shouldn’t with what he’s about to do, but he also knows this could very well be his last chance to kiss you and he can’t convince himself to pass it up. 

He wonders how it could end like this – when he first saw you this evening, gorgeous and sexy as hell, teasing him with a peek at your black lace lingerie, he was sure tonight was the night he was finally going to take you upstairs and ruin you, not the night he was going to walk away. 

But he had made up his mind before leaving the bar.  Paz was right, you were too sweet for his world.  Din had been busy trying to make sure that he deserved you, he hadn’t thought about if you deserved what he would bring into your life.  You didn’t; you didn’t deserve to be on the periphery of violence, never knowing if it would touch you directly, you didn’t deserve to be in the company of lowlifes and scumbags that would take advantage of your kindness, and you certainly did not deserve to be the recipient of any nastiness simply for caring about him.  How could he bring this kind of darkness into your life?

You’ve been the best thing to happen to him in a long time, and Din’s heart aches knowing these are some of the last moments he will get to spend with you.  But when, out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of the same shirt that was so inviting to him earlier with blood splatter that looks almost black in the night, it hardens his resolve. 

You sigh deeply into the kisses, only breaking away and opening your eyes when the cab starts to slow down.  Din pays for the cab and helps you out; as soon as he closes the door of the car and it drives away, you make to walk into the building.  Tugging on his hand, you playfully ask, “Did you want to come up and get Al with me, or are you still pretending you don’t want to come up?”  To your surprise, Din doesn’t budge from his spot on the sidewalk and drops your hand.  He stuffs both hands in his pockets and can’t quite look at you when he says, “I don’t think I can come up.” You’re about to make a silly joke about it being the third date, when he continues, “…and I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

At first, you’re not sure you heard him correctly but then you see Din's face; while not quite facing you directly, you can see it looks downtrodden and tired, and you realize he's being serious.  You forget how to breathe for a moment and you don’t know what to say. Didn’t you just have a fun night, full of promise? Hadn’t he kissed you the entire cab ride over? Weren’t the last two weeks of getting to know each other romantic and deliciously tension filled? You’re confused and you say the first ridiculous thing that comes to mind, “You don’t… want to... court me anymore?”

Din didn’t think his heart could hurt anymore, but the way you were looking at him, confused and upset, was proving him wrong.  He shouldn’t have kissed you in the cab.  It had been selfish.  He knows he's been so selfish when it came to you, and that stops now. Din struggles to get the words out, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, tonight… I shouldn’t have taken you to the fight tonight.  You don’t belong in a place like that.  You showed up in a beautiful outfit and… fuck.” He’s getting flustered now, but he forces himself to press on, “…it’s ruined.” He gestures to the blood splatter on your shirt and hangs his head.

“It’s just a little blood, Din.  It will come out. Nothing has been ruined, I promise,” you can see he’s distressed and you want to comfort him.  You try making a little joke to lighten the mood, “I mean, I know you know a good dry cleaner.”

“It’s not right.  It never should have happened!  A girl like you doesn’t belong near any place like that.”

Oh.  You only now come to the realization that perhaps you hadn’t been paying attention and Din didn’t have fun tonight.  The date had been on his “turf”, so to speak, and around people he’s known a lot longer than he’s known you; maybe Din had had certain expectations on how the evening was supposed to go... expectations that you apparently didn’t meet. “Din, for the record… I had a lot of fun tonight.  I didn’t realize I wasn’t fitting in; I’m sorry if the evening didn’t go the way you had wanted.”  Now it’s you that can’t meet his eye.

“No, no, it’s not… it’s… fine.  It was just clear to me tonight that we come from different worlds and… maybe it’s not a good fit.  I’m sorry.”

You’re trying to swallow your feelings but they’re getting caught in your throat; you force yourself to say, “You don’t have to apologize.  I thought… well… it doesn’t matter what I thought. But it was only our third date, Din – you’re entitled to feel that I’m not for you.” You’re trying so hard to appear calm and neutral despite your heart breaking, that you miss Din wincing at those words. “I guess I want to say that I’m still glad we met, Din. And, thank you.  Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me these past few weeks – all the food when I worked late, helping me walk the dog… the books. Really, thank you.” You pause, shrug a little, then hold onto your arms, trying to make yourself as small as you feel while delaying the next words for as long as you can, “Goodbye.”

Din nods, “Goodbye.”

You walk away, finally free to cry when you realize that you still have to walk the dog.  Even though your tears are already spilling over, you turn around, “Din?” He’s still standing where he was, having not moved, but looks up when you call his name.  Once you have Din’s attention, you look away; you can’t bear to see the expression on his face as he watches you cry.  “I’m going to take Al for a walk. I’ll be back down in just a minute.” Your voice starts to break, “Is it okay if you’re not here when I do?”

“Of course.” Din turns and walks away from you.  You don’t see his own eyes have welled up before you turn to go in.

Inside, you clip the dog up and give him a lot of kisses in the elevator.  True to his word, Din is nowhere to be found when you get outside.  Al looks around, excitedly; most likely for Din.  Perhaps he can still smell him.  You kneel down and say sadly to your dog, “He’s not here, baby. Turns out he didn’t quite like us as much as we liked him.” Al licks a few tears off your cheek as if to comfort you and then trots off to start sniffing a tree.

---

Din watches you with Al from a distance away, out of sight.  He knew you were upset and he wanted to make sure you were safe, being out alone with your dog.  But if he was being honest, it was a perfectly safe neighbourhood – he just simply wanted to look at you for as long as he could.  He stays looking up at your apartment long after you’ve gone in, leaving only when your lights go out.

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