#Even with nicole still alive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grimsonandclover · 2 months ago

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Sympathy is a knife.1

or; Broken bones hurt less than broken girls

Stanford!Tashi x tennis player!reader

Song of the post 'Limp - Fiona Apple'

You didn't respect tennis, so why should she respect you? She hated you. The spoiled nepo-baby who's never had to work a day in her life, and yet somehow you've managed to pay your way into NYU and play on the team. Somehow, you managed to beat her last year when Stanford played NYU, and now she's scheduled to play you again at the French Open. You're a goddamnned mess, everyone knows that.

So how are you still so good?

You're a trainwreck self sabotaging in front of the world.

So why does she feel so terrible when you're on the ground, crying like that, clutching your knee? She should be celebrating. But she's not.

SFW

6k words

angst, rivals to ...something? more in part 2 whenever that is, reader's got issues, death of a parent, mommy AND daddy issues, substance abuse by the reader and possible addiction/dependancy, injury, early 2000s NYC socialite treatment, reader is very irresponsible with a DUI (ewww don't do that please), some vomit, panic attacks, some trauma post-parent death, pre-established relationship, cheating, art follows tashi like a lost puppy, suicidal thoughts/depressions, thats a weird order to put those warnings in but oh well, just overall sad times, big sister tashi, reader should get a therapist but instead she parties and plays tennis, best friend patrick

"You're fucking joking." Are the first words Tashi Duncan says when she's told that she's going to compete against you next week. They come out venom-laced and shoot from her lips like daggers. Then, she says them again. "You're fucking joking."

You, the prodigy of NYU that should've been kicked out long ago if not for your pure, unbridled talent (if unbridled talent meant daddy's money, too). You, the daughter of a late, hot-shot Hollywood producer father and triple-divorcee restauranteur mother. You, the younger sister to B-list nepo-baby actress Seline, the older sister to teenage heartthrob boyband member Jonah. You, the tennis star with her name known by people who've never even seen a single match of tennis in their life during the day, and hot-mess socialite with her DUI mugshot from last year plastered on TMZ by night, your name sprinkled over several blind items on Crazy Days And Nights despite your big-name boyfriend. You, the only person comparable in skill to Tashi Duncan. You, who had already beat her once the same week you got that DUI.

Tashi Duncan hated you.

No, hate was too simple of a word. Hate couldn't begin to describe what she felt. It was more akin to revulsion. You were revolting to her. She felt physically sick when she was in the same room as you, which wasn't often. Until now. Now she had to once again share a court with you at the French Open.

For a split second, she considered pulling out. Then, she got her shit together and remembered that she's Tashi Nicole Duncan, and she wouldn't let a mess of a person like you with no respect for the sport make her think like that.

"Art, could you call my coach?"

Her pet-- I mean, her friend did as she asked, handing the phone to her. "What's the earliest you're available tomorrow?"

"You're fucking joking..." Are the first words you say when you're told that you're going to compete against Tashi next week. They come out quiet and tired, slow and disappointed. "She hates me. She hates me and she's going to kill me.

Tashi, the prodigy of Stanford with better grades than you could ever dream of achieving. Tashi, the daughter of a very much alive working-class father and happily married once mother, oldest sister to twins Nathalie and Renee, who are very normal teenage girls still living their normal lives in high school. Tashi, the tennis star every coach wants to get their hands on, with sponsors creaming their pants for her name on their products. Tashi, who's never once been arrested because that's just not a thing well-rounded people do. TMZ has barely ever even heard of her, and nobody's ever anonymously speculated who she's sleeping with. Tashi, the only person comparable in skill to you. Tashi, who looked like she'd rather she was pronounced dead the day before than hear your name announced by the umpire last year.

Tashi Duncan hated you.

It wasn't just your insecure mind making that up, either. She made it blatantly obvious that she did when you went to shake her hand after winning against her. You could still see the laser-hot glare she gave you if you closed your eyes. Feel the iron grip of her soft hands on yours, like she was restraining herself from snapping your wrist. You didn't look forward to seeing those eyes stare holes into your skull until you got a headache, again, next week.

"Maybe I shouldn't go this year. I don't know... I mean, I just recovered from my ankle, and-"

"Don't be ridiculous." Your best friend, Patrick, cut you off, rolling his eyes. "You're not a pussy bitch, you're a tennis player. Act like one."

Despite his choice of words, you knew it came from a good place. The reassuring smile on him reaffirmed that. Patrick seemingly knew what you were capable of better than you did. "You're going to do fine."

Charlie, your boyfriend, patted your shoulder as he passed you to grab a bottle of water, offering no words of comfort past that. He never tried much in that department. Or most departments, it seemed. It's like he thought relationships were like modeling: show up and look pretty, that's all. You were there showering him with praise and words of affirmation when he had a stomach bug during fashion week and was scared he couldn't walk. Charlie reciprocated by patting you on the shoulder while you paced your living room.

Turning to your mom, who was sitting in a chair nearby, didn't do much to help ease your anxiety like Patrick's words did, though. She was on her phone, texting and calling the dozens of people she kept in contact with a day. It took her a minute to realize you were trying to get her attention.

"Oh, Christ, Y/N, you'll be fine." She waved her hand nonchalantly. "You'll win and it'll all be fine. And if you don't, well... maybe she'll feel like you're even. How's that?"

God, your feet were killing you in these chunky platforms. Is that wet patch on your skinny jeans from a spilled drink or are you so drunk you wet yourself on the dancefloor? Where are you, what's the name of this place? Patrick doesn't seem to know, either. You're pretty sure Paris is about two shots away from making out with him, based on the way she's staring at him. Why the fuck did you choose to wear skinny jeans, these are miserable. The sequin dress was right there. Is the music louder than usual? The brights are too light right now-- wait, shit, no, the lights are too bright. Where's Patrick?

You feel bile rise in your throat and shove a girl out of the way so you throw up into the club toilet. It tastes like strawberry and tequila and shit. Someone's banging their fist on the stall door begging to piss, and you can hear moaning and skin slapping in the other stall. Fifty-fifty chance it's Patrick. Twenty-eighty chance it's Patrick and Paris.

You flush, wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, and stumble out the stall to the sinks. God, you're a mess. You know you started the night with two hoop earrings, where did the other one go? The couple in the stall are so loud, and you can definitely recognize the sound of Patrick now. Mascara is smudgeding and it's making your eyes irritated and water, but you didn't think to use anything waterproof.

You almost trip over yourself and have a repeat of last time (the time you sprained your ankle at 1OAK and couldn't play properly for three weeks) as you approach the stall, knocking on the door. "Patrick," you gag a little as bile threatens to resurface, "Pat we gotta... gotta go. It's..." you pull your phone from your bra, "Fuck, it's three. Amber's gon' fuckin' killllllllll me." Amber being your coach. You wonder how not-hungover you'll be able to act when you see her in three hours.

It takes a couple more bangs on the door for him to stop. You can hear clothes shuffling, some giggling and whispers, and the zip of his fly before the stall door opens. Paris stumbles out with a giggle, adjusting her skirt before announcing that she's gonna go find Kim, and 'good luck with Amber.'

You're barely standing and conscious, but you're not so out of it to not notice how he looks. White residue on his nostril tells all. "You've got coke?"

Patrick steps out of the stall, eyeing a girl at the sink throwing him dirty looks in the mirror before he looks back to you. "You know what I'm going to say to that, Y/N."

"Come on, just enough to keep me up. I'm gonna crash by four."

"No."

"Patrick."

"No."

You huff, leaning back on the counter and crossing your arms. "Fuck you. Since when did you join the morals police?"

"Since last week."

That's not a pleasant reminder. You want to slap him in that moment, even if it was a perfectly reasonable excuse for his sudden reluctance to feed your craving. You were a nightmare to everyone you knew last week. And the week before. You wonder how far back this could go. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, well." He shrugs, wiping his nose again and checking himself out in the mirror, adjusting his jacket.

TMZ, oh how you loathe them, has pictures of you leaving the club by the time you're meeting Amber on the rooftop court of your residence. She's livid, as she always seems to be. Like someone shoved a lemon in her mouth and no one told her she could just spit it out. "You're late. You've got the Open in four days and you're fucking late. And hungover."

"It's only two hours."

Your voice is tired and croaking, and you haven't slept longer than two since yesterday. Hungover is a generous diagnosis. You're still drunk. Charlie, who was absent from your all-nighter club hopping, makes sure you don't trip over yourself going up the stairs to the roof before leaving your side to lounge on the pool chairs. Someone texted you "Hey girl, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but..." around the time you made it out of bed, but you deleted the text before you saw any more of it. Your mind wanders to that text when you look at him.

"Two hours, my ass. Christ, I should quit."

Amber threatens leaving you as much as you promise it won't happen again. Like 'yes', 'no', and 'You do this one more time and so help me God I will make sure you can never find a coach again,' are all the basis of her vocabulary. You play and pay too well for her to ever commit to those threats.

Practice goes on until your bones ache and cry for a break. Charlie's fallen asleep with a magazine tucked under his chin. Amber leaves for the poolside cabana and calls her girlfriend while you just lay on the ground, staring at the clouds. The adrenaline starts to wear off, meaning you feel like shit. Your mouth is incredibly dry, the sun is blinding. It's like your body remembered that you're meant to be hungover and is only now catching up. At least it's after practice. Not that you did all that well. You can hear Amber argue with her girlfriend over the phone and it only makes you feel worse about being such a horrible player by showing up late and half-shitfaced. You knew they were going through a rough patch. Least you could do is make her job easier.

Closing your eyes is only temporary relief. You can still hear the cars from the streets below and Amber whisper-yell into the receiver. "I told you already... Wednesday's no good, no... well then tell them to reschedule... Rebecca, it's not like you didn't know what kind of schedule I've got when we started dating..."

It feels like your legs are going to snap when you roll over, hands planted on the hard court ground and you silently beg your muscles to push you up. You're dizzy, the doubled, now tripled vision bringing back the bile from last night/this morning to the base of your throat, but you swallow it down. Over your shoulder, you look at the pool, the sunlight bouncing from the cold water. Amber's on the other side of it, brows furrowed. She sees you watching her and turns around, back facing you.

She turns back around when she hears a splash. You fell face-first into the pool. On purpose. The cool water feels amazing, the sting from hitting the water nothing compared to the ache in your bones that has been there since childhood. You open your eyes, watching your hair billow around you like smoke, the way the sun glimmers on the surface like sparkles, the shadow peering over the ledge. "Oh, god. I'll call you later, Becca. I love you."

When was the last time Charlie said he loved you?

It's so quiet under the water. You wish the bubbles that escape your lips and float above you would carry out everything you hold in your chest. Then you could float like they do.

Like all moments of perfect peace, it doesn't last long. Babies must leave the safety of their mother's womb. People wake up every morning despite wishing to stay in bed and fall back into nothing. Amber reaches into the water and grabs your arm to tug you out and you feel like you could cry. The first wail, the sign of life. Opening your eyes to the sun leaking through blinds, signaling to you it's morning.

Is death truly the only time we have? When you ask Amber, she just frowns and tells you to stop drinking as she dries your hair with a towel.

"Come on, Y/N. Put your back into it!"

The ball barely makes it over the net, bounce, bounce, bouncing down the other side of the court. The racket is heavy in your small hands, but he won't let you put it down yet. "Dad, I can't." You whine.

"What did I say about can'ts?"

You should bite your tongue. Can't's for quitters. "Maybe I am a quitter!"

He stomps across the court, grabbing the collar of your little tennis whites. Despite the action, there's no violence behind it. "No daughter of mine is a quitter."

His voice is low, like he's whispering a secret to you. "You can."

Your collar is let go and your father stands straight. "And you will. Now, do it again like Ronald taught you."

It's Renaud. Grabbing another ball from the basket behind you, you try again. And again. And again. By the time you're done, your arms are sore for days to come and you've got blisters on your feet. He makes you drop out of your preschool Mother's Day dance to practice with Renaud instead. You had the dance down pat, practicing it for weeks.

You only ever started playing because he wanted you to. Maybe five-year-old you should've held your ground more.

Tashi bit the inner skin of her lips, her mother talking casually into her ear through the phone. "And Nathalie, well, you know how she felt about it all. Cried the whole way home."

"Is she alright? Well, clearly not, but..." She zips up the final suitcase on her bed, taking a breath. They were flying out tomorrow, the Open being the day after.

Her mother sighs, nodding her head even though her daughter can't see. "She will be, in time. First heartbreak's going to be pretty tough, poor girl."

A knock on her dorm door pulls Tashi's attention from the call. Looking up, she sees Art peeking in. She holds her finger up, asking him to wait. "Well, let Beetle know that she can call or text me about it anytime. She forgets to check my texts."

"You forget to call."

Tashi huffs. Her mother's right, of course. It's not on purpose, it's just she's constantly go, go, going, her phone often goes forgotten. "Still. I'll pick up whenever she wants me."

Her eyes trail a bird outside her window. It hops across the little ledge, pecking at something on the brick. She wished she had wings. Tashi would just up and fly to her family right now. It's been two months since she last hugged her sisters. Did they forget how she felt? Sometimes, when she can't sleep, Tashi thinks about when they were just little soft fleshy things in bassinets, waking her up at night as they cried in her parent's bedroom. Now, Nathalie was going through her first breakup and Renee was going through some rebellious phase back home.

"You've got your hotel booked for tomorrow?" Tashi asks after a moment, biting her lip again. She can't help it, her worries jump from one subject to another.

"Yes, Tash. I love you, we all love you. We're booked, we're packed, we're ready. I've gotta go finish dinner, have you eaten?"

Tashi hums a response, smiling to herself. "I miss your cooking, mom."

"I miss you. Now, get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow."

When the call ends, Art steps in fully. "Everything with Nat alright?"

She frowns in response, shaking her head and sitting at the edge of the small single in her dorm. The old mattress creaks under her, the weight of dozens like her over the years taking its toll on the springs. "Brodie and her broke up last night at some party. Nat's taking it kinda hard."

He frowns with her and sighs. "I do not miss high school..."

"What'd you come in here for?" Tashi asks after a moment, turning to face him better. She tucks a leg under the other thigh, and Art's eyes catch on the flexing muscle under the warm toffee skin for a moment. Blinking hard, he sits beside her, grabbing one of her pillows to play with. It's a nervous habit of Art's. "It's about her."

When Seline sees the news, she doesn't call. Just sends a text asking if you're alright. Jonah does call, but you don't pick up. You know if you do it'll be like pouring your feelings to a brick wall. And then, when you're done, the brick wall will recite some line from his therapist and ask you for your new dealer's number, and that will be that. Your mother has stopped trying all-together.

Tashi feels a strange sense of pity when Art shows her the headlines, an emotion she doesn't associate with you.

Charlie, mid-grind at the club, decided he no longer liked playing your boyfriend. He forgot to relay that information to you, though. Honest mistake, he assumed you'd gather that when he turned around and stuck his tongue down another girl's throat. Oh, you should've seen the look on your face.

All those unrequited 'I love you's coming back to hit you in the face in a single moment. You had even tossed one on the way here. One that he let hit his turned shoulder and slide off the curve of it like bird shit. Now, here you were, frozen on the dance floor as you watched your boyfriend of a year make it painfully clear how much it all meant to him. Charlie Maddox was known for his looks, never his brain or heart. You tried so desperately to make up for it. You'd rip the beating muscle in your chest out for him and for what?

You've never been good at holding in your emotions. You were the 'wear your heart on your sleeve' kind of gal, much to your dismay. Meaning, you slapped him in the middle of the crowd, screaming something about love and his small dick (it was average), and stormed out of the club only to be met with dozens of paparazzi who were always there waiting for someone to leave. Patrick was just getting another drink at the bar when you left, missing the whole thing. You barely made it five steps out the door, tears streaming down your face, ankles twisting with every step, before taking a detour and puking in the alley behind a dumpster. Pictures were taken of every moment. One guy even ran up and took a picture of the puddle.

Sure he wasn't the best boyfriend, and it was a long time coming, but you weren't exactly in the mental state for such a sudden change in relationship status. You flew to France tomorrow. Amber said no distractions. Here Charlie was, throwing a wrench in everything with his stupid model face and his stupid model lips and his stupid model ego. You think you would've married him if he asked. Have his stupid model babies. Not like he ever would want that with you. How pathetic are you?

You're a hiccuping, sobbing mess. Why'd you take the train here? That club was hardly worth the trip.

It's embarrassing to be sitting on the subway seats, slumped down as you stare at the floor. Not because of your status or who you are, but because... well, just look at the state of you. Your hair is a mess from partying for hours on end, you ripped your heels off your feet the moment you sat down (and they've already been stolen), mascara is running down your cheeks and frankly, you haven't stopped crying. You try to cover your face when you see camera phones curiously life up, some obvious and some not so obvious. The guy next to you gives you the side eye, squinting like he's trying to tell if he recognizes you.

You just want to curl up and die. That girl, the one Charlie practically impregnated through a kiss with his tongue so far down her throat he could probably taste her lunch, looked like Mila Kunis. It wasn't, of course, but she looked like her. Why didn't you look like her? Maybe then he'd stay. He'd try and taste your lunch. Or maybe it wasn't looks. Something that you felt like you had even less control over. You cry a little harder.

If your dad was here he'd have something to say. He'd have some schpiel about life and relationships that you probably wouldn't want to hear anyway, but at least you'd be hearing him. You'd take just about anything. Your phone rings with Patrick's number and you don't pick up. The guy next to you snaps a picture. You wonder if your dealer has anything available. Amber's going to murder you in cold blood. You'd welcome it just about now. The P.A. announces the next stop, and it's not yours, and it would be an hour of walking barefoot across New York to get to your place, but you leave the subway anyway when it comes to a stop. Because that guy kind of stank, and a kid was crying too loudly, and you could hear someone calling someone else to talk about who they just saw on the train, and you just wanted to go home.

The walk was miserable. Your feet hurt and you had to put too much attention for your liking on where you were stepping so you wouldn't get some uncurable disease from the sidewalk. Less people noticed you on the streets, but someone had clearly let the press know what train you were on and they knew if you'd left by foot, they could probably catch up. They did. Now, they had pictures of you crying leaving the club, crying on the New York City subway, and crying walking home. Fantastic. By now you were known more for your tears than your tennis. You'd hail a cab but it was rush hour, and there's no point in even trying then.

You knew it was a fruitless effort asking for them to stop taking picture of you, but you tried anyway. All requests were drowned out by the snapping clicks of the cameras. You were still drunk, and the flashes made your eyes burn and head spin. Your name was being called all around you.

"Need a ride home?" "What happened with Charlie?" "Any news you can share about your sister's latest project?" "Chin up, darling, I can't get your face." "Excited for your match with Tashi Duncan, Y/N?" "Hey, you need some shoes?"

You look over to the guy who just offered you shoes, stopping in your miserable and painful tracks. He's at least wearing socks when he pulls his sneakers off. They're a size or so too big, like clown shoes, but they get the job done. You thank him, and then go back to keeping your head down as you walk. You can already see the headlines.

Your head was spinning so much you didn't know if you could play. You're on the stationary bike to warm up, an hour or so until your match. An hour or so until you face her. You already spent last night with Amber on the practice courts, getting re-used to how the clay changes the speed of the ball, perfecting your strikes as best you can. She offered to take you again, but you were too nauseous to go. That seems to be a constant for you.

Patrick's back in New York. He's got his own tennis career to take care of, but he's sending you texts here and there. Words of encouragement.

"picture her naked or smething"

"actually no dont do that. that wouldnt even work for me"

"make chuck realize what hes missing by winning"

"i just took the fattest shit!!!! oooooh I wanna send you the pic soooo bad. thatll take ur mind off of it"

You had to block his number for a good fifteen minutes just in case. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd done that. That did almost get a laugh out of you if you weren't still so nervous.

Someone was watching on the small TV in the corner of the room, you think it was Rebecca. They're saying it's going to rain tomorrow, but that's all you can understand. So much for those French classes you took for five years straight. You tried to focus on the blurring syllables you once knew as you cycled.

Seline sends you a bouquet of good-luck flowers, but she forgets you're allergic. Jonah forgot altogether that the Open was today, and you don't have it in you to remind your little brother. He's on tour anyway, what could he really do?

Tashi's pacing the practice courts with her coach, Art in the corner talking with her mom as they half-watch her. She's stressed out of her mind. She played and won the Australian Open earlier last year. To win this would already take her halfway to a career Grand Slam. Tashi needed this. To have anyone like you get in the way of that would be unacceptable.

Her coach is doing his best to assure her she'll win. Forget last time, this was it.

"I mean, have you seen her lately?" He said with a scoffed laugh. "Nobody wins an Open like that."

You have. You won the Australian Open, too, a few years ago at 16, and you were equally off the rocks back then. It didn't do much to quell her nerves. "You've put in the work, Tash. You've been training for years, harder than she could ever imagine doing. It's in the bag. All you need to be worrying about is where you're gonna put your Suzanne Lenglin cup."

"It's only the first round. Once you get through the initial nerves, the rest will go by like nothing."

"Right." You said with no real believability. Amber was leaning over the front of the stationary bike and you slowed down your cycling, nearing the end of the warm-up. "Except it's not just the first round."

It's Tashi. It's Charlie. It's Seline, and Jonah, and your mom. It's the first major tournament you've played since...

Since him.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Amber could hear all of it just by looking at you, and she had nothing left to offer but a pitying sigh and a pat on your shoulder. Even Patrick, now unblocked again, had nothing left to offer through the phone.

Nathalie is crying on the couch and Renee is doing her best to console her twin when Tashi returns to the player room, their mother and Art following behind. She starts doing stretches in the middle of the room as she addresses her weeping sister. "Beetle, he isn't worth your tears. You know that."

Tashi's mother wraps warm arms around her twins. "Baby, heartbreak heals. You're left only with the unconditional love you hold for yourself. Let it out."

It was her mantra. Words she'd repeat after all three of the sister's occasional breakups. Time heals all wounds.

Tired legs climb off the bike. You overdid it, and Amber silently panics that the overexertion will affect your playing. The couch facing the door connected to the player's tunnel is plush enough. Thoughts trail off to your family, all of which aren't here to watch you play.

Your mother was in France, too. You asked her to come but she was busy meeting with vendors for her new restaurant. Seline was on set for some blockbuster horror film back home. Jonah, well... maybe you should text him a quick 'hey, just letting you know im about to play one of the biggest tournaments a tennis player can, against the scariest woman I know. wish me luck!' But you don't. And your father. Oh, your father. He might've been the only one out of all of them willing to show up.

That doesn't matter now, though. He won't.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

He won't.

Breathing gets a little harder to do, even though you're sitting.

He won't, he won't, he won't, he can't.

The words are falling out of your mouth now like sand seeping through the cracks in fingers. "He's not here. My dad's not here."

Your wild eyes look up to Amber, whose head whips to you. Her heart drops. Rebecca stops watching the TV. You've been here before.

"Amber, he's not here. He's not here. I can't play, he's not--"

A knock on the door, your name being called by two voices. One tells you to breathe, the other tells you that "they're ready for you."

You can only assume what comes from who as tears blur in your waterline. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

He's not here. The one person in your life that always would be. The one person who promised not to leave.

Tashi threw up after she played you and lost. Tashi Duncan lost.

Stanford Vs. NYU. She should've had it in the bag. It should've been nothing.

Top players lost all the time. It's a fact. Human error, lucky streak for the opponent, off-days. Not for Tashi. Losing to you was a slap in the face. It shook her confidence in herself so bad she didn't know how she'd recover. It was only when she played and won the Australian Open later that year, with you nowhere to be seen, that she got it back.

She spent a weekend learning everything she could about you. A weak moment in her own eyes, but she had to know more about the person who made her crumble. It wasn't hard to do-- researching you. You were in the press constantly, along with the rest of your family.

Your DUI and countless failed relationships, your sister getting thrown out of galas for fighting with other actresses, your brother sleeping with groupies and their tall tales about the ordeal, your mother's countless failed business ventures post-modeling career, and your father. Life and death.

Tashi had found an old interview of yours, done right after your own Australian Open win at 16. You mentioned how he's responsible for it all, pushing you to play since as long as you could remember. How despite his crazy career as one of the big producers in Hollywood, he'd still make time in his schedule to be there for all your games. He was your biggest critic and biggest fan, you said. That you didn't know where you'd be without him in any sense of the word.

When she checked the date of the interview, her heart stopped for a moment. A week before his accident. She even remembers seeing it on the news. How Tashi looked over to her dad as he folded laundry on the couch, watching it with her. "Hollywood producer found dead in major collision in L.A. A break malfunction is the suspected cause."

Maybe that moment, reading that interview on her bed with her father knocking on the door to offer tea, was the first time she saw you more than a mess. More as a hurt, teenage girl. Maybe she forgot it all, though, looking at you now.

You couldn't sit in a car for three months without having a panic attack after it happened. The mere mention of them could even make you spiral. It was after the funeral that you started your infamous 'spiral down the drain'. There was so much paparazzi outside the cemetery gates.

It's the only reason you didn't try to compete in any of the Grand Slam tournaments after winning the Australian at 16. Every time you picked up a racket for the next four years, you heard his nagging voice in your head.

"Come on. Not good enough. Put your goddamn all into it!"

"You're not getting a Grand Slam with this attitude. Do it again."

It was too much to do anything bigger than challengers or school tournaments. Every single one left you teary-eyed in the locker rooms before and after. Amber suggested a therapist several times, but nothing came of it.

You can still see the look of pride on his face after you won the Open. Every time you close your fucking eyes, he's there. Such a rare treat to see him smile, and you did it.

You thought you'd be ready now. You told Amber you're ready. It's been four years, damn it. You're supposed to be over it. What happened to time heals all wounds?

All this time, you thought you were scared of seeing Tashi again after beating her in '06. It's only now, the crowd in your ears as your name is announced, that you realize how wrong you were. He's still there, in the back of your heart. Oh, how that bit of flesh has been carved out over the years of your brief life. How it still beats, after all the shit you've put it through, only to make him proud. Could you ever make him proud again?

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

A tennis ball soars over the polyethylene net in a perfect arch. Long-loved Chanel tennis sneakers skid across the clay ground, arm slicing through the tension and humidity in the air. Thwack! The ball is launched back to Tashi Duncan. "Come on. Not good enough."

Then, the hitch of your breath; a sharp intake like more air in your lungs would be the thing to save you.

Sweat drips from your brow to your cheekbone, sliding down like a tear. From the back of your neck down your spine like a chill. Even from this distance, you can see the drops slide down her temples and the slope of her chin. Another crack emanates from her racket. You brace for impact. You see your father behind the net.

The court ground under your feet scraping. The sound of skin ripping open in thousands of tiny cuts, the cccccrrrrrrrrack! of bone. Bone. The gasps of the crowd. The crack of bone. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Then, the only thing anyone can hear is the shriek of your cry.

Next Last

#challengers #challengers 2024 #tashi duncan #x reader #angst #challengers fic #tashi duncan x reader #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #tashi duncan fic #zendaya #patrick zweig #art donaldson #enemies to.... whatever you call this #this took so long #tashi nation rise #dont let this SIX THOUSAND WORD FIC flop PLEASE

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spiriiitt · 3 months ago

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The mystreet s1 girlies so far.. just need to draw nicole, cadenza and michi!

Also feel like i shoulder upped the saturation of aphs one more but then she'd lowk be very orange and like.. eh, I like it as is. Not drawing emmalyn bc she appears in one episode for barely any time at all, and also I don't understand the whole thing with her possessing kim in emerald secret.. even if it's the mcd version, that's still her counterpart and I think was just something they didn't think of beforehand so. In my mind she is not canon to mystreet as an alive character that appears, it jsut makes it weird to understand idk like her soul/ghost would not be there if there was an existing mys counterpart.. ANYWAYS NOT RELEVANT

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ihaznoclue · 9 days ago

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Could I request grace, Nicole and Ellen reaction to they s/o went messing for a month but came out alive " bruse and beat up but still breathing"

Pairings -> Grace Howard, Nichole Demara, Ellen Joe x Reader

Warnings -> Injuries, near death experience?, you basically bruised and beaten

Note -> Reader comes back alive after being missing for a while for being in a hollow for too long as they come back bruised and beaten

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

Grace Howard

A month was when she last seen you

She didn't rest until she found you and hell she was even worried about you if you died

Maybe you were stuck in a hollow or something

Or maybe you were kidnapped by hollow raiders

Or maybe got turned into an Ethereal

All her thoughts swam her mind with so many thoughts of what could of happened to you

That was until today

She was in her little area as she tried to get her mind off by doing some tests of her machines

But little did she know that a certain someone has came back from a terrible experience

Grace hear a groan as she turned around that made her eyes widen in fear

You were terribly beaten, cuts, bruises all over your body

"Name what in earth happened to you, you were gone for so long and how did you get these injuries"

You explained to her in full explaintion

Now you were covered in bandages as she stayed by your side not letting you go out until you were fully rested

Nichole Demara

Nicole was worried for you but she knew you were strong and tough out there

That is until it turned into a month of you being missing

That's when things got out of hand as Nicole got more and more worried as she totally forgot what you looked like

This girl would be all over the place as she makes a board to try and find you

She would also get her team to look in every single area you have been to

Like literally this girl would not stop until she finds you

But you came back to the base hang out where Nicole was talking to herself

You could hear her mumbling so you tried to get her attack by only one arm to throw something because your other hand was sprained, broken? you didn't even know

So you threw something at her, something small

She turned around to yell at the person that she might of thought it was Billy but instead she saw you

"NAME!"

She yelled, running to you but stopped once she saw your beaten up body

You were in a horrible state

"What happened to you!?"

She checked every injury that you have on your body

(She would maybe go into mum mode or something)

She would make you rest until you were fully healed

Ellen Joe

Ellen wouldn't think much of it

Ellen would go on her original duty's thinking you were maybe sick or something that you didn't go to work

A month stuck and that was when Ellen started to worry about you

She would go to your house to see if you were there but she was met with nothing

Just an empty house with no-one in it

She would tell her boss Lycaon that something might of happened to you so they all started searching for you

She would look for days

She wouldn't sleep until she found you

One day she was nervously sitting on a chair in Lycaon's mansion

Thinking of what could've happened to you

That was until she heard a voice call out

"Ellen? Anyone?"

A familiar voice that sounded just like you so she quickly stood up and went out of the door

Face-to-face with you

Her face frowned as she saw the amount of injured that was covering your body

She immediately sent you to lay down and then get Lycaon

Lycaon bandaged you and walked out he was relief you were alive

Ellen was also in relief you were alive but she couldn't bare to see you like this

So Ellen stayed with you, letting you rest in peace

She could finally sleep knowing that you were alive and right beside her

All she needs to do is wait until your fully healed

-A<3

#zenless zone zero #zzz #zenlesszonezero #zenless zone zero x reader #grace howard zzz #grace howard x reader #grace howard #zzz nicole demara #nicole demara x reader #zzz nicole #nicole demara #nicole zzz #ellen joe x reader #zzz ellen #ellen joe

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avvwritesstufff · 1 month ago

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𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙄𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠

𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙀𝙒- For nearly eight months, Nicole and Paige had been secretly entangled in a relationship that felt equal parts thrilling and dangerous. They’d always known each other, but everything shifted during last year’s tournament. Paige, the star basketball player, and Nicole, the cheer captain—it was the kind of romance that belonged in a teen drama, full of stolen glances and whispered promises. Paige was known for being a player, but with Nicole, it was supposed to be different. Paige swore she loved her, that she’d do anything for her. And for a while, Nicole believed it. Even when she caught Paige in compromising situations more than once, she let it slide. Paige always promised it wouldn’t happen again. Nicole wanted to believe her. She needed to believe her.

𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙎- Angst, gaslighter!paige and gullible!oc

𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏- 1.8k+

𝘼/𝙉- this is NOT read over or anything and it’s so bad so i’m sorry i had to curse your tumblr with this☹️

It was a chilly evening in Storrs, the kind of night where the crisp air made everything feel sharper, more alive. Nicole had just gotten back from her late-night class, feeling the fatigue of the day settle in. Usually, evenings like this were reserved for hanging out with Paige, but tonight was different. Paige had canceled last minute for some team bonding activity that her Coach had insisted on. Nicole didn’t take it personally—she’d been through plenty of those herself and understood how it went.

Still, the change in routine left her at a loose end.

As she kicked off her shoes and considered an early night, her phone buzzed. It was her friends, Hailee, Angie, and Brooklyn.

“You have to come out with us tonight,” Angie insisted. “We haven’t seen you since school started! You’ve practically gone ghost!”

Nicole hesitated, guilt creeping in. They weren’t wrong. Ever since things with Paige had deepened, she’d pulled back from everyone else without really noticing. “Okay, fine. I’m in,” she finally agreed, knowing they wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The best part of going out, Nicole thought as she rummaged through her closet, was always the getting-ready phase. Her dorm buzzed with energy as Hailee, Angie, and Brooklyn arrived, makeup bags in hand.

Loud music blasted from the TV as they crowded around the small mirror, trading tips and compliments while brushes and eyeliner flew around. For the first time in what felt like forever, Nicole let herself relax, laughing at their inside jokes and soaking in the warmth of their company.

“Alright, Nikki,” Angie teased, narrowing her eyes as she applied her lipstick. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

Nicole froze mid-swipe of mascara. “What?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, come on,” Angie pressed, smirking. “We’re not dumb. You’ve been MIA, and don’t think we haven’t noticed that hickey on your neck.”

Nicole’s hand shot to her neck instinctively. She laughed awkwardly, her cheeks flushing. “It’s not like that. My classes have just been insane this semester.” She stood up quickly and made her way to the kitchen.

Angie raised a skeptical brow, following her. “Right, because classes leave perfectly placed hickeys on your neck. Sure, Nikki. Tell us another one.”

Nicole sighed, realizing she wouldn’t win this battle. “Fine! Yes, I’ve been seeing someone. But it’s really not a big deal.”

Angie’s eyes lit up. “Oh my God, spill! What’s his name?”

Nicole hesitated, thinking fast. “Um… Paul. His name’s Paul. He’s sweet. And hot.”

“Paul?” Angie repeated, tilting her head. “Alright, what’s his last name? Let me look him up on Instagram.”

“Oh, he’s not on Insta,” Nicole replied quickly, pouring herself two shots from the freezer. “He’s more of an off-the-grid kind of guy.”

Angie frowned but before she could press further, Nicole checked her phone. “Wow, would you look at that? It’s already 9:30. Time to go!”

The subject was dropped—for now—as they hurried to get their coats and head out.

The four of them piled into Hailee’s boyfriend’s car, who kindly dropped them off at the local bar. As they walked in, Nicole took in the lively atmosphere: the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the low beat of music in the background.

The girls claimed a corner table, but Nicole made a beeline for the bar. She ordered a Dirty Shirley—Paige’s favorite—and as the bartender handed her the drink, it hit her.

She hadn’t talked to Paige all night.

PB💕

3:36 pm

Coach said I can't be

on my phone during this

thing, I'll call you later if

I'm not exhausted

Love you💕

(nikki❤️this message)

hey p,

i haven’t heard from

you and wanted to make

sure everything was going

good, i love u❤️

Nicole set her phone down and glanced up, and there she was—Paige. In the middle of the crowded room. With another girl.

Nicole froze. The world around her seemed to blur, her focus locked on the scene unfolding before her. All she could do was sit there, paralyzed, as disbelief washed over her. Paige wasn’t just with someone else—she had lied. And to Nicole, that was the most jarring part. Paige never lied. At least, that’s what Nicole thought she knew.

Time dragged, stretching what was barely a minute into what felt like hours. Finally, Paige looked her way. Their eyes met. Nicole felt a tear slip down her cheek, unbidden and unwelcome. The moment Paige saw her, Nicole broke the connection, pushing herself up and weaving through the tightly packed bodies in the bar. She needed air.

Outside, the cool night air hit her face as she sank onto the steps, staring blankly ahead. Her tears threatened to fall, but she blinked them away, determined not to let them win.

The door burst open behind her.

“Nik! Nicole—thank God. Please, let me explain!” Paige’s voice was frantic as she scanned for her.

Nicole didn’t turn, didn’t flinch. She just stared ahead, her face expressionless.

Paige moved closer. “Ma, come on—” she reached out, her hand brushing Nicole’s arm.

“Don’t touch me.” Nicole’s voice was flat, cold, devoid of the warmth Paige once knew. She jerked her arm away.

Paige knelt in front of her, her voice softer now, pleading. “Let’s go home, Nik. We can talk about this. You’re the only one I care about, you know that. I don’t even know that girl’s name—she came up to me, I swear.”

Nicole hesitated. Her mind raced, torn between fleeing and confronting the betrayal. She exhaled sharply.

“Fine. But let me say goodbye to my friends first.”

Paige nodded, following closely as Nicole re-entered the bar. Nicole wiped her face quickly, masking her turmoil as she approached her friends.

“Guys, don’t kill me,” she said with a forced laugh. “I’ve got an important assignment due in an hour. I promise I’ll stay longer next time!”

They groaned but hugged her goodbye, none of them catching the storm beneath her calm exterior.

Outside again, the silence between them was heavy. Once in the car, Paige started the engine, glancing nervously at Nicole.

“Nicole, you know you’re the only one I want. I was trying to push her off me, I promise—”

“No.” Nicole’s voice cut her off, sharp and steady. “Stop that. You don’t get to promise or swear on anything anymore. You’re a liar, Paige. And I’m not stupid. This isn’t the first girl, and it won’t be the last.”

Her voice cracked, but she kept her eyes fixed ahead. Paige reached out, but Nicole flinched.

“Baby, come on. You know I’d never—”

“Stop calling me that,” Nicole snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a narcissistic piece of shit, and I never should’ve agreed to this. You can’t commit to anything but basketball.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her frustration bubbling over. “Nik, what the fuck. You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

Nicole let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m saying. How many, Paige? How many girls have you cheated on me with? Actually, forget it—I don’t want to know. Let me out.”

“What? Are you serious? The car’s moving, Nicole!” Paige veered onto the shoulder, her voice rising.

“Let me out!” Nicole fumbled with her seatbelt, finally yanking the door open.

“Nicole, stop! You’re drunk!” Paige shouted, pulling the car to a screeching halt as Nicole stumbled onto the pavement.

Ignoring her, Nicole began walking down the dark street.

“Nicole, get back in the car!” Paige called after her, panic lacing her voice. “I’m not leaving you out here in the cold!”

“Leave me alone, Paige. My dorm’s two blocks away.” Nicole’s voice was slurred but defiant as she staggered forward.

Paige caught up to her, grabbing her arm just as Nicole tripped. She steadied her, their eyes meeting. For a brief moment, Nicole saw a flicker of the Paige she had fallen for—the girl who had made the last eight months feel like a dream.

Without a word, Nicole turned and walked back to the car. Paige followed, a small, hopeful smile creeping onto her face.

“Just because i’m in the car doesn’t mean we are good paige” nicole states turning toward the door and leaning against it

The ride back was short, but the silence between them was deafening.

When they arrived at the apartment building, Paige helped Nicole out of the car, steadying her as they walked to her dorm. The night air was cold, but the silence between them was colder.

At the door, Paige hesitated, then pushed it open and followed Nicole inside.

“Out,” Nicole said, her voice low and sharp, pointing at the door.

Paige ignored her, forcing a soft smile. “Baby, you’re just drunk. I don’t wanna leave you alone like this.” She closed the door behind her and gently guided Nicole toward her bedroom.

Nicole didn’t argue, too drained to fight. She sat on the edge of her bed, watching Paige through tired, narrowed eyes. Paige set her phone down on the nightstand and knelt in front of her, slipping off Nicole’s shoes with care.

“I got you,” Paige murmured, her voice soft, almost tender. She helped Nicole out of her jacket, then started removing her makeup with a tissue from the bedside table.

Nicole didn’t say a word, just stared at Paige, trying to decide if this was love or manipulation.

“I’m gonna grab you some water,” Paige said, standing up. “Try to lie down.”

As Paige left the room, Nicole let out a shaky breath. Her eyes landed on the phone Paige had left on the nightstand. It lit up with a notification.

Snapchat: Nessa🤫🍑📞

Nicole’s stomach churned. She picked up the phone, her fingers trembling as she unlocked it—no password. The messages stared back at her:

Nessa🤫🍑📞: When are you gonna be here? I neeeed you, Paige.

Nessa🤫🍑📞: Bro, are you seriously ignoring me because of that girl you’re “with”? Like, come on, Paige. You know I’m the one—not her.🙄

Nicole’s blood ran cold. Every doubt, every suspicion she’d tried to push aside slammed into her like a freight train.

Paige walked back in, a glass of water in hand. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Nicole standing there, holding her phone.

Nicole handed it to her without a word. “Get out.”

Paige opened her mouth, but the look in Nicole’s eyes stopped her. It wasn’t anger; it was something colder, something final. Nicole stepped past her and opened the door, standing silently as she waited.

Paige hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. She wanted to fight, to explain, but she knew better. She could come back tomorrow. She always did. Say she was sorry, promise Nicole the world, and somehow, break it right back.

Without a word, Paige walked out.

Nicole closed the door, locking it behind her. She leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. The tears came then, silent but relentless, each one carving out a piece of the love she’d held for Paige.

For the first time, she let herself wonder if she could ever put the pieces back together.

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers #ncaa wbb #iowa wbb #wbb x reader #azzi fudd #paige bueckers fic #nika muhl #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #send anons #send asks #toxic paige #toxic #uconn #ayanna patterson #aubrey griffin #ted’s #fanfic #angst

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starguardianniom · 3 months ago

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Billy background

Ok so thanks to chapter 4 we got some background on Billy now and like I promised here are some of the many pictures I took about it, (it took me an hour just to get through it all because I legit took a picture of almost pratically all dialogue but I'll spare you all the details and just jump straight into it) and some more.

The Sons of Calydon just straight up trust Billy with their truck and their freaking bangboo for starters because he used to work for them, surprise surprise, we all thought so from the beginning and we were right. Still the fact that they are on good terms enough for that kind of job already warms my heart a lot you have no idea.

What fate are we talking about exactly? Why did you leave? You seemed pretty well liked, I don't get it. I need more information, you are being so vague about the details it drives me nuts, still love you though, but dang you will make me work to get your secrets won't you? Fine, that just makes you even more interesting in my eyes. ^^

Just like that Billy you just saved us a lot of trouble I feel. I bet Nicole was so relieved.

So you talked to Lucy then, must have been interesting.

Well, since you are the messenger it would be rude to decline their offer.

Wow, you really just follow orders to the tee and Nicole cares enough to actually be willing to let go of the case if we refuse, dang the honor code is strong with The Cunning Hares. ^^ Don't worry my dear I want Perlman in jail as much as you guys do so we'll go meet them~.

So you are doing a side job for a few days for them and Nicole is letting you, good for you my man. Wait does that means that Red Moccus actually is staying with you and the Cunning Hares for the next few days? Wild. I bet Amillion was thrilled.

Dang, I guess Nicole is mad that you let Perlman get away right under your nose, don't worry I'll make sure that we get him back so that you get paid. I do hope that Nicole would still actually pay you even if you did let him go considering the sole reason why she, Anby and Nekomata are still alive was because you were there to help Lycaon climb aboard to save everyone so I do hope she will go easy on you.

Sibling concern as usual, fortunatly~

No dice on what was my answer, right? ^^

My thoughts exactly, pretty nice to see that out of the Cunning Hares Billy seems to be the only one who could still go back to people and friends he knew if it came to that, even if he doesn't seem interested in going back for some reason.

Yeah, if you're friends with Billy that automatically makes you friends with the Sons of Calydon, hell yeah! They aren't even mad that they had to rescue us and that Billy left them all that time ago, this is how you leave groups people, on good terms, take notes y'all. Caesar is so wholesome.

On the other hand, why are these the only options available after this wholesome dialogue, hoyo do you want us to have a problem being friends with Billy despite me already having maxed his trust, or make us tsunderes? Stop making me insult my boy please!

That ain't convincing very much Belle but I feared the other possible answer too much so sorry about that Billy you are still my favorite character in the game and Hoyo will never make me dislike you, try all you want he's still gonna be in my heart forever.

That one question I've been waiting for is finally here!!!

This. I straight up swear, while the Cunning Hares are a found family, you don't see Nicole and Anby calling Billy "bro", the Sons on another hand do. I keep hearing Anby saying "I got you sis" refering to Nicole in battle, and telling Billy to get some repairs while she's switching with him.

I would like to highlight that Caesar is saying that even if Billy has left the gang for a while so I guess he still has the title even if he isn't with them anymore, guess that means that if he ever leaves the Cunning Hares he can just go back to the Sons and get back his title and nobody will protest.

So Billy had a pretty big job in the Sons, neat. With all the responsabilities and stress that comes with it. Interesting~

Lighter having Billy has a rival, he also calls Billy his predecessor, meaning Billy had the position first and then it went to Lighter I guess. Lighter saw Billy in action and found him worthy of being his rival. Also that last sentence makes me thinks that Lighter forgot that Billy was literally made for battle, he's an Intelligent Tactical Unit, a battle android, he was made to fight so of course his combat skills are something else. But I really am tempted to pull Lighter just to have a few more info on Billy, given he seems interested in a duel with him and admires him, it seems legit that he might talk about him in some of his trust events, I sure hope so at least, because I will be very disappointed with Hoyo otherwise.

Again Hoyo, stop dissing my boy when others are praising him, like I know we might be used to the goofy side of Billy but like we also go on commission with him and the Cunning Hares a lot so surely we would be used to seeing him in action by now shouldn't we and like we are proxies not fighters we legit have no room to talk Billy is the one going in the Hollows risking his life we just give him the directions and the exit but if Eous is damaged we'll be safe at home, while Billy won't, so can we just stop with dissing him already? Please and thank you.

Going by that comment I assume Billy used to behave a lot more differently in the Sons than how he is now, but it does beg the question of how much drastic the change was, I mean an entire freaking gang of thugs ran away from him when they recognized him, so he must have been pretty scary and intimidating back then, but now he seems to look back on that side of him with a bit of shame? Anyway seems like he's pretty happy with his life with the Cunning Hares according to Lighter, being his dream life, which again, good for him this is wholesome on so many levels. ^^

Finally done, this took a while. I got fed with Caesar and Lighter happily providing info on Billy, but I still need more!

Still it was all very interesting, I will stay on the lookout for more info on Billy, feel free to also come at me with what you find about him too, or just talk about him, or gush about him, or shoot me your headcanons too, I will talk about him forever. ^^

#zzz #zenless zone zero #billy kid #zzz billy #billy zzz #cunning hares #sons of calydon #zzz sons of calydon #zzz cunning hares #zzz belle #zzz wise #zzz caesar king #caesar king #lighter #zzz lighter #gimme more billy history please #my boy is more interesting the more i learn about him

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chimcess · 4 months ago

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Waterlog || pjm (6) (Teaser)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: TBD Release Date: Sept 13, 2024 at 5pm (MT) Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, kissing, SMUT (more to come in the official release), ableism, mention of past alcohol abuse, talk of previous sexual encounters, talks of bullying, probably poor swimming terminology, I also have no idea how swim events work so might be wrong about that too, talks of possible inappropriate coach-athlete relationship, lots of insecurities, survivor's guilt, lots of guilt and shame actually, reader needs to be kinder to herself, we all deserve a Jimin, he's still best boyfriend, more to come later...

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“Ready?”

I jumped. Beside me, Jimin laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” I joked. “Laugh it up. Just take your clothes off and get in the water.”

Jimin stuck his tongue out at me, peeling his jacket off and tossing it on his gear bag. His flip flops were next and in no time he was in the water. I stood at the edge and watched as he started doing his laps. This was more about stretching his body than training, and I told him he needed to get better at practicing taking this slow.

The pool began to fill in with the others as they practiced their designated moves. Jimin and the boys were tagging each other in and out to get used to taking turns diving in. I watched with pride. His breaststrokes looked amazing. His progress was something to behold and I was honored I had been trusted with him. Relationship aside, he was such a hard working person and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“He looks good,” Coach Tyler Moore told me, his eyes locked on Jimin’s form. “Better than when he was with that other guy. Kid’s an animal.”

“Good for a short guy,” Nicole, one of the other coaches, joked.

Jimin’s height was always a topic of discussion for him. His length had him at a disadvantage compared to other swimmers and it was a mystery how he was able to compete competitively at all. Olympic level swimmers were at least six-foot in the men’s category. Most of the women were taller than Park, too. Myself included.

“He’s a great swimmer,” I replied. “He’s fast and strong. Could probably bench press a bear if he tried.”

Tyler laughed. “Do you think he’ll place at the Olympics?”

I nodded, “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Girl’s a recluse,” A familiar dry voice drawled beside me.

I chuckled. I had known Summer Lewis since we were in high school. We were good friends back in the day before she moved out to Michigan after getting married. I wasn’t expecting to see her here, but it was a welcome surprise that eased some of my nerves.

“Thought hell would freeze over before she was back in public,” Summer continued. “Do you even leave the house?”

“Yes,” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “Obviously. I’m here right now.”

“How are you feeling?” She asked when the others broke off from the group to talk to a group of reporters. “Leg holding up?”

“Yeah. I still get a bit of pain sometimes and when it’s cold it hurts more, but I’m alright. Alive, so I can't complain too much.”

The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon, I thought. I cast that out of my mind. There was no room for survivor’s guilt right now. I was happy. Everything was working out. He would be happy for me. But he’s dead.

I took a deep breath. I was too stressed out about today. The reporters were inching closer and closer and the thought of interacting with them made me feel physically ill. My stomach churned uncomfortably and I pushed down the rising panic. It was so stupid.

Nothing had even happened and here I was sweating like a pig.

“Do you miss it?” Summer asked, jutting her chin out toward the pool.

“All the time,” I told her. A bead of sweat trickled down my neck. “Hey, I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick. Let Park know if he starts looking for me.”

Summer nodded, “We’ll be starting in ten.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

Jimin was already looking my way when I spared him another look. He lifted up his hand and raised his thumb. I nodded at his unasked question, not wanting to worry him. This was my thing that I needed to handle. He just needed to focus on the water and being with his team.

Squeezing my hand into a fist, I tucked my thumb underneath my index finger and popped it through the other side. Waving my wrist, I signed to him that I needed to use the restroom. He nodded and I could tell he relaxed a bit. Good. I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

I splashed water on my face. Back in the same bathroom we were in this morning. I splashed myself again before I let my mind wander. Today was too much. My anxiety was at an all-time high and the make up on my face felt like spackle. I knew it looked nice, it was the same as it was every time I did it, but it only served to make me even more insecure. I looked like I was trying too hard, and everyone knew that. God, I was such an idiot.

And then the whole thing with Jimin.

I let a single tear slip. That was so inappropriate and disrespectful. He was so nervous and scared, and I just took him at face value. He told me something so deeply personal, and I just glossed over it because of what? I hadn’t gotten any in a while? I was no better than the men I despised.

I allowed myself two minutes to cry. All of the guilt and shame I felt poured out of me, but once my watch went off, I was dabbing my face off with tissues and fixing my makeup. Whatever was going on with me would have to wait. My boy was counting on me.

Opening the bathroom door, I slammed into a chest. I stumbled a few feet back barely catching myself on the wall. The person I bumped into was stood still.

“I’m so sorry,” I gushed, adjusting my clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

I recognized that voice anywhere.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

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astrolocherry · 6 months ago

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The Archetypes of Venus in Libra - Dream Girls

The Venus in Libra individual spells a unique magical social charm. She really comes to animate astral form amongst receptive company, and feels substantial before those who are willing to look past the masks and marvellous masquerade of her personas.

Venus in Libra eyes become mirrors that reflect the bouquet rising from the heart of the onlooker. People see their own image of exquisite beauty in her, and often feel uplifted and content as a product of time spent with her. It’s also possible then that people feel subconsciously entitled to her attention, or that she belongs to them. She may even experience some form of obsession or fixation from a former lover, stranger, or close admirer.

Beyonce - Contrast of Feminine (Venus/Libra) with the Masculine (opposite Mars/Aries) “You don't listen to her. You don't care how it hurts. But you’re just a boy..” Lorde - “Be a part of the love club. Everything will glow for you” Mya - "These streets for affection. I got you. ... What kinda of girl, you like? ... Tell me, am I your type?" Anna Nicole Smith - Dionysian-Venusian. Aphrodite’s Grotto branded ‘ Blonde Bombshell’ on earth Grace Kelly - The Three Graces of Venus. A film actress who later became royalty, penned memoir ‘Born to Be Aphrodite’

Parasol of Prettiness - Dignified, demure delicacy, and innocence. Admired from afar, misunderstood up close. Seemingly incorruptible. White dresses, flowers, lace. Maintains gracefulness and repose despite outside conditions Incurable style and aesthetic taste.

Bonne Belle - Pure and pretty, amicable however possessing a wilfulness that refuses to submit to unbecoming demands. Charm effect and refined intelligence that is resourceful and often underestimated. While kind and cordial by nature, she will still speak up when witness to a violation or injustice

Broken Cutie - Engaged, animate, witty, and charming. An altruism, innocence, and sweet sensitivity repeatedly bruised and irreparably damaged by external hands of Fate moving through other people

“I Have You Now My Pretty” - arouses a sense of urgency to come to her rescue; her plight ultimately becomes a uniting force.

Lady Favour - Her love interest’s promise and prized possession. Keeping her promise relies on staying alive and returning from battle (Mars).

Cherry

#venus in libra #libra #libra archetype #aphrodite archetype #venus archetype #feminine archetype #libra venus

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lyraofthestarsss · 4 months ago

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GODDDD I AM SO NORMAL SO VERY NORMAL ABOUT THE END OF S1 EP99 OF MINECRAFT DIARIES

The way guards, specifically Laurance, sees emotions and vulnerability as a weakness. If you let your emotions overwhelm you, you leave yourself open to an enemy attack. Emotions, specifically anger, is what directly feeds Laurance’s shadow knight abilities. Emotions are something that you control, not something that you allow yourself to feel

The battle is finally over. The misunderstanding with Nicole’s kidnapping is cleared and Scaleswind has finally surrendered. Aphmau is overjoyed by this news. They won. They won! All of that fear and worry that they won’t make it out alive, that they won’t see their friends and family again, is finally gone. Scaleswind is now their ally, the fighting is over, they won

And yet, in her moment of pure happiness, she forgets that O’Khasis is still a threat. She forgets that the battle is over, and not the war. She forgets that the whole reason they’re fighting in the first place is because Zane wants the amulet they tried so hard to hide and protect

And in this moment of weakness, she tells Garroth that Laurance has the amulet

Where does Garroth find Laurance? At the foot of Ungrth’s grave. Deep in thought, completely unaware of his surroundings. He’s… happy. The battle is over. He can let down his walls for even just a moment. He’s probably telling Ungrth that they won. That they’re safe. That they’re no longer at war

And when he sees Garroth appear behind him, he doesn’t put those walls back up. Even if he’s been acting strange for the past few days, Laurance doesn’t see him as a threat. The guards of Phoenix drop have something of a brother-ship. A close, tightknit bond full of respect and love for one another. And for Garroth and Laurance, maybe that bond goes deeper than that

He tells Garroth that he’ll hold onto the amulet just a little bit longer, not because he doesn’t trust him, but because he doesn’t see a reason to pass it on. Laurance has held this dangerous and very powerful amulet all this time, it only felt right to hold onto it just a little while longer

Laurance trusts Garroth enough to turn his back to him. He’s allowing himself to be vulnerable with him around. He trusts Garroth with his life.

I can only imagine the pain he feels when Garroth uses that moment of vulnerability to knock him out cold and steal the amulet from him

#minecraft men swirling in my brain like a pot of soup #my post #long post but good post #minecraft diaries #mcd #mcd aphmau #mcd laurance #mcd garroth #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvahl #character analysis

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mariailoveyou-guerin · 8 months ago

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I love them so much y’all don’t even understand every couple of years decades really there’s a couple or on screen ship that’s so insanely good with palpable chemistry and sexual tension that my brain chemistry gets altered in way that’s not for the sane people the serotonin and buzz be so strong no dr*yg could ever make me feel that way! that even tho logically I’m my mind I know it’s just acting and they are doing their job incredibly annoyingly well I still believe it with all my heart that they are in fact dating and are happy and aren’t just saying anything because they don’t wanna let people in on their life which is fair I know it’s wrong and silly and just very dvmb bc it’s just acting very very phenomenal brilliant acting but damn and 80% of the time they were or ended up as couple later on sure few weren’t and didn’t but it all started with JD/WR BP/AJ Sandra x Keanu, Jake x Anne Kiera x James(James with anyone really Christina Anne) Anne Kiera with anyone too, Margot x Will, Ian x Nina, Sophia x Austin, Ryan x Sarah (this one hurts still bc wdym they dated longer then they was alive on the show?) sometimes the actors be doing not even a bit to much but wayyy over the board to much actually, Nicole x Micheal then came stonefiled then came Haesoo jisoo x haein and now we are here in this dilemma that should get into a psych ward next to the riddler joker and penguin with lukenewton and nicolacoughlan they are the worst too

I fight with my mind constantly telling myself it’s just acting then I be like really is it? Is it really just acting that kinda of unhinged chemistry brilliance cant just be acting it’s to much to be acting only😂! be careful the brain plays tricks on you and so the actors bc to them it’s just a job while to others(me) it’s a straight jacket signs and mental illness signs! Clear sign of breakdown

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incorrect-mtg · 10 months ago

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A little bit of wish fulfillment

In one version of the story, Liliana Vess chooses to take a final stand against the dragon that holds her life in his hands and Gideon pays the price, taking on her punishment so she can deal a final blow to Nicol Bolas.

But shift the battlefield slightly, and everything changes.

Eager to see the Scourge of Skalla defeated, Vivien Reid charges into battle more aggressively, her projections tearing a path through Bolas' army until she is close enough to see the woman she'd tried to kill earlier that very day throwing her life away to spite her master.

All Liliana wants is to be free.

All Gideon wants is for everyone to be safe.

Vivien? She just wants a dragon to be very much dead.

Their interests align beautifully and, after assessing the situation, Vivien unleashes all she has in Bolas' direction.

Even a Godlike Elder Dragon might struggle to concentrate on enforcing a contract when pierced by a divine spear, attacked by undead gods and then dealing with a magical rhino slamming directly into his face. The greatwurm that follows only serves as a bigger distraction.

Vivien might have preferred to be the sole cause of Bolas' defeat, of course, but avenging Skalla is more important than the way it is done. Her arms are a blur as a menagerie, the combined fauna of an entire plane, charges forward to buy Liliana as much time as she needs.

And then... It is done. Bontu bites through Bolas' neck alongside the spectral beasts looking for their own pound of flesh, a final distraction that allows Oketra's magic to dive into his chest. As his planeswalker spark leaves his body, the Dragon-God dissolves as though a dream.

All combat stop, Bolas' lazotep army crumbling without any commands to follow. In the sudden silence, Jace Beleren — freshly done helping Ugin deceive everyone — surveys the battlefield until his gaze meets Gideon's, the hieromancer kneeling next to an unconscious Liliana.

The necromancer is alive, but the damage all over her body — letter shaped burns that match her contract — still mean she's in critical condition. As Gideon carefully picks her up, Jace establishes a mind link with him.

"I'll take care of her" he sends through.

And then he's gone.

As they realize the battle is over, people all around start cheering. Some just drop down to their knees. Many planeswalkers just leave altogether.

Jace just takes a deep breath.

His duty now is to help with clean up and to make sure nobody decides to go hunting for his friends.

#magic the gathering #gideon jura #liliana vess #vivien reid #jace beleren #short fanfic

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cowgurrrl · 2 years ago

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Dancing Barefoot

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: this was slightly self-indulgent because Patti Smith is my personal god also baby Miller should be arriving in the next fic but this idea was stuck in my head and I HAD to write it

Summary: “I’ll never finish falling in love with you.” - Nicole Williams, Collared aka Joel helps you and the baby sleep ~800 words

Warnings: a little bittersweet, talks of Janey girl and Sarah bear, brief brief brief mention of a strained parent/child relationship, pregnancy, tooth rotting fluff

The moonlight streams from the windows, and the birds chirp sleepily outside. Ellie is safe in her bed, and Joel is lying on his right side beside you, occasionally mumbling something you never quite catch. You should be asleep. The baby should be asleep; instead, they're using you as their punching bag. You've been tossing and turning for thirty minutes, making the baby toss and turn just as much. You sigh and rub your face like it will be enough to soothe you and the baby to sleep.

"Can't sleep?" Joel mumbles, and you look at his back. You didn't even know he was awake, but you nod at the ceiling.

"Your kid is doing laps."

"Why is it my kid when he's misbehaving?" He asks as he turns to face you. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are heavy with sleep, but his hand still manages to find your bump in the dark. "Let your mama sleep." He says, poking at your stomach.

"I don't think poking our baby in the face is going to get them to sleep," you say, and he hums, half-asleep. You run your fingers through his curls and smile when he cuddles closer to you. "I think they want a song."

"The baby wants a song, or you want a song?"

"Both." You say. You catch the pull of his lips in the moonlight before he kisses your temple. He sighs as he gets out of bed and grabs his guitar from the corner. He perches on the edge of your bed shirtless, his silver scars on display without shame, and you remember each story associated with them— ghosts of the people you were before baby bumps and shared last names.

"What d'you want to hear?" He asks, strumming a few times to check the tuning.

"Do you know any Patti Smith?" You ask, and he turns to give you a look. "What? I had a life before you." He chuckles, and you lean against your headboard, hands resting on your swollen belly. He looks at the frets like they're an equation for a few slow moments before the familiar ballad fills the space. You smile as he quietly sings the words, mouthing them as he goes.

Little Miller seems to realize their dad is singing because you feel them move in time with the strums. If this kid loves music already, we're going to need more records, you think. You imagine little hands reaching for the guitar as Ellie or Joel play, adding their own dissonant sound to the song previously being played. Maybe you could hire someone in town to make tiny instruments for them to play with once they're big enough. The idea of a little jam circle with Ellie, Joel, and the baby makes your heart sing. As the song ends, Joel looks at you expectantly, his dark brown eyes meeting yours. The tiny heartbeat under your ribs has settled, only occasionally kicking to let you know they're still alive.

"Like clockwork," you say, and he smiles, gently placing the guitar back in its corner. "As judgy as you were with my request, you pulled that out pretty fast."

"I had a life before you," he echoes, and you roll your eyes as he slides back into bed with you. "Sarah didn't like most of the music I played in the truck, but she liked Patti."

"Smart girl."

"What music did Jane like?" He asks, and the way he says her name makes you want to cry. He says it as if it were holy and sacred because it always will be to you. You smile and cuddle close to him. His arms envelop you in warmth, and his smell surrounds you, and you feel safe.

"She was an old soul. She liked ABBA, Fleetwood Mac, and Janis Joplin. I'm convinced we played the Pearl album more than any other person on the planet," you say, kissing his shoulder. "Thank you for always asking about her."

"I like hearing about her," he says as if he were pointing out constellations— easy and undeniable. Her dad didn't even want to hear about her, and now this man who had never met her asks about her because you loved her. Because you still love her, and he loves you. This time, you do cry. You blame it on pregnancy hormones and a lack of sleep, but Joel knows it's something more. He kisses your tears away and rubs soothing circles into your back. "She'll always have a place in our home, d'you hear me?" He asks softly, and you nod.

You fall asleep in his arms that night and almost every night, but this time you dream of little feet standing on your kitchen table, dancing along to Janis Joplin's crooning. You dream of teasing Jane's hair to match Stevie Nicks’ on the cover of her Bella Donna album. You dream of the day she came home, suddenly detesting ballet and wanting to take drum lessons instead. Something tells you she left some of her rockstar energy with you, and the new baby is taking it all in— pieces of her left in so much more than just your memory now.

🍓

Tag list: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts

#the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us x reader #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x female reader #Joel Miller x pregnant reader #he’s so girldad your honor #look for the light

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sapphic-agent · 1 year ago

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Why is Simon able to see Maddie?

I've been thinking about it for a while, and I think I might have an answer.

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

Let's start with what I don't think it is. I'm 99% sure that it's not because Simon's dying. There's speculation that he has a tumor or undiagnosed cancer causing him to slowly die and that's why he's able to see Maddie. But I have two issues with that:

Why is he only able to see Maddie? If him approaching death is what enables him to see and talk with a ghost, why is that only extended to one ghost? At the very least, wouldn't he have some kind of connection with the other ghosts? Maybe if not outright seeing them, then sensing their presence or something? But he's never given any indication they're there, we've seen that. If he was dying, he'd have a connection to the entire metaphysical plane, not just Maddie.

Why does he only start seeing her at that exact moment in season 1? If he was dying, wouldn't it have been sooner? Maddie was "dead" for three days before Simon saw her. And it was only at this specific time that he was able to do so.

What this tells me is that this isn't possible because of anything from Simon's end. Or, not completely from his end.

To answer this question, we need to look at the only other instance of a living person and ghost interacting. What enabled Maddie to see Janet and Mr. Martin arguing? What allowed Janet to steal Maddie's body in the first place?

I think it's a combination of things. Mr. Martin says to Janet, "What did you feel? You have to tell me." This implies that she did something that was completely unexpected by him. We don't know what it was exactly, but we can assume that it has to do with blurring the lines between life and death even if it was just a little. But I don't think it was just this that allowed Maddie to see her and Mr. Martin.

When Maddie describes her altercation with her mother to Simon, she says very deliberately, "She killed my spirit." Maddie wasn't just feeling upset in that boiler, she was broken. A lifetime of being battered down by her mother's alcoholism and negligence and this was the final straw. She wasn't physically dead at that point, but emotionally she might as well have been.

I think that these two things happening at the same time created a sort of passageway between Maddie and the metaphysical plane. The hollowness Maddie was feeling coincided with whatever Janet had done to blur those lines, and that's how Janet was able to push her soul out.

Now, if I'm right about all of that, what does that have to do with Simon?

Well, remember what Simon said to Ms. Fields, "I don't know how I'm going to survive this place without her." It's important to remember that Simon had a feeling she was dead, or at the very least seriously hurt/in trouble. He accepted the possibility of her being gone as fact, which is why he never questions her being a ghost. It isn't such a stretch to assume that he was feeling the same hollowness that Maddie was concerning her mother.

(This also answers why he was the only one. Sandra and Nicole still believed Maddie was alive, they weren't broken in the way that Simon was. And when Sandra did receive the news that there was a good chance Maddie was dead, she was at home, not the school. So her and Maddie wouldn't have been able to connect the way her and Simon did. Also, Maddie's relationship with her mother is very complicated. They don't have anything close to the bond that her and Simon do)

But like I said above, the connection has to be on both sides. Not only did Maddie watch him have this breakdown and was probably feeling similarly to him in that moment, she also had a tether to the living world; her body. So, the combination of their emotional bond, Simon's emptiness when faced with a world without her, and Maddie still technically being alive allowed them to connect past the limitations of death

#school spirits #school spirits theory #maddie nears #simon elroy #janet hamilton

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uselesssomebody · 2 years ago

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𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 (𝕝) - neighbor!joel miller x reader (pre!outbreak)

complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist

"𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕠𝕣 𝕠𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙, 𝕞𝕪, 𝕞𝕪" - you can be the boss | lana del rey

words || 𝟠.𝟛𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets real friendly with one of her neighbors

next part || fourth of july (II)

a/n || in honor of that one deleted dvcree edit. may it rest in peace ➵ i became ghastly ill when i tried to write so apologies that it took a while. ➵ this is set before the events of the show, back when joel and sarah were still both alive and in austin, texas. i've never been so i dunno how accurate my descriptions are, or my accents, either. don't hate them please ➵ there is an age gap in this story !! if that makes you uncomfortable, i have many other non-age-gap fics you can browse on my page. reader is like 27 and joel is like 36. he's not old, though he is mentioned as such because he's old compared to her. also canonical dilf ➵ thinking of putting out a sister blog but with darker fics? what're we thinking, guys? ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut ➵ unprotected sex ➵ piv sex ➵ oral (m receiving) ➵ fingering ➵ overstimulation ➵ facial & cum ig (tell me if i miss anything)

austin was hot.

she was sure that was one of her first thoughts as she’d stepped off the plane, quick to push her suddenly-heavy locks out of her face. lugging luggage and a young teen with her certainly didn’t make it better, but the light gust of fresh air when she stepped out of the airport left her sighing deeply in relief.

flagging down a taxi was simple enough, but getting her sister to help place their suitcases in the trunk was not.

“nicole - please get off your ass and help me!” she said it in such a sweet voice, that her harsh choice of words seemed to both mildly bewilder and amuse the driver.

no one called nicole ‘nicole’, except, of course, her big sister - and even then, only to frighten her. to everyone else she was just nicky and, if they were real close, nick.

swallowing sharply at the implied warning - the use of her full name - she did, indeed, get off her ass and help push the last suitcase into the trunk.

they piled into the backseat, the cool of the a.c. soothing the light flush on the sisters’ skin. she’s quick to give the driver the address, and he nods, setting off.

neither of them had imagined ever moving back to austin, but here they were.

it’d been about 13 years, as far as she remembers, and the scenery had changed significantly. more people bustled around the streets than there had been before, more businesses had seemingly popped up, and everything seemed fancier.

nicky wouldn’t have noticed the change, having moved alongside her family at the ripe age of a year old, but her significantly older sister could.

she still remembers how her parents had sat her down - on a pretty summer evening before her freshman year. they’d mentioned many things - how the family was due for a new start, how austin wasn’t so feasible for them anymore, and so on. the only thing she’d heard was change and loss.

and that's what it was for her. her whole life turned upside on its head, as the family of 4 made the move across the country to the cold state of michigan. and that’s where they’d stayed - for the rest of her childhood, and then her adulthood, too.

her parents had been young when they’d had her. very young, and she sometimes sensed the sadness that she caused them because of it. they never tried to be outward about it, and her life had been as happy as she could have realistically wanted it.

and, though she loved her young sister, she knew that she became less important in the eyes of her parents after nicky’s birth, taking the back-burner to make space for the family’s golden child, conceived with careful planning and meticulous care - as opposed to the case that she’d been.

now, though, being much older, she didn’t let that bother her, though she never felt particularly at home in michigan. in fact, the last place she’d felt at ease had been austin, and when her father had stated that he couldn’t continue to find renters for their old property there, and was thinking of selling it, she was quick to discourage him, swaying him by stating she’d be more than happy to stay there, renting under her parents. they’d been excited at the notion of being able to keep the house, she was happy to get out of there, and nicky was… well, she was, frankly, devastated at the thought of her big sister being several states away.

regardless of the tense family dynamic, the both of them had remained steadfastly bonded, with her providing the role of a caretaker as much as she was a sister to nicky when her parents found themselves unable to relate to or understand their young daughter. nicky’d begged for weeks to travel with her sister, and her parents had been - to put it lightly - hesitant, worried that the big change would affect their daughter’s development.

nicky was outgoing, for sure, and she had her friends and her school - but she knew all those came and went. the only rock she’d truly had in her life was her sister, and the notion of losing her had been too much to bear.

she’d gotten ill after that first week it was announced - it was as much a physical sickness as it was a psychological one - and the wallowing she had done at the advent of the news had only spurred the sickness to be harsher.

her parents had had to reprioritize after that, finally grasping the profound effect the separation might have on the two.

and that’s what led them here - just a few blocks away from her childhood home.

nicky wasn’t sure how exactly she felt about the suburban environment after their last few years in an apartment at the heart of the city, but when she looked over, she could see her sister’s happy - nay, giddy - face. that was definitely a big plus.

she had practically fallen out of the car in her excitement, and she spent just a minute marvelling at the fact that building hasn't changed a bit from when she last saw it.

it had transported her back to her teenage self, and, lost in the moment, the taxi driver wondered if he should remind her of her bags and his fare. nicky, who had been less of a help on the ride here, started unloading them herself, and it took until the second suitcase for him to help her.

“just give her a minute,” she mumbles, making him laugh lightly. hearing the conversation, she snaps her head back, realizing that most of the bags were already on the pavement.

“oh! sorry,” she fished into her wallet, producing his fare, which he accepted with a nod and salute. she smiled, the two sisters thanking him and waving him off, before turning back to their place, “excited?” she mumbles it to nicky.

“incredibly,” she said it with a faux-bored expression, but even she could appreciate the extra space this house would provide them.

she walks up the patio steps, slotting the key she’d so delicately carried the entire journey here into the lock, and hearing the distinct click it made when it opened.

the sound of a new beginning.

it'd been a few weeks, and everything was shockingly alright. the house felt more like home to her than anywhere she'd ever been, and though nicky was still adjusting, she felt infinitely better in a somewhat unfamiliar environment with her sister, as opposed to a familiar one without her. the house had three bedrooms, and nicky’d happened to pick her childhood bedroom out of the two offered to her, and, though nicky hadn't realized yet, she could see the love she’d put into the bedroom when she was younger: chipped wallpaper where she’d put her posters, a faint ring of liquid on the windowsill from where she'd kept her potted plant, the creak of the bed whenever someone would sit on it.

hey, she never said it was perfect, and they'd been quick to make their way to the furniture store closer to the city to find some new things for the place. all she was glad about was that there was no need for renovations in the old house.

they'd found a lot of time to spend together; having moved early into the summer, they'd hoped nicky would get acquainted with the change before going to school. that’d also left her to be a somewhat bored teen, so she did what she, as a younger sibling, did best: annoy her sister.

of course, she didn't mind, simply happy they had a chance to hang out, something that had been harder to do for her between work back in michigan, and her school. currently, she was also taking a break, having left her job, and having a new one lined up in another month.

that left ample time for them to catch up on all the movies and t.v. they'd had to watch, and for the older sister to teach nicky a thing or two about good music. she couldn't have her sister entering high school with a bad taste of music - it'd be blasphemous. she'd been brushing up on her housekeeping abilities as well, so the time also consisted of teaching nicky of how to cook, and keep everything in the house in order to minimize the risk of damage.

that time had begun to dwindle as of recent, with nicky being out of the house more often. she'd come into her sister's room sporadically, in order to ask her permission to meet with a friend. she'd tend to say yes, considering her sister was old enough to handle herself, though she was always a little shocked at the speed at which nicky made friends.

on one fine morning, she finally sat her down.

“so, who's this friend you've been spending all your time with?” it'd been in the middle of breakfast, and nicky'd become frozen, spoonful of cereal sticking out of her mouth. she’s quick to realize the awkward position, pulling the spoon out of her mouth, and hastening her chewing in order to answer the question more quickly.

“you haven't met her? oh my god, you absolutely have to. she's been showing me around the place - apparently she knows all the coolest spots, cause her and her dad - they've been living here for, like, forever, and-” the sudden onslaught of information made the older sister practically recoil, before it was replaced by an amused chuckle.

“well, mom and dad were worried about how well you'd adjust, but it seems like you're doing just fine.” nicky smiled too, though it was a little sheepish, “so, where did you say she stayed?” she was still slightly confused as to how nicky had met her, as she'd never exactly strayed very far from the house.

“oh, she lives next-door. didn't I mention?” the information was jarring for a moment, as it seemed a massive oversight on her part to not even notice her adjacent neighbors, but she suddenly found herself remembering something. there had been a young girl coming out of the house next door with a bag slung over her shoulder, and her hair pulled back and under a visor to protect her from the blinding texan sun. she’d been out to attend to some of the plants she had bought for the porch, and she had looked up when she’d heard the girl’s crunching steps on the somewhat gravelly pavement.

she’d smiled and waved at her, and she’d nodded back, just slightly confused by the encounter. of course, due to the nature of it, she’d promptly forgotten about it by evening, but she was quickly coming to realize that this must be the girl that nicky was talking about.

“wait - she’s the one with the big hair, wears band shirts?” nicky nods enthusiastically, and she smiles approvingly. the young girl seemed sweet enough, and she was more than happy that nicky had already found a friend.

the next week, nicky had been begging that they invite sarah over for dinner. it’d been a chill weekend anyways, so she was definitely not opposed to the idea, but she was quick to extend the invitation.

“okay, okay - invite her over on sunday. tell her to invite her parents too; it’d be nice to meet the neighbors.” nicky was quick to shake her head.

“parent, it’s just her and her dad.” she corrected herself quickly.

“right, ‘f course. invite him over too, then.” nicky nodded excitedly, rushing over to her room to get on the phone with sarah along the street.

that sunday, she did join the sister’s for dinner, but, as she’d been ushered into the house by two friendly smiles, she seemed to putting off a phrase at the tip of her tongue.

“s’everything ‘lright, hun?” she was quick to notice her guest’s guarded appearance, as she’d sat on the couch with nicky.

“hmm? oh, yeah, yeah. it’s just - my dad’s working tonight, so he couldn’t make it.” she waved her off.

“oh, don’t worry about that, we’re just happy you’re here!”

nicky echoed the sentiment, and the two young girls spent their time talking and laughing, a couple miscellaneous snack bowls spread over the coffee table as sarah became more comfortable. they’d migrated to the dining table when they’d been served dinner. she didn’t tend to cook for guests, so she attempted to pull out all her makeshift stops and, considering the end product, she was quite satisfied with the result.

no one was more excited than nicky and sarah, though - the both of them practically scarfing down the delicious meal. the conversation had turned to include all three of them, and sarah was beginning to reacquaint the both of them to austin, while they entertained her with stories of their time in michigan.

though they’d tried their very best, neither girl came all that close to finishing all the food she’d set out, so she was quick to package it up, sending sarah on her way with the food as a nod to her father’s missed opportunity.

“are you sure? i mean, i don’t know if i can take this-”

“yes, you can. unless you don’t think he’ll like it-”

“no! absolutely not, he’ll love it, it’s just-”

“sarah.” the faux-strict tone made sarah’s face crack into a smile, before she nodded, tucking the packet under her arm as she turned to say her goodbyes to nicky.

once she’d left, she pounced on her older sister.

“isn’t she great?” startled, she laughed, before nodding.

“definitely.”

june passed quickly, and, by july, she’d finished the paperwork for the house, for her job, and for nicky’s school. she was glad to know that it was the same one that sarah went to, and, with the added comfort of her sister spending increasing amounts of time exploring austin, she’d sat her cramped joints down in front of the t.v., vying at the chance to enjoy some trashy reality or game show.

though the sun still provided sweltering heat, when she left the kitchen and living room windows slightly ajar, she could feel the hint of a breeze work in place of their energy-consuming a.c. - which she’d turned off for that exact reason.

she turned her head from the t.v., the contestants on the screen continuing to speak with the host, and she let her eyes drift over the sliver of scenery that she could see through the half-obstructed kitchen windows. some of her neighbors had put up american flags. some were old, new, tattered, printed, there was even one that seemed to be homemade. of course, she knew this behavior was really only reserved in this neighborhood during this time of year, as the texans prepared to celebrate the 4th of july.

reminiscing of her own experiences with the holiday: going swimming with friends, eating good meals, and the occasional barbecue at a friend’s place - she was caught off guard when she heard the doorbell ring. it made her jump, but she quickly composed herself, standing up and brushing off her clothes.

she ran her fingers through her hair and, hoping she looked presentable, she opened the door.

it was her neighbor on her other side, a woman by the name of martha. she was a little older - her and her husband - and they were absolute sweethearts. in fact, they were the first to greet the new neighbors, back on their second day here. she was looking up at her with an excited smile.

“martha, hi! what can i do for you!”

“well - i was just wondering if you’d join us: we’re having a little barbecue tomorrow for the 4th, and i’ve invited a few of the neighbors. we’d really love to have you and nicky.”

she was just a bit taken aback by the invitation, but she didn’t hesitate in her response.

“of course, we’d be happy to be there! shall i bring anything?”

“no, of course not, dear. we’re hosting, just bring your little one.” she let out a light laugh, agreeing. martha bid her a quick goodbye, and headed in the next house’s direction - the millers.

perfect, she thought, nicky’ll have some fun too, then.

july the 4th, and a neighborhood barbecue. it’s a nation-wide phenomenon, then.

nicky’d been significantly more excited than her, once again, proving herself to be the more social one. nevertheless, as the younger girl got ready the next morning, her older sister spent her time finishing a tin of muffins. martha’d assured her she didn’t have to bring anything, but it almost hurt her soul to show up empty-handed. if she’d calculated correctly - and she’d hoped she’d done - she’d made just about enough for the whole group.

by 11:30, they were both ready, and she’d placed two boxes of them in nicky’s hand, while she carried the other two. the both of them made their way over, and she noticed the large group mingling in their yard and backyard. she could see martha’s husband, john, commandeering their large grill, a corona in his hand. she looked around for martha, and caught the eye of the woman as she turned away from greeting another guest.

“oh, you two ‘re here, perfect.”

“hey, martha. look, i know what you said, but-” martha gasped in delight at the boxes as she neared and noticed them, lightly taking them off of her.

“they look great; you haven’t stressed making them, have ya?”

“no - no, it’s my pleasure, really.” martha smiled at her, a mix of graciousness and happiness, before turning her attention to nicky.

“hey, nicky. how’re ya holding up?” nicky nodded.

“good, pretty good. thanks for having us.” she waved her hand at the notion, ushering the both of them inside.

for the first hour, she got acquainted with martha’s husband, the smiths from across from them, and marriots from down the road. they were all very curious about michigan and she, in turn, curious about how much exactly austin had changed since she’d last been here. at the same time, nicky was talking to a pair of twins a year younger than her who lived about two houses down. they were pretty cool, and were going to the same school as her, so they were filling her in on some of the school-wide drama: stuff sarah never cared so much about.

speaking of which, by about 12:30, she hears sarah’s voice greeting someone, and she turns her head, waving at her. behind her is her father, two packs of cold ones in his hands, that he sets down as he greets the hosts. sarah’s quick to detach from him, saluting him goodbye, as she instead makes her way over to nicky and the two other girls.

nicky's older sister had been enraptured in a conversation about the new dog the marriots were getting next week, when she felt someone come up to her.

john had brought joel over to the group, and he integrated without interrupting the story, letting mr. marriot express his excitement for the miniature pinscher they were getting. once he was done, he notices the newest member of his audience.

“hey! joel, how’re ya doin’?” his words turned the attention of everyone in the group, and she realized that this was the coveted joel miller: the man she missed for that one dinner. she turned her head to look at him, flashing him a friendly smile, but it almost froze on her face as she drank in his appearance.

good god, was he fine. messy hair that he’d pushed back, a full beard and an intense gaze. jesus, he was piercing straight through her, his eyes boring into hers while his mouth reflected a polite smile. she averted her gaze for a moment, before john is quick to introduce them.

“and this is joel; him and his daughter live right next door to you guys.” she nods, reaching over to shake his outstretched hand.

“nice to meet you; you’re sarah’s dad?” he nods, smiling at the mention of his daughter. she made the mistake of looking up to catch his gaze, and she felt her breath hitch. the moment passed as she released his hand, but, when she looked back up at his face for a half-second, as ms. smith began talking about her daughter, she swore she saw a smirk in the corner of his mouth.

the lunch had been lovely, and the company had been better. she’d heard stories of four neighbor’s dogs, and seven neighbor’s kids, and then stories of john and martha’s holiday the previous winter, and she felt much closer to the entire neighborhood. nicky had been bustling between her and her friends the entire time, as had sarah, but with her father.

speaking of whom - joel was interesting. he seemed just a bit tired, and maybe bit quiet compared to the others, but he had managed to find a keen amusement in making her squirm. and how could she not? this attractive, sweet, hot, funny, hot, gentlemanly, hot single dad was meeting her eyes every few moments with a gaze that made it look like he wanted to make her forget her name.

did she mention he was hot?

as was she, after a few hours of this strange back and forth, where the both of them seemed to be enraptured in the conversations they were in, but couldn’t seem to take their attention off each other.

jesus christ - he’s your neighbor. and he’s 10 years older than you. and he’s got a daughter who is best friends with your sister!

she jumped when nicky had come up to her, shocked by the feeling of practically materializing her sister.

“hey, i was wondering if i could go over to sarah’s place? i’ll be home in the evening.” nicky seemed a little tired of the party, obviously not the absolute best scene for a teenager like her.

“huh? oh, um - is she and her dad okay with that?”

“i’m alright with it,” a deep voice came from behind her, and she whipped her head around. joel had a kind smile on his face, and he was looking over at nicky, nodding.

“oh, thank you mr. miller! i appreciate it.” nicky smiled back up at him, before looking at her sister with practically puppy eyes.

“alright, nicky. be home by 5.”

“by 6, see you!” nicky rushed off before she had a chance to argue, and she opened her mouth, stuck between bemusement and amusement at her gall. joel laughed behind her, a deep, quiet noise. she didn’t realize how close he was to her, feeling the vibrations of his body in her own. she turned to properly face him, taking a half-step back to allow herself a more comfortable angle to look at him.

“nicky’s always so excited to hang out with sarah, and i can see why: she’s really sweet.” he smiled at the compliment for his daughter, his eyes holding a far-away quality that indicated his reminiscing of her.

“yeah - yeah, nicky too. sarah’s always harpin’ me to be able to go out with her.” he took a breath as he snapped back to look at her, “you’re new to the neighborhood then.” she smiled.

“yeah, we just moved in last month.” he nodded, gesturing around.

“it’s not a bad place, when you’re used to it.” there’s a joking twang in his tone.

“it’s not a bad place, even when you aren’t.” a light chuckle fell from him, as he took another swig of his beer. she could feel the proximity heating her up, so she brushed some hair out of her face, “i think i’ll step out for a moment. d’ya wanna join me?” she gestured to the door, and he shrugged.

“why not.”

the yard was more empty now, as people had begun leaving the gathering, or entering the house as the food had dwindled. though, still placed on the table, were a few of the many muffins she had made. she walked over, him in invisible tow, and she took one, handing it over to him.

“do me a favor, tell me what you think.” he seemed a bit confused, but obliged her, eating the muffin with great care. maybe exaggerated, but the expression on his face made her laugh, so she didn’t mind.

“this is great! martha went all out for these.” she nodded at the praise, him oblivious that it should have been directed towards her.

“martha definitely did. those were mine, though.” he looked back at her, in a mixture of impress and awe.

“well - you’re as good a baker as you are a cook, then.” she laughed at the reference to their lost dinner.

“oh, you did get it from sarah. perfect, what’d you think?”

“i thought that i regretted missing the chance to meet you then.”

suddenly, she felt the conversation had veered away from her ability to make food, and more towards - well, her. she went to retort, but heard her phone’s tone go. she snapped her head to her pocket, mumbling an apology as she did so.

it wasn’t anything important, thankfully, but it did give her an opportunity to check the time and, true to belief, it seemed that, very soon, she’d have overstayed her welcome.

“shit, it’s later than i thought.” she looked up at him, almost apologetically.

“you’re heading home?” though she wasn’t a master at reading faces, she could almost swear there was a hint of disappointment on his.

“well, joel, you’re a hard man to get a hold of. so, mind helping me bring these boxes back?” she gestured to the four boxes, and, in her own roundabout manner, made the bold move of inviting him over.

was it even bold? he lived a few meters from the place anyway. he smiled though, and, in his own gentlemanly manner, agreed immediately. he grabbed three of the boxes before she could stop him, and she almost sheepishly took the last box back up the street with him, pausing for only a moment to unlock the door to hers, before ushering him into the place.

he seemed almost hesitant to step too far in, but she waved it off, telling him to make himself comfortable as he set the boxes down.

“want anything? water, beer? something to eat?” he held his hand up, shaking his head, but did indulge in sitting at her dinner table. she ignored his gesture, taking out two cans for the both of them, before sitting in the seat beside him. he didn’t seem to mind, though, taking the cold beverage gratefully. it made her smile: at least the heat was affecting the both of them.

she took a long, almost wincing sip of hers, having almost forgotten how strong the liquid tasted in her mouth.

“sarah mentioned you’re a contractor?” it was a feeble attempt at reigniting their conversation; truly, she just didn’t want him to leave yet. he seemed to notice that notion, as he took a moment to answer, looking up at her between sips.

“yeah, yeah. me and my brother.” it was new info, and she nodded, rubbing at her nose lightly as she concentrated on the tab of the can, “so, how’d you find the place - the people?”

“they’re - uh, they’re really nice, i guess. everyone seems really friendly.” he nods.

“sure, sure. i’m sure it’s a little annoying though - everyone’s a bit older, right?” she looked up at him, and he had an unreadable expression on his face.

“well, i don’t mind older.” she maintained eye contact as she saw his smile twist, lip curling into a smirk, one he tried to hide behind his drink, “in fact, i think it’s better. older guys tend to be more mature - put together, you know?”

“guys?” his face betrayed his shock at her directness, and she suppressed a laugh.

“well, that is what you’re asking, aren’t you?” he held a hand up in surrender.

“and if i was?” she stuck her tongue into the side of her cheek, surveying the space between them.

“well, mr. miller. i’d tell you to stop beating around the bush and just take what you want.” he set his drink down with a light thud, something more desperate swirling in his eyes.

“and what would that be?” he wanted her to iterate exactly what she thought would happen.

“you tell me.” she didn’t give in, hoping the older man would break before she would.

he didn’t need much convincing, though, placing a firm grip on her arm, and pulling her closer to him, leaning forward and taking her cheek in his much larger hand.

“you’re asking too much of me, sweetheart. what’d the neighbors think?” his breath fanned over her face, and the tone of his voice indicated his teasing nature.

“what?” he laughed against her, shaking her body, before he gestured to the window just adjacent to him.

“only been here a few weeks, and already seducing one of your neighbors? it’s bold - i’ll tell you that much.” his cologne - a soft, but distracting smell - was overpowering her, and she couldn’t exactly think clearly as he sat so close to her.

“joel.” it came out as more of a plea than she had maybe wished, and he smiled, his eyes flicking across her face, “should we go upstairs?” she detached from his eyes for just the slightest moment, to look up at the staircase leading to her room.

“if you want to, sweetheart.”

fuck. being called sweetheart? by him? she was done for.

she led him up the stairs, her steps just slightly shaky as she walked up.

what was she doing? him, she supposed.

her bedroom was messier than she’d hoped as they walked in, but she didn��t have time to dwell on that as he pulled her towards him while she shut the door behind her, pressing his lips to her ear as her back hits his thick chest.

“you sure you want to do this?” his voice is huskier than it had been before, and it made her let out a shaky breath.

“please.” he smiles against her soft skin, turning her to face him. she doesn’t waste a moment, leaning closer to his face as he pulled hers closer to him, capturing her lips in his own.

his beard tickled her chin, his breath warm on her face as she closed her eyes against him. he tasted like an interesting mix between the barbecue, her muffins, and the beer he’d been drinking, creating a festive, american aftertaste in her mouth.

the kiss made her moan against him, as her hands finally began exploring the man in front of her. his shirt was flimsy against his torso, and that made her almost more inclined to pull it off of him, as she placed her hands under the thin fabric. he broke the kiss with an amused exhale, pulling her hands out from under it with a smile playing on his lips.

“think you owe me something, first, sweetheart.” she looked back up at him in confusion, but, noticing the fingers at the ends of her own top, she as quick to pull it off of herself. even he seemed a little shocked by her eagerness, but that didn’t stop him, pulling her into him with such force that the both of them fell onto her bed.

he sat back up in a heartbeat, redirecting her thighs so that they straddled his own, pulling her towards him. the angle left her neck at eye level with him, and his nose traced the skin of her collarbone, the ghost of kisses leaving a trail up her neck as she wrapped her fingers in his scruffy hair. she let herself get lost in his touch, the softness of his lips on her chest, the sharp sting of his teeth occasionally grazing her skin, the harshness of his fingers against the skin of her thighs.

before she - or he, for that matter - could get too carried away, she pushed away from him lightly, reaching back down to tug at his shirt.

“you got what you wanted, now come on-” he laughed as he pulled the offending cloth off of him, and she sighed happily at the sight.

god, he was hot. she pushed him further back until he was laying down, and attached herself to his jaw, placing chaste kisses in a similar manner he’d done, tracing the edges on his beard with her lips. he kept his hands firmly on her sides, squeezing gently as she made her way down his body, over his chest, where the hair tickled her nose, making her smile. then, over his stomach, until she’d gotten dangerously close to his rapidly hardening cock.

he gripped her tightly, making her squeak in shock which, surprisingly, did nothing to quell his arousal.

“you’re-”

“let me, c’mon.” she said it as though there was a measure needed to persuade him. that definitely wasn’t the issue; rather he was worried he’d finish far too quickly for the mature older man he’d portrayed himself to be.

but how could he not - this fucking gorgeous woman with her head between his legs looking up at him with those eyes. fuck, those eyes.

“please, joel?” he’d grunted in that moment, releasing his grip, and she had a smug smile on her face as she unbuttoned his jeans. he couldn’t see it though, his head thrown back as he tried to even his breaths.

she wasted not a moment to tease him, tracing the outline of him lightly through the thin fabric of his boxers. he’d groaned her name - almost in warning, and she smiled as she relented, pulling him out from the confines of the cloth.

she hadn’t exactly been proud of her expression in that moment - akin to an actress on a certain screen, if you caught her drift - except hers wasn’t a fake one. older men had always been a hit or miss for her in terms of dick size, but this one seemed to be the fucking hit.

he’d recovered in time to catch that look, leaning on his forearm to be able to reach his hand over and push her hair out of your face.

“shocked, sweetheart?” she didn’t take her eyes off him.

“excited, more like.” she pulled her hand lightly up and down his cock, spitting in her hand before continuing. the added lubrication made him moan through his teeth, and she didn’t give him a moment of reprieve, readjusting so she was at the perfect angle to lightly lick his tip.

he practically shuddered at the contact of the wet muscle on him, a hand going to weave the hair falling over her face away, and gripping her head maybe tightly than he intended to, as she placed feather-light, open-mouthed kisses from the top to the bottom of his cock. he didn’t say anything, his appreciation for the act moreso communicated through the squeezing and releasing of her hair, and his shuddered breaths and quiet, almost broken moans.

deciding she didn’t want to wait any longer, she wrapped her lips completely around him, taking him deeper and practically feeling him twitch as she sunk lower on him. he guided her movements slightly with his grip on her, pushing her down as he let loose to the feeling, and pulling her up lightly as she came too close to unraveling him.

breathing in deeply through her nose, she pushed down further on him, swallowing to suppress her gag as she felt her nose being tickled by the hair at his base.

“fuck, sweetheart.” the curse left his mouth almost aggressively, as he twitched behind her lips. her throat constricted around him, and she resurfaced, breathing heavily to make up for the lost air. he looks down at her, taking in her cock-drunk appearance as she sighed between his thighs. she lazily pulled her hand up and down his cock, as she caught her breath, “come up here, baby.” through both of their pants, she made out his request, getting up so that she was sitting on her knees, as he also rose to rest better against the headboard. he gestured her to some closer, and she placed a knee of either side of him, practically crawling up his legs.

the shorts she was wearing were his biggest obstacle at the moment, and he was quick to pull her up by the front of them, unbuttoning them in the process. a squeak emitted from her, shocked by the manhandling, and he was quick to pull them down her legs. her hands cover his, the both of them almost desperately taking them off and, once he’d finally done so, he focused his eyes to hers, his fingers sliding up her thigh and to her cunt. he traced her lower lips lightly, and she could feel her thighs tense, her breathing hitching.

noticing her reaction, he smiles, pulling her lips to his, and kissing her as he traced up and down her slit, placing the ghost of pressure on her clit. she almost jumps at the sensation, but the firm grip his other hand keeps on her hip stops her.

“don’t run away now, sweetheart.” it’s a whisper into the space between them, and she wordlessly nods, her hand going to his biceps and gripping as he applied more pressure, “tell me what you want.” she looked up at him, a mix of disappointment and frustration at the request.

“i…”

“you?” she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, and he used his free hand to direct her chin to look at him, “what d’you want?”

“i want you to fuck me.” she felt almost ashamed saying it, but he smiled in pride - a smug smile.

“we’ll have to get you ready, first; don’t ya think?” he dips the tip of his finger into her and she shudders again, her hips jumping lightly, causing him to squeeze her. she nods, humming, too focused on the movements of him fingers to properly answer. taking pity on her, he obliges, pushing a finger into her, and curling it up.

“oh, god.” the sensation makes every muscle in her tense, the sexual frustration piquing at the feeling, and simultaneous lack thereof. her head falls into the space between them, and he places an almost comforting kiss to the top of her head, before beginning to move his finger.

initially, he moved it in and out of her almost exploratively, as if he was trying to determine what exactly made her tick. it resulted in soft moans and cut-off breaths, before he heard something akin to a whimper when he’d found a particular spot inside her.

he pushed another finger in, making her noises only grow, gripping him tighter. he started moving in and out of her at a more rapid rate, his fingers curling, to the point where she was moaning so loudly that he was worried the neighbors would hear regardless of their relocation.

he took his lips to hers again, hoping to muffle her noises, and it worked, her mouth focused on feverishly returning his passion that she managed to swallow the majority of her moans. though, it didn’t help when she felt the knot inside her begin to tighten, her hips grinding against his fingers.

“y’gonna cum, sweetheart?” she couldn’t speak, worried she’d be too loud if she opened her mouth, so she nodded frantically, pushing more quickly against him as she chased her high, “that’s it, baby, cum for me, cum for me-” his encouragement almost made it easier, and she did cum, in something akin to a burst: her body fully stilled, as did his movements, and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, the hint of a squeal leaving her parched mouth. her voice sounded almost broken because of the intensity of it, and she practically leaped off of his fingers, unable to take the overstimulation as he had begun to move again.

“sorry - fuck, it’s too much, sorry-” he shook his head, assuring her immediately.

“it’s fine, sweetheart, you’re fine. ‘re ya ‘kay?” his accent came out more aggressively as he checked on her. she’d placed her hands over her face in an attempt to cool its warm flush, trying to catch her breath, as she nodded shakily.

“i’m - i’m, fuck, yeah, i’m fine.” she practically stuttered through her gasps, and he found it endearing, giving her a moment to compose herself. he adjusted the way she sat on him for her to be more comfortable, him fingers kneading the flesh of her thigh gently, hoping the contact would ground her.

it worked, with her taking her hands off her face after a few moments. her eyes had a far-away look to them, but she had a sheepish smile on her face.

“that was - uh, it was really good.” he smiled at her reaction, but it dropped after a moment.

“we can - we can stop, if ya want, sweetheart. if it’s too much-”

“no!” her response was so aggressive that it made him look at her in light amusement, “i mean, no. i don’t want to stop.” he surveyed her with an analytical eye.

“are ya sure?”

“joel, please?” she’d moved closer so her cunt sat inches from his cock, her warmth radiating onto him.

“i-” he went to say something, but seeing her flushed skin, her lust-blown eyes and the plea to fuck him, he seceded.

he pulled her up by her thighs, so she hovered over his cock. she used her hand to hold it steady, before he helped her lower onto him. it took a try or two, with his cock bumping against her clit and making her jolt. his tip caught her entrance in just another moment, though, and she took in a deep breath as she sunk onto him.

“fuck-” his response made up for her wordless one, her face contorting in pleasure as she tried to handle the size of him in her.

“joel-” she needed a moment to adjust, and it seemed as though he’d realized even before her.

“take your time, sweetheart.” she took a deep breath, sinking into joel’s arms further as she felt his thumb over her clit, trying to make the process easier for her.

finally, she mustered the strength to grip onto his shoulders, his hand finding a firm place on her waist, as she strained the muscles in her thighs to lift herself up. she felt a moment of aching emptiness, before she sunk back down on him, his cock catching practically every sensitive spot inside of her, making her moan.

it was a bit laborious, but along with his own effort, they came to a working rhythm seamlessly, and her moans began to be matched by his grunts at the feeling of her warm cunt, enveloping and twitching around him. she felt fucking amazing, and the warm breath of her gasps spurred him to push against her with just that bit more force. her eyes widened, her moans breaking as her breath caught in her throat. she felt her muscles turn to jelly with each thrust, practically being held up just by his hands. her head falls against his shoulder, her breath stuttering. his pace didn’t relent, though, with him readjusting just slightly to do the brunt of the work, fucking up into her as she tried not to let the pleasure consume her.

“joel - joel, you’re, oh, fuck-” she became a mess of mumbles as she attempted to just take it, but she felt her second orgasm oncoming, and way too quickly.

“c’mon, c’mon-” even joel wasn’t really registering what he was saying, focusing on feeling her cunt pulse again, like it had around his fingers. she didn’t make him wait too long, as her mouth fell open and her body tensed, clamming up as her orgasm crashed over her. his name came out in a squeak, and he resisted the urge to moan too loudly by attaching his lips to her neck, taking in the feeling of her pulsating cunt.

she slumped against him, desperately trying to catch her breath, before she was reminded her was still inside her. he helped her off of him and, before he could do anything else, she kneeled back in front of him, positioning her face right in front of his cock and stroking him to completion, his warm cum falling over her face in ropes.

“jesus christ, sweetheart.” he had to physically turn away from her, worried he’d get hard again at the sight, and she let out a tired laugh at his reaction. she rose from the bed after a moment of catching her breath, turning into her bathroom in order to clean herself up. it only took a minute or two, and by the time she’d walked back, joel had managed to pull his jeans back over him, and was desperately searching for his shirt. it was just by her feet, and she could give it to him.

but did she want to?

both of their heads snapped up when they heard the sound of the front door opening.

nicky - she’d come back at her sister’s previously preferred time, 5, and that had become increasingly problematic.

“shit-” she threw his shirt at him, and he caught it with one hand, trying to adjust the button of his pants with the other, “what do we-?” she questioned, as she pulled her shorts over her legs and shirt over her own head.

“just say ya were showing me around?” he suggested, and, through a shaky breath, she nodded.

“smart - smart, uh, do we-?” she gestured to herself, hoping she looked presentable, and the both of them gave each other a once over in approval that neither looked too disheveled, before they opened the door.

of course, those post-orgasm should never be told to rationally judge anything, as nicky and sarah could tell something was off from practically the moment their family members stepped out of the room.

“nicky? you didn’t have to be back so early, you know.” she said it quickly, without thinking, and, upon seeing joel’s what the fuck? expression, she realized how bad it sounded. nicky had, too, her brows furrowing as she turned to sarah, who simply shrugged in similar confusion.

“i’m sorry?” she watched as her sister - and then, to her surprise, mr. miller - came down the stairs.

“that’s not what i meant.” her sister mumbled, a sheepish smile on her face.

“dad, what’re you doing here?” sarah looks at her father quizzically, and he opens his mouth to speak, as she does at the same time.

“just - showing me around-”

“i’m giving him a tour!” they spoke over each other, and she glanced to look at him in slight embarrassment. he was trying his absolute hardest to keep from chuckling.

“anyways, sarah, we should get going. you two have fun?” sarah still looked between the both of them inquisitively, as nicky bore a glare at her sister, as if asking a question telepathically.

“lots of fun, dad.” it’s got an awkward delivery, so he coughs in an attempt to dissuade the tension, turning to her once more.

“it was nice meeting you, then - the both of you.” he smiled at nicky as well, before reuniting with his daughter.

“of course! it was great to see you again, too, sarah.” she mentioned, as she opened the front door for the both of them.

“see you around, sarah. good evening, mr. miller.” nicky spoke from behind her, and the millers nodded in goodbye. the front door shut with a click behind them.

there was a moment of silence between her and nicky, as she leaned against the door, before nicky broke into a big smile.

“i can’t believe you did that.” panic flashed over her face, and she whipped her head to face nicky.

“huh?”

“he’s so much older than you. and my friend’s dad, c’mon!” she sounded annoyed, but the exaggerated nature indicated that it was fake. she immediately tried to deny her sister’s completely true assertion, but the younger girl practically laughed in her face. she rolled her eyes at the reaction, brushing her off.

“shut up, nicky. he’s not even that much older than me.”

only a few meters away, sarah was trying very hard to suppress her own laugh.

“she’s really nice, right, dad?” joel, who had a faraway look in his eyes, hummed in response, prompting her to continue, “nicky’s sister. she’s really nice.”

“yeah - yeah, she is.” joel shrugged, unsure of how exactly to respond to his daughter. he looked down at her, and she had this glint of mischievousness in her eyes.

it worried him.

as he ushered her in when he’d unlocked the door, she’d made a beeline for her room. though, before she made her way up the stairs, she turned back for a moment, looking at him.

“and dad? you’re shirt’s on backwards.” she doesn’t wait for his response, walking up the stairs. shocked, joel looks down at his shirt, where the tag was practically looking him in the face. he sighed, closing the door behind him.

“shit.”

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