and he was just like a great dark wing

She relents. Relaxes. Gives in— where Dread has been given an inch he takes a mile. There’s still a hard, possessive edge to the way he touches her. The way he kisses her too, a man starving. A man possessed.

Deluge asks him to prove it, and he will. Nothing says devotion like fucking on the floor of a long abandoned church. Dread is a man possessed, and his only regret is maintaining his manners for this long. All of his head overtaken in the best way. In the worst way. Everyone always knew they’d be a match made in hell.

& fade