#(she was terrified of falling in love & being in a relationship & shit after seeing what it did to her father when he lost her mother)

[lessycusee]

also also while i’m here on this blog & talking abt abby & it’s her birthday, i need to say the bolter from ttpd is very very lowkey abby coded, i could make a whole analysis but it’s so especially younger abby who is known for breaking hearts, won’t stay with anyone for long, sleeps around a lot & shit. like it’s sooo abby -

[jin0]

TENNIS SUCKS AND SO DO YOU [Tashi Duncan, Patrick Zweig, Art Donaldson]

Summary : You were better off without them, you said for a decade despite seeing them every fucking where, all the fucking time. You were better than them, you said as you did the same shit they did and enjoyed it all the same.

Pairing : Art Donaldson x Patrick Zweig x Tashi Duncan x Reader, Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig, Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan, Patrick Zweig x Art Donaldson

Warning : +18, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !, angst, canon injury, canon conniving, cheating, manipulation, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, tennis mentioned, rude language, cussing, foursome kinda, slight ball worship, pussy worship, vaginal sex (p in v), sadness, rehab mentioned, homelessness, gaslighting, genuinely everyone sucks here, no one is mentally stable and should be trusted.

A/N : enjoy

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As it had turned out, it had been way easier for you to admit the sick pleasure you got out of witnessing the downfall of the people you had loved for so long. Being easy to admit did not make it any less painful if you were being honest. Loving them the way you did, the way only you could since your college days made the situation just as sad as it had been cathartic.

You witnessed from the sidelines how Patrick, Tashi and Art’s old ways returned even after eleven years to tear them apart the way it had initially years prior. You still remembered how you used to be, it wasn’t hard they hadn’t changed a bit. Not even the way they looked at each other.

Outsiders would speculate on the nature of the relationship which had sparked fire in the media, two old best friends meeting again at a random challenger while one’s ‘wife’ cheered louder than she had ever been seen cheering. Some would assume the worst out of Tashi while some would pity her for being the stand in to Art’s internalized homophobia. Maybe other’s would hit the nail right on the head and guess that the three might share deep feelings for each other but the would never go further in the guesses, ironically respectful of the privacy of the three people the would spend weeks speculating on, expecting some form of answer at some point.

In the midst if all of this, you would remain. Alone but never lonely, alone and changed for the better while they simmered in their own toxicity, pulling at each other’s strings to bring the worst out of each other in hopes to come out on top, come out the best at the game of honesty they played in a pathetic attempt at convincing the others that they were the ones to say the truth the two others refused to admit to, while simultaneously keeping a lifetime’s worth of secrets.

You would remain, forever in love with them, enough to leave without a goodbye or a look back while they grew like trees in soiled dirt, intertwined but resentful of one another.

You hadn’t been able to watch the end of the match, content with watching Patrick and Art hug for the first time in about a decade. It was funny to you, really. How they had managed to part for so long when Patrick had loved Art first, loved him the way you had loved Tashi first. You all ended up falling in love, you with Art next. Patrick was a little more difficult to like. He was a cunt. And truth be told, so were you. But in their psyche, you lived as kindness personified, because at the root, you were what they aspired to reach when claiming a false sense of honesty.

You were the good ripped out of them by a forceful departure they could not have done a thing about.

You were kind and overly intelligent, academically and emotionally, doubled with a talent that made you all the more terrifying. To understand you was a struggle because all you said could be taken as exactly what it was. In the world of pompous etiquette and manners, you lived above and below it all. Born in a lower class family, you never feared to admit that your goal had always been to climb you way up until you reached what you wanted to reach. It was unclear to you and to them for a while so coaxing it out of you was useless, you didn’t know much about what you wanted, or at least, verbalizing it would be difficult. You aimed to climb, all on your own, through your own power and possibilities. Fucking Tashi Duncan was just for fun.

She wasn’t meant to be a tool in your machine, and frankly, she would’ve been a useless one too, you weren’t a tennis player. Maybe that was what had made your deep friendship so difficult to understand. People speculated that you used her for her money and status, which would make sense if your natural predator wasn’t a tennis racket and a ball. You just couldn’t play tennis for shit. And at first she would call you an idiot for trying when you clearly sucked. A friendship had blossomed when you had responded by successfully hitting a ball right past her head. You sucked at tennis but you had great aim it seemed.

You had reached Stanford on a scholarship, and artistic scholarship funded by a bunch of wealthy families, counting the Zweig and Donaldson families. You danced ballet initially but the possibilities had evolved so you did more than ballet or than dancing. It didn’t really matter honestly why you were at Stanford, the point is that you were there with them and sometimes only for them.

Again, it had started with Tashi, simple stuff really, hugs here and there turning into hugs everywhere. And hand holding which had also turned into waist holding. And the sleepovers were you started from standing at opposite sides of the room to sitting on each other and sleeping with each other in the same bed. Everything just kept escalating. Came a time were it was normal for you both to be showering together or to kiss each other’s cheeks in public. You were best friends with a little bit more on the side.

The speculation were inevitable really, but then came Patrick and Art. Things had been complicated to explain or understand but it did make sense to you four at least.

The night she had been invited to their hotel room, they hadn’t expected her to bring a friend. You didn’t really understand what she had wanted to prove, if she had wanted to prove anything at all but you knew that you didn’t really mind. A public would never bother you.

You had always been pretty obedient to her words, even more when she had her fingers inside you. When she had called you to sit on her lap while they sat on the floor, you had obeyed, climbing on top of her and zipping down your compressor shirt. You could feel their eyes on you, burning through your skin in hopes to see your breast the way Tashi could. When you two had started to make out, you wanted to laugh, hearing Art’s little gasp loud and clear. He was way easier to get worked up than Patrick. But Patrick was a slut so it made sense.

You had stopped her, pulling away with your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you attempted to regain your composure before pointing at them.

“Shouldn’t they be participating ?” You had said, amusing Tashi who patted the space next to her for you to sit. Again, you obeyed but kept a hand between her thighs while she kissed your forehead. Art and Patrick had stared at each other before Patrick rushed to sit next to you and Art next to her.

The rest was history. A long, tedious and sometimes painful history which at started really, the moment Art asked you out. You expected him to go to Tashi, and he had before asking the two of you. It was easy to love Art, the same as you loved your girl. Patrick though, it had been lust for a long time, a very long time before you accepted that he loved you and that you loved him too. You two couldn’t stop taking shots at one another you at his pathetic love for Art and him at you for being poor. Those were easy and no amount of venom in your voices could ever male you say words you didn’t mean. He was bitter at you for having Art and you at him for having Tashi, you were the same really but you would always say you had bigger balls that him because at least you unequivocally had both in all senses while he struggled to even have one.

You remembered how in a drunken admission he confessed hating you for being the romantic failure to his success, something he couldn’t bear knowing that he wanted to fuck you with all the love and adoration you ignited in his soul. He was glad to have his wish granted, waking up the next morning with you on top of him, sleeping soundly, more silent than you had ever been in your life with him around.

Then began the greatest love story never told, fueled by unyielding passion and love that transcended. Maybe the end could’ve been predicted. You loved too much with too much honesty for three people who convinced themselves that tennis was their only true love. You were okay with that, you knew it was a cover-up, a protection from the unpredictability of human feelings and relationships. You didn’t feel like covering up anything, not when you simply loved.

To you it made sense, to them it was a little more difficult, and the difficulty kept increasing slowly as everything rapidly turned to shit. One day it was all four of you, the next, Art didn’t love you anymore, not enough to share Tashi but enough to still crave your very existence like air. He was done sharing with Patrick too, something about having to admit to himself that he did love the man more than a best friend didn’t work in his mind.

They had all began getting into each other’s minds planting seeds of jealousy and doubt in a vicious cycle where they all made each other worst than worst itself. Then Tashi got hurt, and Patrick wasn’t there but Art was so she blamed the brunette while the blond rejoiced as he finally reached the sense of normalcy he had craved through monogamy. And where were you in all of this ? Left behind. You didn’t play tennis but you loved them so you thought it would be enough, it wasn’t. You couldn’t understand, they said. Tashi would never play like she used to or as she was destined to ever. And since Art was there, he would be the talent that prevailed and lived. Patrick, he couldn’t care less about you when he was loosing the two people who really mattered to him.

You had been disposed of in a matter of weeks, a useless, bothersome artefact found in the dirt and throw back in the dirt when you had stopped being fun. You would’ve never understood what it felt like to lose the very thing that one thought of when thinking of Love, yet you could’ve tried, you would’ve tried for them, for her.

Patrick was the first who should’ve gone, almost forcefully thrown out of the apartment you had all started sharing, ironically owned by his family. He lost the home of his heart and chose to give away his house too. But Patrick being Patrick, he refused to leave, stubborn and smug, he opted to stay and keep trying. He knew tennis and Tashi’s love for tennis. He had felt that love for a certain blond boy he had lost too.

With his stay, he formed a side, his own, while Tashi and Art formed another. They fought, regularly, everyday almost, about the same things and a multitude of little other things that they had never voiced prior to the incident. Because they were too ‘kind’ to speak up, but mean enough to use it as ammunition in petty arguments.

They fought about almost anything frankly and you, you disappeared, left off in the background, dissipating like sand, washed away by the sea and forgotten. You didn’t need to get involved they said. Yet you did, because you loved all three and maybe it was selfish but you still held onto the hope that they loved you too, enough to support you in your own moments.

But that was before the Patrick you had learned to love forced you with the brutal reality of things.

You fell. During a rehearsal, you fell, badly enough to hurt you foot and possibly for a little while. It wasn’t broken nor was it permanently damaged, you would heal quickly, you just had to be taken to the hospital to be given the necessary information on how to recover. You would also need to be taken home, you physically couldn’t walk. You called and called and called, calling about a hundred times with no answer from any of them. You ended up staying at the hospital for two days before deciding that you didn’t want to stay more so you left, on foot, which you shouldn’t have done. You had crutches, you thought, so this would be fine. It was at the end, your foot was fine, your soul though, not so much.

After two days in the hospital, you had returned home to another fight between the three. You were tired so you stayed silent until they took notice of you, standing there in silence. Weirdly enough, that seemed to aggravate them further, leading to sighs of anger and looks of disgust, as if you were the cause of all of this, all their issues and frankly all the issues in the world. Unused the first and last fight you were apart of.

It was about you not being there, you always running when things got hard for Tashi, running away because you couldn’t be the center of attention anymore when Tashi would be the priority. You didn’t really process much if what was thrown your way, too busy trying to defend yourself in vain. It didn’t matter really, whatever you said, it wouldn’t matter not when for the first time in weeks both Fire and Ice agreed on something while Tashi looked at you with the kind of hatred you’d never seen in her eyes before. All three finally agreed on something and it seemed it was on how much they couldn’t stand you.

“It’s fucking pathetic how low you’d go to feel like you matter to us. Let me make this abundantly clear, your presence here is only because of Tashi. The interest we have in you is only because of Tashi. Any amount of interest we have in you is because of Tashi. You don’t even matter to yourself outside of her.” How said Patrick bitterly. He looked disgusted by the very sight of you and his words translated about just as much venom as his gaze.

He walked up to you, still standing at the same spot you had been in since you had entered the room to walk in on them fighting once again. You hadn’t moved and now you were paralyzed by humiliation, as if even breathing would be a stain on their glory. You were going through it again in a matter of seconds. Years of improvement on your self worth all going down the drain because of three people.

You watched him with teary eyes as he stepped up to you, entering your personal space so that you could see properly how much he meant his next words.

“We barely tolerate you without tennis, but how much do you think we’d like you if Tashi hadn’t pulled you in like a necessary condition for her presence around ?”

You said still, to ashamed to cry or to breath, almost heaving from the ball of air stuck in your throat. You said as stoic as you could all while keeping your tears at bay. He chuckled while staring at you, false amusement to hide how annoyed he was with your presence here. You tried to look towards Art, who looked away, face indifferent as he silently agreed to his ex best friend’s words while your own best friend stared blankly at you then at your foot before getting up and leaving.

You weren’t one to stay where you weren’t wanted, so when they left to chase after Tashi, you took that as an opportunity to pack your stuff and leave. All that was left behind were the stuff you wouldn’t outwardly need or could ask a friend, if you had any left, to help you get.

In that moment you felt your luckiest despite the circumstances, your lack of relationship to tennis making it easy to rely on someone who wouldn’t be asking thousands of questions on why you were now excluded from the little group who’d been ruling the minds and hearts of about every student on campus. For the rest of the semester, you moved in with a friend from your dance studio, friend who quickly became your greatest form of support, pushing you to get back up and become the best dancer you’d ever been.

For the first time, you felt what Tashi meant when she said tennis would be her greatest love, you understood her drive to not just be a player among the lot but the player who stood above the masses effortlessly yet with lots of efforts. The rumors quickly spread, your separation from the group raising questions that you were too busy to answer, spending about every second of every hour dancing and improving your artistic skill while slowly letting the three people you had loved turn into distant figures in your rearview mirror.

The longing glances in the lecture halls and silent please turned into quick looks in their direction, acknowledging their presences before going back to what you were doing, before soon, watching it turn into nothing. You stopped looking, feeling their eyes on your before shutting down the instinct which you had lead to you them in crowds of thousands so many times before. Before you knew it, you brushed passed them, your scent burning through their being like the softest of caress and the sharpest of slaps while you simply didn’t notice them. You had stopped trying to ignore them and made them presence part lf everyone, barely noticeable.

Your dancing got better, just like your heart and your other talent. You divested into other areas of artistic expression, soon stepping out of Stanford to be known all over the world for your incredible voice and the amazing performances that went with it. You filled concert halls like one would fill their lungs with air and sold albums like no other. Your passion and devotion for your craft quickly became known all over the world, impossible to miss as your face appeared on Billboards and your voice resonated through radios. You got busy with like and you weren’t the only one.

You knew about Tashi and Art’s wedding, catching wind of it from friends you had made in college. It didn’t surprise you much, she could handle Art better. What had surprised you was for Fire to Part from Ice and vice versa, both disappearing from each other’s life. It wasn’t news that neither really deeply like to share, ironic considering the circumstances. You had found out about their daughter too, Lily, cute name. Art had probably picked it. Tashi would’ve named her ‘Tennis Donaldson’ if she could. Tennis Duncan even. She loved tennis too much, it had started to exasperate you, but inly slightly. You understood. You lived dancing just the same. Just healthily. You could see through the mist, watching her live vicariously through her darling husband he played for her. He lost the passion he had for the sport, but he had lost more.

You didn’t know what had happened to Patrick, or at least you feigned ignorance. You didn’t give a fuck about that little bitch. But watching him die wouldn’t be fun. You knew about the heroin addiction and about the alcoholism. It was known before during college and it had stopped briefly while you dated, keeping only the smoking. He had drifted from them, too busy getting fucked up on whatever he could get his sticky fingers on while fucking whoever he could get to give him shelter for the night. Being a crackhead was expensive and even Patrick Zweig couldn’t afford it, it seemed. You knew he lived in his car and tried to revive his dead tennis career every chance he got. He was embarrassing to be frank, but you couldn’t turn your back on him when you knew he could pick up a handgun any day and write your name in big bold letters out of spite for the amount of time he called and you refused to answer before choosing to block his number. The junky ex boyfriend trope was getting tired and the sex was good back in the days but never enough to entertain his mess of a life. And to be frank, you had grown to be just as spiteful and petty as they were, the wound of the past still fresh in your heart despite the decade of separation.

Over the last years, you had crossed his path about five times and each time you found him in a outer body state, off on whatever he had gotten his hands on but definitely not water. Each time you crossed him, you remembered the words he had said to you, ears prior, noting the irony of how he had turned out now that he was alone. It was sad, honestly, Art had been a beacon to him, Tashi too. But both found mutual benefits in each other, Tashi getting to live through her husband while Art got to live through the fantasy that he didn’t regularly got of on his best friends cock rubbing against his.

You, you were just collateral, too easy to love yet too mysterious to understand. You were like the easiest puzzle never solved to them, an equation on love and lust all packed in one basic formula that was so easy that it felt like a trap. People relying on toxicity to feel alive sabotaged shit like that, the easy shit that wasn’t meant to be overly painful. You’d been too easy, so you could be disposed of ln on the basis of an argument where you just didn’t fit anymore when the truth is that you fit in way to easily with each without having to give anything tangible. You weren’t bringing shit to their worlds but yourself yet you were indispensable.

And being indispensable, surprisingly, wasn’t sufficient to them.

~

The first time Patrick saw you again after the separation was in the street. Which street he can’t say, he’s not even certain he saw you for real seeing as that night he was high on whatever had been sitting in his car and a 4 dollar bottle of vodka from the corner store. His car slash home wasn’t too far, less than ten steps away, yet he couldn’t reach it. First he couldn’t fucking find his keys and on top of that, he had felt in a cheery mood, deciding to down half the bottle right outside the store. He was in a mood to celebrate, the news of Tashi and Art’s divorce plaguing his mind like the sweetest of highs.

In his sick mind, the man still lived the fantasy that he and Art were the same or that they could be, true rivals from the same place, both drastically changed by their circumstances but still and forever Fire and Ice. He wanted to believe that well in his thirties he still had a shot. He could still do this, get to reach the same level of stardom and face off his best friend and lover once again. He was insane, and slightly pathetic like that but the news made the possibility even greater in his mind.

Tashi and Art had been a unit of destruction he could’ve never truly beat, not on his own, yet he still dreamt and rightfully so. Because now, both members of the unit were parting ways and what better way to conquer than to divide ? She had done it, years prior, Art fully participating despite his seemingly innocent demeanor.

In the midst of his celebration, he had, once again, forgotten to exercise restraint and had drunken enough to stumble into an alley all alone, falling face first in a puddle of water. In his inebriated state, even felt the weight of his exhaustion, weirdly falling down all at once on his shoulders.

He was so out of it, he hadn’t noticed your figure almost floating towards his body before seeing you crouched down next to him. You started at him just like he did you, both quiet for a second before he cut the silence with a chuckle, you, on the other hand were less than amused, stoic and silent face dark as you watched him, probably gloating to see him in such a state.

“Are you real ?” Was all he had said, waiting for a response which had never came.

It was almost vicious how he could barely make out the walls around him yet could perfectly distinguish the features of your face. It hadn’t changed, fuck you were so pretty.

The rest was a blur of soft touches and movements he could understand. All he knew was that you had spoken to him, telling him to not drink and to cut the heroin. He had nodded, obedient and shameful as a result of his words from the past.

When he had woken up the next day, he was surprised to be in a bed, comfy and warm covers. Parts of him dreamt it was her house. It wasn’t. It wouldn’t never be, not if she had a say on it at least.

You had driven him to rehab, leaving without a word or a note for him to understand. He didn’t know much other than the fact that you had paid for him to stay there for six months and then maybe he could leave. You had even paid more to make sure that the establishment accepted him despite her not being a relative or anything like that. Top quality facility that would have him bust his ass off trying to get clean, and not just off the drugs but also the alcohol.

He didn’t know anything, he just felt like it was you who had been the generous donator to pay for him to get clean. The lady at the front desks and the doctor in charge of him were only told one thing that had a seemingly smug but actually hopeful grin stretching his lips.

“I don’t want anything really, it’s more for him. Maybe, if he gets better in his head, he’ll actually get to be good at tennis again.”

It was mean, you were mean, mostly to him. But he knew better. You both had a habit of disagreeing so whenever he’d shit on himself, you’d join him and suddenly he was bathed in the confidence of the universe. Ironically, it never worked the other way around.

He stayed, all six months though, per the doctors and therapist, he wouldn’t need to. He could’ve left after the forth month. They had a tennis court to help him work a bit so he chose to stay. Even made friends. But he stayed, the whole time. Out of respect for you in some ways but also because he wanted to see how well he’d do. If he could really stick it out for the whole six months and then more. He did, and he would’ve loved to tell you, but that didn’t happen.

~

The next you saw was Art. If “seeing” was an appropriate term to use in this situation. After retiring, the man couldn’t find it in himself to ever really leave the tennis world, even after he and Tashi had divorced. He was still fully ingrained in the tennis world like the champion who would’ve lost it all, should’ve lost it all. His career been over if he had lost to Patrick that day. It would’ve destroyed him, you knew that. You didn’t need to be there to know, you always could read him. You could read all three down to the nastiest of details they were dirty rotten books passing fungus and parasites to everything they touched.

Art was the prettiest of parasites, seemingly clean and well behaved, but he fucked like a man starved for pussy, real pussy, raw and without conditions or expectations. You knew he hadn’t changed a bit when you saw him at an even for Uniqlo. Your career also had you around these circles and you like these events the best, with big brands but really niche, making it easy to not be overwhelmed as soon as you stepped in the room.

You’d been the center of attention the moment you entered and he was quick to catch you, you both engaging in a stare off that had lasted for about three seconds to you maybe, a lifetime to him. You couldn’t be here, not really, how could you ? He had dreamt of you, screamed your name and moaned it while balls deep in his wife. Ex wife. She’d moan your name too, it was pathetic, both were. He had pleaded the universe for you and yet nothing, but here you were, the one night he wasn’t thinking of you somehow. There you were, ever so beautiful and breathtaking. Like a ghost grappling at his brain.

It was pathetic, to not see you for a decade and yet to have his heart beat out of his chest as soon as he saw you and his cock springing to life like never before when you turned around, allowing him to gawk at the curve of your spine, from your nape to your ass. He was screwed.

For the rest of the night you both engaged in a cat and mouse game, him the cat and you the mouse, but here, you weren’t running from him. You were disappearing into the crowd as soon as he was freed from whatever pointless discussion was taking his time from you.

Then came the end of the night and Art was frantic, aimlessly searching for you, terrified like never before to miss you and this time lose you forever. He could reach you, he could go to one of your concerts and press tour for one of your movies. He could do that, but Art had always been somewhat of a pussy. Enjoying his position off in the shadow while the rest of the world took actions and spoke on their feelings.

That day, he took action, forgetting any sense of pride and decorum when he grabbed you by the jaw and pushed you into the elevator, hands reaching under your dress to hike your legs up around his waist. The elevator had barely opened, luckily leading directly into the suite he had been offered that he and his eager hands dragged your docile body to the nearest flat surface. When he had reached the dinner table, he had laid you up on it, so delicately, as if you were a figment of his imagination, potentially disturbed by any rough movement.

He was almost panicking, fiddling with your dress, torn between savoring the moment and your presence or making you feel the weight of your absence. He chose the later, ripping through the fabric of the expensive dress while you whined at the loss of such a beautiful piece to add to your collection.

You liked clothes, you always did and your mewls of pleasure mixed with the sound of your discontentment at the loss of your new favorite dress had him tensing in his pants, balls tight and full of love and memories from how happy and grateful you used to be when he gave you a present.

His lips dragged along the tense vein in your neck, occasionally biting down on your flesh to mark you in the most visible way possible. If you were to disappear again, you’d be marked, sworn as off limits to anyone else. You’d be his to worship.

You had matched his eagerness, sliding slander manicured fingers into his pants and boxers to stoke his cock, mouth watering at the idea lf having him in you again, girth taking up all the space in her throat and rutting into her hole desperately for even more.

You did, have him fuck your throat. Your saliva coating his balls shamelessly while you choked, almost suffocating on him but whining like the desperate girl you were whenever he even thought of pulling out. He had let you have your fun on him, nasty words to match the nasty rhythm of his hips slamming into your mouth. Plop. Plop. Plop, resonating into the room while he drilled his long cock into you with vigor. He had cum once, in your throat, only one, holding your face still as he pushed the tip of your nose into his nicely trimmed pubic hair. You inhaled his scent, eyes crossing in pleasure while you came untouched. What a good girl you’d always been, cumming at the idea of having him lay his semen in your throat.

He pulled out, holding your jaw still while admiring your fucked out face before kissing your cheeks tenderly like he always did to bring you back. You were easy to overwhelm so making you dumb on pleasure came easy too. But Art was a hard working man and he would never stop at that.

“Already so dumb for me…” He had muttered into your skin, lips dragging across your cheeks, jaw and chest, to finally reach your leaking mound. It was his turn to inhale your scent, mind hazy with pleasure and completely taken by you. No amount of thinking ever mattered, you mattered, all of you. Art had found an altar within the confine of your folds, ready to worship it like he had been deprived off for years.

His tongue had lapped at your juices for hours, pussy drunk after the first orgasm he had pulled out of you and ready to sink into his addiction. His messy tongue hadn’t left you since he had started, essentially hours ago, swallowing your taste, drinking in your pleasure and praying for more. He sucked on your clit messily, movements becoming just as erratic as he was. He wanted more of you, more of this, he needed to live in your skin forever. You were so warm and felt so good and he loved you and he had missed you so fucking much and this was too much, ruining him from the inside and melting him into a puddle of arousal and unexpressed love. He was made to love you and you weren’t there, you had left and he needed to love you now and forever.

“P-Please… Baby please…” He kept starting, to dumb on your pussy to be able to finish his sentence. But finish, that he did. Cumming untouched himself, cock rubbed raw against the fabric of the covers, a wet patch under him, marking the spot he’d been soaking with his pour sensitive cock for hours. He was twitching like never before, moans exiting his mouth because of the air touching his sensitive tip, so red it looked like a popsicle. Lucky him you couldn’t see, or you’d swallow him whole until he was to cum without anything coming out.

For now he rejoiced in the pleasure of having you in this bed, shaking nonstop and coherent words and phrases erases from your vocabulary by his desperate acts on your now swollen cunt. His hands had been gripping on your hips, holding you firmly and relying on your ass cheeks for more grip when his attacks on you became too much and you would attempt to squirm away. You were now but a body, a doll, aimlessly moved by him will. His tongue went deep inside you, so, so deep, almost grazing your most sensitive point but still preparing your walls for his raw dick and the abuse it would lay on your eager pussy. He moved your body back and forth, having you rut your hips into his face. His blue eyes, clouded by pleasure and insanity looked up, faced by your breasts bouncing while you cried and cried, the pleasure too much. He freed one of your ass cheeks to reach a large hand over your tits, grabbing it roughly and toying with your nipple while he sucked on your clit. He had heard the sound of the sheets ripping and wanted to be the next one to be torn into.

He was too much, to passionate on you, slurping and slobbering on your weeping cunt as if it was his last meal. He was entranced by you, feasting on you with all the fervor he had missed out on showing you. As he lapped away, you jerked particularly harshly, too sensitive to handle much more. Your fingers tried to pull him away from you, hair tightly gripped in your hands but he was quick to fight back, sending you a glare before going back to you.

In one desperate motion, strength fueled by your impending orgasm and his own, hip humping the air as his large cock stood tall beads of cum leaking in large drops out of his tip, he flipped you over, you on top of him, seating on his face while he laid under you. The weight of your ass on his chin and your cunt smashed against his face, he could die happy again. His hands found your ass again while yours grabbed onto his growing blond locks and the other holding onto the headboard. You road his tongue like never before, smearing your cum on his face while you cried for your release.

“A-Art ! Fuck, Art, baby ! S-So good !” was all you could say at the moment, the rest, incomprehensible cries of pleasure and babbling that signified how far gone you were.

Art watched your tits bounce again, saliva dripping out of the corner of his mouth and all over your center as he dreamt of sucking your nipples until the were swollen and sensitive. He made love to your cunt, moaning inside you like he could do so well, grunts and whines of pleasure going heard by the entire floor if his suit wasn’t the only one here. His own eyes filled with tears, balls releasing cum all over his stomach and your back.

You gripped his hair like a rope you held onto at the risk of falling. He admired with desperation and passion, your head thrown back in pleasure as you finally came, crying out his name while drenching his face in your cream. You could barely catch your breath that he had thrown you off of him and onto the mattress. He stood between your legs for a minute, staring.

That was the clearest memory you had of that night, other than the week long ache between your legs and the pulsating of your clit at the sound of his name. You, on the other hand, were etched into his mind like a picture carved in stone to be remembered forever. Everything he looked was a reminder of you, even his daughter, Lily, a great enjoyer of your movies, one where you had played a princess destined to save her kingdom. Ironic how both he and his daughter saw you the same, the princess and the savior.

He marked you into his mind, your hair splayed onto the bed, eyes lidded with pleasure, mouth parted as you stared at his cock. Every piece of you he memorized. In every position too. And, intertwined amongst the sounds of pleasure exiting his throat, muffled by his mouth almost fused to a piece of your skin, pressed to your cheek or to your forehead in one of the most intimate acts he had performed in the last five years, he cried out for you. Desperately crying out your and the anger he had suppressed towards you. Anger or sadness, sorrow so deep it almost felt like grief. His movement became harsher, almost mean but so full of love too. He loved you so much, present tense, he hadn’t stopped ever. He was still angry at you for leaving though, so he told you in a mix of incoherent and inaudible words all mushed together, he voiced his feelings for how you had abandoned him, left him heartbroken, grieving in silence.

“H-How…How could you d-do this to me, huh ?” He’d say angrily, before pleading. “I love you… F-Fuck… I l-love you… Please… I love you…”

Drilling his raw dick inside you felt like life itself, your walls tightly holding him in while he kissed your thoughts away. Open mouth kisses, all tongue and teeth, this was life, made and in the making. He was making life with you that night, creating like he had never before. When you rode his cock, balls slapping against your ass while his lips latched onto your breasts to suck on them, that was life. When you’d been thrown on all fours, taking the nastiest backshots known to man, pussy molded to take him and only him in, that was life. When he laid you on your side, one leg raised up by his muscly arm as you took another load of his cum from the back, that was life. When he fucked you with your thighs pressed to your chest and ankles around his head, his swollen lips kissing you tenderly in contrast with the force of his hips slamming into you, that was life.

Life hadn’t stopped until sunrise, where you had both fallen asleep, you taking in his ‘I love yous’ and your tongue tied with pleasure, the kind you hadn’t felt in decades, to speak up. With each new position came more cum and more words from him, poor Art, fucked dumb by his sweet girl that had finally returned. Years of guilt and love unexpressed had finally been told in loud moans and babbling about how much he loved you and was sorry.

It didn’t matter.

You had both fallen asleep with his cock nestled inside you, sheets tossed to the floor and arms holding your body close. He slept with his face nuzzling into your hair, a scent of vanilla and citrus he had missed like a man lost in the desert missed water. Your fingers held onto his forearm with your back pressed to his chest. You were both molded against one another, peaceful and quiet.

Reality hit the next morning, when he woke up to you getting dressed. You weren’t in a hurry but you weren’t staying, he couldn’t let you leave though.

He was quick to leap out of bed and in front of you, hands holding your cheeks to force you to look into his eyes.

“Please… Look at me, please baby…” He had begged, your empty eyes finding him. “Stay. Stay and let me apologize, make up for what I did-“

“You didn’t do anything Art.” You cut him off, swatting his hands away and going back to the pieces of your dress. “And there is nothing to make up for. You wanted Tashi, I can’t fault you. The sex was good, let’s stop there.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, desperation evident as he tried to hold you in his shaky hands.

He followed you around the bedroom and out of it when you were done, running after you while almost sobbing before dropping to his knees in front of you. You sighed, exhausted by the exchange while he sacrificed his dignity once again, for someone but never himself.

“Please baby, stay with me. Please, I love you.” He was erratic, breathing quickening while you looked around.

“Art…” Your eyes dropped to him, staring into his beautiful blue eyes and holding his face tenderly. “You don’t love me. You’re bored and you love having me in bed, that’s it.” You tried to walk away but he crawled after you, holding onto your leg desperately.

“No !” he exclaimed. “Don’t dismiss me or my feelings, please. I love you, with everything I have-“

“Ironically after Tashi left, thought.”

“I’m a fucking coward, fine ! But I can’t lose you again, not like this !” He was scared, that morning, truly. Even more than when Tashi announced she wanted a divorce.

“You don’t lose someone you don’t have. You can’t have someone you don’t want.”

“Fuck you ! I want you, I need you, baby, please !” He needed to know that you’d be there tomorrow and for the rest of eternity. He couldn’t lose you again, not again. “Look at me and tell me you don’t love me.”

You threw your head around, amused by his desperation and how brazen it made him sometimes. “You’re ruining this Art…”

“I can love you for the both of us if that’s the issue. I want to be yours, I want to marry you, live life with you, be everything you need from me !” He wasn’t listening, never.

Thinking back, it wouldn’t lead to anything, the pleading and all. He could see it now. Hindsight was 20/20. It would’ve been useless and even disrespectful to ask you to love him again after discarding you that way. But to get you back and lose you so quickly had killed him a little more that day. He had needed to hear it though, to understand. And understand he had.

“Art.” Your voice was firm, like a line of cement in the sand and a pause in time, freezing him and his tears in place. “I never needed you. None of you. I just wanted you, and was content with that. You were the ones who discarded me because you didn’t need me.”

He remained frozen in place, giving you the opportunity to leave, your eyes glued to his, his beautiful tearful face as he stared in silence. When the doors of the elevator closed, he collapsed, crying harder than ever before, crying like he should’ve years ago when he had found your stuff gone. He had lost you again. His pretty girl. The love of his life.

He might’ve doubted his love for Patrick or Tashi, but loving you was like breathing air. It was easy, it made sense, before and still now. And you’d been ripped out of his life forcefully. Even now, when his pride managed to supersede his love for Patrick and Tashi, nothing could come above the love he felt for you.

After that night, he had been floating aimlessly around life, drained out of life. You were somewhere, everywhere in his life, but near him and that was punishment, cruelty for choosing Tashi and ruining all four of you. He needed to see this and had refused, now he didn’t have the choice.

~

The next to see you was Tashi, or if you had to be precise, it was Lily, her daughter.

There was a park down your block, you often went there to write and skateboard. Tashi didn’t know that. She didn’t know anything. To know about you was to punish herself for about everything she had done in the recent years. Including getting married. She would never admit that though, to much pride would be sacrificed if after a decade she admitted that she missed you even after the way things had gone. It would also require for her to admit that maybe divorcing Art was not really a good idea. Not when a part of her still loved him, a part you had created, the part that accepted to love and be loved beyond tennis because love, as painful as it could be, was beautiful. Even in the most vile and painful moments.

You’d been sitting for about an hour, head thrown back as you let the spring breeze and the sound of birds communicating through the trees seep into your skin. Your week had been hectic and this was the first real moment of peace you could claim to benefit from, truly, a moment of peace where life let itself float around you while you took a pause.

Your pause, ended brutally, the sound of rushing footsteps and then a little yelp waking you up from your meditation. You opened one eye, looking down in the direction of the sound to find a little girl, laying on the floor with watery eyes and a wobbling bottom lip.

Poor thing had probably tripped. You straightened yourself, leaping off the bench to kneel in front of the little girl. She was distraught, looking around and fiddling with her skirt.

“Don’t worry, there’s not that many people, no one saw.” You’d said to reassure her.

She looked at you timidly before nodding, accepting the assessment you’d made on the situation. You didn’t know if anyone really had seen or not, but you did know that the park was essentially empty at this hour of the day.

“Hurts…” She mumbled, still looking down shyly. You wanted to chuckle, she was adorable, but she could’ve thought that you were mocking her so you refrained.

“Do you mind ?” You asked, pointing at her knee that was visibly turning a little more red by the minute. She shook her head, holding onto your shoulders so that you could lift her up and sit her on the bench. She had grazed her knee, it was bleeding. You looked up at the little girl in silence, this would probably have her panic if you told her. She looked about seven years old max and seemed used to run around freely, she hadn’t called for a parent yet. Luckily, you had everything you needed in your bag. You’d learn to carry around a first aid kit because of how easily you got hurt and out of habit. It reassured Tashi, back in the days, to know that you were okay or at least had something to take care of yourself.

You chuckled, her memory would truly haunt you until death if it could. You’d see her face in a piece on bandaid if you let yourself.

Pulling out your essentials, you pulled out a bottle of water as well as cleaning alcohol. You saw the little girl tense but quickly regain her composure.

“You’re not scared ? That hurts sometimes you know…” That wasn’t the smartest thing to say to a kid, but you said it anyways.

“I-It’s okay… Mommy says bugs could grow in my boo-boo if not cleaned. I hate bugs.”

You grinned, amused by her rationality but also by her tight grip on your shoulders. She was scared, she just knew better.

“And what does your mommy say about you running around alone in a park ?”

She didn’t respond, too focused on your face. Like she’d seen it before, and frankly, looking at her, you felt like you had seen her before. The messy curls on top of her little head and the way her nose scrunched and her eyes narrowed when you dabbed the alcohol on her knee. You wanted to pay more attention, but the memories where ghosts that had to be ignored or they would ruin your life.

“I’ve seen you before…” She said. You hummed, quietly asking for precisions. “In the TV. You were really pretty. You had a sword and all… It was cool…”

She’d seen one of your movies, for children kinda. A little bit violent in some scenes but for children technically. With a princess who wielded the sword better than any knight.

“Did you like it ? I personally did. Loved the sword fights.” You asked, softly placing the bandaid on her leg and giving her a thumbs up.

“Me too, but I have to be careful because they’re dangerou-“

“Lily ?!”

You both were interrupted by a loud voice not too far, rushing quickly towards you. The little girl hopped off the bench with a smile, running in their direction after muttering a soft “mommy”.

You would’ve loved to turn around, but presently you were too annoyed to do so, angry to not have noticed her resemblance to the man you had seen a few weeks prior and the woman you hadn’t seen in years. You exhaled, seating back on the bench and watching as the little girl chatted away, explaining how “the princess from the TV healed her knee”. You watched Tashi search around until her gaze found yours and froze.

If you’d been in her head you would’ve seen it all, the fireworks, the crashing waves of a hurricane, the tornado, the screaming lady who resembled her but simply couldn’t be, Art and her’s wedding day, the fights you found yourself at the center of and all the times she’d have sex with him thinking of you but without feeling guilty because she knew he did too. You’d see that and about a thousand other things because she was going insane at the moment while you looked almost bored to see her.

She stood up, mouth slightly parted and her eyes never really leaving yours while her hands gripped on Lily’s smaller one, like she was afraid that she would run and disappear again, like she had previously done and like you did years ago.

For someone who was paid for her advices and known in the business for how easily she could get in someone’s head through words, Tashi was struggling a great deal at words right now. She was stuck between speechless and too angry to formulate clear words.

“Mommy ?” Was what brought her back. She looked to her daughter, plastering on a fake smile to appease the worried child and caressing her hair.

“How about you go play for a little while I go say thank you to the lady, okay ?” In any other circumstances she would’ve gone home, done with the whole outdoors thing and ready to get back to work but the situation was different with you present here.

When she assessed that Lily was far enough to not hear, she stomped towards you, angry eyes burning through you. She was ready to hand you a slap worthy of movies but was stopped by your less that amused eyes matching her expression. You were politely asking her to refrain with your eyes, an expression she’d almost never been on the receiving end of.

Tashi stood there, watching you attentively, like she expected you to disappear. She took the time to observe you, take you in. Your gaze was some distant point in front of you, possibly Lily, seeing how you smiled while she laughed loudly.

You hadn’t changed much in a decade, looking as young as when you were in college. They’d all felt the mark of time as it was engraved on their features, burnt with painful precision to signify the years of conniving, lies and deceit they’d been put through by each other to maintain the illusion that they were doing better than the next. You looked fine, they didn’t.

Even she, felt like she didn’t look good, worn out by the pretense of perfection of the wife and coach who only sought to bring out the best out of her husband, make him the best. Not that he could ever really become it, not when he was so busy trying to play for two. Ironically she did find respite in her motherly duty, finding bits of herself you had taken with you in her darling little girl. Ball of oxygen like she had never experienced before, the kind of fresh air tennis could bring her.

“She’s cute, your daughter. Looks so much like you, almost feels like Art didn’t have anything to do with it.” You said nonchalantly.

She could’ve carved your eyes out for that comment, slapped you with nasty words about your life and how bitter you were that it wasn’t you. She remembered how you four had planned it. You and Art were supposed to marry because you loved each other the healthy, reciprocated, committed way. Like a couple who wanted to grow old and have plenty of kids together did. Tashi, she loved you as much as she loved tennis, but tennis came first. Patrick loved Art as much as he loved tennis, but he loved Art more. They’d find mutual benefits being together, because they worked and loved each other in a way that worked. Loved each other like two pieces of one tennis driven soul. After one very long and celebration filled night where everyone had won something, you’d made a promise that reeked of love, the kind Tashi had never allowed herself to feel for anything that wasn’t tennis. She loved Patrick really, but you first and Art too. You all made her feel alive the way tennis did. Art wanted children, with you, and you wanted kids with him too. Patrick and Tashi, it was more of an eventuality for after retirement. Adoption maybe, or you. It didn’t matter, but it all worked out for all of you. That night, she felt like she was on top pf the world. She crashed a few months later when she fought with Patrick and Art had started his divisive bullshit. The fall of Tashi Duncan, the one who could’ve but never would again.

“She’s a good kid, more like him than you think. But you wouldn’t know, you’ve been busy.” She responded after a while, both to defend herself but also to spit out her anger towards you. It had to come out.

“Don’t expect me to stick around where I’m not wanted.”

“Oh fuck off !” Your nonchalance was getting to her, anger as evident as the sorrow in her voice. “The victim bullshit about how you weren’t wanted can work for the other two but I knew you first. No one in this world wanted you more than we did.”

“Yeah, maybe, but you treated me like shit.” Your tone wasn’t changing while hers shifted from assured to shaky.

“So what, you leave ? We scream at you once and you leave ?” You turned to her, looking into her eyes as if looking through her while she stared at you, awaiting a response. It was surprising really, how easily she lost her temper and composure when it came to you. You were like gasoline to her fire. She’d never show as much passion than in the moments that had to do with you.

She hated you in that moments, because you left her alone. She lost tennis, her mind then you. She couldn’t do this without you but she didn’t have the choice, she faked it until it felt real and suddenly you appeared again. On her screens, then billboards and then ad’s and commercials. Obviously she knew you shared some brand deals with Art, she’d done it on purpose so that she could feel bits of you in him. She smelled you all over him when he had returned from that trip for a brand she had forgotten. She only remembered the look in his eyes, like Life itself had been ripped out of him. They’d shared a look that day and it was all they had needed to know. She, who had started to doubt whether divorce really was the best choice, she now knew that it was. You hadn’t just been lingering around, you were the constant. The glue.

That night, Art had slept in the guest room, crying himself to sleep for her to listen through the walls as she cried quietly. They were pathetic truly. But at least they knew that they had to separate really. No more fight on his part to keep his family, no more doubt on hers to keep tennis. Neither could stand the other any longer nor could they stand the charade.

“You treated me like shit Tashi. You’re not the only one who knows the other and unlike you and your lapdog, I actually don’t mind the truth, even when it makes me look like shit. You treated me like shit, so I left. Or would you have preferred for me to be like your little white boy and stick around to get a taste of what the Tashi Duncan, never really Donaldson, bullshit, conditional love is ?”

You sounded more animated, brought alive by the commentary on a life you would never regret because you knew it brought you the peace they never could enjoy. She usually enjoyed getting a rise out of the other two, feeling like she was better for remaining collected when they didn’t.

Now, it didn’t feel like a testament of her success over you. She never wanted to win when it came to you, it wasn’t about that, it was simpler. You were like a drug she got addicted to, but the good kind. Like being addicted on life. You made her feel alive independently of tennis. With you around, she actually would’ve been okay losing tennis forever because with you around, the story about how tennis was a relationship where you owed it to someone else to entertain them, to build a relationship and whatnot, it just didn’t work.

She felt healthier, in her mind and body with you, like genuinely be alright no matter where life lead her. And one day it all started crashing. Slowly. She should’ve seen it coming, or at least she could’ve paid attention taken charge to fight this the right way. She didn’t. When things got bad for her she’d focus entirely on tennis and when things got bad between you four, tennis was all that mattered until it wasn’t there anymore. She wouldn’t be choosing tennis had she known that it would take you away.

She had lost tennis too at the end so frankly, it didn’t matter anymore but she refused to lose her right to be mad at you too, because that’s really all she had left of you. Her anger and a daughter who grew to emulate parts of you she didn’t know she had missed.

“She hates bugs.” She said. It surprised you, it was soft, a whisper. Almost like she wanted to hide. You could only chuckle because it made you laugh, thought it didn’t make much sense.

“Everyone should hate bugs.” You responded.

“No…” she sighed, annoyed that she had to clarify. “She hates bugs like you do. Has to take off her clothes to check that they’re not there and take off the invisible veil of their presence on her skin.”

“That’s the best way to free yourself from the bugs.” That was weird, and uncool. She looked at you like you were a freak and for a second she was taken back to college, where you were the cool mysterious girl who everyone wanted to fuck but were too scared to approach. You really were a weirdo who hated bugs and could throw up if a caterpillar crawled your way. You were so cool to everyone but her. Just like now.

If you could’ve described her expression, you could only associate it with the way she looked at Patrick usually. That was the look she gave him when he’d forget himself and talk to her like she was any kind of girl he picked up off the street at a bar to fuck. She looked at you like you had lost your senses and had about five seconds to find them which was funny because she was the one losing it.

She loved you a whole lot, which was insane.

She stood and looked at you from above with disdain and contempt.

“You’re a pussy who runs away at the slightest of issues. I loved you, I list tennis and you left me because I wouldn’t coddle you anymore.” She spat venomously, aiming to hurt.

You looked at her, indeed hurt but also surprised. You were more wounded by what her words meant than what she had said.

“Y-You… You think I left because you weren’t playing anymore ?”

“That’s exactly what you did.”

And for the first time you were affected. This was the first encounter that had really thrown you back in the past.

You felt tears well up on your eyes, the feeling of your eyes trying to soak up the tears to keep you composed, so overpowering your throat was stuck. You didn’t want to cry and she didn’t want to make you cry, but she also did, because then maybe you’d feel exactly like she had for weeks back in the days.

“If… If tennis really had been what had sealed the deal, I would’ve stayed for Art, fucked him and gotten pregnant, Tash…” You chuckled, trying to conceal the pain that came with understanding what her best friend felt. You finally saw her view, all because of a simple phrase from her. “I left… I left because I was useless to all of you, Tashi… Without tennis to make you happy, what good was I around other than to have sex and remind you of how disposable I am ?”

You had cried yourself to sleep countless times, begging for assurance that you were good enough, that you could be loved, that you deserved it and weren’t disposable. Patrick’s words had been etched into your skull like a scar that wouldn’t ever go away. And she didn’t seem to see it correctly because she looked disgusted but really she was angrier than before at you for speaking up after a decade and at everything that had a part to play in her loosing her best friend.

“I never said any of that crap to you, so why would you think that ?”

“Because you hadn’t said the opposite, Tashi. You sunk and pushed me away, made me feel like shit for trying when I could never understand but you wanted them. Even Patrick you wanted him around. I was the waste of air…”

And she would’ve screamed at you that no, you weren’t, she had loved you and still did and would burn herself raw to show it, because she loved passionately and her passion with Art depended on you now, kinda. She would’ve slapped Patrick’s jaw off and had him searching for you to apologize. She would’ve done this a thousand other ways and shown you the years of tear stains and sleepless nights where she could only fall asleep to your voice on the TV, singing your life away as if she didn’t exist and wasn’t watching you. She wanted you to hear it, all of her anger and hatred.

Instead, Lily returned, running happily while you whipped your tears. She could only hear the ‘mommy’ coming out of her daughter before tuning her out to watch you. You knelt, listening to her talk about her rocks and the other kids while she watched or admired. Before she knew it, you had rolled away on your skateboard leaving her again.

~

If you presently took time out of your day to think about your exes, it wasn’t because it felt good to think about them, but because they were all crumbling, Tashi included, the most put together one of them. Patrick, it made sense. But Tashi, it was a surprise, though not so much. After Art had unilaterally decided, to announce his retirement, most likely without consulting his wife and coach, you had expected a shift, a the divorce announcement which had followed a month later was part of that. But to catch the three of them together, yelling at each other in the middle of a school was even more a surprise.

You’d been riding your motorcycle downtown when you passed a school. Stopping at the red light, you almost fell off your vehicle when you heard three more than familiar voices in front of a school gate. You felt them themselves had noticed you when all three stopped to turn in your direction. You were remained still, staring straight at them through your helmet. Tashi, always in the middle would be staring into your eyes if she would and a part of you wished she was, to see how she would react. Didn’t matter though, a part of you knew she had recognized you first, her body shifting from anger to unprecedented sorrow, like seeing a ghost of the person you had lived the most in a stranger passing by. You knew they were gone yet you still saw them and felt all the love you had missed out on giving them.

Lily noticed you next, how, you didn’t know, but she did, waiving her arm so hard it could come off at any second. The rest you tried to ignore feeling slightly, but only slightly, humiliated that you’d been pulled so easily into an impromptu dinner at Art’s apartment where Lily stayed for the week because you had stupidly promised her to recount the tales of your movies and concert adventures all over the world. And obviously, after the dinner from hell where each mention you had made about your past and its relation to your current career was met with a snarky comment, mention about a more than private anecdote or a longing look that made you feel like you had passed away tragically, you had to deal with The Conversation. Years of work, years of you steering clear off these people, all gone down the drain because of one little girl that just so happens to be a little too curious.

You would’ve honestly chosen to have a bullet going through your forehead before you willingly accepted to be in a situation like this one. But you also hated being inconvenienced and Art’s look of desperation was enough of one without dealing with Tashi cussing you out again, so yeah you accepted. Patrick was pretty chill, actually really nice to be around when sober.

And then ensued the longest and lost quiet ten minutes of your life, with Art looking down at you like you could evaporate, Tashi looking at you like you spat in her face and Patrick looking at you with genuine happiness, almost glad that you were here. You, were looking elsewhere, everywhere, analyzing the space and checking for the nearest exit. You would’ve made a run for it if you weren’t so fucking lazy, really. Unlucky you, victim of her own lacks.

Patrick was the first to talk, hesitant but clearly not feeling guilty or ashamed of anything. Or maybe he was but had learned to deal.

“I’m really happy to see you. I get to thank you for rehab.” He said and you almost glared at him, which he noticed, grinning like he used to, the smug fuck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spat.

It made him chuckle really, how hard you tried to detach yourself from them but kept yourself in their orbit at almost all times. You were a brat and he was glad to see it hadn't changed.

“Right.” He nodded, complying with amusement. “Well, whoever is responsible in your team for my rehab as well as the apartment I got after, you’ll thank them for me.”

“They’re getting fired.”

You were stubborn, maybe more than him even, and he understood, definitely more than the other two who too busy hating you or loving you unconditionally.

Then began another five minutes of silence, broken once again by Patrick.

“Okay, I feel this is a waste of time.” He had barely started that you were already standing up to leave, quickly stopped by a frantic Art standing up in a hurry to stop you while Tashi’s head snapped in your direction coaxing you into sitting down with her eyes. Patrick enjoyed this greatly, how pathetic you made these two. “I mean, if we’re going to be here, we might as well talk. We need to, we haven’t in a while after all.”

Tashi’s anger changed focus to go to him, glaring at him with disdain.

“Since when did you become a fucking preacher of all things healthy and positive ?”

“Since someone nicely offered me a nice stay at a top tier rehab center that offered solo therapy sessions. The kind we all need.” Every word seemed to be pointed at you and you almost whished you’d left him to rot in the back of his car.

“I go to therapy, you ungrateful fuck, you won’t be teaching me shit about a healthy mental state.”

“Oh, what do you go for ? To learn to be less of a pussy and not run when things don’t go your way ?” Responded Tashi, more than annoyed by your condescension.

“No, I go to learn how to deal with nasty cold-hearted cunts who fail in life and take it out on everyone around them because they lost their lapdog husband to do that. Clearly it’s working because I’m here.”

“Oh look at her, she had a voice and a purpose now.”

“Don’t talk to her like that…” Muttered Art, finally losing it enough to speak up. It was cute, coming from a good intention and making shit worse.

“And look who finally grew a backbone ! Arthur Donaldson, standing up for someone, how nice. Of course it has to be for her, because if you won’t be fucking her behind my back and moaning her name while balls deep in me, you’ll be defending her.”

“Don’t start Tashi. You moaned her name more than I did, you’re mad that I got to see her and you didn’t, so let’s discuss that !” His voice increased in volume, meeting her as she stoop in to get in his face.

“Why the fuck would I need to see her ? She abandoned me ? She’s a fucking traitor !”

“Oh that’s rich coming from you Tashi, because you drilled in my head that after your fucking knee gave up on you I didn’t serve any other purpose than a nice fuck to remind you that there was always someone more useless than you now !”

The voices were coming from everywhere, heated and hurt by the wounds of the past, the kind that couldn’t heal until they were acknowledged.

You were all breathing loudly, looking at each other in pure anger, the anger you had repressed for years, the nasty words and ideas that you had let fester in your minds, desperately trying to move on and to grow into better people. You were all bitter, and in a funny twist of things, the most insane one of you remained sat, smiling at the three of you, enjoying the show.

“Oh, sorry.” He raised his hand, waiving it nonchalantly. “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying this. Happy to see you communicate.”

Had it been anyone else, you would’ve punched their teeth in, but Patrick enjoyed this. Sober or not, he remained annoyingly toxic, thriving off of the chaos that follows him.

“You’re enjoying this ? Really ?” You sounded just as surprised as you were amused, balancing between two moods that had you going from hot to cold.

You watched him stand up and get closer to you, close enough for you to smell the mint body wash on his skin. Good Lord, he smelled so good you could fuck him right now.

His hands traveled from your forearms to your cheek, holding your jaw nicely while you tried to act utterly disgusted by his presence and his touch.

When he kissed you, all tongue and drool, it was a little more difficult to act, mostly when you pulled at his hair the way he like and when his hand moved to hold your throat softly.

“What do you need to drop this act ? You know you want us, sweetheart. You need us in your life and it’s really embarrassing that you’re still keeping up the bit after more than a decade.”

You would’ve been bewildered by his audacity had you not been almost fucked mercilessly into dealing with it. It didn’t mean you wouldn’t enjoy putting him in his place, which is what you did when you pulled him away from you by the hair before pushing him back into his chair but not pushing his hand away when it loved to you exposed hip bone.

“I don’t know what fucked up substances had been floating in your system that fried your brain, but you told me to fuck off and die Patrick.”

“You’re being dramatic.” He cut you off with a grin, enjoying the situation even more.

“If I remember correctly, you called me useless. That sounds pretty freaking clear to me. As a matter of facts, the two other’s didn’t even say shit to shut you up so you can choke for all I care. Because yes I left, but you gave me the only reason I needed to.”

And it was funny really, how anger made them all lose their memories because you had really been given a reason, but they still felt like victims.

“So you listen to what my bitch says now ?” Tashi chimed in, angering you further.

“I’m as much your bitch as he was so, yeah, if you’re not defending me, you’re agreeing with him.”

And the perspective wasn’t new to her. It just meant she was wrong all that long and that wasn’t something she could accept. She has thought for years that you’d looked for the exit, when in truth they had opened the doors for you.

And now, it was her turn to kiss you. Nasty and greedy, teeth knocking and pussies leaking as she cussed you out like never before. She wanted you and hated you for making yourself wanted after years. Wanted you so much she pushed you onto the table, swatting the teacups off the table to crash loudly. When her mouth traveled down your neck, biting along the way, as if she was attempting to catch up to years of not marking you as hers, you cried out her name all while pulling at her hair.

Maybe it was the use of the present tense that fucked with her brain on a cellular level. Or it was the way Patrick had kissed you as if he had rights over you when then knew she was the only one who had rights over you. And fuck, you looked so good when you were a bitch, that had her leaking out of her panties like never before.

She refused to take up responsibility but you also refused to admit that you had settled for less, accepting the apologizes hidden in her actions. Mouth mean and piercing when her touch was so soft, like an apology that wouldn’t come out.

When she slid your pants down along with your panties, you expected to get eaten out, instead confronted by a crying Tashi.

“What the fuck ?” You exclaimed, seating up and looking at her.

You tried to raise her hand but were pushed back down instead mouth stuffed with your panties while she hid between your thighs. You would’ve loved to get her tongue deep inside you but with her tears running down your inner thighs, it was hard to not be distracted. She sobbed louder, finally stopping before springing up and storming off.

Art was the one to stop her, worried for the woman he had seen cry maybe twice in his life. His eyes asked a thousand questions wonder and fear traveling through, powered by the fear of failing to rekindle the old flame that kept him alive.

“Why did you have to fuck her ?! Why do I have to deal with her again ?!”

It was harsh but you didn’t take it personally, never with her. She was a loyal person, ironically, and to lose the pillar that you were had killed her inside. Her finger pointed at you while she sobbed, letting go of years of resentment.

“You abandoned me ! You left me but you fucked him and you pay for the other to go to rehab ! He hurt you and you save his life when you should let him burn !”

The mask of assurance and anger was crumbling like a sand castle under a wave, traveling as fast as her tears. You wanted to reach and comfort your girl but now could be the wrong time.

“They get every piece of you, even from afar and I get nothing ! You give me nothing but fucking dust !”

This time you did reach out. Holding out your hands to her and letting her fall into your arms like she usually did. She never fought to reach you, she melted for you more than for anyone. Maybe that was why her marriage to Art had failed, because by default, you were the quickest route to her heart beyond the planning for the perfect tennis related life. You actually touched Tashi.

After a while she stopped crying and marched towards Patrick to slap him because he was a smug bitch and the source of all of this, but he was also a good sport and took it rather easily. He didn’t care about the slaps, not when they were a necessary step to getting you back into this circle, the correct universal order of things. And he was also pretty glad that she’d slapped him if it meant he could watch her lodge herself between your parted legs and stick two digits in your mouth to shut you up when you yelped at the coldness of her breath on you.

“You’re sick, you know that ?” She had chuckled when looking at you dripping center and rubbing her thumb on your clit. “I cry just a little and you actually get wetter. That’s fucked, even for you.”

Yeah you were weak to her tears and yeah it did make your insides throb but not because you liked to see her cry. It was because a very twisted part of you knew that only you could get her to act like that, only you could get her to lose that ego and be human for a second. And when she looked up at you with reddened eyes and lashes still a little covered in tears, you did moan because fuck she was hot. She was insane but she was hot and you’d missed having her tongue on you so you took it like the good girl she had trained you to be.

“See how easily things go when you stop being dramatic ?” Had scoffed Patrick, still grinning as he walked towards Art.

“Fuck y- Aah !” You couldn’t finish that sentence, nor when she sucked your clit in like she loved to do whenever you got mouthy. It trained you to be polite.

Patrick watched you slowly lose your resolve, twisted into a submissive little thing, the sweet girl he used to fuck into oblivion, not the egotistical pop star that refused to fucking talk to him.

While Tashi had her fun between your thighs, slid behind Art who evidently couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Oh, how he had missed you, all of you. To watch Tashi devour you like she did ignited a fire in him he hadn’t felt in about a decade, or six months if we went back to the last time he saw you. Here you were, laid on top of his kitchen like a godly offering meant for him to devour. He looked down at you core, watching your cunt throb in desire, never really satisfied until you were filled up properly.

He watched you with glossy eyes and a line of drool picking out of the corner of his mouth, he wanted his mouth of your tits, so nicely presented, bare under your top. Was that what you wanted ? For him to see you and think of your night together, like he had done for the last weeks ? Were you trying to get him to lose it ? He was going insane, more than usual. He could still see him jerk off in the shower, his bed or his TV whenever something about you came up in his head or his screen. He saw you and would cry at the loss of you all while cumming all over himself repeatedly.

“Look at this, pretty girl…” Muttered Patrick, running his nose down Art’s neck. “Look at your sweet boy, Art. Look at how hard you get him when you start acting nice with us ?”

His large hands slid under the blond man’s joggers, pushing the tiny briefs he wore to the side, to let his large cock be freed. You saw him sigh in relief, his long girth and thick balls finally freed from the piece of fabric barely covering them. You could salivate at the thought of him, how his pore dick just could never fully fit in the tiny underwear Tashi had him buy. He’d get aroused and need to push them to the side to breathe. Obviously, all that before you offered to get on your knees and relieve him from the itch.

And you were already getting crosseyed, losing your resolve quickly and forgetting why you were angry at them for all these years. You couldn’t remember, but you knew that you were ready to be used by every single one of them. Starting with your poor baby boy who tried his best not to jump you, respecting Tashi’s time with you all while leaking cum through his joggers. He tried to be so respectful that was the one to drop his pants and tug at his balls to give him a little friction.

A little always went a long way for Art, so when you saw him cum all over Patrick’s hand and not down your throat you were a little disappointed.

Tashi barely spared anyone a glance, to busy exploring your insides with her tongue. When your legs closed in around her, she knew you were close, enough to satiate a decade long thirst for your sweet juices. She sucked in your clit again and you tried to crawl away, too sensitive for the double sucking and penetration, her fingers sliding inside you to part you open properly.

You were so close, whining and moaning her name while rubbing your pussy on her face. But then she stood up, leaving you to cry out while you watched your orgasm die on her tongue.

“You really think I’d let you cum after you ghosted me for a fucking decade ?” She said, looking at you with a mix of disgust and amusement.

You wanted to scream and cuss her out for leaving you so high and letting you crash down, but you knew better and you knew she would do worst if you didn’t watch your mouth.

Patrick was the one to make a move, kissing forehead with another fucking grin. Was that the only thing he did ?

“Be nice to our girl, Tashi… She was certain that we hated her guts.”

“Yeah, well that’s not my problem. You fuck her if you want but she’s not cumming until I say she does.” Her gaze was decisive and you knew that was an order for the two men in the room as well as a threat to you.

You tried to plead with your eyes, pulling at her heartstrings to no avail, you’d need to make yourself be forgiven. But it was also easier to plead with Art who was still staring at you, desperately waiting for his moment. Patrick stared at you both, amused at your fickle attempt at restraint.

He'd always be the one to let himself be driven by his dick so really, he could salute Art for the attempt, had it been him, he would’ve fucked you stupid already. And he would, eventually, he wanted to, his throbbing cock a proof of that. But he wanted to deal with this shit first.

“How about we calm down and let all the anger go, huh Tash ? Look at our sweet girl, look how much she’s missed you ? How about we let her show us, huh ?”

For a few seconds, both looked into each other before she rolled her eyes, agreeing in silence. In mere seconds you were lifted up by Patrick, his hands holding onto your bare ass cheeks while toying with your pussy lips. His nose ran along your nose, inhaling your scent and the aroma of you on his tongue.

“You’ll get to put on a show for us, princess.” He said, nipping on your collarbone all the way down to your nipples. You closed your legs around his waist, throwing your head back in pleasure when his lips ran around your nipple, sucking it in vigorously.

He stopped in his track, turning towards a frozen Art, unmoving and red all over, from the tip of his ears to the tip of his cock. He watched the way you swallowed, eagerly waiting to get to suck him dry. He liked it, when you became just a little bit insane over Art’s cock, salivating at the idea of him drilling his cock down your throat.

Tashi had been watching you this whole time and the way you looked at the blond man. She liked how much you craved Art too, enjoyed watching you two fuck for hours, until you couldn’t think or form a coherent sentence. She stood up, walking in his direction and running a finger over the slit of his tip. He was shaking at the touch, almost ready to cum on the spot.

Tashi took his hand and followed after Patrick and you, dragging the man behind. She pushed him to the bed and Patrick threw you on top of him, Art’s arms wrapping around your waist protectively. He didn’t know what he was protecting you off but he wanted to be in his skin at the moment deep in every crevice of your being.

“Show us what you did together and I’ll forgive you.” She said, taking a seat right in from of the bed next to Patrick.

You could’ve refused, acted like you were better than that, had changed and grown out of that phase of your life and didn’t need her forgiveness. You could’ve been the mentally stable being you claimed to be, but you didn’t. Because you weren’t. You missed being used by all three of the people in the room, watched and admired as a vessel of their pleasure. You missed Tashi being mean to you in bed, so mean that you would cry for hours until she was done and cuddled you afterwards. You missed being used as a cum dumpster by Patrick and his disgusting ways of having sex, thick hairy balls rubbing over your face when he’d make you suck him off. And you missed Art taking you until you were left shaking in his arms, so roughly that neither of you could think a single rational, logical thought.

You missed the messiness of life with them, not prim proper and rational but genuinely sick and twisted, toxic filled bullshit that had you feeling passion like never before. You missed actually being better than them and rubbing it in their faces by always being the first to do the right thing.

You were just as twisted as them, calculated and conniving as the next. Birds of a feather, that was all you, all four of you insane and desperately in love, even if it hurt sometimes.

You didn’t talk shit out that night or the day after. You fucked all night, finally forgiven around 4AM, just in time for Tashi to sit on your face while Art and Patrick battled each other to eat the cum out of you. The weren’t sure whose it was but they wanted a taste. And that went along for the next day because while Patrick and Tashi could actually control themselves, Art never could, not with you. He kept going until his balls hurt and he’d been shooting blanks inside you.

Patrick wouldn’t apologize, not with words but with actions, because he was still an ego drive piece of shit and he refused to admit being wrong when it came to you. But he loved you so he became nicer and watched his words around you, because he refused to go insane again at the loss of you. Tashi would move on as if nothing happened, her girlfriend was back and she’d eventually get married with Patrick because she actually worked with Patrick and loved him the way she couldn’t Art, but never the way she loved you. Art would pamper you like you were heaven on Earth, worshipping the very ground you walked on and feeding off of your love for him just like you fed on his love for you, because you actually loved Art, loved him enough to get married and have that baby you talked about.

The dynamic was weird but it worked and it was all planned also. Nothing had really changed, except you, you became worse. Just as unstable as them.

[mellowumbra]

~Beautiful edges~

An alpha!Abbywerewolf! x afab!omega!reader

SMUT SMIT SMUT MDNI

will have smut, like prolly gon be nasty need holy water smut. plot! slowish burn. alpha, only female alpha you've ever met. Smut is not under the cut but will be expressed!

⚠️ warnings: porn with plot!! dom!sub dynamic, breeding(r!receiving), vulgar words, VULGARITY, descriptions of genitalia, breeding kink, werewolfheat/rut! overstimulation (r!receiving) power and strength kink

Shummary: meeting an alpha was easy. Trying not to fall in love with one? Harder than it looks.

Here is to ALL YALL freaky sob's that just want to see Abby as a werewolf,,,, I love y'all so much

Also I'm SO SORRY THIS TOOK MY MONTHS FORGIVE ME

~~~~

Relocating to the WLF had taken some time to feel somewhat normal and you owed your life to them. You were accepted as one of them, when you were first alone and near death. Omega's in the wilderness alone was a death sentence, but you managed to make your life here wonderfully enjoyable. As close as normal got, it all flew straight out the window when you met Abby Anderson.

Was it strange to meet a female alpha with unbridled power, skill, and rage? Absolutely. Did she scare the ever loving shit out of you? Absolutely. But that didn't stop you from perking your ears to listen every time her name was mentioned.

Abby was a force of nature, she commanded respect without needing to utter a single word. Six feet of muscle and piercing blue eyes that glowed gold and opulent when her wolf appeared. Everyone in the WLF knew about Abby, and were either terrified, infatuated, or a little bit of both. She worked for Isaac, as she was trained and worked like a dog in combat. She led the most dangerous of patrols under Isaac, the man who allowed the WLF to keep you safe, who sent her out to do his worst work.

Being an unmated alpha made it even more..interesting...

As soon as her name entered your airspace, words passed around about the alpha's skills during her rut. You could not stop the onslaught of other companions dishing tidbits during these conversations. Hell you couldn't go anywhere in the past two weeks and not hear about Abby Anderson, the most "skilled" alpha in the entire WLF. You were even more curious to why a female inherited an alpha title. You wondered why you hadn't heard her name sooner, and you soon figured out why. Abby had been in a relationship, and a serious one at that. But, that was over, from what the other omegas in your rounds gossiped about. You were surprised to hear that Abby had been dating a male, a one of almost equal rank as her. Her most recent "pursuits" were women.

You rolled your eyes at Arya's gossip and finished suturing a deep abdomen wound from your most recent patient. The man smiled at you, thanking you for the dressings and ointment. "Hey y/n," Arya says, your other medical assistant and friend catches your attention.

"Yeah? Whatcha need," you ask, wiping down your med tray and discarding a dirty needle.

Arya then asks you if you need to stay longer or if you need to head out. You reply no, you've got nowhere to be. Arya quickly discards her medical garb and ducks out, the sun already set. You sigh and work on seeing if anyone other WLF member needs to be attended to.

Something overpowering and strange enters your sense just after. It makes you stop, startled by the sudden thick air. A strong scent, almost hypnotizing. Abby Anderson is sitting on the bed across from you, blue eyes fixed on your figure. You start, now taken aback at how she appeared almost soundlessly.

"Jesus Anderson you scared the shit out of me," you swore, walking over to inspect a large shoulder wound running from her shoulder to mid bicep. Her muscles glisten with sweat, a now failing stitch job visible against her skin. Her honey hair in a signature loose braid, freckles dotting her neck and shoulders, clad in a gray tank top that exposes her skin to the blistering sun. "Sorry, is' just a habit," she breathes, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Her smile is dizzying but wanton, skin too white. She's in pain.

"It's alright, what are we looking at huh? A mighty alpha needing some help?" You tease, lifting her arm to assess her shitty patch job. Abby hissing at the pain or the figurative jab, you weren't sure.

You smile quietly, adding in a few words of "Alright gimme a second, I can fix you up."

"Thank you y/n, if I tell Manny that his stitch job was shit he'd take it personally," she chuckles dryly to avoid the grimace of you cleaning her wound with alcohol.

The stench almost clears your nostrils of her overpowering scent, almost. With a steady hand, you begin to swiftly move a needle through her flesh. The skin gave way easy to the needle, signalling she must've avoided coming here for a few hours, at least.

"You avoided coming in here, at least since before dinner," you say brazenly.

Abby puffs a quick breath through her nose, unhappy with the answer you've settled on.

"Maybe I did."

You can feel her eyes on you, this whole time. She follows the movements of your fingers, you can hear her nose purposefully inhale quickly at least once, and your cheeks heat at the sudden interest she's taken in you. Her scent is making your mind do flips, alphaalphaalphaalpha repeating in your head by your unhelpful wolf. Your hands almost shaky by the end, Abby rolls her shoulder with the new bandage applied.

"Keep that one for at least the next 2 days, or until you've noticed its leaked through your bandage. Keep it as dry and clean as possible," you instruct.

Abby just flashes you a blinding smile. "You do a good job, I feel better already. Thanks doll," she flashes a wink at you, smirk in her eyes.

That wink makes your ears turn red, palms suddenly sweaty. You roll your eyes to act nonchalant, placing a narcotic in her hand.

"Take these no less than 12 hours apart with food, and I mean it Anderson, with food," you say, fingers brushing one another's as you close her fingers around the pills. A resounding shock zaps through your fingers as fast as lightning, snapping her head up at you. Her eyes flash red just as fast, replaced by their usual blue.

Your eyes are wide, hand zinging from some unseen energy. Abby thanks you silently with a nod, hands stuffed in her pockets, and rushes off.

-------

Ever since that day in the infirmary, Abby is never out of your sight. During inventory rounds with your other med students, led my Abby's surgeon father, Dr. Anderson. She's always just looming. Your friends start to ask questions when the blonde walks into the infirmary one day, looking as healthy as ever.

You stare curiously as catch her eye, when she throws another wink at you. All your other friends blush and try to look busy.

"You don't look in pain Anderson?" You question, raising an eyebrow.

"No," she chuckles, "but I do want to ask if you had any extra isopropyl alcohol on you? One of my buddies managed to get blood all over a cell, and we need a cleanup," she says, so casually.

You start, but manage to stutter out a response.

"Um y-yeah we have some but it's not here yet, I can bring it to you in an hour or so?" You question, to which she just nods and winks at you.

"Find me in the FOB on the first floor sugar!" She calls out, leaving you a blushing mess.

----

Some time later, alcohol in hand, you make your way to the FOB, when a sharp pain in your abdomen makes you lean against a wall in a back hallway. You shake your head, trying to clear your head as your wolf has taken over, screaming for help. Panic ensues. You know any willing male werewolf will hear you, and you sink into a corner.

Someone rounds the corner, and you can't see who it is as your vision is blurry with tears. You turn your head away to ease the embarrassment. The same overpowering scent you remember from two weeks ago invades your mind, and your wolf goes nuts. It's Abby, and she knows exactly what's happening.

SMUT I REPEAT SMUT

"I'm so sorry please don't come closer pleaseAbby," you beg through near tears, your heat blinding and painful. Quick breaths through your nose accompanied with full body shakes makes Abby growl lowly. She knew you needed to be claimed, the pain unbearable for her future mate to endure. A rumble in her throat makes you tilt your head towards the ceiling, breaths coming in faster. That growl is pure power, pure dominance. The fear in your heart of her power comes through your eyes and Abby realizes your fear, and it hurts. Your intoxicating scent fills her nose like a fog, your fight against a need to be taken care of slowly failing. Your heat and scent flies down to Abby's pelvis, unable to stop the whirlwind of arousal she feels.

"Hey, hey look at me," she commands, power still in her voice. She's knelt to your eye level. Don't be sorry baby. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise y/n, I promise. Please, let me take you somewhere safer," Abby begs. Alphas don't beg, they command. Her beg, plea has you staring in her eyes, desperate to believe her.

You pant, fear still swirling in your eyes. Abby just offers her hands, warm and calloused. After not saying anything, she slowly lifts you into her arms. Eyes lidded, mouth slightly parted, your heat addled brain screams at the feeling of power and protection. You can't help but inhale deeply at her scent, your core aching for more. Abby slips you into her room.

"Y/n, please," Abby begs. "I want to help you." Her eyes are a tinge of gold, showing her alpha side. She puts her forehead gently to yours. "I know you have feelings for me," she breathes. "But I won't do a thing unless you say it's okay."

Tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes widen in surprise. You're lucid for just a second. "Oh god Abby, I-I don't know what to say," you groan, embarrassed. Your heat is blinding, a near total body and mind need to just be taken care of.

"I won't do anything you don't want baby," she cooes, her pet name undoing your resolve.

You take a deep breath and swallow, knowing that all you've wanted is for Abby to make you hers. And only hers.

"I want to be yours. I want to be only yours," you admit, cheeks darkening. "Please tell me you feel this as strongly as I do," you rush out, fully vulnerable.

Abby's turn to be wide eyed is short lived before she lands her lips on yours, desperate and hungry. "I want nothing more then to make you my mate. I- want- nothing more -than to fuck you into -this bed- for hours," she groans as you moan into her mouth. Her lips are warm, your arms reaching out to tangle in her blond hair. Your heat is begging, burning like a fire under your skin. You whine pitifully, Abby now fully aware of your need.

"I know darling, I know," she whispers. Abby lays you down on her bed, kissing you with a new ferocity that made you tug at her clothes. Feeling her strong abs run over your now bare chest made you bite her lip, a low growl coming from Abby's throat. Her mouth kisses down your neck and reaches the softness of your chest. With lips and tongue, she sucks your nipple between her teeth, licking it as it grows in need. Moaning at this was music to your alpha's ears. Your breasts are damp with spit and raised pink nipples fall in her mouth as she attends to one after the other.

She pulls your pants off, letting your heat racked body shiver at the sudden coolness. Her eyes flash a deep gold now, looking you over, a wanting moan leaving her lips.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to see you like this, how long I've been wanting to do this with you," she groans, the obvious bulge in her cargo pants making your mouth water and brain go fuzzy at her words. Her hands sink into your skin, pulling the flesh as she drags her hands down your stomach and over your thighs. Your cunt is wet, glazed over with slick and need. Pink lips swollen at the want of satiation. She kisses you, hand reaching down to palm you, gathering your wetness along her fingers. Your pants have turned into whimpers, into breathy moans.

"You're so wet for me, my precious mate," she cooes, dominance leaking through her words. "I wonder how wet you'll be when I sink my cock into your wanting pussy," you moan at her words, pulling off her pants. A small gasp leaves your lips as her member springs out of her boxers.

"That is a dick of an alpha for sure," you breathe out, hearing Abby chuckle darkly at your surprise. Its shaft covered in small veins, her pink head leaking precum at the sight of your naked body. Abby leans forward on her elbows, soaking up more of your slick on her cockhead, her kisses to your lips bruising. Your scent is making her drunk, the end goal of this mating lost. Ignoring her own desperation, Abby sinks below your waist and licks a long slow strip up your center, capturing your clit in her mouth to softly suck.

"I'm not fucking you stupid until your come all over my face, my pretty mate" Abby groans.

Her name leaves your lips in a yelp, unfettered moans follow. Her tongue is masterful, her lips covered in your shiny arousal. Up and down she moves her tongue, taking time to let herself tongue fuck you, dipping into your wetness. Latching onto your clit, she sucks soft pressure and swirls her tongue. With nothing to grab onto, you resign to tugging at your alpha's long blonde locks, legs high above your head, resting on her shoulders. The muscles in her back flex and stretch as she fucks you.

"Abby, o-o-oh fuck Abby baby pleaseplease alpha please," you moan and moan, dragging your hands through her hair.

At the mention of her title, Abby growls and picks up her pace. You feel the band in your belly tighten and snap within seconds as your orgasm washes over you in a blissful wave. Your toes curl and back arches off the bed, head thrown back in a long and loud moan. Abby continues to fuck your aching cunt into overstimulation, your legs shaking and breath uneven.

"Baby, baby I can't-can't take it anymore," you whine and moan. Abby doesn't stop but unlatches herself and slaps your pussy lightly with her palm.

"You're going to take what i give you angel, and you're gonna say thank you alpha," she hums and holds your jaw with her hand. "Okay baby?" She asks.

"Yes baby," you say softly, lips puffy as Abby captures them in a deep kiss.

"Thank you alpha," you admit shyly, peeking at her reaction through your lashes. Her breathing is ragged, hair undone and messy. Her eyes are a fierce gold, desire evident.

It didn't even take a minute before she slowly sinks herself into you, squelching sounds accompanied. Snapping up her head to you, she examines your features for any sign of pain. Your eyes are half open, lips parted in an O.

"Are you hurt?" She questions, stilling inside. You slowly shake your head, gripping her shoulders and wrapping your legs around her waist. With that, Abby slowly moves through your now sopping cunt. Her breath is short, focusing on not coming too early. You wrap around her like a vice.

"Fuck-fuck fuck baby you're so wet, so tight so warm you're so perfectfuck you are soperfect," Abby moans.

You moan at her praise, tangling your fingers in her hair, reveling in the closeness of your skin. Held up by her strong arms, the muscles in her biceps flex by your head.

"Hold on tight princes," Abby whispers into your ear, nipping at the skin.

Her thrusts start slow and languid, drawing out loud moans at each bury inside you. Your moans only get louder as her Hips snap back into yours at a near brutal pace, relishing in the wet sound of skin on skin. Abby examines your fucked out state of bouncing breasts, loud breathy moans and profanity.

"Fuck Abby fuck ABBY fuckfuckfuck my alpha fuck my alpha," you moan out, whining at the feeling of her cock stretching your walls to a beautiful feeling.

"Markmemarkmeplease baby breed me please baby please," you whine out, surprising Abby at your vulgar confession.

"Yeah baby? Fuck you'resofuckingwet, you take my cock so good baby you want my pups baby? Want me to breed you like a good puppy?" Abby moans, as the slap of wet skin fills the room.

"I bet you'd like me to breed you, huh baby?" Your fucked out smile gives her the answer she needs. "Yes abby please baby breed me please don't stop," you whine.

"Dirty girl, I knew you'd like that," Abby seethes as she bites your neck, sweat on her brow.

"You wanna be all round and fuckin full for me?"

"please Abby please baby yes yes yes!" you exhale a loud moan from your chest, as she leans forward to kiss you hungrily.

In a fast motion, she flips you on your belly, arching your back and pressing your cheek into the soft mattress. Your ass on display as she spreads you to see the slick drip down your thighs. You shake your ass slowly, all shame gone, wanting to be bred like a bitch in heat.

Her hands find your hips again, fucking into your cunt immediately like the world was ending. Muffled moans and screams come from your lips, Abby moaning at your soaking pussy sucking her in and milking her cock for all it was worth. Listening to your moans go up in pitch and your cunt get tighter and tighter told Abby you were so close to coming.

"You'gon come for me baby? Come all over my cock baby, c'mon you can do it. Cream all over my cock my good puppy," she rushes out, hands pulling you back to bounce on her dick.

"Fuck-ff-fuckfuck Abby I'm gon come 'my god I'm gonna come," your legs shake and let your orgasm push Abby into hers. Abby grabs your stretched out hand and squeezes it, to ground you. White hot pleasure consumes you and the heartbeat between your legs races.

You yell her name and moan a loud FUCK, drool sticking to the side of your cheek.

But abby wasn't done yet, your pleasure just comes first.

Abby's groans grow higher and higher, as your pussy pulses around her. As she feels you completely tighten around her, Abby's orgasm explodes. She feels her cock swell and a euphoric feeling washes over at the feeling of her breeding you completely full.

"Fuck baby, fuck baby ohgod," Abby moans as she collapses against your sweat drenched skin. You moan back weakly, shivering at her slow kisses up your back.

"You're so beautiful baby, gonna be so beautiful for me," Abby whispers, pulling out slowly to your disappointment.

"Fuck princess look at you," the alpha groaned, skilled fingers pulling your puffy pink lips apart to watch her cum drip out of your overstimulated pussy. You whine again, sensitive to her touch.

She coos, kissing the swell of your ass cheek.

"Come here princess let me hold you," Abby coaxes, slowing moving your body to lay between her legs. She softly kneads your back as you lay, breathing in her scent. Soft kisses to your forehead manage to lull you into a dreamlike state.

"Rest my precious mate, I've got you baby," Abby breathes, wrapping her strong arms around your figure.

Maybe falling in love with an alpha isn't hard after all.

[kit-williams]

I think Leman, Horus, Lorgar and Emps would be terrifying yanderes.

They all are terrifying Yanderes and like the others I'll point out why!

Yandere Leman! He's cunning! He plays the roll of the idiot brutish barbarian king who rather you all think he is something that he isn't. So either he can start the relationship off between him and his darling with deception just playing the fool while he is pulling strings in the background (I mean he's also a strong psyker in his own right as well). He's probably also less squimish in using force with his darling. He snarl and snap his jaws at her to get her to obey... to herd her where he wants her to go. I also see him being very reward based... he's going to train his darling on how to behave.

Yandere Horus! Oh he's the ultimate honeytrap! He'll lure you in with sweet charming words and his charisma... the darling might not notice anything is wrong as he bottles up his obsessive nature... he stores it all inside how paranoid he feels when other men look at you with lustful jealous gazes... how easily he could butcher an entire room of mortals for you! And once he starts falling to Chaos... he starts to say the silent part out loud.

Yandere Lorgar! @moodymisty has literally the best Lorgar piece and I can't see this man just not absolutely worshiping his darling. Loving every crevice of her and part of her just was basically made for him to love. Oh this man will croon and go on about how you two are clearly soulmates and it's meant to be... even if he's telling you this while tears are running down your face after he's taken you after slaughtering your family. You just were trying to broker peace but you aren't in charge of anything... the imperium's mercy can extend to your planet through you and Lorgar's favor through you as well. He'll happily kiss those tears away!

You know something like that for Lorgar.

Yandere Emperor! I have said my piece several times on why this man terrifies me. He is the ultimate yandere. You either change for him or he will change you. You might not even realize what is happening because of just his psychic might just changing the way you think and act perhaps becoming something completely unrecognizable to who you were? But as with how I've been writing the 40k yandere's we're saying they're in love with who their darling is already. Few delusions of how you'll act because they're all super smart and probably have been stalking you so they already know how you'll be. For the emps... he just has to look at you... tug a thread of you floating around in the inmaterium to know everything about you and I'm certain if a man like him finds someone that he likes he follows the thread.

He literally could be living a double life all the while being a warlord... his darling completely unaware that the poet (or really anything) she is seeing is in fact just some psychic manifestation of him or something (shit also apply this to 40k emps with the star children or his souls/other obscure lore) but just the fact he can be whatever he wants... he's the perfect bait to lure his darling in. He's someone who knows how to play a role to get what he wants and perhaps that role lasts until he ensnares them or until they die... its up to him how long he wants to pay a game.

I have a lot of thoughts about the emps...

Weirdos who like to hear my thoughts: @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon & @sculptorofcrimson because I said yandere emps

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F! Reader - Part 8

a/n: heyy loves! if you’ve stuck around for all 8 parts, thank you SOOO much. writing this series and receiving so many kind comments and love has really made the past month and a half so enjoyable. i cant believe i’m concluding my first fic already!! it’s been so fun and i definitely want to write more. shoutout to my friend @avessss who encouraged me to start posting even though i was really nervous. i couldn’t have done it without her 💕 but anyways enjoy the last chapter! not sure when i will post next but until then… message me, give suggestions, etc!! love you all SOO much 💌

word count: 4.6k words

masterlist

playlist

warnings: MDNI 18+, afab reader, smut, oral (reader receiving), p in v, making out, language, angst for like one second, FLUFF, mentions of alcohol, not proofread

“A pint, please. Thanks.” You smile at the bartender as you slide forward five pounds. You stand and wait patiently, leaning against the bar as he shuffles away to go fill up a tall glass of beer.

You hear your name being said from next to you. You turn to see a familiar girl with olive skin and long, silky black hair. Your brain takes a few seconds to compute who it is.

“Sasha! Hey,” You grin and she smiles brightly. “Hi. I didn’t know if it was you or not,” She chuckles and you stand there awkwardly, not sure of what to say.

“How’s life?” She asks. “Uhh, good. Can’t complain.” You shrug as the bartender slides you the beer across the counter. You take a sip as she nods.

“Same here. Just a little terrified of the fact that we are going to be seniors in a year,” She runs a hand through her hair with a sigh. “Me too, girl.” You nod in agreement.

“How was your summer?” Sasha asks. You let out a sigh unintentionally before fixing your facial expression.

“It was… good,” You nod slowly, almost trying to convince yourself. “I don’t know if you know but…There’s a rumor going around that you and Farleigh had somewhat of a summer fling,” She winces after she says this.

“Oh God,” You press a hand to your forehead and shake your head. “Who told you that?” You groan.

“I’m assuming it came from Felix. I’m not sure, but I just wanted to tell you…” She places a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “If you ever need to talk or anything like that, let me know.” She says, her English accent soft and elegant.

She seems almost too nice. You’ve never seen Sasha like this, so it’s hard to believe.

“Thank you.” You dip your head and take another sip of beer. “I know I was never the nicest to you and we were never close, but I’m here for you.” Her hand falls from your shoulder gently.

“I think I was honestly just threatened by you,” She continues. You jerk your head towards her quickly and furrow your eyebrows.

“What? Why?” You scoff as if it’s absurd. “I always had this… gut feeling that he was in love with you or something. He would talk about you nonstop, about how much you annoyed him and how much he ‘hated you.’ I knew better,” She shakes her head.

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry,” You feel bad, suddenly. Like you were the cause of their relationship problems.

“But that whole thing is over now,” You wave your hand dismissively. “He’s an asshole, isn’t he?” You both giggle at her words.

“He is. I can see why you broke up with him,” You nod, feeling no remorse for talking about Farleigh this way. It’s all true. But you also know Sasha had a lot to do with the shitty parts of their relationship.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” She grins and holds up her hand, giving a tiny wave. “Yeah. See you,” You watch her walk away before turning back to your drink, grabbing it and heading to find an empty table.

You sigh, leaning down and fishing your textbook out of your bag. You still have four chapters to read before tomorrow. The first term of your junior year is kicking your ass, even though it’s only October.

Sooner or later, you see Felix walking through the entrance of the pub. You immediately crane your neck to search for any signs of Farleigh, since he usually follows Felix around. But thankfully, he’s not anywhere to be found.

You turn your attention back to your textbook, and when you glance back up, Felix is sitting across from you.

“Hey.” He smiles and you notice the cigarette between his fingers. “Hi. How are you?” You reply, not exactly in the mood to talk to him right now.

“Oh, you know. Just drowning in work,” He sighs and leans back in his chair, throwing his head back slightly.

“You and me both,” You chuckle lightly and close your textbook, knowing you won’t get anything read so long as Felix is here. He leans forward again and takes a drag from his cigarette.

“So…” He starts, trailing off. You raise your eyebrows. “So?”

“Are you and Farleigh ever going to make up?” He asks suddenly. You cough, surprised by the abrupt question.

“No.” You shake your head. “Don’t even try it, Felix.” You roll your eyes and he groans. “Please, we don’t even get to hang out much anymore because you’re avoiding him,” He whines.

“Then just… arrange a time to hang out with me when Farleigh isn’t there.” You grimace at the feeling of his name in your mouth. Felix facepalms. “C’mon. Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but…”

“It sounds like you think you know what happened.” You narrow your eyes and he seems confused. “What?” He tilts his head.

“Lola told me you’re spreading rumors. Like, that Farleigh and I had some fling over the summer,” You explain, and he glances down like he’s been caught, before looking back up with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“What, you thought no one would hear you two fucking at one in the morning? You guys were so loud, it’s like you wanted to be caught,” He chuckles and shakes his head. Your face burns beet red with embarrassment.

“I don’t judge you for it. I just didn’t expect it,” He says. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you go telling everyone about it,” You reply.

“I didn’t mean to. I told one person in confidence.” Felix says. “You know you can’t trust these people to keep things to themselves,” You shake your head in disappointment.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But I think Farleigh really wants to talk to you.” He says, his tone persuasive and you immediately cringe.

“I’m not talking to him. Nothing will come of it,” You finish off your beer and set the glass on the table decisively.

“I just don’t want our friendship to be messed up because of this.” He says, sounding a bit sad. You look back up to him and see him glancing down at his lap.

“We’re good. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.” It comes off harsher than you meant it to, but Felix doesn’t seem to mind. “I can’t just forgive and forget, you know?”

He nods. “Yeah. Alright, then. Just consider talking to him. I’ll see you later, mate.” He drums his fingers on the table before standing up and walking to the bar. You sigh and decide to pack up your things after checking your watch and seeing the time. It’s getting late.

You stand up and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. You walk out of the pub and down the cobbled streets while looking around and just observing the several groups of students, chatting loudly or laughing. The chilly autumn breeze tosses around crimson and golden leaves.

You go over your plans for the remainder of tonight in your head. You’re going to get back to your dorm, take a shower, then get the rest of your work done. That is, if you don’t procrastinate like you usually do.

You enter your dorm building and then stop in your tracks when you see him standing there, at the bottom of the stairs. It’s like you have a full body reaction to him standing in front of you, sending a chill down your spine and making your stomach churn. He doesn’t speak, he just stares at you. You step forward, walking up the stairs and completely ignoring him. “Can we please talk?” Farleigh calls your name.

“No, we can’t.” You respond, your tone harsh and bitter. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs behind you and you increase your pace, trying to get to your door and unlock it before he can catch up to you. But it’s no use, he’s already standing there behind you.

“Please. Just let me talk to you,” He begs. You shake your head. “Farleigh, I already know how this is going to go. You don’t talk.” You can’t even stand to look at him, even addressing him is difficult after all these months of not speaking.

“I’m going to talk. I swear. Please,” He pleads. “Fine,” You groan with exasperation as you unlock your door, although you’re sort of curious as to what he’s going to say.

He closes the door behind him and you go to sit on the edge of your bed after setting your things down and kicking off your shoes, looking at him expectantly. “Okay, talk.”

“I’m sorry. For everything.” Farleigh says, and it surprisingly sounds sincere. “I’m sorry for being a dick to you all these years. And those things I said at Saltburn, I didn’t mean any of it.” His voice is quiet and he looks down at the ground as he speaks. You blink a few times and take a moment to respond.

“Why would you say those things if you never meant them?” You ask, your own voice timid as you remember all the harsh and cruel words he said to you that one night.

“Did you mean it when you said you hated me and you wished we never met?” He fires back. You bite the inside of your cheek and avoid his gaze as regret washes over you. “...I never said–”

“Yes you did.” It’s silent and the tension in the air is palpable. It seems like you’re both waiting for who is going to speak next, but you aren’t exactly sure what to say.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to apologize when you’ve literally hated me since the day we first met,” You chuckle sarcastically and shake your head. He falls silent, and when you glance back up to him, he looks nervous, like something’s on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s not… exactly true.” He mutters. “I never hated you. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you. That night at Saltburn, when Felix introduced us to each other. I saw you and I just felt… Something just came over me. I’d never felt it before. I mean, I was so captivated by you. I couldn’t sleep that night because I was thinking about you every second. And I was scared. I was so scared. So I was mean to you.”

He lets out a breath after his confession and you stare at him in disbelief. You’re barely processing anything he’s saying. Is this real? You feel like you should pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

“And Felix never kept his friends around for long, so I knew I couldn’t get attached to you. I thought you were just passing by and that I would never see you again. But when you came back the next summer, then the next, and then you got into Oxford, I knew I was fucked.

“I just kept pushing my feelings down and instead of dealing with them, I was just… a bitch. I was trying to push you away and I was hoping that would get rid of my feelings. But it didn’t. And I regret it so, so much. I wasted all this time and I was being so stupid. I was just scared of love. I was scared of loving you.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes and you can hear your heart pounding in your chest. You swear you can see tears in his own eyes.

“What about Sasha?” You ask when you finally gather yourself. “Really? You don’t know why I dated Sasha?” He chuckles a bit like it should be obvious. You shake your head no.

“I just needed someone to distract me. I got with all those people to fill the void. I mean, Sasha and I’s relationship was purely based off of sex. And every single time, I pictured that it was you instead of Sasha. I would close my eyes and imagine it was you. I think that was the only way I was able to get off,” He laughs. Your eyes widen at his words and your stomach flips. So that was why he was always moaning like a bitch?

“So when we finally… I freaked out. It was getting too real, and so I pushed you away again. And I said some shitty things.” You blink and a few tears fall. You don’t even know how to describe how you’re feeling right now. So many emotions are building inside of you, and they’re so dense and heavy, you’re not sure how to comprehend them.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry.” Farleigh seems to notice that you’re crying. “You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m a fucking idiot,”

Before you know it you’re off of your bed, crashing into him and sobbing against his chest. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in a tight embrace and enveloping you in his warmth. Your shoulders shake as you feel all the emotions pouring out of you. He holds you like he’s never going to let go. You don’t want him to let go. Ever.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers your name into your hair. “I’ll never do that to you again.” He continues muttering these things to you as you let him hold you, melting into the hug.

You look up at him and his brown eyes are illuminated with affection. Something about him is different. He’s softer, unlike his usual cold and teasing personality.

He gently moves some hair out of your face and kisses your forehead, causing you to blush and smile softly.

“Why did we waste so much time when we could have been together?” You ask timidly, more of a rhetorical question. He sighs and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Cause we’re stupid,” He chuckles and you let out a quiet laugh. “It doesn’t matter now. We have the rest of our lives to make up for it,” He grins down at you and you smile against his hand that cups your face. He leans down and you tilt your head up to meet his lips. The kiss you share is slow and sensual, like you’re both trying to savor each other for as long as possible, like you’re making up for all those years of fabricated hatred. You can’t deny that you missed his lips and the way that he kisses, the way his tongue licks into your mouth. He pulls away after a minute.

“But I still feel like I need to make it up to you,” Farleigh’s expression changes and his voice lowers to that familiar deep and gravelly sound. You can see the lust in his eyes and you feel butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“What should I do for you, baby?” His hands snake down to your hips as he lowers himself slowly to the ground until he’s on his knees. Your heart races and you feel chills racing across your skin.

He looks up at you and you swear your knees almost give out from underneath you just at the sight. “Far..” You giggle shyly and feel your face burn red.

His fingers fiddle with the waistband of your skirt, almost teasing you and waiting until you ask him to take it off. But after a moment he’s pulling it down gently, and you step out of it gingerly and nudge it to the side with your foot.

He groans and his hands roam up and down your thighs. “You’re so perfect,” He mumbles as he hooks your lace panties under his fingers and pulls them down as well, almost hurriedly this time like he’s just that eager to eat you out until you’re sobbing for him.

Without any warning or time to prepare, his mouth is already on you, tasting you passionately with his tongue and moaning, the vibrations going straight to your core.

You moan breathlessly, your hand reaching down to tangle in his curly hair for something to ground you, and he seems to like this. He keeps letting out these small, needy whines like he’s the one getting devoured.

Every swirl and flick of his tongue has you whimpering like you’re in pain, your legs feeling unstable and weak. He sucks on your clit and you feel two of his fingers already inching their way inside, curling inside of you deliciously. It’s all too much and your breath has turned into short, high-pitched, desperate huffs.

“Please- Shit, Farleigh,” The third finger he inserts draws a long moan out of you. You don’t care if your neighbors hear you. You’re too lost in the pleasure that he’s giving you, with no drawbacks or regret looming in the future. When you think about how he just confessed his love for you, it only brings you closer to the edge of your beautiful release.

He laps up your slick, his tongue getting dangerously close to your entrance. You gasp for air as his fingers leave, only to be replaced by his tongue. You whine at the new feeling of his tongue deep inside of you, his thumb circling your clit. You feel your climax approaching, threatening to make you crumble and beg for mercy.

A deep and guttural groan leaves him as he continues fucking you with his tongue. “Far, I’m close-“ Your hand twists in his hair and you roll your hips against his face absentmindedly, almost like you’re stuck in a trance.

His tongue slips out of you, his nose nudging against your clit. Then, you’re gone. You feel like you’re floating, like you’re the only two people in the world right now, all your thoughts disappearing as that divine ecstasy shoots through your veins and melts your muscles and your bones.

He stands back up and takes you into his strong arms, cradling you as he brings you over to your bed, with occasional kisses along the way. You both pull away to tear off your clothes. You hurriedly pull off your sweater and your bra and toss them aside, hearing them land somewhere on the floor. Farleigh takes his own shirt off and his jeans, revealing that beautiful body you’ve subconsciously been dreaming of.

“Lay down,” You tell him with some sort of newfound confidence. You’ve never been on top before, but right now you want to pay him back and give him all that you have to offer.

“Mmm,” He hums in response, laying down on your small, twin-sized bed. You climb onto the bed and straddle him, feeling slightly nervous as his hands rest on your hips. You keep your hands on his chest as you grind your hips down onto him, feeling the form of him through his boxers.

He’s rock hard, and it only encourages you to continue to grind against him, rolling your hips smoothly and slowly. He whimpers and grips your hips harder, biting his lip. “Fuck, baby,” He moans, his hips bucking up slightly to meet yours.

You can’t wait anymore. You reach down and maintain eye contact as you slowly pull down his boxers, shuffling them down his legs.

It’s definitely intimidating, but you’re determined to ride him. He looks up at you. “Is this okay?” He asks, his hands returning to your hips. You nod. “Yeah,” You reply before rising up on your knees and adjusting yourself before sinking down onto him.

You wince at the delicious pain as your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip, his hands guiding you further down his length. A string of curses leave his lips once his whole cock is inside of you. He definitely missed this.

You place your hands on his chest again as you begin to drag your hips back and forth. He whimpers and whispers your name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck-“ His grasp on your hips tighten and you can already guess that you’ll have bruises.

You rock your hips back and forth, creating a better pace for the two of you as he thrusts up into you. That pained look crosses his face again as you make eye contact. You’re completely enthralled by the sight of each other, a sheen of sweat forming on both of your foreheads. Your head falls back once you finally find the perfect angle that brings you such satisfaction, your jaw going slack. “Baby,” He begs, breathing heavily.

You feel yourself growing tired from the fast rhythm, and you slow down, still circling your hips on top of him. He seems to sense that you’re growing fatigued, so he flips the two of you over, switching your places. You’re dizzy and caught off guard, but you focus on his eyes as he takes over, slowly thrusting into you with long strokes.

Farleigh reaches down to grab your hand, intertwining your fingers together and holding on tightly. He lowers his head to pepper kisses across your forehead, your nose, your cheeks. He brushes some hair out of your face.

“I love you,” He mutters, his nose rubbing against yours. Your eyes widen at his words and your heart skips a beat. You squeeze his hand weakly and grin.

“I love you too,” You whisper back, feeling tears brimming in your eyes. “I love you so much,” You tell him, and he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck as he moans desperately, his thrusts faltering. Your other hand rests on the top of his head, stroking his curls. You both finish at the same time, whispering each other’s names and more confessions of love. It’s meaningful, beautiful, and sweet. Something you’ve craved but never experienced. That is, until now.

He collapses next to you and eventually pulls out of you, causing you to grunt just a bit. You lay there, your legs entangled with his and his arms around you protectively. He pulls the sheets over the two of you and continues to kiss you slowly with so much passion and affection.

Farleigh pulls away and swipes the tears off your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. You take his hand in yours once again and press your forehead against his.

“I could get used to this,” You whisper with a cheeky grin. He laughs softly. “Really?” He responds sarcastically, raising his eyebrows.

“Really.” You giggle quietly and he presses another kiss to your cheek. “I would consider spending the rest of my life with you,” He shrugs nonchalantly and you can’t seem to stop smiling. You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy in your life.

“You’d consider it? Woah, thanks,” You say with fake awe, gasping. “I’ve been considering it for a while, actually,” He mutters, running his fingers through your hair. “Have you?” You whisper, suddenly feeling sleepy. Everytime he holds you like this, it puts you right to sleep. You feel so safe and loved in his arms.

“Mhm.” His other hand rests on the small of your back and you feel your eyelids growing heavy. “I love you, Farleigh,” You whisper. “I love you too.” He replies, and with that, you drift off to sleep, with no cares or worries in the world, now that you’ve finally solved your problems with Farleigh. You’re so glad you gave him a second chance.

The next morning you wake up to Farleigh pulling you closer to him, nuzzling his head in your chest and groaning. You yawn and glance over to your bedside table, checking the time on your alarm clock. 9:42 AM.

Shit. You forgot about your class. It started at 9:30. Oh well. You groan and let your head fall back onto the pillow, rubbing your forehead.You pat Farleigh’s head, his curls sticking out at awkward angles but still managing to look cute.

You shiver and reach down to pull the duvet over yourself. He stirs at your movement and eventually, his dark brown eyes open.

A grin immediately appears on his face as he looks at you, taking in your appearance. Thank God you hadn’t worn makeup the day before. You were in your natural state, besides the messy hair. He traces his finger along your jawline and you smile, tilting your head.

“Good morning,” He wraps you up in his arms again, desperate to be close to you. His voice is deep and raspy. You’ll never get tired of his morning voice.

“Morning,” You reply, snuggling up to him and breathing in his scent. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back soothingly.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt about waking up next to you?” Farleigh asks. You giggle quietly. “Well, your wish came true,” You reply with a quick raise of your brows.

Suddenly, you remember what Lola said that one night at Saltburn as you think about you and Farleigh’s relationship over the years.

“Lola told me something a few months ago,” You start. “Mmm, and what was that?” He responds.

You inhale slowly. “She said that you were looking for me one morning and you came by our dorm, and you seemed very worried about me,” You smile at the thought, knowing what you know now.

“Oh. Yeah, I remember that. I was always worried sick about you. Whether you got home after a night out, if you drank too much, if some guy took advantage of you…” He trails off and sighs.

“Really?!” You ask, gazing up at him in shock. “You’re so confusing,” You let out a breathy laugh and shake your head.

“Do you remember our first night at Oxford? The very first party we went to?” He asks. You nod. He fiddles with a strand of your hair.

“After our little… argument, I stayed away from you the rest of the night. But then it was getting late, and I couldn’t find you, and I didn’t know if you knew the way back to your dorm. When I went into the bathroom I found you passed out on the floor. Black out drunk.” He explains, his voice soft.

“Anyone could have found you, or taken advantage of you. So I picked you up and carried you back to your dorm and tucked you into your bed.” Your eyes widen as your brain registers his words. Lola never told you about that.

“And when we were talking that night on the steps outside at Saltburn when we couldn’t sleep, the first summer you were there, you fell asleep on my shoulder. So I carried you up to your room.”

It’s silent for a minute as you process this. Was it a common theme for Farleigh to carry you to your bed when you were passed out?

“I never knew you cared that much.” You whisper, reaching up to play with one of his curls. “I don’t think I knew, either.” He mumbles.

You kiss him, slowly and gently, smiling against his lips. He grins, breaking the kiss, before holding the back of your head and guiding you back to him.

And you really believe that in this moment, you could die happy. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. The hot August nights, the freezing December mornings, the summer days under cerulean skies. The good days and the bad days. You can’t even remember how it felt to hate Farleigh. Every single trace of dislike for him is gone, erased completely from your heart. All that’s left is a love too strong to comprehend.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha

[harrywavycurly]

How would Niall bring us up in an interview?😍

Hiii babes!!! Oh love this question, so I’m gonna go off of the bf Niall series I have going on to answer this! I did it as a conversation between Niall and an interviewer! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all thing Boyfriend Niall Horan here✨

A/N: Niall gets asked about a certain instagram post of yours that takes him on a spiral of how long has he actually been in love with you?✨

“So Niall before we let you go there’s just one thing that’s been eating at me…” “Oh? What’s that?” “Well…I noticed a certain caption of a photo of you on your…bestfriend’s instagram-” “why’d ya do the finger quotes when you said bestfriend? You don’t think she’s my bestfriend?” “I’m sure she is but..have you seen this photo?” “Let me see here…oh would you look at that?..she always gets the best shots of me doesn’t she? Now you’re saying the caption is what’s bothering you?” “Well read it to us and you tell us what it means.” “It says…oh god…it uh well it says…yup that’s my man right there…” “and that means?” “That means…I’m her man and…I’m right there with three beers in my hand and a smile on my face for those of you tuning in at home who can’t see this absolutely beautiful photo of me that my wonderful girlfriend posted…on the internet.” “So she is your girlfriend then?” “Yeah…has been for a few months now.” “But you two have known each other for a few years right?” “Uh yeah? I think like two years now…hit it off right away and pretty sure I fell in love with her the moment she called me an asshole like five minutes after we met…but that’s a story for another time.” “Wait wait wait…you’ve loved her since you met her but you’re only just now dating?” “I mean…I don’t mean I was really in love with her I just mean she kinda knocked me on my ass and turned my world upside down and like…yeah.” “It’s giving you’ve loved her this whole time Niall…” “god she’s gonna proper kick my ass now thanks to you…I mean yeah I guess I have always loved her? But I wasn’t ready to fall in love with her until recently because I just..I had shit to deal with and didn’t want to put her through that.” “So just being besties was fine for two years?” “Yeah because I just needed her in my life and I took what I could get.” “Did you two date other people during this time or no?” “Uh..well uhm-” “uh oh…did you date other people and she didn’t?” “She dated and I didn’t….her dating other people is what made me get my head outta my ass and tell her how I was feeling.” “We know that obviously went well.” “It ended up going well but like…I knew she felt the same way about me in the beginning when we first met…we had a conversation about it and that’s when I told her I’m not ready for anything close to a serious relationship and that’s why we decided to be friends…so I was terrified to tell her my feelings for her never went away they actually just got stronger because what if she didn’t feel anything for me anymore? I was proper panicking and then she just told me she felt the same way and that once again…I’m an asshole for making her wait so long but that she would’ve waited as long as I needed because she knows I’m it for her.” “Oh god…damn it Niall not you making me cry…that’s so sweet oh my god…” “sorry…I just..I could talk about her for ages and ages if I’m being honest…but yeah she’s my girlfriend and I uh I just love her even though she is the worst photographer in the world…and yes lover of mine since I know you’re listening…I mean it… the absolute worst.” “Thank you so much for jointing us today Niall! And thanks for telling us your love story…friends to lovers is my favorite trope.” “Thanks for having me…kinda felt like a therapy session towards the end there…gotta get all that sappy stuff off my chest…oh I’m an enemies to lovers kinda guy…I love good banter…but yeah thanks for having me and talk to you lovely lot later!”

Instagram Post Mentioned:

[gxldenlush]

Braces || m.s

Pairing: bf!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

Summary: y/n got braces and is worried about what mattt will think.

Warnings: use of y/n, established relationship, insecurities/self criticism(?¿), nicknames (sweetheart, babe/baby, my girl, beautiful), pure fluff

A/n: I’m supposed to get braces soon so ig I’m just projecting😓

semi-proofread

Blue = matt

Pink = y/n

༻☙✲༺

7 Missed calls from “my love🩵”

6 voicemails from “my love🩵”

5 New Messages from “my love🩵”

Babe it’s been almost a week, I’m getting worried.

Why aren’t you answering me?

Did I do something wrong?

I know you’re reading these!

I’m coming over.

I’ve been staring at myself in the bathroom mirror for the last hour. Pushing my lips up and down to show my teeth.

Braces suck. They hurt, they’re uncomfortable… they’re ugly.

I want to break the mirror. But that won’t change how I look. It’s disgusting. Why couldn’t I have had normal teeth? Why did they have to be so fucked up?

I was never insecure about my teeth, until my dentist basically told me that I should be, she told me that some of my teeth overlap and that my jaw is slightly lopsided. After that, it’s all I could see. But now that I have braces to fix that? I can’t even think of going to visit my own boyfriend without being terrified that he will leave me because of how I look.

“He won’t love you anymore”

“You’re not pretty enough for him”

“You look disgusting”

“You shouldn’t even try. There’s no point.”

“You’ll be alone”

That’s all I can hear in my mind as I stare at the mirror, pulling at my upper lip so that I can view my new braces better, my vision slightly blurred from the tears that are constantly rolling down my cheeks and dropping onto the sink below me.

A faint call of my name downstairs confuses me. Matt? Shit. Before I can close the bathroom door, he appears in the doorway, he takes in my tired, tear-stained face and his face contorts with worry.

“Baby, what’s going on? Why haven’t you been talking to me?”

I don’t answer him, not wanting to open my mouth in fear that he’ll see my braces. Frustrated tearsburn my cheeks as escape my eyes. He steps closer and cups my face in his hands, I flinch away, my new braces making not only my teeth sensitive, but the entire lower half of my face.

“Y/n, talk to me, you’re really worrying me” the hurt look in his eyes are enough for me to give in.

I angle my head down and mumble my reply so that my teeth don’t show as I talk. “M’got braces ‘n’ I hate ‘em.”

“Braces, huh? Let me see.” He puts his fingertips under my chin, his touch much gentler this time. I pull away and shake my head.

“Mh-mmh, ‘s ugly” I cover my mouth with my hand as I speak.

“Hey” He speaks gently as he takes my hand and pulls it away from my mouth. “I haven’t seen you in almost a week, I’m getting withdrawals. I want to see my beautiful girl. C’mon, smile for me”

I hesitantly lift my head and smile awkwardly, showing the horrific scene that is my teeth and braces. He puts his hands on the sides of my face again, with such a gentle touch I’m not even sure it’s there. The terrifying dread pooling in my stomach gnaws its way up to my burning throat as I try not to cry.

He smiles wide “There’s my girl. You’re still gorgeous.”

“no m’not” tears fill my eyes, he wipes them away as quickly as they fall.

“Yes you are. You are absolutely stunning, sweetheart. Nothing could change my mind, especially not some braces.”

“But I look so… geeky. I already wear glasses, this is just ridiculous” i attempt to look in the mirror again but matt puts his hands on my hips and turns me to face him again.

“I think you look cute, sweetheart”

I shake my head and put my hands on my face to hide a blush creeping to my cheeks.

“C’mon, let’s go lay down and watch a movie” He takes my hands and moves them away from my face, leading me to the bedroom. He jumps onto the bed with a dramatic grunt, I let out a little laugh as I join him, his arm going around my shoulders and my head resting on his chest.

Matt pulls away slightly to look at my face, he puts his hand under my chin again. “Do they hurt?”

“Like a bitch” I nod. “It’s like a dull ache in my entire jaw as well as my teeth, because they’re fixing my jaw too, apparently it’s lopsided. Look, my teeth go all the way together on one side, but on the other there’s a gap between top and bottom” I clench my teeth together and show him, he looks and I’m right, my jaw is uneven.

“Huh, I never noticed that before” He mutters as he puts his hands on the sides of my face gently and looks closely at my teeth. “Still beautiful” He runs his fingers through my hair and I sigh contentedly at the soothing feeling.

“I remember when I had braces. I hated it, especially when I had to go get them tightened.”

“You had braces?” I look up at him, surprised that I didn’t know that fact.

“Yeah a few years ago, so did Nick and Chris”

“Is that why you’re being so nice about mine?”

“Yes and no, i’m being nice because i know how painful they are when they’re first fitted. But, I do think they look cute on you, and you’ll be happy by the end when you get them taken off because you’ll have nice straight teeth” He smiles down at me, that smile that I adore so much, that always makes me feel better.

I sigh and put my head back on his chest, carefully due to the ache in my jaw “I love you”

“I love you too, Sweetheart”

𖤐𖤐𖤐

We stay like this for a while, just silently in each other’s embrace, until Matt spoke up.

“Why didn’t you just tell me about the braces? Why did you avoid me?”

Regret and guilt eats away at my chest and stomach. I feel terrible for avoiding him, and now I feel terrible for what I’m about to tell him.

“I thought you wouldn’t think i’m pretty anymore… I thought that if you saw me with them, you’d leave me”

I can hear the surprise mix with hurt in his voice “What? Sweetheart, I wouldn’t- first of all, I’d never not think you are anything less than fucking gorgeous. But also, I would never just leave you simply because of your braces. I love you way too much to do anything like that.”

Even though his words cause a warmth in my chest, it also causes the guilt in my stomach to finally chew a giant hole all the way through. “I’m really sorry that I thought that of you, I was just scared…”

“It’s okay, baby. I, of all people, understand overthinking a situation. It’s alright. At least now you know.”

I nod in response, we turn on the TV and watch one of our “together-shows”. Every now and then (the only movement made by either of us) matt kisses my temple as a reassurance that he’s still there and still loves me.

Matt always knows how to cheer me up and make me feel better. I never stay in a bad mood for long when I’m around him. And he’s right, braces are temporary, and I’ll be happy with the end result so there’s no point dwelling on something that is gradually making things better.

[aithusarosekiller]

An Extensive List Of Ouizzy Hcs

Frenchie is a cuddler. If he gets the opportunity to latch on like a koala you know damn well that he will do it. This is often paired with soft kisses to wherever is closest to his face. He and Izzy were initially very casual with very little intimacy, until one day Frenchie just decided to cuddle up and Izzy had the realisation of 'oh shit, this is actually really nice'

Izzy's response to the first 'I love you' was a very panicked 'fuck off' until he remembered how similarly Ed had responded to his confession and freaked the fuck out because he didn't want Frenchie to feel that way. He was too emotionally constipated to apologise so he just left the room. It took two days for him to approach Frenchie and manage an apology, which was accepted a lot quicker than he anticipated.

Frenchie is so proud that he managed to pull the Izzy Hands and will not fail to mention it to EVERYBODY he comes across. He is very much the 'Well, yesterday, my husband said...' 'According to Iz- that's my boyfriend btw-' 'hey, this is Izzy, he's my beautiful boyfriend' 'I'm so lucky to have a husband like Iz' 'I have a partner too, his name is Izzy and-' 'sorry, I've got a date with my darling Izzy today' type of partner

Frenchie smiles in his sleep. It's adorable.

Jim is their no.1 supporter. They gave Frenchie the shovel talk, which he genuinely did not see coming. They think their relationship is 'cute', which made Izzy particularly grumpy and reluctant to talk to them for a week.

Izzy is a sub

Izzy always falls asleep first but he's a super light sleeper so Frenchie is careful to not move or even breathe too loud because he is terrified of waking him

Stede knew they were dating before Izzy did

Izzy will usually shut down Frenchie's superstitious theories but will occasionally indulge him if he's particularly adamant and it won't cause any harm bc at least it makes Frenchie happy to be believed.

The room they choose to hide Izzy in when he gets shot is the room the two of them had been secretly meeting up in for several weeks before the canon s2 timeline picks up. Frenchie just panicked and took him right there, having to come up with an excuse to give to Archie when she asked why he wanted to drag Izzy behind a dusty shelf.

Frenchie gives neck hugs, Izzy goes for the arms around the waist + face in shoulder hug. Occasionally Izzy will come up and hug him from behind but he finds it more intimate for some inexplicable reason so he rarely does it, especially in the company of others.

They can't go anywhere without walking into some big, scary guy Izzy once hooked up with. But Frenchie quickly grew to not mind because out of all of them, Iz still chose to stick the superstitious barely-pirate with no survival skills whatsoever so are any of them really that cool after all?

Lucius takes every opportunity to tease Izzy about their relationship. He will not stop until he gets a satisfying reaction. Or until he gets bored enough to make up an excuse for leaving...

Frenchie is a biter. No further information.

They don't usually do anniversaries but they DO frequently pretend that it's their anniversary when they want to get out of doing something for somebody else

In S1E4, Frenchie is the one that left the prosthetic at Izzy's door. He's also the one that told Lucius what to put on the note.

Izzy sometimes sings when he's really focused on something but he'll deny it to the end of time. Frenchie hears sometimes and just quietly listens. He'll switch between languages when he sings depending on his mood and Frenchie loses all human cognitive abilities when he brings out the French.

One day, Frenchie 'adopts' a rat he found onboard and calls it Maddy, Izzy hates it but still manages to convince Roach not to skin it and feed it to a seagull, all bc it made Frenchie happy. Ofc if you asked him, he'd say he had nothing to do with the thing being kept.

Frenchie manages to somehow slip the word 'babe' into every conversation

Izzy's a hand kisser. Especially the palms.

They both go to Wee John when they're stressing about gifts or smth and it gets to a point where he knows more about their relationship than they do

Izzy accidentally let the words 'my love' slip ONCE and is not allowed to forget it

There is nothing Frenchie wouldn't do to hear that man laugh. He'll do absolutely anything just to see him smile or laugh, which initially proves to be quite difficult.

They are girl dads idec

Izzy occasionally smokes, and it's one of the key ways Frenchie can tell if he is in pain or stressed out

They make bets about everyone else on the ship constantly. About almost anything.

Izzy tried to teach Frenchie how to read but his reading skills are relatively limited so it really didn't go well. They end up going to Ed for help because Izzy banned him from asking Lucius.

Frenchie knows a lot about flowers. He never says how but he'll go on about them for ages. Izzy secretly gives it endearing.

The black jacket Frenchie wears in s2 was given to him by Izzy. He made some adjustments and added the cat to the back and then started to wear it constantly; he quite liked wearing it because it felt like a comforting layer of protection and familiarity from the horrors around them

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Himbo!Baratheon!Reader out here just stealing everyone’s hearts and living in their minds rent free. He’s probably the only Baratheon brother who thrives in the Red Keep and is closest to Robert, who insisted that Reader live/stay with him as a trusted strategist (Lets be honest though he just wants to keep having fun with his little brother who’s down to do almost anything)

I can see Cersei absolutely developing feelings for Reader when he is respectful and caring for her and listening to her ideas, even discussing them in detail. These genuine interactions has her wanting take the throne and have Reader instilled as the King with her as Queen consort. Not only that but he’s the best “uncle” her children could ever have. Giving them the warmth and care that don’t receive from Robert and can’t receive from Jamie. Speaking of Jamie, do you think Reader’s open friendly attitude yet sharp skill in combat and strategy awakens something in him 👀 Like at first he’s like “Stay away from my sister >:(“ but after getting to know Reader he’s like “You should come train with me :) Or maybe I can should you around Casterly Rock :)”

Omg what would happen if he managed to meet Dany after everything goes to shit? I don’t think he would have any personal qualm with her (if anything he’d probably only have an issue with the mad king) She’d probably see this big smiley puppy of a man and reconsider her decision to only have her dragons as her children. He’d probably tell her about Rheagar (possible exes 👀) and what he was like if she wanted to know 🍃

Oh, Himbo!Baratheon!Reader is stealing the hearts of both men and women alike, and definitely leaving too lasting of an impression to ever forget so no doubt he’s living in everyone’s heads rent free. Honestly, Himbo!Baratheon!Reader is the type who could happily thrive wherever. He’s terrifyingly good at making friends and allies wherever he goes, with most of those allies/friends wanting more than just that.

I really like to imagine that Baratheon!Reader has a good relationship with all his brothers, just an overall special connection with each of them respectively but Robert is the one most outwardly closest to the Reader (along with Renly) given how the two are similar in their enjoyments of having a good time. I like to think that Baratheon!Reader doesn’t whore around very much, he more so enjoys the company of others in general (especially making people laugh and let go) and of course to indulge in a fair share of wine and ale while he’s at it.

Like, this man has literally done the unfathomable by not only being the only one to make Stannis smile let alone chuckle, but he’s done the same with Tywin (although the Lannister will never admit to it or acknowledge it whenever brought up). Honestly, the stag man has got everyone wrapped around his finger whether they know it or not.

Cersei would definitely have set her sights on Himbo!Baratheon!Reader because he was everything she wished Robert was, especially in how he was with her and the kids. He’s respectful, he’s kind, he’s exceptionally in shape (and maintains it), he actually listens to her when she speaks and doesn’t just disregard her. I really love the idea of Himbo!Baratheon!Reader heavily respecting women, he drinks that respect women juice day and night so much so he’d die by it. Like, Baratheon!Reader totally sees how powerful and terrifying a woman can really be if she just so wanted to or was pushed to her limit, and he’s all for it. Cersei would definitely fall fast and hard for the Reader, especially seeing him be so attentive to her children and interacting with them so openly and warmly. He’s able to do what Robert has never done and what Jaime could never do, and all without much of a thought about it. How could Cersei not become captivated with Baratheon!Reader?

Regarding Jaime, I love the idea of him seething with envy and resentment that not only his beloved sister prefers the Reader over him, but also because of how the Reader is in general. The charisma, the respect, the overall love that the Reader receives from those around him; it makes Jaime feel especially threatened. Not to mention when his father eventually comes to hold some form of favor for the Reader too that certainly doesn’t make Jaime feel an better. It really wouldn’t be until Jaime saw and experienced Baratheon!Reader in the midst of battle that he would see him in a completely different light. All this time he thought the Reader was just an overrated, glorified idiot who was all muscle and a pretty face, that was until he was watching the man he internally labeled his arch nemesis in action. Honestly, Jaime would be in awe (not that he would ever tell anyone, not even his sister). Like, he has to physically keep himself from being slack jawed in front of everyone in that very moment. He would definitely have a new found respect and admiration for the Reader after that, not that he would let that on but he would act much better towards him.

Also, as much as I doubt Jaime would ever tell a soul (except maybe Tyrion, depending) that he finally came to understand everyone’s talk about the Reader and himself now harboring some like for the Reader, I love the thought of Jaime just running to Cersei after everything is said and done and the battle is won like an excited little kid and gushing about how cool and amazing the Reader was when in action. If anything the closet he would get to that would be by forcing Tyrion to listen to him ranting away about the whole thing, being both admiring and jealous in his rambling. It would be kind of funny and interesting to see if Jaime were to actually grow a romantic interest in Himbo!Baratheon!Reader, especially whether he would want to try and steal the Reader from his sister or maybe share with her?👀

When it comes to Daenerys, I could totally see Himbo!Baratbeon!Reader going himself to go seek her out. Especially after Robert said he didn’t want her dead anymore. I definitely think that Baratheon!Reader took Ned’s side when talk of killing off Dany came up. He didn’t see the point of it. I feel like Baratheon!Reader would stand by the idea of how a child shouldn’t have to or be forced to pay for their parent’s words or actions. He has no problem whatsoever with Daenerys, he didn’t share his brother’s disdain for all Targaryens alike. He only had his beef with the Mad King and maybe Rhaegar, but he saw no point in bringing Daenerys or Viserys into it.

Honestly, Himbo!Baratheon!Reader would probably leave without telling anyone before he sets off to make things right with Daenerys on his brother’s behalf. There’s a good chance that he may have told Ned of his plans but that’s about it. The Reader would definitely think that going to Dany himself would mean more than sending a raven or messenger. And when he does finally make it to Dany, she wouldn’t know what to do upon being met with the Reader right in front of her. Especially when he apologizes to her, telling her that his brother had called off his want for her assassination on his death bed, that he wanted to ensure she got word that, as far as he knew, the crown didn’t have any ill intentions for her anymore. Given that this would most likely take place after Khal Drogo’s death and Dany getting her dragons, I could see Dany saying she would only accept what the Reader was saying if he married her. Not only as recompense for everything (including the deaths of her brother and father and the loss of their home) but also as assurance that nothing will happen to her or her people. And I have no doubt that the Reader would feel all too inclined to do so just to make amends. Meanwhile, when Cersei gets word she absolutely loses her shit and is completely under the belief that Dany took the Reader hostage and forced him to marry her. It’ll be a hell of a fight between the women, physically, mentally and emotionally for the Reader.

Also, Himbo!Baratheon!Reader would be so kind and understanding towards Dany. She knows only what she’s been told about her father and brother, things that have been either misconstrued or made to shelter both her and Viserys at the time. She doesn’t know the truth or the other side of what exactly happened and the Reader would only be all the gentle and honest in telling her whenever she asked.

Imagine Cersei’s absolute horror upon the Reader getting back to King’s Landing with a heavily pregnant Dany in tow?? She would be utterly livid and enraged. Ooohhh! What if Himbo!Baratheon!Reader became the modern Aegon the Conqueror with Cersei and Dany becoming his Visenya and Rhaenys???? Or maybe instead of Cersei its Margaery who takes her place along with Dany in becoming his wives??

Also, after Renly’s inevitable death, I totally see Loras and Brienne latching onto the Reader as a surrogate for Renly in a way.

[gemini-sensei]

okay so i havent been active in the ck fandom for a while, but i remember your account so vividly and im so glad you're still writing for it omg okay anyway! ive seen SO many fics about teen pregnancy in this fandom, but ive never seen ANYONE write about pregnancy pre karate?? like itd be such a drastic change & im sooo interested in how eli's story would go if he'd happened to get a girlfriend & immediately (accidentally) knocked her up before any of the hawk stuff could happen? Like soft eli is so sweet and caring?? and then suddenly he's big & scary & really jealous and 😭 would it even still happen??

Would love to know your thoughts!! But ofc please ignore if you're not interested :)

First of all, welcome back (? (should I say that? lol)) Second, I LOVE this ask so very much so this might be a little long...

Reader and Eli have had little crushes on each other, but it's not like they're friends. They're lab partners and they don't talk a lot due to being shy and such. Their relationship doesn't start until she builds up the courage to ask him out to the Halloween dance. He agrees through some fumbling words and they're both so excited. It's so cute of them; they get to dress up and it's their first date in a way. It should be fun.

At the dance, they hang out the whole time and talk about comics and movies. Eli kind of accidentally leaves Miguel and Demetri in the dust even though they were with them at first but they backed off because it was obvious Reader and Eli were in their own little world. They dance a little bit but when Eli says something about needing some fresh air, Reader walks outside with him and it's a nice little moment. It's quiet and Reader thinks it's the moment and goes in for a kiss, gently pulling his surgical mask down to do it and he lets her because holy shit this is really happening! They have their first kiss and become a real couple that night.

After that night, they go on a few more dates, but it isn't long before they lose their virginities to each other. As they say, it only takes one time.

They only did it once and it was awkward and lovely. They laughed and got embarrassed a few times, but they took it slow and really cared for each other through it. It ended with cuddles and Reader falling asleep with her head on Eli's chest.

However, a month or so later, Reader is standing at Eli's front door teary eyed and he's fearing the worst. She wants to break up, is what he's thinking. Then she starts rambling about how she didn't want to cry but she has something important to say. He's sure the impact is coming, but then,

"I'm pregnant."

It's a different kind of impact. He feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. He stares at her, completely shocked, and somehow finds himself asking, "Are- are you sure?"

She nods and takes something out of her pocket, a folded up stack of papers. She unfolds them and hands them over to him, and he sees they're from a doctor's office and it's official. This isn't some at-home test and scare that they are going through, this is real.

She bursts into more tears. "I'm so sorry, Eli!"

He would look at her so baffled. "Why-why are you apologizing?"

She shrugs because she doesn't know how to put it into words and he hugs her, pulling her close. She hides her face in his chest and cries. It's the moment he realizes he has to be strong for her, he has to be more than he's been, because he's her anchor right now. Everything feels like it's falling apart and she's clinging to him like her life depends on it. He manages to keep himself together and not cry even though he's terrified of what's to come. He holds her tight and whispers, "We'll figure this out."

Her being pregnant becomes another reason why he joins karate. As time goes on, she can't hide her belly. She has a grace period where her already pudgy belly hides the pregnancy, but she starts to show and it is impossible to hide. People at school catch on to her pregnancy and a lot of people give her a hard time. Eli is always by her side, holding her hand, and having to witness the comments and jeers she has to endure.

One day is particularly bad when Kyler wants to say something to her and he laughs at "how fat" she is. Reader gets upset about it and Eli steps in to tell Kyler off, but he just gets pushed into a set of lockers. Reader, crying and upset, tells him to just fuck off because he's being a total dick. Kyler almost hit her but one of his friends stopped him, explaining to the idiot that he can't hit a pregnant person. Kyler swears he'll get Reader when she isn't pregnant and walks away. Eli doesn't like that at all, so when he witnesses Miguel beat up Kyler, he knows what he has to do.

The first few karate lessons Eli goes to will pan out like they do in the show, but he sticks through it a little tougher because he's thinking about Reader and their baby the whole time. But Johnny does push him over the edge with the lip comments and he leaves, thinking it isn't worth it. He goes home crying and trying to figure out what to do, only to realize that he has to do this and commits to flipping the script and becoming the strong guy he wants to be for Reader and the baby.

After he changes his attitude and hair and is dubbed Hawk, he goes to Reader's house to show her how confident he is now. She answers the door and is shocked to see him. "Eli... what did you do?"

"I flipped the script," he tells her, smirking. "And it's Hawk, now, babe."

He sees the way she's looking at him, a little confused and unsure, so he backtracks a little bit.

"Well, it's Hawk to everyone else... you can still call me Eli," he says and she smiles. That smile is everything to him as she stands there, holding her belly and looking at him as if he's the world. He touches his mohawk and asks, "Do you like it?"

"It's different, and it'll take some getting used to, but yeah. I especially like the color," she giggles and invites him inside. They cuddle and she touches his hair, but it quickly devolves into them making out.

When he competes in the tournament, she's there to cheer him on with her rounding belly and a sign with his name on it. She wrote Hawk on the sign because she thinks of it as more of his "karate name" and continues to call him Eli no matter what. He steals looks at her the whole tournament, thinking she's the cutest person ever as she sits in a dress with her belly. Sometimes when he's not the one fighting, he runs over and gives her a kiss and touches her belly. When he's super excited about winning and tears his gi off, he tosses it to her and she catches it with a laugh. He comes to retrieve it after a moment and sees she's laid the snake emblem on the back over her belly, showing her support to him. He could die happy at that sight.

When his anger really sparks and he dislocates Robby's arm at the tournament, she's shocked and worried. He explains that Robby made fun of him but Reader tells him that that's not a good enough reason to hurt someone. She's so soft and sweet and gentle, and he hears her. He agrees and apologizes, tells her that it won't happen again.

But it does over the summer when he goes after Demetri. She likely finds out from Demetri himself because they're friends, of course they became friends before the karate stuff started when she and Eli started dating. So, she confronts him, telling him, "You can't do that! You can't go around beating up people because they did something you don't like or agree with! I can't be with you if you're going to act like that! For crying out loud, Eli, we're having a baby!"

It gets her so upset and Hawk understands he screwed up. She starts crying and he feels awful because he knows he did that. He apologizes and hugs her, rubbing her back to soothe her. She shouldn't be crying because he did something stupid. He says he's sorry so many times, even when taking her home and cuddling her as they watch a movie. She eventually has to tell him to stop because he's getting a little annoying and he's forgiven, so long as this never ever happens again. She swears to him that if he does something like that again, they're over.

The thing about it is, it doesn't happen again. Kreese can't sink his manipulative fangs into Hawk because Hawk's love for Reader and their baby is stronger than Kreese. So, the rest of the summer goes smoothly.

Until the school fight.

That's when all Hell breaks loose. It's a mess, and pretty much pans out like the show except Reader is on the sidelines begging for someone to do something. She's as big as can be, holding her belly to achieve some sort of relief, as she's watching this shit show play out like a horror movie because she can't believe any of this is happening. She's just in total shock and awe at this mess, but when she sees the opportunity to stop it, she jumps in.

When Miguel has Robby on the ground and lets him go, she rushes over, waddling as fast as she can, to pull him out of the middle of everything. She's a mama to be and has become a bit of the mom of the group. She's pulls Miguel away by his arm and asks him what he was thinking and why this was the solution to anything. Robby still jumps up to attack, but stops when he sees Reader because duh. He'd never go that far, and seeing her makes his anger deflate.

"I mean, come on, this is- uh oh..." she stops midsentence when she feels something warm run down her leg. She looks at Miguel, scared as she remembers what all her mom said, that it'll feel like she peed herself.

Miguel is on high alert at this. "Uh oh? What's uh oh?"

"It feels like I-" she looks down and he does too, seeing the wetness running down her pant legs. "I think I'm having the baby."

Robby, witnessing all this, gets a little freaked out but he still rushes to Reader's other side even though he doesn't know her. However, he's still a good guy and is gonna help the pregnant girl in whatever way he can. The fight and rivalry are forgotten about as he and Miguel help Reader to the stairs and help her down them.

When they come through with her, everything stops and no one can even think about fighting anymore. By the time they're at the end of the stairs, Hawk is coming around the corner and fussing over her. That tough guy exterior is still there but it's a little softer. But if anyone dares to get in his way as he and these two idiots try getting her to his car, he'll bite their heads off.

Needless to say, Hawk is a mess trying to drive her to the hospital because this is sooner than they were expecting. The stress of the school fight caused her to go into early labor and they have nothing they need. The hospital bag should've been put in his car but he kind of forgot to do that, so they don't have it. All they have is some panic and a baby that's on the way no matter if they're ready or not.

At the hospital, after she's hooked up to the monitors and everything, Hawk is by her side the entire time. He pushes her hair out of her face as she lays on her side, just waiting for the time to push. He's apologizing to her about getting into the fight but he was just trying to protect his friends. She tells him she doesn't care about that anymore and just wants to have the baby already because the contractions are killing her. Then she has another contraction, and he lets her squeeze his hand to help her through it. When it's over, she tells him she doesn't want to talk about karate while she's in labor and they talk about other things, like the baby.

It isn't long after that, they have a wiggly little blue-eyed baby girl. She's a heavy little thing, chunky and cute as can be. She's laid on her mama's chest wailing and Reader holds her close, crying happy tears because she's finally here. She gets to hold her baby girl. Then she's taken away to get checked out and cleaned up, then Hawk gets to hold her. She's wrapped up in a warm blanket but she's out in the world and wiggling about, so the wrapping comes loose as he holds her.

He jokes, "She really wanted out."

Reader smiles as she watches, "Yeah, she did."

Hawk will be hard-pressed to let her go, opting to hold her even when she's asleep. He sits back in the reclining chair beside Reader's bed and lets their baby girl sleep on his chest. He watches her sleep, holding her securely to his chest, and silently promises her that he's gonna protect her no matter what. He looks so soft and sweet holding her like that but he has some bruises on his face from the fight. He's arguably scarier and more threatening because he has this cutie to think about and protect, so if you thought he was scary and tough before, people will have a rude awakening if they ever bother her or her mama.

I could do an alternative to this where he doesn't become Hawk if enough people want that. I'd love to do that.

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 10}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Time doesn't heal all wounds, but it does make the heart grow fonder. You find yourself missing Joel, too stubborn to reach out but Ellie is tired of seeing you both pinning as she navigates classes with you and her homelife with Joel now that she's back in the city.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: canon typical language, reader is a dumb dumb, reader is stubborn and heartbroken, mentions of reader's past, trauma, complicated family dynamics, stressful family dynamics, reader mourns her past relationship with father, verbal abuse (past tense), ellie being a scheming lil shit, language, sexual content, references to sexual relations (past tense), smoking, cigarettes, nicotine, drinking, consumption of alcohol, melancholia, manic depressive internal monologue

A/N: WE DID IT, we made it to the end!! i've never finished a fic before so this is all so exciting and a little terrifying, to be honest. i hope hope hope that i've done this lil au justice, with it growing a mind and story line of its own i never even planned for somewhere around chapter five. but we did it and i am proud of this lil one and maybe self-indulged a lot with my own birthday on the 17th! please tell me your thoughts!! a HUGE thank you to everyone that interacted with this. y'all made this possible by engaging with me and inspiring me to continue on even when my own brain was working against me ♡

i would love to take prompts for these two dummies to expand their universe and story in the future if anyone is interested? but i'm still getting used to having what little attention my fics are getting and i dunno if that would be something people are interested in ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Well, you certainly have the enthusiasm, Ellie.” A smile passed over the desk, fingers curled over her application and subsequent documentation. She had already graduated from her Boston school at the end of the previous spring semester, already set up to TA for a favorite professor of hers in the new year after a successful first year of doing so for another. But she had a pending application for a secondary degree. One here in Austin. 

Her life laid out in front of you once she had begun school, having applied and gotten into an art program in England right out of high school, something she had gushed about excitedly for a few moments when you asked her about it. Sure, you had talked about it in passing over shared meals both in the comforting environment of father’s home and while out getting coffee that had developed as a regular occurrence any time she was in town.

She was only four years younger than you, both her and Sarah. So driven and excited about this time in their lives. Sarah having relocated to work for a company that fought for her attention and hire after a phenomenal performance in communications and social work out in California. Both supported and shown love in a way that used to make anger and jealousy flair up in you, but that you now saw as a blessing for those who had that kind of nurturing environment to flourish in.

“I just…the perspective of art and language of art you’re trying to explore is really fuckin’ interesting. I know it doesn’t necessarily fall in line with my focus of studies, but-“

“Classes that interest you are just as important as those that help along your degree.”

“And dad said that I could go for it, said if it’s what I want, he’ll help me in any way he can.”

“Ellie, it would be a pleasure to have you take part in the program. There is a two semester commitment, I will remind you. And the application you submitted for Austin is still pending. But if you’re on board, I can sign my approval and walk it over to the admissions office when we’re done here.”

“I was…actually going to see if you could give me a ride back to the house…dad was in a hurry when my car wouldn’t start, and I left my keys with him so he could take a look at it.”

“Oh,” Your bottom lip was between your teeth, nervousness taking ahold of you. “Um, well-“

“I totally understand not wanting to, but I would feel better going with you than taking a bus or somethin’.”

“It’s okay, I can. But let’s walk this over to admissions and see what we can get in the way of aid first, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah, thank you so much!”

Your class sessions were at nine and lasted for two hours every Tuesday and Thursday. Not wanting to over log the students with a long block of class time on top of all the reading you did end up requiring of them in order to participate in the discussions. Only two days a week to allow for some leeway with the readings on top of the other responsibilities you were all to familiar with. You had explained to Ellie once her application had been switched over from pending to accepted.

You did miss the social aspect of working at the restaurant, the different foods and drinks you could try on a whim, the ability to get as much or as little human interaction as you wanted. But…you had made a choice to leave it behind. For good. Focusing finally on the things that you wanted to do for the rest of your life and a plethora of memories and stories of a time now past.

And Joel….you missed Joel.

But you were stubborn, sure that the man wanted to wash his hands of you after never getting a response.

Ellie was banging her head along to the tape that had been stuck in the trucks deck for years now. An old one from your childhood, one of the only things you father had intentionally gifted you. His love of music something you shared despite the rift and space created between you both. Your birthday up until you moved resulting in a gift card to the local record shop and a few tapes or CDs he wanted to share with you.

The younger girl belted out the lyrics, the loose strands of her hair whipping around from the cracked windows. You sang along with her, though not as loud, indulging her despite the ache that had settled in your bones. Having overthought yourself into a weird mood before class.

Suddenly the music faltered before the warbling completely as the ribbon inside began to loosen from the spool and hang out from the deck.

“Shit, that’s not good.” Ellie lamented as she reached forward to push the play button in to pause the music. She hit the ejection button and carefully pulled the tape from the mouth of the player. Her charcoal stained fingers spinning the spools one at a time to wind the ribbon back where it should be. A few moments later and she was reloading it and pushing play but the speakers only crackled before the tape ejected itself.

“Damn, it died.”

You didn’t say anything, thoughts a whirlwind as you panicked over loosing the last tangible connection you had with your estranged father. If she picked up on your tense silence, Ellie didn’t comment on it, leaving the tape hang half out the deck and moving to use the radio for the remainder of the ride.  

The house looked the same, Joel’s house, nestled to the side of a small cul-de-sac. The neighborhood calm and quiet in the early afternoon.

The graying curls you would recognize anywhere peaked from where Ellie’s care was being inspected by Joel laid out on a roller underneath the carriage. The hood was propped open and a giant tool storage cabinet had been wheeled closer to the opening of the garage. She bounded up to him, talking too fast for you to make anything out from the curb.

But Joel must’ve been able to decipher at least some of it because his gaze turned to you, oil staining one of his cheeks and his chest puffing up with a deep breath.

You felt your own breath catch low in your throat, a lump of air making it hard to breathe.

You drove off with your heart hammering in your chest.

It was now February, the dreaded holiday of the month approaching and your birthday right along with it. A shame, that such a day overshadowed any plans you had once made. The holiday taking precedent with prefix menus that brought in generous tips from happy couples and friends. But this year, this year you could do whatever you wanted.

Stay in, go out, order takeaway, drown yourself in fancy truffles. Whatever you wanted. But the weight in your heart didn’t have you all too keen for the day to arrive. Wondering what Joel had decided for his special menu, the drinks Millie worked with Mary on to pair alongside it. Maybe….maybe you could snag a seat at the bar and indulge?

You let the thoughts trail off and focused on grading the papers in front of you. Needing to get them done before your attention was pulled by a movie night with your friends.

You were up at exactly one minute before the clock stuck midnight. Bleary eyes watching the progression of the last sixty seconds before it was officially your birthday. Your phone buzzed with two texts immediately, all camps too much to handle in the early hour. Turning it to silent mode, you turned over and listened to the faint sounds of Sweet Pea playing with a bell down in the living room, hoping sleep would come back to you.

Waking up for a second time was a whirlwind, snooze allowing for you to sleep in until the absolute last minute before you had to get up. Shoving the tube of fabric that was a simple, off the shoulder dress over your head and fluffing up your hair with dry shampoo and you were out the door and headed to the campus.

“Alright, everyone, since I’m feelin’ a little generous today!” You clapped your hands once, noticing Ellie slink in at the last minute before you typically announced the beginning of class. “I’m gonna play a documentary for today- but!”

You interrupted the happy chuckles from the group of about thirty or so individuals you had interviewed and approved for your program. “I will need a paper on the methods used to help identify the remains and artifacts, with your general interpretation of the cultural basis hypothesized from them due next class!”

“Professor, c’mon. It’s my birthday, it’s your birthday: let’s all just take it easy.”

A chorus of, “Is it really your birthday?! Why didn’t you tell us!” rang out across the room. Certain individuals looking genuinely upset that they had missed out on a chance to let you know how much they appreciated you and liked you. It made the ache in your heart lighten just a bit, weird mood about the day waning slightly in their unabashed openness. Ellie was oddly silent, normally one to engage loudly and enthusiastically, her phone in her hand, fingers a blur as she fiddled with it.

“If you really want to do something for me, please, concentrate on the documentary!” You turned your back to the class, booting up the video on your laptop and tugging down the projector screen that was closed and stored up above the whiteboard. Turning the lights off, save for one in the back for them to take notes with, you pressed play and offered one last tidbit before the opening credits rolled, “But it doesn’t hurt to bring a gift card for any local coffee shops.”

“Need a ride today, Ellie?” You asked the lingering girl, slow to pack her bag up once the class had ended and hesitant to disembark from the campus altogether. Her car was in the shop, something needing repair that was beyond Joel’s skill set. As well as a new set of tires they were waiting on to get delivered before installing them. The ones she had for the more intense weather seasons of Boston worn down over the years and needed replacing. You didn’t mind totting the younger girl around, offering her help with proof reading papers and going over terms that didn’t easily stick. Talking about nothing in particular, though Joel had been diligently inside the house or away each time you dropped her off at home, no more awkward glances since your little display of speeding off the first time.

“Was gonna offer to get you a coffee,” She wouldn’t look directly at you, setting you on edge. You were about to ask her if everything was okay when she suddenly swung her bag on her shoulder and faced you. “I’m helping at the restaurant today, assumed you wouldn’t be cool with dropping me off there.”

An hour later, you were both loaded in the car with too expensive coffee drinks and pulling up to the front of the restaurant. You didn’t want to test if you had clearance to park in the employee lot, not sure what would hurt more. The denial of your code beeping or the approval of your code chirping and opening the gate. Sighing, you put shifted into park and let the engine idle.

Ellie seamed to be taking her sweet time once again. Moving slow to collect her things, having hesitantly showed you the project she was working on for one of her art courses. The bell above the front entrance sounded as the door opened and your head snapped up to see Joel walk through it. He paused, holding the door open beside him as he gave a small wave to Ellie and a somber nod to you.

Yous lips lifted at the corners as you noticed the stain of what had to be beets on his otherwise pristine apron, the white of it displaying the dark red in a disturbing way. His other hand was behind his back, shrouded in the shadows of the interior. He shared a hushed work with Ellie as she finally exited the truck and slinked past him with a last wave toward you.

But Joel didn’t follow her inside.

He stepped outside completely. The door closing behind him with a soft thump.

He was walking toward the truck, the passenger window down all the way as Ellie relished in the fresh air before knowing she wouldn’t leave until well past midnight after the rush of the holiday. 

Your fingers dug into the skin of your thighs, dress having ridden up during the drive to expose the tops of them. The sun warm on them as your nails made crescent shapes in their softness, making your anxiety for the world to see. You were otherwise frozen, unsure of what to say, how to talk. He looked so good. Longer hair slicked back, sliver glinting in the sunlight at his temples and in the scruff of his face. A vaguely heart shaped patch where it didn’t grow in too tempting of a sight as you recalled the way it felt to pepper kisses there.

Joel’s eyes flickered down to your mouth as your tongue swiped out to wet your suddenly dry bottom one, his hidden hand finally shifting from behind his back.

You couldn’t help the little gasp that pushed from your chest as a boquet of flowers was revealed to be in his grip.

The colors of it shades of orange, gold, and yellow. A mix of chrysanthemums, sunflowers, and peonies all wrapped in a delicate tissue paper with a white ribbon holding it all together. In the middle of the front of it, there was something shiny.

“Thought it was an emergency, when she started blowing up my phone a few hours ago.” He finally spoke, stepping off the curb and up to the passenger side of the car. He extended the bouquet to you, hiding his face from you for a moment. You were able to make out the shiny thing in the middle.

It was a copy of the tape that had died the first time you had given Ellie a ride home. The one you couldn’t find anywhere online. The one you had almost just ordered a CD or digital version of. The one you had almost reached out to your father to ask about. It was impossible to find, to replace. But it was there, in the middle of a beautiful arrangement of flowers.

A sob suddenly wracked through your body, hands coming up to cup your chin and hold any others in as fat tears fell hot from your eyes.

“Oh no, no – this – this was supposed t’make you smile, darlin’, not burst into tears.” Joel quickly lowered it, moving it out of view of the windows frame and pulling it back behind him. “I’m so sorry, I – I was just trying to do somethin’ nice for ya on your special day.”

You hiccupped as you reached out a hand in a weak wave, wiping at your cheeks with the other.

“No, Joel, it’s…it’s really sweet of you to do this. I just…I don’t deserve it.”

“Of course you do, you deserve everythin’, darlin’.” He reached through the open window and gently placed the bouquet down on the passenger seat. Molasses eyes catching yours as he offered you a weak smile and a nervous display of his fingers slinking his hair back. “Just wanted to do somethin’ for you today. I didn’t know last year and well, this year I do.”

“Joel…”

“Don’t need anything from you, really. They’re for you and that’s that.” He shuffled on his feet, watching as the breeze ruffled your loose hair and the fabric of your dress, sleeves flowing in the wind, the shine of your necklace in the sunshine.

“Thank you, really. I- I appreciate it.” You reached over to tug the cassette from its secure spot. Turning it over in your hands, taking in the scratches on the plastic of the case. The memory of looking over the massive collection he had displayed in one of the guest rooms, the small shelving unit he had made himself to store all the tapes he had previously kept in boxes in the garage. “Joel, this is from your collection, I can’t-“

“You can ‘n I wanted to. Ellie told me yours got ate and I don’t listen to the tapes much these days, just the vinyl.”

Voice gone and heart beating fast, you nodded. Feeling the urge to lean over and pull him into the truck to drive around for hours and listen to the reverent offering in your hands. But he had a holiday menu to get back to and you had a new recipe to try out. Each on their own and in different worlds.

He patted the window sill twice with a wide palm before he was turning away and disappearing back inside. You watched him go, heart urging you to call out to him while your mind told you it wouldn’t ever be that simple again.

Friends had come and gone, sharing dinner and gifts with you. Crappy movies and good liquor, laughs abundant and feelings so alive. The kind of day that reminded you that you were alive and well. The kind of day that made everything else worth it, small moments tiding you over until you could feel like full and bright again.

You stared at the flowers until the alcohol in your system blurred them, the colors running together and dimming as sleep pulled you under in the late hour. The tape playing through to the end before the machine finally shut off, blanketing you in your passed out state.

You would stare at them, as if they were pulling your attention every time you were in the kitchen or the living room. Choosing to hide away in your office or upstairs when you were home where they were out of site. When they began to wilt and dry up, you moved them to the back patio, not able to through them out but not able to reach out to the man who had gifted them to you.  

Finally removing them from the vase and cleaning it out. You bagged them up and left them on the counter to deal with after class. One that went by in the blink of an eye, almost like the day was rushing toward something. Rushing you toward something. The slow thrum of…something deep in your bones as you engaged in the discussion, leading it back to the focal point if it got too off tangent.

The routine of giving Ellie a ride one that hadn’t been prevalent lately since her car had been fixed and the end of the semester rolled around. But today it seemed to be one of the things that time was ushering you toward. Driving Ellie home with post class treat of milkshakes this time, the weather beginning to inch toward the dry heat that was prevalent most of the year.

“Thanks again! See you Thursday, professor!” Ellie hollered over her shoulder as she all but tore out your truck and ran towards the front door. By passing the scene of Joel stood in the driveway, garage open behind him once again.

“I better! You have a final!” You hollered after her, no real malice in your voice.  

She whizzed past Joel who was stood at the front of her car, hood open and engine block exposed to his perplexed expression. His hands were on his hips, a wrench in one and a screwdriver in the other. He was looking down into the exposed parts with a look you couldn’t quite read from the curb but when he spotted Ellie he called after her.

“Babygirl, I don’t see anything wrong with it. You said it was making a rattling sound, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah! A rattling sound.”

“From…where, exactly?” He turned a furrowed brow to her but she was determined to get away from his prying gaze, scurrying off without any more words. Her bag thumping against her shoulders as she rushed toward the door.

You had been so focused on watching her nearly trip over the steps leading to the front door that you didn’t notice Joel rise from his spot tinkering with something on her car and approach the side of yours.

“Hey there,” His cautious voice greeted you too close through the open window.

“Oh jesus, fuck! Joel don’t do that!” You startled so bad the seatbelt locked up and tightened around you, preventing you from taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

“Shit, sorry. Thought you saw me comin’ over.” A sheepish rub of his hand along the back of his neck, had your eyes roaming over the picture he made in the frame of the open window. Perfectly fitted, as if he should be on the inside of the truck beside you instead of standing outside of it. Close, but not close enough.

Quiet fell over the both of you, Joel looking into the cab of the truck, grease and oil marring his beautiful skin and white t-shirt and you gazing just to the right of him, not able to directly do so now that his attention was focused. The words shared between you both, all of the good, all of the bad, and all of the confusing floating in the heavy air between two people who had lived far too much in such a short amount of time. Echoes of everything passing in the charged air between you both.

Your name being uttered had your eyes glancing at his, the sun lighting them up into a bright hue and your heart fluttered in your chest. You held his gaze for a few seconds, heat creeping up your neck from the pulse of warmth that only he could cause filling your chest.

“Alright, well…thanks for bringing Ellie home.” He reached a handout to pat the side of the truck before shoving away.

“Hey, Joel, wait…” You leaned over, hoping that the words in your throat didn’t get stuck. When he turned quickly back to you, there was a hopeful pinch to his features, lips pursed as he waited with bated breath for you to continue. Taking a deep breath, you locked eyes with him again, keeping up the connection. The hope that glinted in them helped the words to flow from you in a quick push.

“Do, um, do you want to grab a coffee sometime?”

previous chapter || end

taglist: @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker @clevergirl74 @anavatazes @samiamproductions @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute @sarap-77

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

[gffa]

If the batfamily were in the gffa, which ones of them do you think would have been jedis? How quickly do you think they would have joined the nascent rebellion?

Absolutely NONE of them would have been Jedi, I say with all fondness towards the Batfam, but they are emotional hot messes, every single one of them, and to be a Jedi you literally have to have your emotional shit together, that's straight up how the Force works. You cannot act out of anger or fear without slinking towards the dark side, the Force will throw all that right back in your face, and I don't think there's a single Batfam member that doesn't consistently act out of a place of anger. Bruce - My guy can't even keep it together without a psychic energy field in his brain that resonates with his emotional well-being, he would fall to the dark side inside a month. I love him, but he already thinks he has things under control in his brain that he very much does not, he is the definition of being created by fear of loss and the anger that results from it. Dick - My Blorbo may be the definition of hope and light in the DC universe, the most trusted hero right after Superman, but he absolutely has anger issues that he just kind of ignores. Psychics in the DC universe have tried to invade his mind and come out like, "Jesus fuck why is that guy's mind so terrifying!?" because, while Dick chooses kindness and love, he was also forged in anger at the injustices in the world. Jason - Sweet babygirl doesn't even know what he wants, I tend to see Jason as often times deeply contradictory because I'm not sure he knows how he feels about things, does he want to be part of his family or does he want to walk away from them, he wants their love, but he can't tolerate their love, he thinks everyone expects the worst from him and is angry ahead of time, because he's so deeply insecure about his place in the world and in his family, and the injustices of his life are ones that still haunt him, the Joker killing him and still getting to run around would drive him into anger, fear, and despair just as much as anyone. Tim - My guy is ready to tell anyone and everyone to fuck the fuck off at the drop of a hat, that he's often times the one trying to pull everyone back together, but he also is still haunted by the death of his parents, he's still unsure of his relationship with Bruce at times, when things get back and he loses a little too much in his life, he starts pushing people away, he pushed Dick and Steph away while Bruce was dead, he obsessed over bringing Kon back as a way to cope, rather than actually letting go of his hurts, that guy seems fairly even keel sometimes, but, no, he's a hot mess who would have the Force throwing all that back in his face, too. Damian - Baby bat is so insecure in a lot of ways, because he doesn't always know how to relate to his father, he doesn't know how to be a complement to Bruce the way the other Robins did, they're both brooders, they're both the kind who wear their anger on their sleeves, and have a core fear of loss that would have the dark side hissing in their ears. Barbara - In some ways, Babs is more emotionally stable than the others, but in other ways, she is JUST as unhinged as they are, her fury at the Joker is still lingering all around her heart, she still explodes in anger when something pisses her off, she's still a little afraid of commitment because she's scared to open herself up, she still has to deal with her spinal implant not being perfect, Babs probably has a stronger sense of what her problems are, but it's not like she does anything about them half the time. Cassandra - I think she still feels too much guilt about her past, even if none of it was her fault, but that she can't let go of that pain, and it's not just "bad" anger/fear that draws you to the dark side, it's also "good" anger/fear that lures you there, too. And Cass deals with a lot of that and, while I think she'd probably have the best chance of any of them at making it as a Jedi, she does still have a lot of issues that the Force would be throwing back in her face.

Stephanie - I'd give her the second best chance, she at least sometimes recognizes her fears and says, yeah, I'm afraid, I'm just not going to let it stop me. Steph has as much anger and need to punch the world as any of them do, but I think she might have a chance at changing up her thought patterns enough to make it. Duke - Hmm, I'm not sure I've read enough with Duke yet to tell what his underlying issues are and how much he's dealt with them. He seems fairly stable and willing to back off when he needs to, but in general, if you're a Bat, you've probably got some real anger to work on. Kate - Everything I've read of Kate is definitely "wants to punch things in the face" or "feels torn up about her relationships with people" and that she's not really interested in not being those things. Alfred - It depends on how you view him, I guess. If you see him as someone who has made peace with the lives his family has chosen and willing to understand that they are who they are, then I could see Alfred as a Jedi. But if you lean into the idea of a British Stiff Upper Lip where he just doesn't talk about the anguish he goes through seeing his family get hurt night after night, knowing he can't stop them, then no he would be a terrible Jedi. In short: THEY WOULD ALL SUCK AS JEDI, but they would definitely have started their own Rebel cell even before Bail and Mon and Leia started connecting the various individual groups together!

[skellymom]

"SMASH AND GRAB"

"THE BAD BATCH FEM READER X HUNTER/ECHO ACTION/ANGST FAN FIC"

Angsty angst between the reader (mildly Force sensitive/empath-nothing super powerful), a lover and a friend regarding the fate of the squad. Someone needs to listen and realize there is more than one future for Clone FAMILY 99.

BE PUNK.  DO CRIME.  FIGHT FACISM. 

Background: Love is hard and I wanted to capture a relationship that is trying to survive in a time of chaos and oppression. Where nothing is a sure bet, and the thought of losing loved ones is terrifying and a real possibility. How long can CF99 stay hidden on Ord Mantell? The reader experiences a sense of dread that their sanctuary may not last long.

...with a little Punk shenanigans thrown in to show the Fascists just WHO they are kriffin' around with!

Y'all, this started as a fun romp in Punk Crime...then got REAL deep. Couldn't help the word count. The story just kind wrote itself.

Note: This story hints at a possible LOVE TRIANGLE. Not extremely apparent. But those of you who code Hunter as "The Boyfriend" and code Echo as "The Close Friend" might see it. Also, Passion and Practicality as dramatic opposites.

Those of you who wish to NOT SEE A LOVE TRIANGLE. Please just read this dynamic as a caring lover vs a caring friend. Hopefully it's ambiguous enough for EVERYONE.

People who aren't particularly fond of Hunter's character arc while on Ord Mantell during S2 of the actual series will LOVE that I pick on him a bit in this fic.

Word Count: 3.5K

WARNING: Star Wars Canon Violence, someone is stabbed in shoulder w/no mention of blood, blood smear on a bottle, fear, angst, maybe mild swearing, briefly implied sex in one sentence.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

“Aww...” Omega kicked the dirt and hung her head...twisting the pendant around her neck. 

“Sorry kiddo.  We just...don’t have the credits.”  I shrugged feeling defeated. 

She gave one last glance at the chocolate bar, nodded and shuffled off to the next vendor’s stand. 

“Hey.”  Getting the attention of the vendor who owned the stand.  “Would you take 2 credits instead of 3?  For the kid??”  Pointing in Omega’s direction.   

It was worth a try. 

“Come back when ya got the credits...or DON’T come back AT ALL!”  The vendor waved me away from their stand.’ 

“Geez, you don’t have to be so RUDE about it!”  I shot back as I left to catch up with Omega. 

The vendor yelled after me “YOU PEOPLE...always wanting a handout!  Glad the Empire is cleaning up the planets in this system.  SICK OF YOUR KIND!” 

I waved back to him with a very specific hand signal... 

Being poor sucks. 

We’ve been scraping by since working for Cid on Ord Mantell.  Hunter and I have been talking about taking the squad and bailing soon... 

...after the NEXT job. 

We’ve been talking about this for a while.  But it’s always about the NEXT job...even if that was the last job we just did. 

He’s scared to leave and face the unknown.   

It’s the devil he knows.  And, somehow, it’s a kind of unfavorable comfort. 

But I HATE that Cid holds shit over our heads constantly. 

It’s making me seethe.  Making me resent my scared lover a bit.  And it breaks my heart that Omega can’t be a child... 

If Crosshair was here, he’d have set shit straight right away... 

But The Empire took him away from us. 

Echo agrees with me and tries to reason with Hunter. 

Tech gets sidetracked with everything going on. 

Wrecker, ever the supportive sibling goes along for the ride. 

Omega falls in with them too.  It’s all an adventure for her... 

Until it’s not.  And, I’m worried that’s going to be very soon. 

I can feel it.   

Every day SOMETHING is getting closer. 

And, I itch to escape this planet.   

But I WON’T go without them.  Life is nothing without them ALL. 

My opinion: We ALL can do better somewhere else.  Somewhere that WON’T have us living hand to mouth. 

But we MUST leave Ord Mantell. Or we’ll never know what the future might hold for us. 

ANOTHER mission for Cid.  And this one requiring that I and Omega stay behind for “safety reasons.” 

Hunter’s words, not mine. 

And this time Echo spoke up “The fact that we are leaving them behind means it’s time for us to terminate Cid’s employ.” 

“Where would we go?  Cid was YOUR contact, remember.”  Hunter shot back. 

Echo nodded across the room to me “She can FEEL it.  I believe her that we don’t have much time left.  Can’t you feel it too???” 

Hunter sat down wearily and sighed.  “EVERYTHING has been a blur since losing Crosshair...”  Putting his hand to his brow “Been missing a LOT lately.” 

Omega is sitting next to me.  I can see the panic in her eyes.  “Why are they arguing?” 

“Because they love us.  And, making decisions for the ones you love is difficult.”  I didn’t want to tell Omega that these men who normally have such a close camaraderie are only openly arguing because they are AFRAID.  The dynamic in our squad is starting to break down.  She’s seen and been through enough.  I try to shield her from what I can when I can. 

Tech and Wrecker weighed in on the situation...which now REALLY doesn’t help. 

Their voices rose higher.  I don’t hear the words anymore.  Just FEEL the emotions behind them: accusations, defensiveness, declarations to fight the Empire, plans to score big one last time and retire for good... 

I can’t sit here anymore.  Gently took Omega’s hand, leading her out of Cid’s Parlor with the lure of a “window shopping” to blow off steam.  Basically poor-person's shopping. 

She stops at the doorway, looking up at me.  So many emotions on her face.  “Shouldn't we tell them where we’re going?”  Omega remembers the last time she stepped out without checking in. 

I survey the loud debate between four grown men...four grown men who are scared, unsure boys who never had to live this way before.  My heart went out to every one of them.  I tried to tell them, to contribute to this discussion...so many times.  But they defer to two polar opposites with nothing in-between: 

Stay and keep working for Cid, hoping to eventually get ahead...then go retire on some fictional planet with a slim hope the Empire will never find us. 

Or, leave Ord Mantell forever and fly away with false fantasies of a battle leading to victory while heading right into the belly of the BEAST. 

“They won’t notice.”  It wasn’t the best answer...but I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.  “We’ll be back before then...” 

Omega, not totally buying my reply, still relented... 

But not without an unsure glance behind her at her brother’s grousing. 

Apparently...they DID notice. 

“Just where did you both go???”  Hunters concerned and frustrated face met us as we descended the stairs. 

I could see Echo across the room sitting at the bar “pretending” not to pay attention to our conversation. 

“Omega and I wanted to skip the big multi-person argument.” I cooly clapped back. 

He relaxed after seeing Omega with a big smile on her face. 

Then tensed up after she told him why she’s smiling:   

“Hunter, I met a Wino tonight.  He smells funny, but he does fantastic magic tricks!” 

Then she skipped away to see what Tech had on his datapad.  Wrecker handed her a fizzy kiddy beverage dressed up with a slice of Meileroon on the rim. 

Hunter gave me a... face.  The kind he gives me when I have some explaining to do. 

“What?” 

He sighed. 

“Please use your words.” 

“Ok.  DON’T leave without telling us where you are going.  Double if Omega is with you.” 

“Sure thing, Sergeant.” Then I turned and walked away.  Settling in the furthest corner of the bar to be alone. 

Hunter shook his head and scoffed.  Strolled defeatedly back to the bar, then gave Tech a slight bump on the shoulder.  Tech immediately slid off the stool and followed Hunter into Cid’s empty office...and shut the door. 

I leaned back into the sofa and closed my eyes.  I felt so exhausted... 

A few minutes later a warm hand patted my shoulder.  I opened my eyes. 

Echo set down a drink on the table beside me.  “Glad you and Omega are back.  We get worried sometimes.  Things are getting...complicated and dangerous.  He’s...WE are ALL looking out for you both.” 

He walked away and entered Cid’s office, closing the door behind him. 

Kriff...they DEFINITELY are planning ANOTHER mission... 

Put it all out of my mind and settled in to watch Wrecker and Omega play several rounds of “KABOOM!”  It’s a chaotic card game Wrecker made up to keep Omega busy.  She loves Dejarik, but Wrecker tires of it easily.  KABOOM! is really an old card deck CF99 has carried with them forever, and Wrecker has scrawled writing all over them with his own “game script.” 

“KABOOM!” Omega yells after she picks a particular marked card.  Then throws her hand up into the air to symbolize an explosion... 

Kaboom indeed...hopefully not us and not anytime soon...but the cards will fall wherever they may...I have no control over them. 

“Hey...” Smoky whisper in my ear. 

I open my eyes and see Hunter hovering over me.  His eyes are soft and loving while he runs his fingers though my hair.  I’m covered with a blanket and there’s a pillow under my head.  The game room is empty, silent, and dark. 

“How long have I been out?” 

“Couple hours.”  Then he plants a kiss on my forehead.  “Apologies for earlier today.” 

“Accepted.  I could have handled that interaction better myself...” 

“No...I’ve...got to get my shit together.”   

“I won’t argue with that.” I snicker. 

He smiles.  It’s been SO long since I’ve seen him do that.  My heart aches for a time before this one...a simpler time for all of us. 

His expression switches to a forlorn one... 

“You’re leaving soon...” 

“Yes.  But I promise it’s the LAST mission for Cid.  EVER.” 

“I recall you’ve said that before.” I grumped, attempting to get up from the couch. 

“But this time I MEAN it.”  He grabs my hand and I stop. 

He drops something cold into my palm and the chain it’s attached to trails out of his hand.  Then he cups his hand affectionately under mine. 

It’s a necklace.  The pendant a shard of deep green meteorite Hunter and I had witnessed impacting a planet when we first kissed.  How’s that for symbolism?  When it finally cooled, he snuck back to the site, fishing it out and surprised me with this as a gift.  Carried in my pockets for forever...until recently I thought it had been lost.   

“You got sneaky there, Bandana.” 

“Tech set it so you can wear it.  It’s made of the metal that doesn’t irritate your skin...that doesn’t sound very romantic...does it?”  Hunter grimaced. 

I snort and it elicits a chuckle from him.  “For most people, probably not.  But I deeply appreciate the gesture.  Also, the practicality.  Thanks.”  His words may falter, but I can FEEL the intensity of his emotions in this moment.  The depth of his affection and devotion. 

He lovingly takes the necklace from my hand and clasps it around my neck.  I lift the blanket and Hunter crawls in next to me on the sofa. 

“I love you so much Y/N. Have a hard time showing it sometimes...please understand I just want the best for us...” 

I shush him with my finger to his lips.  “I love you too, Hunter...and I struggle in the same way.  Let’s call a truce...for tonight.” 

He nods and I kiss him...kiss him with all the fire and passion that I cannot say with words.  He answers my love language in kind.  We heat up that sofa like nothing it’s ever seen before. 

That fateful day I’ve been worried about finally came... 

An Imperial Class Venator loomed over the city. 

So large, it blocked out part of the sun. 

White armored stormtroopers, dispatched to the planet swarmed Ord Mantell.  They kicked in doors and terrorized the locals. 

Were they searching for us?  Or just taking over the planet, like so many others in the galaxy? 

“Havoc 1, do you copy?” Echo tries to comm Hunter... 

Nothing. 

“Empire is jamming all ground communications.” He sneered. 

Omega and I sat crouched across from Echo under a vendor table.  The tablecloth kept us hidden. 

Today was our day to shop for supplies.  Of course, Echo tagged along.  If Hunter wasn’t with us, it would always be Echo.     

I was already a bundle of nerves that my “bad feeling” came true.  Echo’s presence helped me keep it hidden around Omega. 

“Oh NO!”  Omega started to fret.  “Maybe they’ve been captured?  How will they find us?  We’ll be separated!” The fear rising in her voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 

I put my arm around her, giving a firm squeeze.  “Don’t worry, Hunter and Tech probably got it under control.  And Wrecker will smash heads.” 

“Yeah, kiddo what Y/N said.”  Echo put a calm face on it.  

He knew something I didn’t...I could FEEL it. 

“We need to get to them!” Omega whispered 

“No Havoc 5.  We’re sitting tight.  They’ll find us.”  Echo winked. 

He DID know something... 

“Out with it, Echo.” 

“What?” His expression innocent. 

“What do YOU know that Omega and I don’t?” 

“Nothing...” Smiling with that shit eating grin if his.  Sassy, yet charming. 

Omega and I glance at one another.  Then glare at Echo. 

“Hey, I was sworn to secrecy.”  His expression turned from mild to hardened soldier as the sound of marching feet rounded the corner of the vendor’s square. 

Echo silently pulled his weapon...having it on the ready. 

They stopped next to our table. 

“FREEZE Civilian!  Come out with your hands up!!!” 

All three of us froze, staring at one another. 

Echo had a look...like he was ready to kill whoever was out there... 

Omega put both hands over her mouth.  Her eyes wide in abject fear. 

I squeezed her closer to me... 

The trooper violently kicked over the table... 

...next to us. 

A man’s scream rang out and continued to do so as they beat and kicked him. 

We recognized the voice.  It was the local street wino.  Nice man...just liked his Spotchka a bit TOO much. 

“Evading Emperial soldiers is a crime Civilian...so is stealing.” 

The wino’s bottle of unopened Spotchka rolled under the table, stopping to rest against my knee... 

...blood smeared across it. 

A trooper’s hand groped under the tablecloth for the bottle. 

Omega mewled in terror quietly behind her hands.  

Echo readjusted the grip on his weapon. 

I silently pulled the small vibro dagger from my belt... 

...hovering it over the groping hand. 

“LEAVE IT!”  Another trooper barked at the one reaching for the bottle. 

“I’VE ALMOST GOT IT!”  He crankily barked back. 

The hand hovered over the bottle... 

Then suddenly gripped my leg and yanked me out from under the table! 

The trooper seemed shocked at what he pulled out.  He crouched there staring dumbly at me.  I lay in the dust stunned... 

...for a split second... 

Then I viciously stabbed him in the shoulder. 

The trooper screamed.  Echo knocked the table over and opened fired on the rest of the Imps.  He laid them all to rest efficiently. 

But our cover was blown. 

I pulled my dagger from the dead trooper, sheathing it. 

The wino, bloody and battered, staggered to his feet. 

“THERE THEY ARE!!!” 

All of us turned to see the vendor from the other day pointing in our direction.  He was standing at his stall with a HUGE satisfied grin on his face. 

More imps passed him running toward us.  The wino found his feet and fled quickly from the scene. 

To add insult to injury, the vendor felt the need to keep speaking... 

“WARNED YOU THE EMPIRE IS CLEANING UP THE GALAXY!  YOU PEOPLE DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE...” 

The roar of an engine overhead thankfully drowned out the rest. 

Tech fired the Marauder’s cannons into the crowd of Imps, decimating them.  Then swooped in lower to pick us up. 

Echo grabbed Omega’s hand, and before she could be whisked away, she pushed something cold and hard into my hand... 

The bottle of Spotchka...opened...with a strip of the torn tablecloth stuffed into it... 

A makeshift wick. 

Did I mention how much I LOVE THAT LITTLE HOOLIGAN! 

The vendor locked eyes with me.  His hateful stare...all the horrible things he said to us while on Ord Mantell...his lack of empathy for our plight...his open contempt for the poor...outcasts...those that don’t fit into HIS version of society...his alliance with The Empire...the unyielding hand of power beating down EVERYONE in the galaxy... 

RIGHTOUS ANGER welled up within me... 

We kept eye contact as I calmly pulled the small torch from my belt. 

And lit the wick. 

Then smiled at that kriffing piece of Bantha waste. 

The haughty expression left his face damned quick...and he turned tail and ran. 

I chucked that Flaming Bottle of Rebellion as hard as I possibly could and ran towards the ship.  The explosion rang out as I reached the Marauder, pushing me backwards onto the gangplank. 

All manner of debris rained down from the sky. 

And... for some STRANGE reason, I reached out to catch one particular piece... 

...just a FEELING...a hunch...some random, strange reflex...no thinking involved whatsoever... 

My arms enclosed around it...as it slammed squarely into my midsection, knocking the wind out of me... 

I gasped for air... 

Barely registering Hunter reaching out and yanking me into the Marauder... 

The flight away from Ord Mantell was ROCKY with extremely heavy space traffic! 

Tech navigated through all manner of passenger and cargo ships around the planet trying to escape being captured by the Empire.  Echo at his side assisting with hyperspace jump codes. 

Just the thing we needed to get away undetected...for now. 

Hunter rubbed my back as I struggled to breathe.  Finally, I got my wind back, then looked down at what hit me in the gut. 

A FULL unopened box of exported Coruscant designer chocolate bars. 

“Huh...sometimes that Force stuff really does work out.”  I muttered.  “OMEGA!” 

She ran over. 

"Here ya go, kiddo.”  Handing her the whole box.  “Btw...thanks for the Spotchka Cocktail.” 

She smiled like a fox in an Endorian henhouse and ran away with the box.  I could hear Wrecker’s excited voice as he helped her open it. 

I gently fell back and relaxed against Hunter’s chest, exhaling away all the stress. 

He put his arms around me, inhaling the scent of my hair. 

“Hey?” 

“Hmmm?”  He hummed into my hair. 

“How did you know EXACTLY where we were?” 

His hand slowly snaked up and tapped the keepsake necklace around my neck. 

“You...have a TRACKER on...ME???”  I glanced over to the necklace around Omega’s neck. 

“Uh huh.” Tracing a heart shape slowly against the skin of my chest. 

He didn’t even have to look up from nuzzling my hair.  Hunter KNEW I understood Omega was also carrying one as well. 

I glanced across the Marauder to Echo. 

“YOU LITTLE MECHANICAL SHIT!” I teased. 

“Of course.  You wouldn’t expect anything less?”  He smirked, then swung his chair around to converse with Tech. 

“So...you put a bell and collar on us BOTH?” I addressed Hunter. 

“For safety reasons only.  Can’t have anything bad happening to our girls.”  He caressed my face.  “Originally it was only for Omega...you know...her wandering off problem.  Just couldn’t cope if we lost you both...” 

I sat up to turn around and face him.  Putting his face in my hands. 

“Hunter, we’re finally free from Cid and Ord Mantell.  But I’m upset it took something like THIS for us to leave.  I’ve been asking for MONTHS!” 

Behind me I could FEEL Echo turning his attention back to us.  FEEL him nodding in agreement with my statement.  Almost FEEL him thinking “We got lucky this time.” 

Hunter’s eyes flicked up to Echo, then back to me. 

“You’re BOTH right.  I’m sorry.  Bad at this civilian business.  I’ll do better in the future...we have one now.” 

“Except for the Empire...” Echo clapped back. 

Hunter’s eyes flicked back up to Echo.  He nodded, slight defeat on his face. 

“HUNTER.”  I implored.  His eyes focused back on me.  “PROMISE me we’ll stay off the radar for a while...and make our OWN way as much as possible.” 

“I promise.” 

“PROMISE that you will LISTEN to me when I give you my input about what I sense and think.  I’m an important part of this squad...oh let’s stop saying that...FAMILY! 

Hunter waited...I felt him SENSING that I wasn’t done speaking.  Was he finally getting his senses back??? 

“AND STOP STONEWALLING ME!  It’s disrespectful.  I’m a grown woman and your partner...hopefully for the long run...but it WON’T be if you don’t respect me and start having the harder conversations.” 

Ouch...I could see that cut deep.  What I said wasn’t hurtful.  Hunter was recognizing his mistake.   He was really listening to my brutal honesty.  

“And...STOP beating yourself up...that’s MY job!” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

I finished...and could FEEL the weight of several pairs of eyes on us.  Everyone else in the ship was watching my and Hunter’s interaction. 

Hunter and I met every pair of eyes in the place.  

“No arguing with her AT ALL!  She’s RIGHT.”  Echo smirked and turned back towards the Marauder's dash.   

"Agreed.”  Tech following suit. 

“Let’s let them work it out, eh?”  Wrecker put his hand on Omega’s shoulder.  

Ever astute, Omega nodded, then took her box of chocolates and went to the gunner’s loft with Wrecker. 

Hunter stared into my eyes with a clarity that I had only witnessed BEFORE our arrival to Ord Mantell “I’ve been neglecting you...and our relationship too.”  He sighed.  “If you would rather go off with Echo and run missions for the resistance, I wouldn't blame you.”  

“It’s true that I may not want to totally settle down on some back-alley planet.  But then, I’m certainly not ready to run off and wage war with a huge oppressive regime just yet, ok?  Maybe something in-between.  I’m not an all or nothing kind of gal.” 

Hunter nodded and glanced briefly at Echo again.  Then back to me. 

“It’s true...I DO love him.”  I revealed. 

Hunter’s face showed a very brief, very hurt micro expression. 

“But It’s true that I love YOU too.  And I love Omega, Wrecker, and Tech... I still love Crosshair...wherever he is.  I love you all so much sometimes it hurts.  Love you all so much, that I can’t leave you even though I could feel the Empire closing in on us...” 

“We don’t leave our own behind...” Hunter whispered. 

“Never.”  I answered.  “Let’s work on being a family that can come together and plan our future...ok?  If you and I DON’T plan our future, we won’t ever have one.  Does that answer your question?” 

“Completely.” Hunter’s voice cracked. 

I put my arms around Hunter and held him close.  

Then we quietly contemplated what the future would hold...and where we would go next. 

Not before catching Echo’s expression and FEELING the words behind it: 

You’re brave...and I’m very PROUD of you! 

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

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[nyctophiliq]

js saw this post idk where but it got me pondering

imagine u r in the underground n u get sent to do a lil investigative work around reckless cs yk why not

n so ur exploring n valeria catches u…

that’s it 🧍‍♀️🏃‍♀️

- 🐾

OKAY HERE ME OUT !!! i feel like she catches you and then is all mean about it, acts like she just "saved your life" because if her guards were to find you- they are told to shoot on sight, no matter who it was- if they didn't know the face, they were allowed to go guns blazing.

oh but then she is all so worked up, she is so happy to see you again because the last time she did wasn't nice. you arguing with her about money, friends, and goals that you guys didn't see eye to eye on. she just wants to make this time much sweeter again so she tries to hold you, take your hand and persued you to despite your differences there is nothing else holding you two back from making the best of your "visit". nobody would ever know that you had spent the night with her, in each others arms making love, just like before everything fell apart.

that is of course you have a relationship with her before this whole society vs underground thing blows up on the island, right?

BUT WHAT I LIKE BETTER is her not knowing you, commenting about how can the underground host such pretty faces like you. basically just being so intrigued by us that she starts falling for us, it's clearly strangers to enemies to lover ( I am a sucker for this type of shit for some ungodly reason ), and no matter how much she tries not to she just thinks about you all the time after you escape.

or if not escaping SHE LETS YOU GO BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO SEE YOU AGAIN, proposes that under different circumstances but she just can't say it directly to you so she hides it in some clever puzzle or makes it seem like she is making fun of you. but she thinks about you, maybe not all the time but whenever the alarms go off she hopes it's you, then when the guards shoot a kind of terrifying feeling washes her mood out.

i rambled a little...

[atla-confessions]

Hi, it's the Rozin anon. Crawled out from my w40k obsession back into my ATLA phase because of Roku's novel. I love that little twerp, what can I say to justify myself? (Sozin too, mwah *throws him into a blender*)

Came here to complain again. Shocker, I know. And I think I figured out why so little people actually took Rozin seriously and haven't reduced into a fandom joke, like 90% of the fandom did. It's because ATLA fans don't see Roku (and Sozin) as characters of their own too. They don't take them seriously and even had shown their clear dislike for the characters. It's understandable in Sozin's case. A bad guy, an imperialist, a traitor, a closeted bigot. But I, to this day, had never understood the hate surrounding Roku.

Seriously, what did this guy do? Left Sozin alone after threatening him? Killing Sozin would've brought disastrous consequences, because he is a fire lord who, presumably, has already earned nation's loyalty to him. Killing him would've caused so much pain in the ass to the future avatars as well. Besides, this is literally exactly what everyone's beloved Kyoshi did with her fire lord problem. "But Chin the-!" She literally didn't do anything until he came to her land. How many people had Chin's army killed before she stepped in? How many villages and towns had he pillaged before she stepped in? I know the avatar is a human and literally can't be an omnipresent beacon of justice, stopping evil no matter where it is, but... Come on, girl! Also, I don't care what you say, but, that's not murder. I played Ace Attorney, I can prove Kyoshi's innocence whatever she likes it/agrees with me or not.

The volcano death? Volcanoes are fucking terrifying, man! The Yellowstone Volcanoes used to give me NIGHTMARES when I was a kid. Often times, the lava is not even the worst part. The ash fall, which would lead to food shortage and therefore massive famine, the lava coming into contact with water producing toxic gases, the area being a hell on Earth in the foreseeable future, the earthquakes, the tsunamis! And Roku had to keep track of ALL OF THOSE THINGS AT THE SAME TIME. Even if people were already on the boats, they could still had been hit by a massive wave generated by another eruption. "But Aang-!" His volcano was on land and a bit smaller. Also he had to deal with only one. Roku had to deal with two at same time, that were in the close proximity with each other, all on the same small island. No wonder Sozin came to help.

And, okay. All of the points I mentioned had already been brought up by other people when defending Roku. But, now we finally have the Roku centric novels! Yay! Finally, Roku fans won't have to read dumb shit being said about their favorite charact-

Aaaaaand people are now freaking out over the leaks! I'm not going to spoil anything here, but just... Guys... Can we PLEASE not gatekeep fucking BENDING??? Your fave won't die or become irrelevant just because another character can do what they can. Maybe focus on something actually unique and important of theirs, like, idk, their personality??? Their relationship with other characters??? How pretty/sexy they are??

Anyway, I'm pissed off and now I'll go and draw young Roku in a cow print bikini. Femboy Roku agenda, idc anymore, I'm anon, what are you gonna do to me?

X

[tightjeansjavi]

Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Boston QZ: Part 13

“I can’t breathe”

Joel Miller x f!o/c

A/N: I couldn’t pick just one gif for this chapter 🫠 sorry, not sorry. Also, I support Joel Millers rights, and his wrongs.

Summary: 20 years have passed since out-break day. Joel hasn’t heard from his younger brother Tommy in 3 weeks. He’s terrified of the thought of losing the last member of his family. You’re afraid that you’re losing him entirely.

~word count: 5.8k~

Warnings: implied age gap, established relationship, so much fucking angst I’m so sorry. Swearing, mean! joel, protective! joel, dark! joel, possessive, joel!, violent actions have violent consequences! joel, fluff (if you squint and use a damn magnifying glass) gaslighting, arguing, brief mentions of death, graphic violence with a knife, feelings, emotions, anger, rage, (+18) minors dni !

Songs for this chapter:

“i can’t breathe” by Bea Miller

“Poison & Wine” by The Civil Wars

“exile” by T-Swift & Bon Iver

“As It Was” by Hozier

“Rage” by Samantha Margret

“I’m a Mess” by Ed Sheeran

“Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala

“How to disappear” by Lana Del Ray

“Arms Of A Stranger” by Niall Horan

“Till Forever Falls Apart” by Ashe, FINNEAS

Year 2023. 20 years after out-break day : Boston QZ

Joel Miller always struggled dealing with loss of any kind. It started with losing Sarah. The grief, anger, anguish he felt in the last moments he had with her while she faded in his arms. He didn’t want to go on after that. What the fuck was the point when the world had fucking ripped his baby girl from his arms. He struggled with the possibility of losing you. Seeing you nearly bleed out on the kitchen table, his hands stained with your blood. It was too fucking much. If you would have died that night, surely he would meet his end shortly after. He knew the feeling all too well.

For the past two years, shit had been pretty sweet. Almost, too sweet. You refused to let yourself get caught up in the possibility of things going south with Joel. You wanted to live in every fucking moment you had with him. Carefree, happy, in love. You knew deep down that this wouldn’t last. You would have been naive if you believed nothing would ever come between you and Joel. The fucked up world you lived in, and the horrors that existed within, would always be there. Haunting you.

You trusted Joel with your life. He had given no reason for you to not put your full devotion into him. In more ways than one, you had saved each other. That trust mattered so fucking much to you. You were loyal to a fault. It was your fatal flaw.

Joel had been contacting his brother frequently. Tommy was the last of Joel’s blood and he would be damned if he would end up losing him too. Joel didn’t like when he felt like he had no control over a situation. It drove him up a fucking wall, devoured him skin and flesh till only his brittle bones were left. The fear of losing those he loved deeply, was constantly on his mind.

Joel had not heard from Tommy in three weeks. Three fucking weeks. He went and checked with the radio guy everyday. It was the same response of “we’re talking to the tower everyday. Nothing from Tommy.” This was not good enough for Joel. He needed to know that his younger brother was safe, that he was alive and well. Why the fuck wasn’t he responding? His mind instantly went to the worst possible outcome; Tommy being dead. It’s all he could think about.

Today with him he brought freshly rolled cigarettes, carefully tucked away in his coat pocket. He wanted answers, and he intended to get them, one way or another. He wasted no time to cut the line of other QZ residents waiting to send their message out. He didn’t care. He found himself with his elbow leaning over a rusted metal shelf. His patience was growing thin as he stood there, looming. He had a habit of playing with his fingers, picking at the dry skin around his cuticles, till they would crack and bleed. You had taken notice that he was doing this frequently now.

When it was finally his turn, he wasted no time to walk over. Plopping down into the chair with a thud as he reached into his jacket pocket and slid over the rolled cigarettes, his elbow resting along the worn wood.

“Nothin? Is there any chance it’s comin’in at night? You’re sleepin, you miss it?” Joel asked.

“When I’m sleeping, Gabriela listens, or my son.” The man spoke as he lit the cigarette, tossing the lighter to the side as he took a short inhale. The tip of the cigarette burning bright orange. “If Tommy responded, we’d know.”

Joel didn’t like the answers he was receiving. Not one fuckin bit. There had to be more information, there just had to be.

“And you’re talkin’ to the tower?”

“Every day, Joel.”

Bullshit is what he thought.

“They gave him your message, they haven’t seen or heard from him since, and that’s it.”

Lies.

“It’s been three fuckin weeks. It’s never taken Tommy more than a day to respond. Do you get that? Cause i’m startin’ to think that you ain’t seein’ the problem here.”

The man sighed, leaning forward as he held the cigarette off to the side, the smoke billowing upwards. “Joel, I'm sure Tommy is alright.”

“Show me where the tower is.”

“Joel, you can’t be serious. The tower is in Wyoming. You’re a capable guy, but there are worse things than infected out there.”

“You think I don’t fuckin realize that?” He scoffed. Crossing his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching tightly as he ground his teeth together.

“There are raiders, there’s slavers…” He trailed off.

“But you’re “sure” Tommy’s okay? Joel asked, his brow raised.

“It’s, uh, it’s the Cody tower…Q-bar 4, but I don’t know exactly–”

Joel was already up from his chair and leaving. He got the information he needed, now to devise a plan, leave the QZ, and find Tommy.

___________

Joel had no plan. No fuckin clue how he was going to get to Wyoming, but he would be damned if he didnt try. He was well aware that he wasn’t spending a lot of time with you these days. You both were working shit FEDRA jobs. Different hours, and by the time either of you would make it home, you both were too exhausted to speak.

You had known for the past few weeks that something was up with Joel. You didn’t want to pry, or make him feel like he had to tell you what was bothering him. You wanted him to come to you, tell you himself exactly what was going on. You couldn’t deny the fact that not knowing what was going on, was hurting you. It felt like he was purposely pushing you away. You didn't want to assume the worst of your lover, but it was hard not to when he was stumbling in hours past curfew, piss drunk. He would sleep with his back facing you. You wondered if this was exactly the way Tess had felt when she realized she was losing him.

You were barely sleeping most nights. Always waiting up for him, waiting for his return. You’d pretend to be asleep when the bed would dip down from his weight on it. You’d secretly pray that he’d wrap you up in his warm, strong arms finally. The moment never came and you felt so cold, so empty. You bottled it up, allowing it to devour you from the inside out.

One particular night, Joel had come stumbling in, a bottle of half drank whiskey in his grasp. He was high off something. Whatever pills he could get on. Pills that he had smuggled in for ration cards. He didn’t give a damn about his next meal. He just wanted to numb his feelings. Bury them so fuckin deep, that you, his sunlight, would never be able to reach them.

You could hear the sound of his keys clanking on the kitchen table. The front door locking shut. Then, his footsteps. His boots were heavy on the creaky floorboards. You heard his approach just outside the bedroom door, could hear his mumbling as he pushed it open, revealing your curled up form under the covers. The moonlight from the window casting a soft glow against your face. You looked beautiful, you always did.

You could hear his staggered, heavy steps. The bed dipped down beside you as he slowly sank down, the bottle of whiskey held between his knees as he leaned over and whispered, “you awake?”

You let out a sigh as you rolled over so you were facing him. Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you watched him bring the rim of the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig. “Am now.”

He was reaching for you immediately, tugging the covers that enclosed you from him.

“I need you baby, my sweet girl. Please, please, please.”

“Need to feel you.”

“Need to feel your skin on mine.”

“Please.”

“Please, baby. I’ll make you feel so fuckin good. I got you, you got me, Remember?”

He sounded half broken, teetering on the edge from the whiskey on his tongue, and the impending thoughts of losing the only person left in his blood family.

You sat up, grasping the covers between your fingers as he tried to tug them from your grasp.

“Joel, what’s wrong? What happened?” You spoke on the edge of caution given his intoxicated state.

“No. don’t wanna talk. Don’t wanna feel anythin ‘cept you.”

“Joel, you’re drunk and clearly upset over something–”

He cut you off. “M’sober enough to know that the only thing I want right now, is you. You gonna deny me that, sweet girl?” He slurred.

You found yourself at a loss for words. Your eyes focused on the bottle clutched his grasp, his knuckles turning white from the tight hold he had on the bottle. For a moment, you were afraid that it would shatter in his palm. He looked at you, his dark brown eyes glazed over, emotion swirling behind his darkened pupils. He brought the rim of the bottle up to his lips, taking another long swig as he stared through you. The look he gave you sent an un-welcomed chill down your spine.

You reached for the bottle, not wanting him to use liquor to cope with whatever it was that he was actively going through. You brought your hand around his wrist as you gently pried his fingers from the tight grasp they had on the bottle. He didn’t move to stop you as you took the bottle from him, placing it down on the nightstand, next to your knife, and far from his reach. You had kept the flower crown that you made him 2 years ago. The flowers were wilted and dried, but the memory remained. Alongside was the polaroid photo of you and Joel in the field of wildflowers. Now, just another distant memory.

“Enough of that, okay? I know the liquor is good. I know it helps, I know it brings you comfort, but you’re not gonna sit here and hide from me, okay? Please, Joel. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you, please.”

“S’okay. Can just get another bottle. M’not gonna fight you. Love you too much to do somethin like that. Would be hurtin myself in the process, more than I already have.”

You were reaching for his face, gently sliding your warm palms around his cheeks. Your thumbs were lightly stroking the highest points of his cheek bones. He averted his eyes from your gaze then. He didn’t want you to see him like this. Anger started to simmer, bubble, blister in the pit of his stomach. You shouldn’t be taking care of him like this. He should be taking care of you. He was supposed to be the strong one, the tough one, the protector. Especially now. He didn't believe that he deserved your comfort, not now. Not when he was like this, a shell of a man.

“You don’t want me like this, honey? You don’t want me anymore?” He spoke with a low drawl, his words slurring together.

“Joel, don’t start with that. You damn well know that’s not true.”

“Then why can’t you give me what I want? I ain’t askin’ for much. Why can’t you give that to me? Why won’t you let me? You’re breakin’ my fuckin’ heart baby.”

“You’re drunk, Joel. I can fuckin taste the whiskey on your breath from here. I’m not gonna take advantage of you when you're in this state. Do you hear me? You deserve so much fuckin more than that.” You tried to coax him to look at you, dragging your fingers against his jaw, but he wouldn’t budge.

He scoffed under his breath, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “Since when has a little liquor stopped us, huh? Sweet girl, just tell me that you don’t want me anymore. S’okay, I can take it. I can handle it. Gotta leave this shit hole soon anyway.” He admitted.

“Those times were different Joel, and you know it.” You continued to gently hold his face, hoping that somehow you could get through to him. “Please stop saying that I don’t want you. That’s fuckin bull, and if you’re gonna act like a fuckin asshole right now–What’re you talking about leaving?”

“Tommy. I haven’t heard from Tommy in three fuckin weeks. He could be dead for all I know. He could be fuckin’ dead, and I ain’t gonna sit here and not do somethin’ about it. I found out that the radio tower is in Wyoming. I’m gonna trade some shit for a car battery, find a truck outside the QZ, and I'm gonna go find him.”

You let out a deep, slow sigh when Joel finally told you the reason why he was piss drunk and acting this way. Maybe you hadn’t lost him after all. Maybe, just maybe.

“You’re not going alone Joel. You’re not going to Wyoming by your fucking self. Don’t think for a second that i’m going to let you go on a suicide mission like that.”

Joel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, his head dropping between your hands for a moment before he lifted it slightly to look up at you. “It ain’t your fuckin choice to make ‘darlin.” You’re not gonna stop me, and I ain’t leavin’ my fuckin’ brother out there Gwen. You just don’t fuckin get it, do you?” His tone was harsh, jagged and laced with venom. He placed his hands over your small ones and ripped them from his face as he staggered up from the bedside.

“I never said I was going to stop you Joel. All I said was that you’re not fucking going alone. The fuck do you mean I don’t get it? What don’t I understand?” Your heart clenched in on itself from how he was speaking to you. You felt like a cornered animal, fearful of what was to come next. Teeth bared, snarling, with fear stricken eyes.

“You ain’t have any family left to understand.” He knew he struck a nerve with you just by the way your face immediately fell. You were visibly taken aback. His words sliced through you, cutting your heart up into tiny pieces, piercing your lungs.

“Fuck you. How fucking dare you–” You paused with your hands balling up in fists at your sides. “I may not have any fucking family left Joel, but that doesn’t mean that you get to stand there and tell me that I don’t understand what you’re going through.”

His jaw clenched harshly through the soft, casting moonlight. His own hands were at his sides, balled up in fists. All he wanted was your comfort. He nearly begged for it, but you wouldn’t give in. Why wouldn’t you give in? Let him bury his feelings away, deep between your legs. Your denial etched deep into him, reaching the cavern of his heart. He’d never force you, never would dare harm you.

He never learned how to handle loss well. He found it so easy to slip back into his old patterns. They welcomed him in with tender touches, warm whispers, as darkness enclosed around his heart.

His boots were heavy on the creaky floorboards as he took a few steps towards you. He didn’t speak, and he refused to meet your eyes as he reached around you, snatching the bottle back up from the nightstand. For a brief moment, he thought about giving in. Apologizing for being so mean, so cruel. Allow himself to crumple in your lap, and soak his heavy tears against your chest.

He didn’t want that. He wanted to suffer through his feelings, alone.

“Joel..” Your voice was hesitant, timid, nervous. There were tears already threatening to spill over as you struggled to hold them at bay.

He didn’t say a word. Even as your hand reached out for his wrist, eyes pleading with him. He didn’t give in. He was already walking back to the open doorway, bringing the bottle up to his lips as he took another painful swig.

“Why are you doing this? Baby, why won’t you let me help you? Please…you don’t have to go through this alone. I got you, you got me, always. Remember?”

“M’sleepin on the couch.” He finally responded. “Want to be alone, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t follow me.”

“Joel…”

“You fuckin deaf or somethin ‘darlin?” I said, leave.me.alone.”

Your emotions boiled over, tears blurring your vision as you reached for your knife on the nightstand. Gripping the familiar handle in your grasp. in one swift movement, you threw your knife at the door, purposely missing his head. The blade embedded into the worn, paint peeled door. The edge of the blade just barely grazed his ear, drawing blood from the thin skin. You had warm tears streaming down your cheekbones, your breaths heavy as Joel looked at you, stunned.

He reached his hand up, brushing his finger tip against his ear, feeling a cool wetness. He brought his finger down, observing the droplets of maroon against his skin. He chuckled, amusement in his tone.

“You missed.”

He yanked your knife from the door.

“It was on purpose Joel. You damn well know how good my aim is.”

He hummed lightly as he twirled the knife with ease. “You picture stickin’ me between the eyes when you threw it?”

“No. I imagined it nailing you in the fucking heart, you asshole.”

“Ouch. That really hurts, sweet girl.” He twirled it once more, looking at your broken, beautiful face. His presence was no longer looming in the doorway. He was gone.

You did not see Joel Miller for the next 4 days. You counted every single fucking one of them.

You waited up for him each night, praying he would come home, he didn’t. Night four you were worried something had happened to him. Your spiraling mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome; Joel, dead in a ditch somewhere. Second outcome, he found someone else. Someone that wasn’t you. No. There was no fucking way he found someone. He would never. You kept telling yourself that neither outcome was true. It was hours past curfew, the streets were quiet as you packed your bag. Grabbing your spare knife, and pistol. You were wearing one of his flannels as you headed out into the darkness of night to find him.

________________

*one day prior*

Joel was pissed. (surprise, surprise). He was furious with himself, and you. Mostly himself, for being a goddamn fucking asshole. It was easy to continue to drink the pain away, numb all his feelings. Maybe he could consume so much fucking liquor, he could forget what your face looked like.

That was a laughable thought to have. You were unforgettable. Mother fucker, were you so goddamn unforgettable. The worst part? He was reminded of how cruel he was to you each time he looked down at your stupid fucking knife. The handle was well worn, but when he saw your initials carved into the thick wood, he lost it. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

He needed something, someone, to let his anger explode out on.

All it took was two QZ residents to look at him the wrong way. Long enough that he didn’t even think of the consequences of his actions. Fuck the consequences. Fuck FEDRA, fuck the Firefly’s, fuck the infected, and fuck this world.

He followed the two suckers down an alley, hearing them laughing about god knows what. He recognized them. One of the fuckers had given Tess and Bea dirty looks for holding hands in the community center. The other? Had the hots for you. Unashamedly would check you out while you were working alongside Joel. Two excuses for human beings is all he saw as he crept down the alley. His footsteps were light, quiet, unheard.

He had only meant to teach them a lesson. Rough ‘em up a bit. Cuts, bruises, black eye maybe a broken wrist, or two. Then he heard the one guy say your name. Joel Miller was seeing red. These fuckers didn’t stand a chance. Your knife in his grasp as he spilled the filth of their crimson blood along the concrete.

It was a reckless decision, spur of the moment, and fueled by his rage. He would pay the brutal consequences of his actions, shortly after.

The tip of his knife was dripping with the congealed blood of his victims. His breaths, heavy and jagged as he came to his senses.

Too late.

“Fuck.”

Shouting, FEDRA soldiers, the wind whipping in his ears as he ran.

Had he left the crime scene quicker, he probably would have escaped. Not only was he out past curfew, but he had just brutally murdered two QZ residents. Whoops.

It didn’t take long for the FEDRA fucks to catch him, rough him up, and throw him in lockup. His life was spared simply for the fact that he had two of the soldiers wrapped around his finger, all because of a packet of pills.

The amount of liquor in his system numbed his pain receptors. He couldn’t feel shit as he was thrown into a cell.

___________

*present time*

You were incredibly cautious as you headed out onto the dark streets. You knew your decision to go looking for Joel past curfew, was a reckless one. Did you care? Not one fucking bit.

You flattened your back against a crumbling brick wall as two FEDRA soldiers passed, talking amongst each other.

“You know he doesn’t deserve to live, right? You saw what he did, man. There was so much fuckin blood.”

“He’ll get what’s coming for him eventually. If we kill him, who the hell is gonna keep getting us high?”

“Fair point.”

You were silent as their footsteps sounded further and further away. You knew they were talking about Joel; your Joel. You let out a soft breath as you crept from your hiding place. Joel had killed two people; fact. Joel was also alive, and that’s all you could think about now.

You knew exactly where Joel would be. So you waited outside the building, silently devising a plan for how you were going to bust him out of there, before FEDRA could change their mind.

Your silent thoughts were interrupted when you heard a heavy metal door creak open, the sound of a grunt, followed by a thud of a body hitting the concrete. You knew right away that it was Joel.

He was pulling himself up from the concrete, staggering to his feet and by his posture alone, you could tell he was in pain. “Motherfucker.” He grunted to himself.

You made your presence known as you appeared from behind the wall. He didn’t see you at first, but when he heard stray rocks crunching beneath boots, he was on high alert.

“Joel.”

He whipped around, nearly giving himself whiplash from the fast movement. Your voice was all too distinguishable.

“What in god’s fucking name are you doin’ out here?!” He was already walking towards you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Are you fuckin’ insane ‘darlin? Or are you just fuckin’ stupid?” He continued, waiting for you to flinch from his tone, or take a step back. You did neither.

“You tryin’ to get your ass thrown in lockup too?! Fuckin’ answer me Gwen!”

He was close enough now that you could see his split upper lip, ugly purple and blue bruising along his beautiful jaw, and his black eye. In a fury, you had grabbed his face in your palms gently, searching his eyes.

“Who the fuck did this to you?”

He was taken aback by your gentle touch, he expected you to be rough on him from the way he treated you, but you were the complete fucking opposite.

“Who fucking did this to you Joel?!” You harshly whispered.

He chuckled as he looked into your eyes, “FEDRA. Got thrown in lockup, obviously. Now answer me. What the fuck are you–”

You cut him off, ignoring his question. You knew the answer as to why he was thrown in lockup. You wanted to hear it from his own mouth, in his words.

“What the fuck did you do to get thrown in lockup?” You demanded.

He sneered at you. His face hurt from the movement but he didn’t care.

“Wouldn’t you like to know ‘darlin.”

You let go of his face and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, harshly yanking it.

“Yeah, cowboy. I would fuckin like to know.”

He leaned in, his breath hot on your face as he spoke, “killed a couple of fuckers with your knife. Felt fuckin good. Thought of you as their blood spilled out on the fuckin’ concrete. Thought of you the whole time baby.” He spat.

You didn’t even skip a fucking beat from his confession. You already knew the truth after all, and there was no reason for you to be shocked.

“Yeah? You thought of me? Did they deserve it?”

“Didn’t like the way they were lookin’ at me. Wanted to teach ‘em a lesson, and I got carried away. One of ‘em gave Beatrix a dirty look for holdin’ Tess’s hand a while back. The other? He had the hots for you. Always lookin’ at you, checkin’ you out. They both deserved it.”

“Y’know you can’t just go and kill people cause they looked at you the wrong way Joel.”

“I know, but I'd be lyin’ to your face if I told ya it didn’t feel good. They were scumbags, and they had it ‘comin.”

“Did you really have to go and kill them with my knife though?” You asked, your hands were still gripping the collar of his shirt tightly.

“Considerin’ you threw it at my fuckin’ head, yeah. Felt poetic.”

You let out a sigh, loosening your grip on him slightly, your anger was still simmering.

“You gonna’ answer my question now? Gonna’ tell me why in the hell you’re out here past fuckin’ curfew nonetheless?”

“You haven’t come home in 4 fuckin days Joel. I was worried that something had happened. That you were fucking dead in a goddamn ditch somewhere. I’m perfectly aware of the consequences of being out past curfew, Joel. I don’t care about the consequences. I just had to make sure that you were okay.”

He was in disbelief. His brows were furrowed in as you explained yourself.

“What’re you doin’ givin’ a fuck about me after the way I treated you, sweet girl. What is fuckin’ wrong with you? You shoulda’ been wishin’, prayin’ that I was dead.”

You laughed, your voice cracking slightly because how could this man be so fucking stupid?

“What makes you think that I wouldn’t care? You think that I can just erase you that easily, Joel? You think for a second that I wouldn’t fucking come looking for you?”

He opened his mouth to speak, no words were formed, he looked like a fucking blubbering fish.

“Save it. I don’t want to hear you say some bullshit about how I deserve better. I’m too good for you, blah blah blah. Fucking swallow those words right now Joel.”

He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together.

“Yes ma'am.” He whispered.

You wasted no time grabbing his hand, taking him back home, despite his protests.

The shower started shortly after you arrived home. Your movements were slow, gentle, careful as you removed his shirt from the hem. You found new scars blooming on his beautiful skin. Despite the fact that you were emotionally hurt by this man, you refused to let him suffer alone. You pressed a light kiss to his soft tummy, just above the navel.

“Baby Doll, what’re you–”

“Shuddup Joel.”

You tossed his shirt to the side before you undid his belt buckle, listening to the clanking of metal as you carefully shimmied his jeans down his legs with his boxers. You kept your gaze locked on his eyes as you discarded his clothes. You ignored the feeling of his hands along your waist, his own touch was delicate, comforting. You pushed his hands off of you as you gestured to the shower.

“Get in.”

“Gwen, please–”

“Get in the fucking shower Joel.”

He let out a pained sigh, bringing his hands down to his sides as he stepped under the cold stream of water. It felt like knives and needles stabbing into his back all at once.

You were already turning on your heel, attempting to leave till his hand reached out, wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you under the stream with him.

“Joel what the fuck are you doing–”

“Please. Please, darlin’ don’t go. Please, I'm sorry.” He begged, his tone rasping.

Your clothes were already being soaked through as he pulled you into his chest, holding you firmly against him.

“Please don’t leave me.”

You let out a sigh, slowly turning around in his arms so you were facing him.

“Apologies are not going to fix this Joel.”

“I know honey, I know. I promise I will make it up to you.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you reached around him and grabbed what was left of the bar of soap. You gently wiped away the dirt, dried blood, and filth from his skin. You let him hold you, but you refused to fully give in. He was smart enough, respectful enough, to not try anything funny.

_________________

The nightmares started shortly after you brought Joel back home. Each night they got worse and it killed you inside to see him suffer like this. You were torn up. Joel had hurt you, you hurt him and it was beginning to feel like a vicious, endless cycle.

On this particular night, it was storming. The wind howled as the heavy rain pelted against the windows. Flashes of bright, white lighting struck against the black sky, and rumbles of thunder followed shortly after. You could hear Joel mumbling in his sleep, his back facing you. He mumbled Sarah’s name, Tommy. His tone was strained, pained. “You’re okay. Please, you’re okay. Move your hand, baby.” “Tommy, help me!” He was twitching under the covers, his body was trembling, there was cold sweat dripping down his bare back, chest, and forehead.

You wanted to pretend that you couldn’t hear his mumbles, his pained cries for his dead daughter and assumably alive brother. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block him out entirely, but you couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop caring about this man.

You rolled over so you were facing his back and placed your hand between his shoulder blades. Your fingers splayed across his sweat soaked skin.

“Joel. Baby, wake up.” You whispered.

You received no response, even as you gently shook him.

“Joel. wake up, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up baby, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.”

You shook him once more, a little firmer this time and he suddenly shot up from under the covers. His eyes were wide, frantic as he looked around. His wild gaze finally landed on you. His chest was rising and falling harshly, his nostrils flared and he looked like he was in a daze.

“Joel. Hey, honey. It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

He was reaching for you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he yanked you to his chest, pulling you into his lap.

Your thighs instinctively wrapped around his hips as you brought your hands up to his face, gently holding his cheeks in your warm palms, while his sweaty forehead rested against yours.

“Sarah..she–she. My baby girl–”

“I know baby..I'm sorry.” You gently stroked your thumbs against his cheekbones as his tears began to freely fall, his body still trembling under your gentle grasp.

“Tommy he–he.”

“He’s alive Joel. I promise you, he’s alive.”

“We don’t know. We–we don’t. He’s all I have left of my family. He’s the only one left.”

“I know he is Joel. I know, and I understand. You’re safe, and you don’t need to go through this alone. Okay? I know how you feel right now baby. I felt the same things you are feeling right now, after they died.”

He pulled back slightly, his brows furrowed in as he looked at you.

“Tell me how they died, please. I-I–want to know.”

“I had to kill them, Joel; My parents. It was just the three of us at one point. I was twenty. Came home one day, everything seemed normal. We were sitting around the dinner table and they were..something was off. They had this..this dead look in their eyes. They weren’t talking and then, I just knew. I fucking knew they were infected. I had no time to mourn Joel. They lunged at me and I took my knife, and killed them. Their only child, their only daughter, killed them. I left Michigan after that. Left the ranch, left my home, and never returned.”

Joel was at a loss for words. He could not even begin to fathom what you had gone through. He felt entirely guilty for saying that you couldn’t understand what he was going through. You knew his pain all too well. He held you as close as he physically could. His grip around your waist was firm, yet gentle. God, he felt terrible.

“Honey, baby, I'm so sorry..I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“Joel, please do not feel sorry for me. Okay? I did what I had to do to survive. It was either me, or them. I was left with no other choice.”

“I don’t care, my sweet girl. You should have never had to go through that.”

“I endured it, Joel. I mourned, I moved on. Ran right into you. The point is, you shouldn’t feel alone. You don’t have to be, okay? Please don’t push me away. I know how easy it is to dig yourself into a hole, let the walls cave in. I know exactly what you’re feeling, and I am right here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We have to do somethin’ I can’t just leave him out there Gwen.”

“I know. That’s why you and I are going to go look for Tommy, together. We’re gonna get that car battery, leave the QZ, and go to Wyoming. I’ll go anywhere with you. I got you, you got me, always.”

He took a deep breath, while he allowed your words, and the significance they held, wash over him.

He gave you a small nod, stroking his thumbs along the soft skin of your lower back.

“You got me, I got you, always.”

It was true, you’d follow Joel Miller, your fellow, your guy, anywhere.

Chapter 14: