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ddejavvu · 5 days ago

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Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox

A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule.

It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.

Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are.

Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.

Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.

Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

“What, Hangman?��

“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”

He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.

“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”

The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”

You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.

“Truce.”

He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”

“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”

“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”

The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.

“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”

“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”

“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”

“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”

“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”

“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”

“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”

“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”

“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”

“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.

“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”

“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”

“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.

There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.

“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.

“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”

He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”

“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”

Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.

“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.

Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”

You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”

You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.

You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.

“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”

“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”

“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.

You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment.

“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”

“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.

“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”

You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.

Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.

Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”

You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”

“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”

He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.

“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.

“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”

“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.

“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”

His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.

There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.

Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.

Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.

You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.

“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”

“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”

“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”

“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”

You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.

“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”

“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”

Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”

You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.

You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be.

You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.

It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.

You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you.

“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.

“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”

“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”

“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”

“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”

“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.

Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.

“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.

“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”

“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”

Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.

“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”

You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.

You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.

“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.

His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.

Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out.

Jake has never been gentle before.

“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.

“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to.

Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.

Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win.

This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.

“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.

“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”

“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”

“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.

Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.

He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged.

“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”

Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel.

You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own.

“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”

“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”

“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”

“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”

“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”

“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”

You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven.

Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.

“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”

He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.

He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.

“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.

You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.

“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”

Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”

Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.

“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”

“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”

“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”

“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale, and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”

You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.

You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed.

You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it.

Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.

You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.

You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.

“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.

“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”

“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”

“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.

Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.

“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”

“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”

“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”

“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.

You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.

Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.

“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.

“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”

“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”

“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”

“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”

“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”

“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”

“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”

“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”

You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”

“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”

“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.

“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”

“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”

“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”

“He’s not in love with me-!”

“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.

You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”

“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”

“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation.

You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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padawansuggest · 1 year ago

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Okay so on Coruscant there are very few people that don’t actually go out into the streets (I’m thinking politicians and Jedi might be some of the few who don’t have to go outside very often if at all because the senate and the temple are both the size of a small city) which means that 1: they NEED to have vitamin D lights on the streets of Coruscant because otherwise everyone would be depressed like in the deepest winter at all times. And 2: that means I think the Jedi temple and the senate themselves also are just full of Vitamin D lights.

Also y’all need to stop writing fics where kids are afraid of ‘getting caught sneaking around after dark’ or something because the temple is literally so full of species that you have no idea of that kid is nocturnal or whatever. They very well could be. Tbh I wanna write a fic where someone catches Obi-Wan sneaking around at night to play a prank with Quin or something and he’s all ‘bruh my eyes glow in the dark I’m obviously meant to be awake at this hour’ and no one can argue with him. Stuff like that.

Also I think the temple neeeeeeeds multiple healing halls (once more. It is the size of a small city) one in the aquatic center of the temple (which canonically exists) one in the temple main (which should span over like four levels and act as it’s own building okay) and one in the creche. This is the MINIMUM amount of healing halls I think they should have.

A tram system should be inside the walls. Places in the temple that act as sideways lifts and also a subway system because believe it or not, there are species in the temple as small as one foot tall, and I’m not just talking about Grogu, I’m talking about others like Kushiban and others similar. Once more. It is the size of a small city. They should have both subway type stations (that take you certain places like the main healing halls or the biggest canteen or the supply sector of the temple things like that) because oh my god imagine how many hours the commute to your workstation could take if you didn’t have that shit. Annoying af.

They gotta have names for all the different canteens okay. Like ‘meet me in the cafeteria’ in a temple the size of a small city is bullshit cause even in the books they have multiple cafeterias.

A… let’s call it a Mall Section of the temple. A place where you can pick up groceries (the temple makes their own food and I assume most of it is cooked in careens but also not letting people cook their own food is a recipe for a Jedi starving to death on a mission lmao) but they also have a salon (skin care and hair care are very important and if you let all these babies cut their own hair they gonna turn out like me no one wants that) and a clothing ‘store’ where you can get certain size clothes and robes from, or even undercover mission clothes. There need to be Jedi in these places too!!! Imagine going to the salon with your master and having a gossip talk about your new lineage member!!! It’s important to society!!!

A Jedi movie theater where the masters send their kiddos on the weekend so they can enjoy a glass of wine and not be sneezed on for three hours.

I’ve actually seen a few mentions in fics and posts about tea salons so that is def also a thing. It’s the Jedi version of a cafe. I think people who like baking take turns working there and everyone chips in for tea selections and stuff.

Droid Ubers. They need to get somewhere but feel sick as heck and it’s not near any good lifts or the subway trams??? Call a droid Uber lmao. It shouldn’t be unusual either lol just grandmaster on his way to bother his kid while not aggravating his hip after hip surgery.

Remember that Jedi who are like 10 foot tall also exist so remember there ARE apartments in the temple that could fit Kenobi’s Dino-Horse girl Boga.

There should also be apartments with like 10 bedrooms and bathrooms (or even one giant communal bathroom) around a singular living/cooking space!!! Let Jedi live in communes!!!!

The aquatic levels of the creche are def the cutest place in the temple you can’t argue with me on the idea of water babies swimming and cuddling under water.

On another note to the fact that species like Kushiban exist???? Imagine tiny doors and corridors that used to be used by mouse droids but they became so useful to tiny Jedi so they got taken over. Just imagine that.

Bartering markets where Jedi trade things, mostly things they get on missions or are given to them as gifts, nothing goes to waste so they find a proper place for all gifts and extras here.

Cooking classes. Obi-Wan has been kicked out of all of them his cooking is so bad. Anakin claims bullshit he loves Master’s cooking! But then, he also eats worms…

Anyways. Y’all too single minded with this shit. It just be all ‘cafeteria, living quarters, healing halls and archives’ with you guys. Where is the culture. Where is the acknowledgment of multiple species all living in the same area taking place in a culture of peace and galactic exploration???? Give them a liquor store idgaf.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #the Jedi

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thefallennightmare · 4 months ago

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That December Night-One

*image not mine*

Pairings: Matt Dierkes x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: swearing, smut(18+), angst, fluff, pregnancy/babydaddy!matt, talks of pregnancy.

Summary: "Fuck around and find out." Reader never thought it meant literally until it happened to her. One night of what was supposed to be harmless kissing managed to turn her entire world upside down.

A/N: The idea for this story came from this post and mine and @artificialbreezy's texting back and forth. So thank you so much babe for the ideas you contributed to this story. It's going to be a fun one! Also, I apologize if the sections seem pretty small, I plan on having the most exciting things happen in the next two chapters. This one was a simple build-up!

Tags: @loeytuan98 @thatchickwiththecamera @dsireland86 @iknownothingpeople @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @cookiesupplier @heyyoplayer @myownthoughts12 @vinyardmaurao @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @itsafullmoon @shilohrosechicken @klutzy-kay24 @shadowseve @blueskylinesx @exitwoundsx @thisbicc @pathion @cookiesupplier @sammyjoeee @whenthesummerdies @flowery-mess @xxkittenkissesxx @its-inourblood @madomens @collidewiththesavannah @xserena-13 @cncohshit @rain-down-on-me @sorrowsofsilence @jilliemiw86

READER

I should not be doing this, especially in this stranger's car.

This was so wrong. So fucking wrong.

But it felt so right.

He felt so right.

What started as a weekend trip to Los Angeles to visit my now ex boyfriend ended up with me in the backseat of this man’s car; a man I had met less than an hour ago.

My ex, Fred, had moved here a few weeks ago for work, which put a huge strain on our two year relationship. So after working it out with one of my best friends that lived here as well, I decided to come surprise him. She said they’ll be at a party for some rock stars that released an album a few weeks ago. None of that mattered, I only cared to see Fred.

So after flying in from Vermont, taking an Uber all the way from the airport to the other side of the city and spending a pretty penny on it, I maneuvered my way inside the over-packed house filled with bodies, trying to find Fred. My eyes briefly landed on who I assumed were the “rockstars.” Four guys were covered in ink, especially the one with brown swoopy hair, but they all wore goofy smiles as they talked amongst themselves. I marveled at how they seemed like a family and wondered what that was like.

Focus, Y/N.

“Sorry,” I murmured after I bumped into a strong chest.

My eyes flicked up to a man whose eyes were covered by the rim of his hat, golden waves of hair falling around his shoulders.

“You’re fine,” his hands gripped my elbows to keep me steady.

It felt like every part of my soul was lit ablaze by his touch and gaze upon me and I sucked in a breath when I noticed his shirt.

Lord of The Rings.

One of my favorite movies.

Clearing my throat, I ignored the way my heart fluttered when the man’s lips curled up in a faint smile after he caught me staring, and excused myself from him with a nod. His eyes lingered on my back as I scurried throughout the rest of the house to find Fred. I knew it was this house he was at, my friend sent me their pinned location.

After coming up empty on the main floor of the house, I pushed my way through the sea of bodies once again, all of them raising their drinks to the rock stars for a “Kick ass album! Can’t wait for the new era!” Their cheers fell on deaf ears as I climbed the staircase towards where the bedrooms were, hoping yet not hoping to find Fred in one of them.

So naive.

I stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching as Fred had his face buried deep into some woman's pussy.

No, not just any woman.

My best friend.

With tears burning in my eyes, I turned my back to them, unnoticed, and nearly tripped over my feet as I ran down the stairs; once again nearly falling into someone's embrace.

“Woah, easy there. Did you see a ghost or something?” His chest rumbled with laughter, only to snap his mouth shut when he saw the tears running down my face.

It was the same man I had run into earlier, the one with the Lord Of The Rings shirt.

“Shit,” he cursed. “Are you alright?”

“Uh,” I stood straighter, his hands still resting on my hips. I stood on the stairs, two steps above him so I could stare down at him. “I’m fine. I was just leaving.”

The man didn’t say anything for a long moment, simply watching my face as a way to try and read my mind. Just as his mouth parted to speak, I heard my name from behind me at the top of the staircase.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Fred making his way down slowly with my friend trailing behind him. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt before giving me a smile.

“Hey baby! I didn’t know you were flying in!”

Tears welled in my eyes again, my heart breaking at the scene I saw less than five minutes ago. Two years of love and what I thought eventually marriage thrown away by lust and lies.

The man at the bottom of the stairs noticed the way my body shook in his embrace as I continued to stare at Fred.

“Do I need to kick his ass?” he asked.

Turning my head towards the man, I blew out a shaky breath. “Can you get me out of here? Please?”

His smile faltered but immediately nodded, leading me through the crowd of people and away from Fred, who called after me.

“Where can I take you?” The man asked as we neared the front door, halting for a moment to glance back at my face.

Anywhere is better than here.

“My hotel,” I choked out, doing my best to keep the sobs locked away.

I wouldn’t cry. Not for Fred.

I should have said no, I could find my own way back to my hotel that there was no use for anymore since I was leaving in the morning. But there was something soft in the way his thumb brushed away the tears from my face that eased away the fear of who this man truly was. So I accepted his offer to drive me back to my hotel since it was pretty late and I knew that this area could be dangerous in the dark.

It was mid December in Los Angeles, a vast difference to Vermont. Something the man made fun of when he noticed me take off my bulky cardigan as soon as we stepped outside.

“You’re not from here, are you?” He chuckled his question as we walked down the street toward his car.

I sniffled and wiped my nose on the back of my hand. “No. I fucking flew all the way from Vermont to surprise that asshole only to find him tongue fucking my best friend. How fucking cliche is that?!” I rambled on, my voice a lost echo into the night sky.

He hummed while shrugging. “Clearly it’s his loss.”

With him holding the passenger side door open for me, I slipped inside just as rain began to fall from the sky, drenching him instantly. I couldn’t help but chuckle in my broken state as he ran around the car, splashing a puddle that drenched his pants from knees down.

“How the fuck did I manage to step in the only puddle,” he cursed himself once he sat behind the steering wheel, shaking the rain out from his hair.

He cocked his head to the side as he stared at me. “I’m glad you think this is funny.”

“Hey compared to what just happened to me, I’d rather fall face first into three puddles,” I admitted with a laugh.

The man’s face softened when my laugh filled the car and after a moment, he pulled away from the curb once I told him what hotel I was staying at. During the entire car ride, neither of us said a word. I let my mind wander back to Fred, my phone buzzing non stop since I left that house. I knew that he was the one calling and texting but I couldn’t be bothered to check. He was the one that threw away two years, not me. I refused to falter back into Fred, let him sweet talk his way into my heart only for him to do the same thing.

I made a promise to myself at that moment to never let another man into my heart. The pain that ate away inside of me was debilitating. I was too independent of a woman to allow another man to use and lie to me. No man was worth this hurt.

Yet, as this man pulled up to my hotel and sat back in his seat with his body facing me, I could feel the sudden sexual tension. I’d never been one to think that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. There was no way that bullshit actually worked. If I actually believed that line of thinking, then why couldn’t I ignore the aura of this man as it radiated through the car. His presence alone was enough to make me hold my breath and clench my knees together when his gaze burned on the side of my face. I knew from the moment his hands wrapped around me that I’d be drawn to him and this quick car ride back would be anything but quick.

Which is where I currently found myself after we both whispered our agreement to each other.

Just one night.

“Fuck,” I breathed when teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh of my neck before lips attacked mine yet again.

The man underneath me moaned as I rolled my hips over his, the hardness of his cock pressing against the inside of my thigh. The windows of the car fogged up with the heat of our kiss, so intense, so sloppy, but neither of us cared. I pulled at his shirt, lifting him closer to me as he lounged in the back seat. His fingers dragged over the material of my jeans, guiding my clothed core over his cock.

“Fuck baby, I knew from the second you walked in the room tonight, I’d have you in this position,” he grunted while running his hand underneath my shirt to toss it up over me onto the front seat.

I shivered as the cool air of the car brushed against my bare chest, his eyes darkening at the sight of my peaked nipples. His tongue danced around my left one while his fingers played with my right, often switching between the two.

The rain fell against the car as a soft tune from the radio acted as background noise as we continued to make out in the back seat.

“I don’t-“, I panted when his free hand worked at the button on my jeans. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Matt,” he rasped while helping me shimmy out of my jeans which were quite difficult in our position in the back seat.

Matt had a simple Toyota Corolla making it nearly impossible to get comfortable.

I broke apart our kiss to help him out of his shirt, digging my nails into the soft flesh of his chest. “Y/N”.

A noise crawled from the back of his throat as he repeated my name and hooked a finger in my panties.

“Well, Y/N, are you going to be a good fucking girl for me and let me taste you? I can smell you staining my leather seats and I’m desperate.”

Holy hell.

An unknown feeling ignited in my lower gut when Matt laid me down on the seat and leisurely dragged the lacy material down my legs. I raised my hips up towards him, silently begging him.

“I never heard an answer, Y/N,” he let my panties hang loosely on my ankle.

My bottom lip caught between my teeth, unable to speak because I was afraid my admission would seize all actions. I felt Matt’s warm breath fan over my core after he positioned us so he was able to kneel on the back seat, one of my legs against the back windshield and the other resting on the floor.

“I-uh,” I covered my face with my hands, suddenly very embarrassed and exposed in front of him as I lay completely bare for him.

“Hey,” Matt’s voice was low as he reached for my hands to remove them from my face. “Don’t hide from me.”

His hair fell into his face while he loomed over me thanks to me knocking off his hat when I first jumped in his lap. I brushed away the golden locks so I could now see his face in his entirety.

He was gorgeous.

Letting out a breath, I finally let it slip why I was hiding from him.

“I’ve never had that before,” I motioned towards my pussy.

Matt gazed at me with furrowed brows but then the lines in his forehead cleared when he realized what I meant.

“Wait,” he sat back on his knees now while I sat up on my elbows. “You mean to tell me that fucking prick never ate you out before but you caught him down on another woman?”

I pursed my lips while shaking my head. “Kind of fucked up when you think about it.”

Matt let out a low growl before pulling my knees to my chest, my panties that were still hanging on my ankle flying off to somewhere in the car.

“Can I be the first one that gets to taste you, baby? Hm?” His voice was nearly gone, overtaken by whatever consumed him.

I reached for his head that was perched between my legs and urged him forward. “Please.”

Matt’s warm tongue flicked over my slick folds and I moaned out his name while running my hands through his hair, hips bucking up into his mouth when he pressed the tip of his tongue on my clit.

"Shit," I breathed, eyes fluttering shut.

This is what I'm missing? It only urged my anger tenfold for the scene I walked into back at the house.

"Fuck, baby. I'd get on my knees every day for you. You taste so fucking good," Matt murmured briefly pulling away from my clit.

I hissed in pleasure when his teeth grazed over it before wrapping his lips over my sensitive bud and began sucking. A long finger slid between my folds as he hooked that finger inside of me. With his mouth biting and sucking on my clit and his finger pumping in and out of me, I felt the coil in my lower belly pull tight. I peered down and moaned at the sight of Matt’s eyes closed shut as he devoured all of me. His nails dug into the skin of my thighs as he pushed my legs closer to my chest. I grasped at the roots of his hair as I rode his face closer to my release; it was so close.

"I can feel you clench around my fingers, Y/N. You’re so close,” Matt pulled away from my pussy to glance up at me, the sight of his mouth covered in my arousal unholy.

“Matt, I just want to cum,” I begged, breathless when his mouth tongue flicked over my clit again.

Two more pumps of his fingers were my undoing as the coil finally snapped, my release shaking my entire body.

Matt hummed in delight before pressing a tender kiss to my thigh and then worked himself out of his pants.

“God, I need more of you, baby. Can I fuck that pretty pussy?” He asked with his hand wrapped around his cock.

My eyes nearly widened when I noticed the size of him and I let out a nervous breath, something Matt noticed as he maneuvered us so I was straddling him in the middle seat, the head of his cock brushing along my folds before slipping in slowly.

I hissed, digging my nails into his broad shoulders. “Matt.”

His nose skimmed along my neck. “It’s alright, baby. I’ll go slow. We can’t rush perfect things.

But that wasn’t why I was stopping him.

“Do you have a condom?” I asked, pulling away so I could gaze down at him.

My heart was pounding so loud in my chest I could hear each beat in my ears, the sight of Matt looking so blissed out even before reaching his own release. But then his face faltered at my words.

“Fuck,” he cursed while running a hand down his face. “I didn’t expect to have sex tonight, if I’m being honest. You’re not on anything?”

I merely shook my head before letting my shoulders fall, along with my forehead against his shoulder. I’d been so wound up from our make out session earlier and with his mouth devouring me, to have everything ripped from me because neither of us were prepared made me groan.

“Just the head then, yea? How does that sound, baby?” Matt dug his fingers into my hips as he slowly sank the tip of his cock inside of me again.

“Fuck,” the word dragged out of my mouth, muffled by his shoulder. “O-oh-okay.”

His chest rumbled beneath me as he laguidly fucked me with just the head of his cock. It felt so good, dragging in and out of me as my walls clenched desperately for more.

I needed more.

Arching myself back from him, I eased farther down on his cock at my own pace, slowly taking every inch of him. Matt choked on a breath once I was fully seated on him and wrapped an arm around me to pull me flush against his chest, our lips meeting in a tangled mess of tongues and saliva. His thrusts were unrelenting, the sound of skin slapping against skin overpowering the noise of the raging thunderstorm outside.

Matt felt nothing like Fred; he felt more full, more fulfilling. The thought lingered in the back of my mind that this one night would be a hard one to forget.

“Such a slut for my cock, yeah? Look at you, taking all of me,” Matt praised with a hard snap of his hips, causing me to cry out before his mouth covered mine in a kiss so fierce it made my head spin.

We were both lost in the haze we immersed ourselves in, souls and body intertwined with each other, that neither of us stopped it when my second orgasm washed over me seconds before Matt’s cock twitched, him spilling himself deep inside of me.

I collapsed against his chest as his arms encircled around me, both of us coming down from the high we shared. I let the even beats of his heart bring me back to the present, suddenly realizing what exactly just happened. Slowly rising off of his softer dick, I began searching for my clothes to slip them on.

Matt ran a hand through his hair before following me in getting dressed. With his hat perched back on his head, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Um, I’m not sure what to say.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at how vast his demeanor changed from a man spewing filthy things to someone who messed with the ends of his shirt nervously.

“Thank you,” I spoke. “For taking me away from Fred, driving me to my hotel, and making me forget everything for the time being.”

Matt nodded with a smile. “Promise you won’t go crawling back to him?”

Snorting, I buried myself in my oversized cardigan and shook my head. “Hell no. He can fucking rot. I’m going to focus on myself for a little while.”

Calloused fingers brushed away the strands of hair from my face before trailing down the side of my neck. “Take care of yourself, Y/N. You deserve nothing but happiness.”

I pressed a gentle kiss into his palm, my words lingering in the air after I slipped out from the car.

“Be good, Matt.”

MATT

I sat in the backseat of the car for a few beats, long after Y/N ran through the rain towards the hotel, and tried to understand what exactly happened. When we first began the album release party for Bad Omens, I had every intention of remaining professional as their manager, making sure everything ran smoothly. Yet, the moment Y/N stumbled into my arms and I drank in those doe eyes when she stared up at me, I knew I was done for.

That simple action was enough to drag me down to the depths of her. Every fiber of my being craved her, physically and spiritually. Now that I had a taste of her, I knew it would be difficult to forget the way she felt coming undone on my cock.

Groaning, I dragged a hand down my face before clambering back into the driver's seat, finally heading back to Davis’ house where the party was being held. I knew Noah was waiting for me so we could ride back home together. I could only hope that he didn’t notice I slipped away from the party for an hour.

Pulling the car up to the curb at his tall figure shielding himself from the rain with his jacket, Noah slipped into the front seat and shook out the water all over me and the leather.

“Watch it!” I chastised him, almost forgetting the mess that was left in the back seat.

Noah’s nostrils flared for a moment. “Why does it smell like sex in here?”

“Wh-what?” I stammered with crimson cheeks.

“It smells like sex in here,” he chuckled while looking over his shoulder to the back seat. “Where the hell did you run off to anyway?”

I shrugged, finally driving back towards our house, the opposite way of where I dropped Y/N off.

“I took someone home,” I answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I watched in horror as Noah reached for the gear shift to unhook a pair of yellow lace panties.

“Hm,” he hummed low, twirling them between his fingers. “Someone left something important behind.”

Cursing, I snatched the panties from Noah and pocketed them into my joggers.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

He let out a belt of laughter before easing himself into the seat, long limbs stretched out. “Was it the girl I saw you with your arms around earlier? At the bottom of the stairs?”

My silence was my answer as I gripped the steering wheel, trying so hard to forget the way Y/N tasted, her arousal still lingering on my lips.

“Did you get her number?”

I shook my head with a sigh. “We both agreed it would be a one night thing. She’s from Vermont and is leaving in the morning. I won’t see her again.”

I couldn’t ignore the way my heart sank to my stomach.

“At least tell me you were safe,” Noah questioned, which caused me to shift in the driver's seat.

“Dude!” He groaned, leaning over towards the glove compartment to pull out a brand new box of condoms.

My eyes darted from the road to it. “Where the fuck did those come from?”

He shrugged, tossing it back into the compartment. “I stocked them up after I used the last one.”

I slammed on the breaks as I came to a stop at a red light, narrowed eyes pinning him in his place. “Are you telling me you fucked someone in my car?”

“Shit,” Noah grimaced. “I didn't mean to blurt that out. It was the time my car was in the shop and Adreanna couldn’t wait until we got home.”

His girlfriend.

“You’re a fucking dick,” I spat as the light turned green, inching closer and closer to our shared home. “I can’t believe there were condoms right there the entire time.”

He raised a teasing brow. “Too busy to check, huh?”

I punched his shoulder before pulling into the driveway and he rubbed at the growing red mark, still laughing his ass off.

“Let’s hope she doesn't show up in a year with a baby claiming it's yours,” he said and then clambered out of the car.

I sat there for a moment, letting his words sink deep within my bones, only one thought running through my mind.

Wouldn’t that be nice.

READER

No.

No. No. No.

This is all a dream, a nightmare. One that I’m bound to wake up from any moment with a breath of relief.

Right, if it's a dream then why are you holding two positive tests and an ultrasound?

The thought made my stomach and shoulders fall in succession, knowing that there was no way I could deny it any longer. The last couple of months of constant morning sickness and sensitivity to certain smells were easy to ignore but the third month of no period was not. I knew my body was changing, my breast becoming sensitive to the touch and the sudden yet noticeable weight gain. It was evident that I was pregnant, something I told myself weeks ago, but I still tried to ignore because it couldn’t possibly be true.

So now, here I was standing in the middle of my bathroom glaring down at the two positive pregnancy tests and the three ultrasound pictures. The doctor estimated I was roughly 12 weeks along and almost quickly, I knew who the father was.

I’d only slept with one man the last three months and he was currently living his life in sunny Los Angeles. Yes, we had sex unprotected but I took the morning after pill as soon as I stepped foot back in Vermont, not having the time before my flight to stop and pick one up; something I made known to the doctor earlier today.

“Those don’t work all the time. It could be that you waited too long after intercourse to take it.”

With shaking hands, I set them down on the bathroom counter and dragged my feet over to my bedroom across the hall where my laptop sat on my desk. I knew what I had to do, me making the decision on the car ride back home from my appointment that I would keep this baby and raise it by myself if need be. I made decent money at my job so I could live somewhat comfortably. I didn’t need Matt’s help, I wouldn’t force him into something he didn’t want only for him to leave years later when it got too hard for him.

He still deserved to know, though. So now came the hard part of finding out exactly who this Matt was. Neither of us divulged more of our lives besides our names that night so it took me some time scouring my brain to remember the name of the band the party was for.

Good Almonds?

Secret Omens?

“Fuck, this pregnancy brain is no joke,” I groaned while resting my forehead on the cool wood of my desk.

I’d also picked up one of those pregnancy books earlier and spent a few hours reading everything regarding the first trimester, which I had just surpassed. Rubbing my small bump, I sat up straighter in my chair and let my eyes flutter shut.

“Alright baby, help me out here. Help me find your dad,” I muttered.

Bad Omens.

Snapping my eyes open, I hastily typed ‘Bad Omens Matt’ into google's search bar and watched as lists of websites appeared on screen, clicking on the first one.

Matt Dierkes (mattxdierkes) • Instagram photos and videos.

I let out a breath I had no idea I’d been holding and clicked through his instagram profile, not being able to hide the smile when I saw a picture of him holding a small dog against his chest. I tried to think of the best way to go about this. It would be wrong of me to send him a direct message to tell him the news, something he could easily ignore or claim was false.

He needed to see it for himself.

After spending a few more minutes researching, I found out that Matt was not only Bad Omens tour manager but he worked in their front of house as well and they were gearing up to head out on the road for a three week long tour across the U.S which started in two weeks.

Gnawing on my lip, I had to make a decision. Wait until he is back home to tell him or fly out to Los Angeles before he leaves to tell him.

Clicking open a new tab, I searched up flights to California and once those were booked and paid for, I sat back in my chair and rubbed at my bump. I’d fly out next Friday evening and return Sunday morning. I couldn’t stay longer because I had work that Monday morning and I wanted to try and save up as much PTO as I could for maternity leave, my job offering a crappy version of it.

Stretching out my limbs, I rose from the chair only to make it a few steps to my bed, falling onto it with a puff of air. Along with pregnancy brain being something I’d been suffering from, so was the exhaustion. It felt like no matter how many hours I slept at night, by 2 in the afternoon, I was ready for bed.

Of course you’re tired, your body is growing a human.

I let the idea of me growing a tiny human made up of equal parts me and Matt lull me to sleep, those dark eyes plaguing my existence. I also couldn’t ignore the excitement that filled me knowing I’d be seeing him again.

MATT

Music blasted through the vast opening of the warehouse as we all tirelessly worked from sunrise to sunset packing up the trucks with all of our equipment. Bad Omens were about to head out on the road next week for their first tour with the new era and we all were buzzing with excitement. The set list was stacked, the visual and mixes were some of the best I’ve created so far. I spent the entire day with a smile on my face, ready for the future of not only mine but my best friends.

Although, it did feel like there was something missing in my life, something meaningful, but I couldn’t pinpoint on what it was exactly.

With a stack of metal rods in my arms, the ones we use to hang up the merch tent, I stepped out of the warehouse over towards the trucks where I met Nicholas, who suddenly stood frozen while looking past me.

“Oh please don’t tell me this is the situation I’m thinking it is and she’s here to claim it’s Noah’s.”

With a raised brow, I slowly turned to face his gaze and sucked in a breath at the sight. Y/N stood a few feet away from the truck, wringing her hands together with nerves as her eyes darted around the bodies, trying to find a certain one. Her soft strands of hair blue over her shoulder with the unusually cool summer breeze as the bright rays from the sun casted her bare shoulders in a golden hue, yet it paled in comparison to the yellow color of her sundress that rested just above her knees.

As my eyes traveled past the swell of her breast down to her lower half it was then that I realized exactly what Nicholas meant and I dropped all three metal rods I’d been carrying clattered to the concrete with a noise loud enough to echo blocks away.

Everyone froze to look over at me, who had yet to remove my gaze from Y/N’s stomach as she ran a hand over it, a silent indication of what I’d been wondering to myself. Noah, who was in the truck behind me packing it, surveyed the scene in front of him, darting back and forth between me and Y/N. He muttered something under his breath before giving me a push towards her, my body still in a state of shock and I nearly stumbled over my feet.

“Hi,” her voice shook with nerves when I stopped in front of her.

Now with the setting sun, I could see a patch of freckles covering her nose and cheeks. I noticed she had only one dimple on her left cheek when she gave me a small smile.

But her eyes? Fuck, they still managed to pull me in nearly four months later. All I could think about was one simple thing: I hope she’s here to tell me that it’s mine.

READER

“H-hi,” Matt cleared his throat while stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his shorts and it was then I finally noticed the colorful tattoo on his right leg. “What are you doing here?”

Blinking away from his thighs, I rubbed a hand over my small bump. “I’m pretty sure you can guess.”

His eyes flicked down so fast I nearly missed it. “It’s mine?”

I already told myself not to get upset when he questioned it because I knew he would. I would have been more shocked if he didn’t.

“It’s yours, Matt. You’re the only guy I had sex with in the last four months and unprotected,” I replied.

Matt glanced over his shoulder to one of the guys hanging out in the large truck and I recognized him from the party that December night; the one covered in tattoos.

“I only found out last week. I guess I tried to ignore it in hopes that it was all a dream because the last thing I needed was a baby,” I admitted while shifting on my feet.

He turned his attention back towards me. “Are you going to keep it? It’s obviously your choice. I’ll support you with whatever you decide so please don’t think I’m pressuring you into something because that’s not what I’m trying to do.”

As he rambled on, I gave a curt nod. “I do plan on keeping it. I didn’t expect to get pregnant before falling in love and getting married but when has anything in my life been traditional? I’m used to doing things on my own so this won’t be any different.”

Matt’s muscles constricted underneath his Cannibal Corpse shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Who said you were doing this alone?”

“Uh. I just figured that with how busy you are that you wouldn’t want to be bothered with a kid. I only came out here to tell you in person because it felt wrong to tell you in an Instagram message.”

He snorted, nostrils flaring, and took a tentative step towards me. “You don’t think it’s wrong to make assumptions about me?”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and forced myself to break the intense stare down between us. Suddenly being underneath his hot gaze, I felt the pep talk I spent all afternoon telling myself slipping through my grasp. Bile rose in my throat, part because of the pregnancy and part because of the nerves I felt flowing through me.

“You’re coming on the road with me.”

His stern voice caused me to whirl my head back towards him, my hair flowing over my shoulders. “Excuse me? I didn’t expect you to drop everything in your life for this baby so you can’t expect me to just uproot my life to please you!”

"I've never been one to half-ass anything, Y/N!" Matt bit out with a clenched jaw. His hands were perched low on his hip as my sudden news turned his world upside down.

My hands rested on my stomach as I took a deep breath, to calm myself. My blood pressure at my appointment last week was a little concerning so my doctor made sure to tell me to take it easy, especially in these early months. The large group of people a few feet behind him pretended to keep themselves busy with work but I knew they'd been eavesdropping since I showed up a few minutes ago.

Matt also let out a deep breath to calm himself. "If we're going to do this then we're doing it together. But we can't do it together if you're halfway across the world from me."

I scoffed, still not quite ready to jump into the idea of packing up my life for the next month to live on the road with a man I had only met one night back in December.

Just over three months ago.

"And if I say no?" I scoffed, my own hands perched on my hips.

Those dark eyes sliced into me from underneath his hat and he took a step closer towards me. I could feel his warm breath across my lips and the sudden hunger to taste him again was overtaking me.

"You're carrying my child, Y/N. There's no way I'm letting you leave now. Not again. Not like I did that night."

I wasn’t sure if it was because of the blazing sun, the nearly 90 degree heat, or the way Matt’s words cut deep that made my surroundings suddenly spin causing my body to go limp into his embrace.

“Shit,” he cursed as he reached out to catch me from hitting the ground below and lifted my limp body into his arms.

“I don’t feel so good,” I murmured into his neck, my body suddenly feeling clammy and drained of energy.

“Hang on baby,” Matt cooed while carrying me into the warehouse where the cool air fell away against my still heated skin.

Gently, he sat me down in a metal chair and cupped my cheeks so I could look at him with heavy eyes.

“When was the last time you ate something?” He wondered.

I blinked slowly, trying my best to keep the bile that raised in my throat down, and let out a weak response.

“Not since this morning.”

The words tangled together as I felt a wave of nausea wash over me and Matt cursed again while yelling something to someone, it being white noise as I felt my body growing heavier.

“Drink some water,” Matt urged me with a hushed voice, bringing a bottle to my lips and helping me take in some, the cool liquid easing down the urge to throw up everywhere.

Next he took a granola bar from a heavily tattooed hand and waved it in front of my nose, causing me to wretch back away from it.

Peanut butter.

I fucking hated the smell of peanut butter.

“Y/N, you need to eat something,” Matt’s voice was sharp, along with his gaze on me.

I cringed. “The baby hates peanut butter.”

He let out a low rumble of laughter before looking up at the man behind him. “Noah, can you go look in Jolly’s stash? I think I saw fruit or something in there.”

“Oh, the baby loves bananas,” I perked up, the little bit of water intake bringing life back into me slowly.

The man, Noah, smiled brightly before running a hand through his curtain styled hair. “One banana coming right up.”

After he dashed to the other side of the warehouse, Matt’s hands rested on my knee.

“You can’t forget to eat, Y/N,” he sighed.

“I’ve been feeling sick all morning and spent most of the afternoon before coming here asleep. The plane ride took a lot out of me. I guess I forgot,” I gave a limp shrug.

Worry etched on Matt’s face as he continued to kneel in front of me. “Can you even be flying?”

Noah returned with two bananas and I took them with a grateful smile when I noticed he even peeled them for me.

“I can fly until I’m thirty six weeks,” I answered after swallowing two mouthfuls of banana.

Noah stared down at me with his hands in his pockets. “How far along are you?”

“13 weeks.”

I could see Matt figure out the dates in his head, confirming what I had already told him.

“Due in September?” He asked, running his fingers over my knee, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Even in my weak state, I couldn’t deny how much I missed his touch as I nodded.

“September 4.”

The three of us sat in silence for a moment as I finished the bananas and drank a little bit more water.

“Feeling better?” Matt questioned.

I patted his hand reassuringly. “Very much, thank you.”

Noah squeezed my shoulder with a comforting touch. “I’d never seen Matt so freaked out before.”

Leaving us to ourselves, I met with worry behind those dark eyes of Matt’s and frowned.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” I breathed.

He huffed before taking off his hat, letting it rest on my lap while he ran a hand through his hair.

“Can you understand why I want you with me, Y/N? Imagine if this happened and no one was there to help you.”

This was the very first time one of these episodes happened and I had to admit, it scared the hell out of me so I couldn’t imagine the fear coursing through Matt when I collapsed into him.

Playing with the rim of his hat still on my lap, I eventually nodded. “Okay. But I have to settle things back at home and my job before leaving.

Matt did his best to hide his grin behind his hand as he scratched at his jaw, ultimately failing.

“We don’t leave until Thursday evening next week. Will that be enough time?”

My shoulders rose and fell. “It’ll have to be, I guess. I have some PTO from work that I can use. Do you want me to fly out back here or meet you at the first city?”

Matt placed his hat back on his head. “I’m going to fly out to Vermont on Wednesday so we can fly out to the first city together. I don’t like the idea of you on a plane by yourself.”

I raised a brow. “I’m literally getting on a plane tomorrow morning to fly back home. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is,” he adjusted his weight from one foot to the other, still kneeling in front of me. “It’s too late for me to buy a ticket to come with you. Plus, I still have a lot left to do here to make sure everything is packed and loaded properly.”

I hummed in response, eyes taking in the sight of everyone now moving about the warehouse again after realizing I was fine. They all conversed with each other, bright smiles on their faces as they understood every inside joke they shot back and forth.

“You guys seem like a big family,” I noted.

Matt agreed with a nod. “We are. We take care of each other.”

As the noise of everyone chatting fell around us, I fiddled with the ends of my dress, trying to gather the courage to say my next words, unsure if Matt would agree or even feel the same.

“I want to make sure you understand that just because we’re doing this parenting thing together does not mean we're together. We can co-parent but I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m still in the same spot when you first met me, Matt. I swore off relationships, it doesn't matter that we’re having a baby together.”

My gaze was trained hard on my chipped nail polish that I hadn’t seen the look of pure heartbreak flash over Matt’s face but he was quick to put that mask back up.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N. I’m not going to force anything on you. I’ll be here for you; as a friend.”

That, however, I did not miss; the way the word friend sounded bitter on his tongue.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” I said suddenly remembering something I had hidden in my purse.

With curious eyes, Matt took the ultrasound picture I retrieved from my purse and grazed his thumb over the black and white picture, over the small fetus. His eyes now glossy as he blew out a shaky breath.

“That’s-?” He coughed, trying to figure out his words.

I nodded while resting my hands over my small bump. “That’s our baby.”

Matt cast his gaze from the ultrasound to my bump, back and forth a few times almost as if he was trying to understand how the little baby in the picture was the one I was carrying. The lines next to his eyes crinkled and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“If we're going to do this together, Matt, you can touch it whenever you want. You don’t need to ask. This baby is half yours,” I assured him while reaching for his hand, placing it over my bump.

He let out a breath, finally being able to feel where his baby was, and it was as if everything was clicking into place for him. Our fingers linked together, both resting over the bundle of what we created that night together. While I hadn’t expected this outcome from me telling him, I was extremely grateful that he decided to stay with me. The fear of raising a baby on my own kept me up the last few nights.

I had meant what I told him, though. The last thing I was looking for was a relationship to make this between us even more messier than it already was. But when Matt leaned towards my bump to whisper something, I knew those words I had just spoken to myself in my brain were only that; words.

“Hi baby, I’m your dad.”

#tina talks #bad omens #bad omens cult #matt dierkes #matt dierkes fanfiction #matt dierkes smut #matt dierkes angst #babby daddy!matt #bad omens fics #bad omens angst #bad omens smut

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t1red-twilight · 2 months ago

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serotonin

content/warnings: gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (kinda)

notes: part 2 of through the ages is being worked on dw

word count: 1k

masterlist s. r. masterlist

you were doing your laundry when you got a call from penelope. twelve thirty is a bit late to be doing laundry, but alas, spencer wasn’t here to be upset at your “disrupted circadian rhythm.”

“hey, pen. what’s up?”

“um, actually it’s me,” spencer’s voice flooded your ears. why was he calling you from garcia’s cell? “my phone died. is there any way you could get to the hospital off to the left of main? i got in…trouble.” the last part was mumbled, like he didn’t want to admit it. that answered one question, but raised multiple others.

your brows shot into your hairline. “yeah, yeah. of course i can. are you doing okay?” you asked, already sliding shoes on your feet and grabbing your bag.

he exhaled before he responded. “i’m fine, i just rolled my ankle in the field. i broke it, actually.” the defeat was very evident in his tone. of course he had, he had the tendency to walk like a newborn giraffe, especially when he hadn’t slept (and you assumed that he definitely had not slept much the last few days).

locking the door behind you as you left, you spoke quieter now that you were in the hallway of your apartment complex. “do you want me to stay on the phone while i drive?”

his smile was almost palpable over the phone, “i would love for you to, but i need to be present while the doctor checks up on me.” you got into your car, the engine turned over in a low thrum. “the cast is being put on right now, though.” from the parking garage the lights of the city stood out against the inky darkness of the night.

your car exited the garage and turned onto the main road. “okay. i love you, you know that right? i’ll be there in ten.” you wouldn’t let spencer know how much you were freaking out currently. seeing as he was able to call you himself, he definitely was not in any crisis. however, you always had a habit of being neurotic over spencer’s well-being; you were even more so while he was at work in the field.

“i love you too. see you soon.” the phone beeped as you hung up. you tapped your fingers against the wheel as you drove, and tilted you head to the side to pop your neck.

when you arrived at the hospital, you were greeted with the pungent smell of alcohol as you stepped inside. there was no need to approach the front desk, as prentiss came up to you and signaled something at the receptionist. “hey emily,” you greeted. the receptionist must’ve been aware that you were coming, then. “is he alright?”

you treaded as quickly as you could whilst walking in tandem with emily. “yeah, he’s fine. he’s just been asking about you, but he’s completely lucid,” she said. she seemed casual, so your nerves settled a bit.

“well, it’s good that i’m here then,” you joked. the door to his hospital room was open, and he sat upright upon the bed, still in his work clothes. “hey, spence. you doing good?” you approached where he was sitting, and your eyes were more level than you were used to.

“i’m fine,” he swallowed, “i can’t put any weight on my ankle for a while, though.” you glanced down at his foot and noted the purple cast he had chosen. “they said i can leave in thirty minutes.” his voice was lowered, you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or from being tired. reaching forward, you grasped his hand and wove your fingers between his.

you met his eyes again. “how long do you have to keep the cast on?” you spoke softly, mostly free of worry now that he was right in front of you.

“i have a check-up in four weeks. it could be on up to two months, though.” he paused before continuing, something eager swirling in his chocolate brown eyes. “i have to stay in the office.” you knew exactly what he was getting at; not being out in the field meant more time at home. with you.

you tried to subdue the grin that was rising on your face. “well,” you smiled, “that means you get to come home to me every night.” spencer used to thrive on being out in the field, but now that you were in his life being home wasn’t so bad anymore.

his demeanor matched yours. “it does,” his lips quirked up. “dinner and an episode of our show every night.” you chuckled, stepping in between his parted legs to get closer to him. he still smelled so good, just like he always did.

sometime during your conversation, anyone that had lingered to help spencer had left the hospital room.

you leaned forward onto his chest and nuzzled slightly into his chest, and wrapped your arms around his torso. his hand rose to stroke your head and you exhaled in contentment.

“how badly does your foot hurt?” you spoke, breaking the silence. you attempted to step back to look at him again, but he stopped you, pushing you into his chest once more. his hand not on your head enveloped your upper back.

he hummed before responding. “not much anymore. not now that you’re here.” he leaned forward to kiss the crown of your head.

you furrowed your brow despite the fact that he couldn’t see it. “that’s not how that works, i think.” you rocked back and forth on your feet and swayed your bodies together.

he inhaled and exhaled deeply.

“actually, serotonin can be a painkiller. sometimes it’s even in some pain reducing drugs,” he murmured. of course it did. and of course spencer would know that. “you’re my personal pain-reducing drug,” he mumbled into your head, his thumb beginning to stroke your shoulder.

you smiled, pulling him tighter to you. “you’re mine, too.” he kissed your head another time.

after a few moments of silence, you spoke up. “spence, you’re kind of a klutz,” you teased.

he laughed lightly at your lighthearted jab. “yeah, i know.”

#lee’s writing <3 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #x reader #fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds x you #mgg #matthew gray gubler

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codmw2019-2022 · 10 months ago

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Modern Warfare Character Ages [2019 + 22]

Preface: Just wanted to add before getting into this that this is my interpretation of the character ages based on information from the games, confirmed information, research into the military/CIA and collage/university course information. This is by no means meant to be a definite statement about character ages, I'm happy to discuss or change any of the information here within reason.

I would also like to credit @sleepyconfusedpotato and @oleworldblues posts with their own opinions on the character ages. Which helped base my own thoughts and provided some good information that they had found. You can find Sleepy's post here and Blue's here they are really good posts and they both explain their own reasons for how they perceive the main cast of modern warfare's ages.

Farah & Hadir Karim : 30 & 32 [2022]

Both Farah and Hadir's ages have been confirmed by Taylor Kurosaki who is one of the writers from Modern Warfare 2019. This was confirmed when a fan ask him via twitter/X about how old Farah was during the Barkov invasion.

This means in 1999 when Barkov invaded Farah was 7 and Hadir was 9. In 2009 when they escaped they are 17 and 19 respectively and in 2019 they are 27 and 29. Hadir dies in December of 2022 as discovered in the Atomgrad raids at the age of 32.

John Price : 37 [2022]

Using the information provided from his original operator bio we find that "John Price joined the infantry at the age of sixteen and has served the British Army for 18 years." and that "he was ‘Badged’ a member of SAS in 2005, spending the next ten years in the Middle East, the horn of Africa.".

With this Price's age works out to be about 34 years old, but since it only mentions serving the British army. I added 4 years for him to be able to complete basic training which is roughly 18 weeks basic training.* Followed by Special Air Service (SAS) training with is roughly a couple months, but you must serve at least 18 months in the military to be selected**, and finally his training at the Royal Military Academy to become a Lieutenant and then Captain which is 44 weeks with 2-3 weeks of leave.***

So Price would join the British army at 16 in 2001, be badged a member of SAS at 20 in 2005, become Captain at 25 in 2010. In 2019 he would be 34 and finally 37 in 2022, which to me makes the most sense based on other character's ages.

*[army.mod.uk solider training] **[eliteukforces.info SAS] [eliteukforces.info SBS&SAS] ***[army.mod.uk officer training]

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick : 32 [2022]

We can do the same process as we did with Price for Gaz, his operator bio says "Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, enlisted in the British Army in 2008. Within four years, he passed selection for Her Majesty’s elite Special Air Service where he is currently rounding out a decade of service."

Since his bio never mentions what age he joins like with Price and Soap I'm going to assume he finished school and joined the military at 18. So Gaz is 18 in 2008, 29 in 2019 when he meets Price for the first time and 32 in 2022. I am not taking into consideration the archived Activision blog posts, which say he joined in 2014 because of them being archived. I do use it for some other characters but for Gaz it changed the date he joined not just giving extra information.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish : 26 [2022]

You can blame Activision for why Soap is so young compared to the others. So according to his updated operator bio, "Soap has spent the last seven years carrying out both covert and overt operations around the world." this with the contents of his old operator bio before MW3 "At 16, too young to sign up, but lying about his age, MacTavish enrolled in the Special Air Service…"

Means that Soap would be 23 in 2022, which doesn't make the most sense especially considering he is a Sergeant in 2019 meaning he would be 20 in the MW3 flashback. So I gave him the same treatment as Price and added 3 years, to make up for basic and SAS training. So he would be 16 in 2012 joining the British Army have to wait 18 months to apply for SAS, be roughly 18 when he starts SAS training and finish it at 19 in 2015.*

So making him now 23 in 2019, 26 in 2022 but since he lied about his age TF 141 would think he's 28 during MW2 or 25 during 2019.

*[jobs.army.mod.uk SAS reserve]

Alex Keller : 35 [2022]

Alex is one of the last characters who have dates or years of service in their information. From his Campaign Biography it says he was a part of, "CIA's Special Activities Division," and also has surrendered "his former rank and history of special ops military service with Army Delta, Alex sacrificed traditional contact and association with family to join the SAD. He has spent the last six years living a series of assumed identities to achieve “sensitive” objectives wherever he is needed."

There's also, "Through 2017, Alex’s units played a key role in ensuring definitive victories against emerging terrorist networks." So we know Alex has been working in the military before 2017, now most SAD members are former Delta operators. There's also some reports of SAD members having Master's and law degrees.* So with that we can add roughly 6 years to his age to complete a master's degree in law.**

Now Delta force has some requirements like being over 21 to join and having two and a half years of service remaining, so if Alex joined the US military at 18 after finishing High School and getting his diploma.*** In a couple years he could join Delta Force, so by 26 he would be able to be apart of CIA's SAD. (If studying part time while in Delta Force) Then adding the another six years which is when he is apart of SAD, which is mention in his biography as the last six years. The bio is published late 2019 so Alex would be 32 years old.

So Alex would join the Military at 18 in 2005, would be 32 in 2019 when he loses the lower half of one of his legs and 35 in 2022.

*[CIA SAD] **[coursera.org law school] ***[Delta Force] [US Military Requirements]

Now for the Characters with little infomation

Alejandro & Rodolfo : both 37

We find out they've known each other for 20 years and signed up together. So they are both younger than 38 but older than 30 since Alejandro is a Colonel. Looking at Wikipedia you can/have to join 18 the Mexican military for at least 3 years, this gives them about maybe two years to get to know each other before joining together.

Ghost : 35 [2022]

Honestly just pick an age between Price and Gaz, I personally like the idea of him being the same age as Alex and having them know each other previously. Maybe even before Ghost starts wearing the skull mask.

Laswell & Nikolai : 52 & 45 [2022]

No older that 52 and 45 if we go based on their actors ages, which personally makes the most sense to me. Laswell's Campaign biography mentions her supervising a SAD program in 2008, and her having studied a Master's degree in strategic intelligence analysis and having a BA in International Affairs. This doesn't help much though with figuring out her age.

AN: Hopefully this very long post is some what helpful or at least has some good resources that people can check out, especially fanfic writers or people making their own OCs.

I'm also going to repeat what I put at the top the end here. But what I've written down is not a definitive answer for their ages (minus Farah & Hadir) it's just what I personally think makes the most sense.

Don't let my own opinions/conclusions about their ages get in the way of you having fun with how you view/interpret these characters.

441 notes · View notes

arc852 · 11 days ago

Text

Not Just A Drunken Dream

Summary: Jimmy goes to class with Joel and Grian, but as the humans are running late, they are a bit less careful and Jimmy ends up on the floor of the busy hallway.

Fortunately, he is found and picked up before he can be crushed.

Unfortunately, it wasn't by Grian or Joel.

Warnings: fear, anxiety, stress, very minor injuries, and dangerous situations

Word Count: 6909

AO3 Link

If you click to read this on AO3 do not read the character tags or you will be spoiled on who the third main side character is. Just giving you guys some warning if you wanted to be surprised while reading it.

This thing was a monster to edit because I wrote it four months ago and it was really bad but it's all done and great now! I'm really proud of how this turned out and I'm excited for you all to finally know who the third main side character is! I hope you all enjoy!

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Jimmy decided he wanted to go to class with Joel and Grian again. At this point in time he had gone with them to class plenty of times before. It wasn’t all the time by any means, he didn’t want them constantly worried about him, after all. And also it could get pretty overwhelming for him too sometimes. But, he thought today would be a nice day to go out.

He had learned that, while biology was definitely not for him, some of Joel and Grian’s other classes were a lot more interesting and easier to understand. Like Joel’s history class. He loved learning about human history, it was always so interesting to learn all about what humans had done. It was a bit terrifying at times though. The things some humans did…and to each other no less…

Jimmy shook his head. Despite all that, he really did enjoy it and he was looking forward to sitting in on another class.

“Sure, let me just grab my hoodie.” Joel said after Jimmy asked if he could go with them. Joel rummaged through his dresser while Jimmy waited patiently on the nightstand and watched as Joel put on a cream-colored hoodie.

Grian was already at the door, impatient. “Come on, we’re already running a little late.” Grian said as he glanced down at his phone clock. Joel rolled his eyes but went over to Jimmy and scooped him up, gently maneuvering him into the front pocket. Jimmy slid off Joel’s hand as soon as he was fully in the pocket and watched the hand leave as he settled comfortably, leaning against the wall that was Joel’s stomach.

“All set?” Joel asked, though Jimmy could already hear, and feel, him putting on his bag.

“Yep!” Jimmy yelled and when they were given his confirmation they finally left the dorm room. Jimmy hearing the click of the door as they left.

Due to running a bit late, Grian and Joel ended up walking a bit faster than usual, which Jimmy could tell from being jostled around a bit more. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything like that, the hoodie pocket had always been pretty stable even with harsher movements, but it was noticeable enough. Jimmy didn’t mind it though and knew him being a bit jostled around was needed for them to get to class on time.

They entered the outside and quickly made their way down the path and toward a nearby building. Thankfully for both of them, Grian and Joel had their classes in the same building today, which meant if they continued at their current pace they should be able to make it on time still. That also meant they wouldn’t separate until they were already inside the building and if Jimmy remembered correctly, Joel’s classroom was first.

Jimmy knew as soon as they had entered the building because, once again, same as always, Jimmy got hit by how loud it was. Except this time it seemed a lot louder than usual. They hadn’t even entered the classroom yet and already Jimmy felt like he needed to cover his ears. Jimmy could only assume that because Grian and Joel were late that they hadn’t managed to beat the crowd of students coming and going and bustling around the halls.

This meant that the halls were quite crowded and combined with the fact that Joel was still rushing toward his classroom, it shouldn’t have been surprising that Joel would run into someone. But with Jimmy unable to see and in a pretty vulnerable spot, especially since Joel didn’t have his hands in the pocket with Jimmy at all, Jimmy was more than just surprised by the powerful weight suddenly slamming into the side of Joel’s body.

Jimmy couldn’t help himself as he let out a scream, one that was drowned out by all the other loud noises in the hall. He was moved violently towards one of the openings in the pocket. He tried gripping the fabric around him but the suddenness of the hit had given him no time to prepare and he was never able to get a good grip on the fabric. Instead, his screaming continued as Jimmy found himself rocketed out of the pocket..

“Hey! Watch it!” He thought he heard Joel shout but it was quickly drowned out by the pain of slamming into the floor.

Jimmy groaned, the pain of landing on his back was bad and part of him just wanted to lie there until the pain subsided. But then he realized where exactly he was right now, in the middle of the hallways, with what had to be hundreds of humans walking through it. He forced himself up, ignoring the pain in his back, and nearly screamed again as a shoe slammed down next to him. He quickly scooted back from it but then had to jump out of the way of yet another shoe.

Jimmy breathing picked up, the pain in his back all but forgotten due to the panic. This was bad. Where were Grian and Joel? Surely they had noticed he was no longer with them, right? They had to be looking for him right now, right? It was hard to tell from this angle though. Right now, all humans were just legs and shoes, all with the capacity to crush him without even knowing.

That thought alone nearly made Jimmy’s heart stop.

Another shoe came at him and Jimmy dove out of the way but he wasn’t quite fast enough. He made it but not without the shoe grazing him just a bit and causing him to wheeze as he harshly hit the floor again. He took in some fast breaths as he scrambled up again, knowing any amount of sitting still would kill him. He needed to get away from here. He needed to find cover.

Before he was able to do that, however, another shadow fell over him. Jimmy tried diving out of the way again, thinking it was another shoe but the shadow seemed to follow him. He looked up only to freeze as he realized the shadow belonged to a hand. Jimmy was helpless as the hand descended upon him from the crowd of shoes and legs and wrapped around him completely. Jimmy couldn’t help but feel panicked, because what if this wasn’t Grian or Joel? What if some random human had just picked him up?

But then he was quickly lifted and placed in a hoodie pocket, a red one, and Jimmy found himself relaxing. The red was familiar and the grip around him gentle. There was no doubt that it was Grian who had found him. Jimmy felt himself go completely limp and he let out a relieved sigh. The panic that had been building was finally mellowing out and Jimmy did his best to get his breathing back under control.

He brushed his hand over Grian’s thumb and there was a slight bit of hesitation before the thumb brushed along his side back. Jimmy hummed and settled against the warm hold. Though as he settled, he could still feel that Grian was moving faster than normal.

The noise of humans quickly died down but Jimmy knew it wasn’t because they had entered the classroom. They were back outside. He could only assume they were headed back to the dorm after what had happened. It made Jimmy feel a bit bad that they were missing class because of him. But the scare from it all also made him glad they were going back in order to make sure he was okay.

Jimmy could tell when they entered the dorm building, it was always a different kind of quiet than outside. Jimmy waited as he listened for the sound of keys in a lock and it didn’t take long for him to hear it. Before he knew it, a door was shutting behind them.

The hand still loosely wrapped around his body solidified into more of a stable grip and pulled him out of the pocket. The hand then opened, allowing him to sit up and on the open palm, his back only protesting a little as he did so. “Thank goodness you guys were able to find me.” Jimmy said, his words filled with relief. “I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if I--if…” Jimmy’s words trailed off as he finally looked up.

That was not Grian.

And it wasn’t Joel either.

And suddenly Jimmy couldn’t breathe.

“You’re actually real.” The human said in awe. And then he grinned. “I knew it. I knew you weren’t just a dream.”

Jimmy could barely breathe, barely think, but even he was confused by the statement. A dream? What was he-?

And then it hit him.

“Y-You’re…You’re him. The drunk guy that saw me.” Jimmy managed to stutter out, tears pricking the corner of his eyes. He wanted out of here, he wanted off this hand.

He wanted Grian and Joel.

The human winced at his words and used his free hand, the one not holding Jimmy, to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ah, right, right. That was uh…” He bit his lip. “You remember that, do ya?”

Jimmy sputtered, mouth agape. “Do I-? How do you remember?! I-I made sure you didn’t! At least, I-I thought I made sure…” Jimmy looked down at his hands, his eyes wide with panic. All this time, he thought he had been fine. He thought the drunk human that had seen him some two years ago now had been too intoxicated to even remember. But apparently, he had. And now, Jimmy was in his hands.

“I, well, it took a while to remember it if I’m being honest. And then I actually did think it was a dream for a while. But it just felt so real and…” He shrugged. “I don’t know, something in me just told me it couldn’t have just been a dream.”

Jimmy clenched his hands into fists as he grit his teeth. So the human hadn’t remembered while Jimmy had been watching but…then gained his memory back later on? Jimmy hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility.

“Uh, what did you mean by you made sure?” The human asked, breaking him from his thoughts and causing Jimmy to look up at him again. He flinched a bit as their eyes met.

“I…I stayed for a while after you saw me, watching, just to make sure you had forgotten.” He warily admitted. “I-I figured two days had been enough time, and drunk humans usually never remember anything anyway so I really thought-” His breath hitched. “Guess…Guess I didn’t watch for long enough.” He said through a choked up sob, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. This was it for him, it had to be, caught by the one human that had kept him up for countless nights in the past.

“Whoa! Hey, it’s okay.” The human said, panic making its way onto his features and through his tone. His eyebrows pinched together in concern as he saw the little guy crying. “Please don’t cry little buddy, I’m not going to hurt you or-or anything else that might be running through that little head of yours.”

The human looked around the room, head turning a bit too fast in all directions before his gaze fell on his nightstand. “Here, I’ll put you down. I’m sure being in my sweaty hands isn’t fun.” He nervously joked as he finally moved away from the door and over to his nightstand. He then placed his palm down on it, allowing Jimmy to get off on his own.

Jimmy immediately took the opportunity and hopped off, glad to be on solid ground again. The hand lifted and went back to the human’s side and Jimmy was both relieved…and confused. He wiped at the tears still on his face, trying to stop himself from crying anymore as he warily looked up at the human as he backed up a few steps.

“There we go. Is that better?” The human asked and when Jimmy didn’t say anything, the human looked panicked again. “Ah, oh, um…Oh! Maybe some introductions are in order? Yeah, yeah, um, I’m Tango! It’s nice to finally meet you.” Tango gave him a smile, though it was one full of nerves. “What’s your name?”

“...Jimmy.” He said hesitantly, still worried about what was going to happen but slowly calming down a bit.

“Well, like I said, it’s nice to meet you Jimmy.” Tango said, his smile gentler now. “I promise I don’t have any, uh, evil plans or anything like that.” Tango said with a little wave of his fingers at the word evil. “I just, I saw you and I didn’t want to see you hurt or-or worse.”

Jimmy bit his lip. That’s right, he had been so caught up in everything that he had almost forgotten but Tango really had saved him. If not for him, he might have actually been crushed before anyone else even had a chance to pick him up.

And, well…this was going a lot better than Jimmy would have ever expected. Tango had even put him down when he saw how distressed Jimmy was. He asked for his name, he promised no ill intent…

Tango was really reminding him a lot of Grian and Joel.

There was just one thing he had to be sure of.

“So…you’re not planning on, uh, keeping me? Right?” Jimmy asked, eyes pleading that the answer was no.

Tango’s eyes went wide. “Of course not! That’s included in the whole ‘no evil plans’ thing!” Tango answered. So not only was it a no, but a resounding no. Good to know. Jimmy then watched as Tango knelt down, so the human was more eye level with Jimmy now. “You’re a person, Jimmy. And I make it a habit to not kidnap, trap, and hurt my fellow persons.” Tango sent him another kind smile and this time, Jimmy returned it, even if his was a bit shakier than Tango’s.

“Thank you, Tango. That actually really means a lot.” Jimmy said. He supposed there really were more good humans out there. Still, a borrower could never be too careful, but it’s nice to see that Tango was one of them.

“Hey, no need to thank me for doing the basic human thing.” Tango said with a shrug.

Jimmy shook his head. “No, really. Because not a lot of humans would…would be as nice as you.” The ‘basic human thing’ in regards to borrowers was not kindness. At least, if all the stories Jimmy had ever heard was anything to go by. And even if Jimmy currently had a 3 out of 3 track record for finding the good ones.

“Oh.” Tango said. “Oh.” He said again as realization hit him. Right, he supposed Jimmy had a point. A three-inch tall person falling into the wrong hands…the things his mind came up with made him shudder. “Right, yeah, um…sorry you gotta, uh, sorry you gotta watch out for stuff like that.” Tango said, not really knowing what else to say. “I wish humans could be kinder.”

Jimmy smiled softly and it was then that he knew, fully, that Tango was good.

“You’re kind though. And that’s really all that matters right now.” Jimmy said, his small smile turning into a small grin.

Tango’s cheeks flushed and he rubbed the back of his head, laughing nervously. “Just, uh, just doing what I know is right.”

Jimmy giggled at the human’s flustered expression. Jimmy found himself feeling a lot more comfortable around Tango. The fact that Tango had proven to be kind mixed with the way Jimmy was somewhat used to humans now, it was surprisingly easy for Jimmy to relax. “Mind if I ask you a question.” Jimmy asked.

Tango let his nervous laughter die off and as he met Jimmy’s eyes again. “Yeah, of course. Ask away.”

“How did you…how did you see me in that crowd of people anyway?” Now that Jimmy’s mind was free of panic, it was actually something that baffled him. He could understand if it was someone who was actively looking for him, like Grian or Joel, but the fact Tango managed to see him in that mess had to have been a miracle.

Tango’s nervous laughter returned. “Heh, um, well. Funny story that, I uh, I’ve…kind of made it a habit to look down a lot. You know, just in case…I saw you again. Or another little person. I didn’t want to accidentally hurt you or anything.” Tango released a breath. “I’m actually really glad I did that now, or else you might’ve…ya know…” Tango didn’t elaborate, but they both knew what he meant.

“Huh, yeah, that’s…yeah. I’m really glad you made that a habit too, actually.” Jimmy agreed, pushing any thoughts of what could have happened far from his mind.

“Can I ask you a question too?” Tango asked and Jimmy, though not expecting Tango to want to ask his own question, nodded. Tango’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought about his question and how to ask it. “Why were you on the ground, in the middle of the hallway, in the first place?”

Jimmy blinked, realizing that was a fair question to have, actually. “Oh, I fell out of my friend’s…pocket…” Jimmy slowly trailed off, realization hitting him. His eyes widened, his body tensing up again. “Oh my word! They’re probably still out there looking for me! I gotta-I have to-!”

Tango’s own eyes widened at Jimmy’s sudden panic. “Whoa! Whoa! Slow down, what’s going on?”

“I was on the ground because I was with my friends and some guy knocked into one of them and it knocked me onto the floor! They’re probably worried sick!” Jimmy tried his best to explain. He had to assume his friends had noticed he was missing by now and were probably scrambling around trying to find him.

Tango blinked. “You’re…friends?” He thought for a moment. “Wait, do you mean…your friends are human?”

Jimmy nodded, his body still tense and raring to get back to them. “Yeah, Grian and Joel. They found me a few months ago and ever since then we’ve been best friends. But they still think I’m missing or…or worse.” Jimmy ran his hands down his face. He was probably causing them so much worry. The thought was stressing Jimmy out.

“Wait, did you say Grian and Joel? As in the Grian who constantly wears red sweaters and causes mischief, the Joel who has a green streak in his hair and also plays along with said mischief? That Grian and Joel?" Tango asked and Jimmy looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Uh, yeah? W-Why?” Jimmy asked, wondering how the heck Tango seemed to know so much about Grian and Joel.

“Because Grian and Joel are good buddies of mine.” Tango revealed and Jimmy’s brain short-circuited for a moment.

“...Wait, they have friends?” It was not meant to be a dig at them but Tango laughed and Jimmy realized how bad that had sounded. He tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way! I just, genuinely thought they were each other’s only friends.” Jimmy shrugged helplessly. “They’ve never mentioned other friends before, anyway.”

Tango nodded along, his laughter dying down as he placed a hand on his chin in thought. “Yeah, that makes sense actually. Grian and Joel have sort of stopped hanging out with me and the guys outside of class.” He looked down at Jimmy. “Though I can see why now.”

Jimmy frowned. He didn’t want to be the reason Grian and Joel had stopped hanging out with their other friends. He was perfectly fine being left alone for a few hours if they wanted to hang out somewhere else. He didn’t have to always be around them.

He would need to talk to them about that later.

“I need to get back to them.” Jimmy said, getting them back on track. “I can’t begin to imagine how worried they are.” Well, that was a lie. He definitely could imagine it and he hated it. He really needed to let them know that he was okay.

Tango nodded. “Yeah, of course. Uh, where do you think they would be, if they realized you were missing?” The question gave Jimmy pause and he had to think about it.

“Well…” He started, thinking out loud. “They probably would have retraced their steps when Joel realized I wasn’t in his pocket. Meaning…if they didn’t find me in the hallways or outside…they’re probably back in their dorm room.” Jimmy worked out.

“That’s as good as any place to start.” Tango said with a nod. “If they aren’t there, we’ll just head back to the building. We’re sure to run into them at some point at least.” Tango said and Jimmy nodded in agreement with him. Whether Jimmy was right or not, they would get him back to them.

Tango looked down at Jimmy and paused, realizing he would have to pick up Jimmy again for this. “Uh, how do you, ya know, want to do…this.” Tango stuttered out, waving at the both of them.

Jimmy looked at him confused. “What do you mean? You’ve already picked me up before, you can just do it again.”

“I know I have! But that was, you know there was a lot of panicy panic and not a lot of thinkificating involved.” When he saw Jimmy in danger, it was more of an act now and ask questions later sort of thing. “Besides, I feel weird just grabbing you.”

Jimmy tilted his head, puzzled. A human feeling weird about grabbing him? That was certainly a new one to Jimmy. Grian and Joel never seemed to have any conflicted feelings about grabbing him or picking him up. “Joel and Grian do it all the time, so I’m pretty used to it.”

Tango hummed at that, not knowing what to think. “Well…I would prefer you had some say in being picked up. So…” Tango placed a hand down next to Jimmy, palm up and flat. “...Hop on?”

Jimmy looked down at the hand, hesitant. It’s not like he had never been offered a hand before, he remembers vividly when that was all Grian and Joel did for a while after they first met, but it was such a rare thing nowadays that Jimmy wasn’t used to it. The difference between just being grabbed and being offered a hand was that, when it was offered, Jimmy was the one putting himself in that position. He was really and purposefully giving his entire self and safety to the human offering him the hand.

He supposed, when he was just being grabbed, it was easier to just let it happen.

And not only that, but this wasn’t Grian or Joel offering him a hand. It was Tango. Someone who he had just met and despite proving himself to be like Grian and Joel, it was still nerve-wracking to put himself in his hands. Especially when Tango was making him make that choice himself.

But he needed to get back to Grian and Joel, and Tango was the quickest way there, so he took a deep breath and stepped onto the hand. He moved toward the center and, feeling weird standing, he quickly took a seat. Jimmy then looked up at Tango and gave him a hesitant thumbs up.

“There we go, okay.” Tango said and Jimmy could just feel how nervous he was. It was kind of sweet, in all honesty. Even Grian and Joel had never been this nervous to handle him. “I’m going to put you in my pocket now, okay?” Tango said and when Jimmy nodded Tango lowered him to his hoodie pocket and let Jimmy inside. Jimmy slid off the hand and watched as Tango pulled his hand away but kept it at the very edge of the pocket, just in case.

“Ready?” Tango asked, still nervous.

“Ready!” Jimmy yelled back and then settled in as he heard the door open and Tango start to walk the dorm halls.

It wasn’t very long at all before Tango had stopped, making Jimmy wonder just how close Tango really was to Grian and Joel’s dorm. A sharp knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts though and he tuned back in, hoping Grian and Joel were there.

Tango heard a series of harsh whispers coming from inside the room but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. At least he knew they were in there. It took a long moment, long enough where Tango thought about knocking again, but the door opened before he could, revealing Joel.

He looked awful, honestly. Tango couldn’t help but wince at just how distressed he looked. And when Grian came from behind to see who was at the door, Tango noticed he didn’t look much better. He knew they would be worried about Jimmy but actually seeing them like this almost broke Tango’s heart. At least he knew Jimmy was in good hands, if their amount of worry was anything to go by. “Um, hey guys.” Tango said with a little wave.

Joel blinked. “Tango?” He had not been expecting him, though really he hadn’t been expecting anyone. “What are you-? Ah, nevermind, we don't really have time to chat or hang out right now, so maybe another-” As he spoke, he was already in the process of closing the door but Tango cut him off.

“I found Jimmy.” Tango said, not beating around the bush.

Both friends froze and slowly, Joel opened back up the door and both him and Grian looked at Tango with wide, incredulous eyes. “I…I’m sorry, what?” Joel asked, not sure if he had heard that right.

Tango gently patted his hoodie pocket with the hand not still in there. “I found Jimmy.” He repeated and then pointed to the inside of the room. “I think it might be best if I come in?”

They stared at him for a moment longer before nodding slowly and moving out of the way for Tango to come inside. Tango did and the door was shut behind him.

“Alright Tango, you better explain yourself.” Joel said, his arms crossed as he tried to appear threatening. However, his disheveled appearance and his worry were still showing through too much for it to actually work.

Grian, on the other hand, did a very good job at burying his emotions in order to stare daggers at him.

“Right, right, hold your horses.” Tango said, and then reached into his pocket since he figured showing them Jimmy was the best explanation he could give at the moment. He felt Jimmy crawl into his palm and he made sure to get a solid grip on him before pulling his hand back out, being very slow and careful just in case. He then lifted his hand to chest level and held it out towards Grian and Joel, revealing Jimmy sitting in the center.

“Jimmy!” They both shouted almost at the same time, voices overlapping each other. Before Tango could even react, Joel took a step forward and snatched Jimmy off his hand, moving to cradle him between two cupped hands. “Are you alright? What on earth happened? Where did you go?” Joel asked question after question in worried relief.

“And how did you end up with Tango?” Grian chimed in, close to Joel in order to look over Jimmy as well and make sure he was okay. But his gaze was locked onto Tango as he asked the question, Tango backing up a bit with his hands up at the intensity in Grian’s gaze. He had never seen Grian act like this before and, well, Tango could admit that Grian was scary when he wanted to be.

Jimmy, despite the too many questions, was just happy to be back with Grian and Joel. “I’m okay.” He decided to start with, since that seemed to be the most important thing to clarify. “I’m not hurt or anything.” He explained, even as Joel was using a gentle thumb to feel around his body for any injuries.

“That’s good.” Joel said with a sigh of relief, though he didn’t take his thumb back. Instead, using it to rub Jimmy’s back comfortingly. “But what happened? I got to class and put my hand in my pocket and you were just…you were just gone.” Joel’s voice cracked at the last word and Jimmy winced. He really had worried them.

“When you ran into that person in the hallway, I…I fell out and onto the floor.” Jimmy revealed, knowing the reactions weren’t going to be good.

He was right.

“On…on the floor. Of the hallway.” Grian said through gritted teeth and with wide eyes. “In the middle of that crowd! Jimmy, how…” how are you not dead, went unsaid but Jimmy still picked up on it. He was good at that since Grian and Joel never really liked bringing up what could have happened to Jimmy in certain situations. At least, not in any detail.

“It was…terrifying. But I was picked up only a minute or so later.” Jimmy looked over at Tango. “I thought it was you at first, Grian, since I was put in the pocket of a red hoodie but it turned out to be Tango.”

Both Grian and Joel looked over at Tango. Joel seemed to only just remember that he was there while Grian continued to look at him with barely hidden wariness.

“So you…saved him.” Grian said. Tango just shrugged and Jimmy frowned at that, answering before Tango could.

“He did! He saw me down there and grabbed me to save me!” Jimmy exclaimed.

Grian’s eyes finally softened, his wariness still there but much less prominent and he could already feel himself relaxing. “If that’s the case then thank you, Tango.”

“Of course.” Tango said, feeling better with Grian not looking at him all scary like anymore.

Joel though, still holding Jimmy close to his chest, still looked confused. “Okay, that is great and all and we do really appreciate it.” Joel started, but his tone became more wary as he continued. “But how are you not freaking out at Jimmy existing? You’re being pretty calm about all this.”

And Joel’s words, Grian’s wariness came back tenfold and he looked at Tango with much the same gaze as before.

Tango gulped at that but held out his hands. “Well, you see, I-” He cut himself off when he saw Jimmy run a hand along his neck, telling him to stop and not say anything. Tango really didn’t know why, but he followed along anyway. “I…uh, got all of my freak out when I talked with Jimmy at my dorm?”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Why was that said as a question, Tango? What are you hiding?” Joel still seemed a bit untrusting toward Tango, despite Tango bringing Jimmy back to them.

“I’m not hiding anything! I, well…” Tango glanced down at Jimmy for help. Grian and Joel noticed and followed his gaze and now all three were looking down at Jimmy.

“Jimmy? Do you have something you want to tell us?” Grian asked, his brow slightly raised.

Jimmy looked at the three of them before he couldn’t help but duck his head a little. He was used to being around Grian and Joel, of course. But Tango being added to the mix…that was three humans surrounding him from all sides, staring down at him with their full attention, and it was just a little intimidating if he was being honest.

Jimmy bit his lip, knowing that if he told them the truth of how Tango knew about him, they would freak out. Probably on both him and Tango. But he also knew that at this point, Grian and Joel weren’t going to let it go. He either told them now with little fuss or spend an hour arguing about it and then end up telling them anyway.

He really didn’t feel like getting into a big thing right now. He was starting to feel exhausted from this whole day. So, he sighed and decided to reveal it. “Tango isn’t really freaking out because…he already kind of knew about me.”

Grian and Joel’s eyes widened and Tango bit his lip as he watched closely at their reaction.

“...Okay, but how?” Joel asked and Jimmy knew he wasn’t just going to let him leave it at that.

“Um…remember when I told you about that time, when you two were celebrating the end of your first semester with some beer? About, how uh, I almost got caught by that drunk guy?” Jimmy asked with a nervous smile.

It clicked right away for the two of them.

“Tango was the drunk guy that saw you?!” Grian shouted as Joel’s jaw went slack. Jimmy winced a little at Grian’s volume and their reaction. Tango also found himself wincing, his body tense as he prepared to run if he had to.

“I thought you said he didn’t remember seeing you?” Joel asked, getting over his shock enough to speak. Jimmy huffed a little and looked down.

“I thought he didn't, but according to Tango…” He trailed off and looked at Tango, who took the hint to finish for him.

“I started remembering a few days later. At first I thought it had been a dream but I just…I had this feeling it couldn’t have been.” Tango repeated what he had told Jimmy earlier.

“Well that’s…hmm.” Grian started, only to stop talking and hum to himself, unsure.

“I guess I am glad it was you and not some total stranger.” Joel admitted. “That could have been really bad.”

“Yeah, imagine my surprise when Tango told me he knew the two of you. Why have you never mentioned him or any of your other friends before?” Jimmy asked, looking between Grian and Joel.

Joel blinked and then shrugged. “It just…never got brought up? And besides, we never thought you were ever going to meet any of them.” He looked at Tango. “Turns out you two met long before us.”

Jimmy supposed that was actually kind of true. It had been at least a couple of years before he met Grian and Joel that he had had that close encounter with Tango. That was honestly weird to think about.

“Oh shoot, is that the time?” Tango suddenly said, catching a glance at Grian’s alarm clock. How words pulled Jimmy out of his thoughts “I gotta catch a class in about 10 minutes, so I should probably head out.”

Grian nodded but as Tango made to leave, Grian stepped forward. “Wait.” Tango froze at the seriousness in Grian's voice and looked at him nervously. “You’re not going to tell anyone else about Jimmy, right?”

Tango’s eyes widened. “No! Of course not! I would never ever.” He said and then paused, thinking something over. “But, I mean…you know, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for you guys to tell the others.”

Grian’s eyes narrowed. “Tango…”

Tango put his hands up. “I’m not going to say anything! You don’t have to worry about that. But…you know the guys. You know Impulse and Etho and the others. Do you really think they can’t be trusted to know about Jimmy?”

Joel rolled his eyes. “It’s not about trust! It’s about not having so many people knowing about Jimmy. The more who know, the more likely it could spread.”

“But only if someone spills the secret.” Tango said with a raised eyebrow. “And I really don’t think anyone would. But, anyway, it’s not really up to the two of you, is it?”

Grian and Joel blinked. “What do you mean?” Joel asked with a huff.

“It’s up to Jimmy.” Tango said. Grian and Joel paused and looked down at the borrower and Tango couldn’t help but hum. “It’s his decision whether he wants more people to know about him or not.” It was important he reminded his fellow humans that Jimmy should be making the ultimate decision on anything that involved the borrower himself. And something like this definitely fell into that category.

Tango then crouched down so he was eye level with Jimmy and smiled at him. “They can tell you more about our other friends later, but I wouldn’t be suggesting this if I didn’t think everything would be okay.” He explained a bit more. “Besides, I think you would get along great with the rest of our group.”

Jimmy blinked wide-eyed at Tango, taken aback by that last statement. “You really think so?”

Tango nodded. “I do. Think about it?” Tango asked with a slight head tilt.

Jimmy hesitated for a moment before he nodded. “I will. Think about it, that is.”

“Great.” Tango said and then slapped his knees as he straightened up before heading toward the door. He looked back behind him. “Hopefully we can see each other again soon! Bye Jimmy!” He waved and Jimmy waved back with a smile. “And bye to you guys too, I guess.” He joked as he also waved to Grian and Joel.

And with that, Tango was gone.

And since he was gone, that meant all attention was now back on Jimmy. He was finally brought away from Joel’s chest and held between the two humans. “You are okay, right?” Grian asked softly, wanting to make sure.

Jimmy took in a shakier breath than he had intended but nodded. Despite everything, he really was okay. Tango seemed like a really nice guy and even promised to keep his existence a secret. His mind, however, couldn’t help but replay the terrifying parts of the day. Jimmy did his best to not think about it though and shove it into the back of his head. “I’m okay. Just a bit shaken up, I guess.” Jimmy said, allowing himself to be a bit more vulnerable with Tango no longer around.

“I bet.” Joel said and Jimmy realized his tone was no longer bordering on defensive. “You fell out of my pocket, onto the floor, and ended up meeting another human today. I’d be exhausted too.” He said and then sighed and looked away. “Stupid of me to not have my hand in there with you.” He mumbled to himself, so quiet Jimmy only caught a few words. But before he could ask about it, the conversation moved on.

“You’re back with us now though.” Grian said, not only to them but to himself as well. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, and maybe no more trips to classes for a little bit.” Joel recommended and Jimmy nodded. He had no desire to leave the dorm room for a long time after what happened today.

“I second that.” Grian said and then walked over to his bed to collapse in it. Joel, who Jimmy expected was going to be holding him for at least the rest of the night, sat down on his own bed and seemed to finally relax.

“By the way.” Jimmy said after a few moments of silence. Joel looked down at him and Grian sat up a little to do the same. “What, uh…what are your other friends like?”

He looked to Joel first, who was frowning. “You can’t seriously be thinking about meeting them, right? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Grian sat all the way up and rubbed the back of his head, sighing. “Joel, I hate to admit it, but Tango is right. That’s not our decision to make for Jimmy.”

Joel sputtered. “It’s-I mean-Jimmy, you were the one who didn’t want more humans knowing about you in the first place!”

“I know, I know.” Jimmy looked down. Meeting Tango had been nerve-wracking for sure but maybe it was only because of the way he had met him? Sure, he would probably still be nervous meeting the others despite knowing what he was getting into with them. But…maybe Jimmy wanted to try. Maybe he wanted more friends. Not that Grian and Joel weren’t good enough but more friends, more people to talk to, seemed…nice.

Besides, if the others knew about him, he would no longer be stopping Grian and Joel from hanging out with them. They could all hang out together!

Still…Jimmy couldn’t take making this decision lightly. He needed to think about it and calculate if the risks were worth it. But, honestly, if the others were anything like Grian and Joel, or even Tango, he figured he would be just fine.

“I’m not sure about it yet. But…I am thinking about it.” Jimmy admitted and looked between the two to gauge their reactions. They both looked worried, which Jimmy thought was fair. “I would like to know more about the others though, in order to…reach that decision.” Jimmy continued.

Grian and Joel were silent for a moment before Joel sighed. “Well…I guess we can start with Impulse. He’s Tango’s roommate.” Joel started and Jimmy was a bit surprised they were willing to do this right now but thankful all the same.

The rest of that night he spent in Joel’s hands, listening to Grian and Joel talking about their friends.

And once they had all laid down to finally go to sleep, after learning so much about these people, these friends of his friends, Jimmy couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted to meet them.

#g/t #giant/tiny #au #borrowers #hermitcraft g/t #hermitcraft #hermitfic #bbbcau #bad boys borrower college au #borrower jimmy #tiny jimmy

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astheworldgoesonitswickedway · 1 month ago

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As the ASoUE fandom, we need to acknowledge the drastic differences between the books and show more often. I love them both though I do prefer book canon on this particular subject. The schism. The timeline can be confusing. And it's so important to recognize that while in the show, Beatrice accidentally killing Olaf's father incited the schism and Olaf's villainy, in the book, Kit tells us the schism happened when she was four. If we are assuming all our main generation of V.F.D. members are probably within a few years of each other in age, this happened when they were all young children. This changes a lot, but most importantly it means that the death of Olaf's parents and the great schism, were two different events. And also, this means they all grew up in schism V.F.D. essentially this environment of warring factions. They didn't get to experience a maybe healthier version of V.F.D. They grew up in an atmosphere where their lives would much more often have been at stake. Well I've been thinking about that night at the opera, since the schism had already happened, it could have played a part in the events. The show says it was an accident, but the books never clarify. To be honest, the books make things sound much more like an assassination...not saying it was but I won't say it wasn't. We see the Baudelaires themselves come to the conclusion their parents weren't who they thought they were. Why would they have poison darts if they didn't intend to use them? Kit says she snuck them past Esme to the Baudelaires. (Which is another thing. Seriously, if this was an assassination, Kit participated in the murder of her fiancée's parents...Olaf didn't seem to blame her like he did the others, did he not know, or did she not know what they would be used for so he didn't consider her complicit?) And for the record, the death of one person with a dart like in the show, could be an accident. Both of Olaf's parents died in the book and that's a lot harder to answer for. So why would the Baudelaire parents assassinate Olaf's parents? Would "noble" V.F.D. really condone something like that? I mean, I guess they were messing around with the medusoid mycellium...planning to use it against their enemies. Could the Baudelaires actions that night relate to their reluctance to tell the kids about their organization? As for why they would do that, is it possible Olaf's parents might have been villains on the other side of the schism? Were they planning something horrible? We are basically told that night is why Olaf switched sides, could he really have been on the noble side at a time when his parents weren't? What did Olaf see that night, how did he know who to blame? Did he watch his parents die? Could his parents have been planning to strike first? Could they have meant to kill his friends, an event which would also drive Olaf insane, just in the other direction, against his parents? Is there any way his parents could have been innocent? I have a really hard time believing that if the Baudelaires did what they did, though it was still not okay. This is all wild speculation I know, but the book canon just opens up worlds of theories, unlike the show which seems to sacrifice the plot a bit, in order to keep our important characters hands clean. But if Daniel Handler taught us anything, its that no one really keeps their hands clean, everyone participates in treachery at some point, and you never know how horrible someone's treachery was, you can't necessarily trust someone just because you care about them. Can I just say how absolutely gutsy it was for Daniel Handler to deliver a thirteen book series, the plot of which is driven by the great split of this secret organization, only for him to never tell us what happened? He never explains the schism? I know he loves to leave unanswered questions but. But this. Then again, it's written from the Baudleaires perspective and for many reasons, they don't get to know. It is fitting that neither do we.

#a series of unfortunate events #lemony snicket #count olaf #v.f.d.#asoue #kit snicket #beatrice baudelaire

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burnednotburied · 7 months ago

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Chapter 5: The Aquarium

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; sorry (but not that sorry) to any Owen fans, but he’s kinda a huge asshole in this

Note: I added chapter titles and finally figured out exactly where I’m going with this story lol. Hooray for having a plan!!

(Sorry it took more than two weeks to get this chapter out! End-of-semester craziness, ya know? I hope this chapter being like twice as long as usual makes up for it!)

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Abby realized too late that she probably should’ve warned you about the life-sized whales on the ceiling.

By the look on your face, she could tell you’ve never seen anything like it.

Which made sense. She hadn’t either before she and Owen found this place three years ago.

She paused to watch you for just a second, taking in your amazed expression as you marveled at the enormous hanging sea creatures above you.

Abby could easily remember what her first time here was like. How incredible and other-worldly this place felt. She imagined it must be even more overwhelming for you, this fractured piece of a world you were not a part of and knew little about. A world where humans built a place where they could go to look at fish for no reason other than that it was entertaining. A world where people did things just for fun.

Of course, Abby had also never been a part of that world, but at least she knew about it. She’d caught glimpses of it, carefully and intentionally gathering bits and pieces. She watched films and documentaries. She read novels and history books, newspapers and magazines if she could find them.

Knowledge was power. And, to Abby, having power was important. Having power meant being able to keep the people she cared about safe.

And if you had enough power, no one could ever take it away from you.

So she dedicated herself to becoming powerful, both of mind and of body. It’s all she had known and cared about since she lost her dad.

It’s why she lost Owen.

She still wasn’t sure if that had been a good thing or a bad thing, but she knew she felt guilty about it.

Three years ago, Owen had quickly claimed the aquarium as his own. He cleaned it up, made it feel as homey as possible, and spent as much time here as he could get away with. Abby didn’t tell anyone, not even the rest of the Salt Lake crew. It was right around the time they were breaking up. She felt like she owed him her discretion at the very least. Not that it really made up for anything.

Yesterday morning, when Nora told Abby that Owen was missing, she assumed he’d come here.

God, she hoped she was right.

Abby shifted the injured Yara in her arms, her muscles burning from carrying the girl for so long.

It was early in the morning now. The sun had just begun to rise as the four of you had been making your way into the aquarium.

“Owen!” she shouted, leading the way down one of the hallways off the main entrance. Abby thought he would most likely be out on the boat, either sleeping or continuing in his never-ending attempts to get the thing in working order.

“Owen!” she called out again. “Owen! Are you here?”

She paused for a moment, listening. Nothing.

“Owen—”

“I’m here.” She heard his voice just before he rounded the corner, stopping short when he saw the whole group of you. “Are those Scars?” he asked, genuinely surprised and definitely confused as hell.

Abby ignored the question. “I need whatever medical supplies you have.”

Before Owen could respond, Alice came barreling around the corner, barking aggressively at the perceived enemies.

The next few seconds were chaotic to say the least.

You screamed and jumped back. Lev reacted quickly, his bow drawn and an arrow notched.

“Alice, no!” Abby yelled out.

Owen grabbed for the German Shepherd, holding her back as she continued to lunge forward, trying to attack.

“Put the bow down! It’s okay!” Abby shouted.

Owen gripped the dog’s harness tightly. “Put that down!”

“Alice, shut up! Lev, put the bow down!”

“Alice, stop—Abby, what the fuck?!”

“Lev, listen to them! Put it down!” you insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder as you tried to push him behind you.

All of this happened simultaneously, muffled by the sound of deafening, echoing barking.

“Alice!” a new voice, one that Abby knew belonged to Mel, shouted. To her, the dog listened, sitting down obediently with one final bark.

Mel stood next to Owen and Alice, staring.

There was a moment of silence.

Abby turned to the young boy. “Lev, lower the bow. It’s okay.”

Reluctantly, he listened.

“Abby, who are these people?” Mel asked.

“They saved my life,” she said, hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. “Can you take a look at her?” Abby looked down at Yara, who seemed to be barely conscious in her arms.

Mel dropped a hand on Alice’s head, instructing her to stay, as she slowly stepped closer, eyeing you and Lev cautiously.

“This is Yara,” Abby said before nodding over to the kid at her right, “That’s Lev. And that’s—” She stopped short. She wasn’t about to introduce you to them as Prophet.

Behind her, you spoke, offering up your name. Abby and Lev’s eyes both swung to you, widening for two entirely different reasons.

Abby’s because she was hearing your name for the first time. It was your name. It was like she discovered a brand new piece to this puzzle she had been frantically trying to assemble since the moment she saw you.

She wasn’t sure why Lev looked shocked, but it seemed like a big deal, for you to use your name in place of the title that had been forced upon you by the other Scars.

Abby quietly repeated the name, committing it to memory.

Mel gave a small nod, unaware of the mini revelation that was happening right in front of her, instead focusing on Yara with a concerned look on her face.

“What did this?” she asked, looking down at the girl’s mangled arm.

“A hammer,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right next to Abby.

“It wasn’t me,” Abby quickly added. Guilty, despite her innocence. She was ashamed that she needed to make that clarification. Worried about what you would think about it.

Mel hesitated, regarding each of the Scars one by one again before sighing. “Alright. Let’s lay her down.”

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The pregnant woman—clearly someone Abby knew but wasn’t exactly friendly with—decided that Yara had compartment syndrome, which apparently meant they would have to cut her arm off.

While everyone else argued about the best way to accomplish that task, you stood off to the side, feeling sick. If you had been able to stop Emily’s men last night, this wouldn’t be happening.

It shouldn’t be happening.

Yara was going to lose her arm or die because you failed her.

You were trying not to spiral. Trying to be helpful now. (Too little, too late.) Trying to pay attention to the Wolves’ conversation.

They didn’t have the supplies they needed to perform the amputation safely. Yara didn’t have time to wait the couple days it would take Abby to travel all the way to the hospital and back.

“What if we could get you there in two hours?” Lev asked, hands grasping the metal table where Yara laid in the center of the room. “The Wolf hospital, right? On the west side?”

The man—Owen—stood, interested. “How?”

“The bridges,” you said, realizing what Lev was getting at. All eyes turned to you. “Our people built them. High up.”

Lev nodded. “It’s how we get around the flooding. And… you people.”

After a quiet moment, Abby stepped forward. “Can she handle two hours?”

The woman considered this, her hand comfortingly placed on Yara’s shoulder. “Probably, yeah.”

Abby nodded. “Then make a list of what you need.”

Owen stepped closer, joining the circle the rest of you had formed around Yara. “Wait. Are you serious? Abby, these bridges are used by Scars.”

The fact that he was arguing against the plan frustrated you. Yara didn’t have time for this.

“They only send in small groups at a time,” Lev said.

“You heard that? Small groups.” Abby said, watching as the other woman jotted down the supplies on a loose piece of paper and handed it over.

“This isn’t a joke.” Owen looked only at Abby, trying to catch her eyes. She seemed to be actively avoiding making contact.

Instead, she turned to you and said your name, followed by, “Let’s go.”

You looked up at her, at a loss for words. It was sad that something as simple as hearing your name could have this effect on you, but it had been eight years since you’d heard it… And this was already the second time Abby had said it.

You wanted to turn and walk right out the door with her, happy to follow her anywhere, but reality set it.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t know where the hospital is. And I don’t know our bridges well enough to guide you. It will have to be Lev.” It looked like Abby might argue with you, or at least tell you to come with them.

You wanted to. The idea of letting Lev go back out into danger without you made you sick with worry. But, foolish as it may seem, you trusted Abby to look out for him. And you didn’t understand these other Wolves and the strange dynamic at play here. You certainly didn’t trust them to be alone with Yara.

“Someone needs to stay with her,” you said, holding Abby’s gaze.

She nodded, grabbing her backpack off the floor. “Alright. Lev.”

He looked to you, taking your hand in his. The group splitting up must’ve felt wrong to him, too.

Almost on instinct, you did what you had been trained to do. You offered a bit of comfort.

“May She guide you,” you said quietly, giving him a small, encouraging smile as you squeezed his one hand between both of yours.

The words were familiar to you both, a common Seraphite mantra. He reciprocated your tight grasp and finished the line, “May She protect you.”

When you released his hand, he placed it on Yara’s shoulder, as if to tell her goodbye as well. She was unresponsive.

You felt a hand fall on your own shoulder and looked up to find that it was Abby. She nodded her head to the opposite end of the room, impatiently taking your wrist in her hand and leading you over there when you didn’t immediately catch her meaning.

She didn’t let go.

Abby stood close, speaking quietly so that no one else could hear. “We’ll be back as soon as possible. Yara’s going to be fine, okay. And I’ll keep Lev safe.”

You couldn’t help the slight upward curve of your lips. “I know,” you said. “I trust you.”

She blinked, caught off guard, but continued. “I wouldn’t mention the whole you-being-the-Prophet thing to Owen and Mel if I were you.”

“I’m not a prophet,” you deadpanned.

She let out an exasperated breath. “Okay, sure. Well I wouldn’t tell them that the Scars think—”

“Seraphites,” you interjected.

“—Seraphites—Just… you get the point. Don’t mention it, okay?”

“What if they ask questions?”

“Dodge them. Be vague.”

“You don’t trust your friends?” you asked, more serious now.

“No,” Abby said. “Not with you.”

You couldn’t begin to guess what she meant by that.

“I trust them… for the most part.” She glanced at them over your shoulder before meeting your eyes again. “I just don’t know how they would react to that information. It’s not exactly a small thing. I don’t know what they would do with it.”

You looked at her for while longer, then nodded your head. “Okay. I won’t say anything.”

“Abby?” the man’s voice came from behind you.

She let go of your wrist immediately, as if she had been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

You turned around to find the woman—Mel—and Owen both looking at you like they were witnessing something truly insane, instead of just two people having a conversation.

Lev stood on his own by the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving.

From behind you, you felt Abby’s hand wrap around your wrist again, squeezing lightly and then letting go.

“We’ll be back,” she said, this time at a normal volume. She joined Lev by the door, opening it and leading the way out.

“Abby!” Owen said again, moving to follow them out.

Mel groaned, frustrated. “God! Owen, just let them go.” When he ignored her, she went after him, the door slamming loudly behind her.

You stayed behind with Yara.

She was blinking slowly, barely awake, her shallow breaths too few and far between for your liking. You felt helpless, knowing there wasn’t much you could do other than sit and wait.

You pulled up a chair.

Just outside the door, the two Wolves were arguing. Although, you only caught bits and pieces of it.

Something about Abby and Scars and a cloak… Something about someone who looked like she just stepped out of The Lord of the Rings. You didn’t know what that meant, but it was clear they were talking about you.

Again, you unfastened the cloak and freed yourself of your top layer. Whether that was due to embarrassment or a sudden recognition of the uncomfortable warmth of the room, you couldn’t tell.

“Did you see how she was looking at her?” “Owen, why do you care? Why does it matter to you?” you heard through the door.

The dynamic here was becoming more and more confusing.

You’d assumed that Owen was the father of Mel’s child, just because they seemed to live here together. But that didn’t explain Mel’s rather apparent unfavorable opinion of Abby. And it definitely didn’t explain Owen’s preoccupation with Abby.

Their conversation continued for several minutes, volume rising and falling periodically. There wasn’t much you understood and even less of it seemed important or interesting to you.

Eventually, the door swung open again, making you jump in your seat. Mel reentered the room, offering you a strained smile as she checked on Yara. You quietly watched her work.

“There’s not much we can do for her until Abby and your friend get back,” she said to you, eyes still focused on Yara. “If you want, I can get you set up with a place to sleep while we wait.”

“No,” you said, too quickly to be polite. “…Thank you. I’ll stay with Yara.”

Mel pulled her lips into a tight line and nodded, leaving the room again. She came back a few minutes later with water and a shiny red apple, offering them up for you to take.

“Sorry. I know it’s not much. Owen isn’t well-stocked on food right now,” she said after you’d accepted the snack.

You smiled. “Thank you. You’re very kind to be helping us at all.”

Mel didn’t really answer, instead gesturing to the door as she walked toward it. “Well, we’ll… be around. If you need anything. And I’ll come in and check on her periodically.”

You nodded, quietly thanking her again. The discarded cloak that you’d left on a table by the door caught your eye. “Oh. Wait.”

She turned to face you again, eyebrows raised in question.

“What is The Lord of the Rings?” you asked.

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An excursion that was supposed to take two hours ended up taking nearly all day.

But hey, Abby had done the best she could.

She faced her deeply-rooted fear of heights on that sorry excuse for a bridge. She fought off Infected and Scars. She was, let’s say, detained by her fellow WLF soldiers at the hospital. And then she had to fight and kill what must’ve been the biggest, gnarliest, freakiest blob of cordyceps infection to ever exist.

She barely got out of there alive, but she managed to leave with the medical supplies in hand. Plus tons of new material for her future nightmares.

Mel had started operating as soon as they got back to the aquarium, with Owen assisting her.

You and Lev sat just outside the door the entire time.

The surgery had gone well. Yara was doing okay, all things considered.

After, Owen handed Abby a pile of sleeping bags and blankets and walked off without saying a word.

Abby handed them off to you and carefully lifted Yara again, this time to move her to a more comfortable spot to rest. She led the way to the next room, you and Lev trailing behind.

There was a long couch in the new room. You motioned for Lev to lay down on one end while Abby set Yara down on the other.

She stepped back and watched, amused, as you fussed over the two of them for a few minutes, using most of the blankets on your young friends.

When you were sure they were both as comfortable as possible, you left them to rest and walked back over to Abby. In your arms, you held the two sleeping bags that you hadn’t used on the kids.

You offered one of them to her.

She shook her head, motioning to the space on the floor in front of the couch where there was an old, worn-out rug.

“Lay mine out for me? I have to go do something before I go to sleep.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, looking concerned.

“I just need to talk to Owen. I’ll be right back.”

You studied her face, like you were trying to figure out whether or not she was being truthful.

Abby doubled down, pointing again. “Go. Get some sleep. I’ll be back.”

You sighed but went where she had pointed and began laying out the two sleeping bags.

One for you. One for her. Right next to each other on the floor.

You had been doing a good job of hiding it, but Abby could tell you were exhausted. She couldn’t blame you. Hell, she was exhausted. And the sooner she touched base with Owen, the sooner she could come back.

She turned and went out to track him down.

----------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t know what was wrong with you.

You had been awake for almost forty-eight hours, but you couldn’t fall asleep. Your mind was racing. Filled with worry for Yara, concern about her condition, guilt for having been unable to prevent the injury from happening in the first place. Thoughts of your own people hunting your friends with the intent to kill them. Fear that, despite your desire to keep them safe, your lack of knowledge and experience in the world outside of Haven would make that impossible.

You thought about the woman you killed yesterday. How she’d so tenderly and earnestly called you her Prophet just moments before you snuck up behind her and ended her life.

You wondered if you too were now an apostate. If the Seraphites had found the bodies of Emily and her men and assumed you were dead, or if they somehow knew that you betrayed them all the very moment you were given the chance.

You wondered if your mother knew what you had done. If she would be punished for your sins.

You thought about Abby, hoping that your faith in her was not misplaced. Hoping that your attraction to her hadn’t clouded your judgment.

This was crazy. All of it. It was too much.

You had tossed everything and everyone you’ve ever known aside, thrown the first twenty years of your life to the wind like it meant nothing at all, and run off into the forest with a Wolf without a second thought. And now that you, Yara, and Lev were finally (seemingly) not in immediate danger, you had time to think things through. Contemplate what you’d done and try to figure out where it left you.

By your own hand, your life had been irreparably changed forever. It was done. There was no undoing it. No going back.

You would stay with Lev and Yara. You would stay with Abby if that’s what she wanted.

But where would you go? It wasn’t safe for any of you to stay here.

That wasn’t a question you could answer. You didn’t know of anywhere else. You wouldn’t know how to find a place that was safe.

All of these thoughts bombarded your mind at once, taking turns at the forefront. Contradicting emotions swirled, adding to the chaos.

There was a sadness, a sense of loss for the people you had always belonged to.

Guilt and shame. Two feelings that were not at all foreign to you, but you had never felt as strongly as you did now.

A lightness. A happiness. Almost a thrill. A hopeful nervousness for the freedom you had claimed for yourself, the agency you had uncovered, and the possibility of what was to come.

Sadness, again, for the mother you would miss, and the realization that you had already been missing her for a very long time.

Frustration—simmering anger—for your childhood that was stolen and the shame that did not originate within yourself. The unrelenting voices that lived in your head, weighing in on every thought and critiquing every action. But those voices were not your own. You would take your dagger and cut their presence from your mind, carefully carving them out of your head and disposing of them yourself if you could.

And, amongst everything else taking up space inside of you, demanding your attention, it felt stupid and frivolous and wasteful, but you couldn’t keep Abby from your thoughts. She kept appearing, in the middle of it all. This was something that you truly did not have time for and should not be putting energy toward.

But you had never felt intrinsically drawn to someone in the way you were drawn to her…

Behind you, you could hear slow, heavy breaths coming from either end of the couch. You were glad that Lev and Yara were getting some rest. You’d do your best to make sure they got their fill of it this time.

You got up quietly, trying not to disturb them but feeling like you needed to move. You shook out your arms, rolled your neck around, wiggled your fingers, stretched your legs.

Honestly, you wanted run. Or hit something. Or scream. Loudly and for a long time. Until you ran out of air and your voice was ragged.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

Instead, you went to look for Abby.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Seriously? You’re telling me Isaac’s top Scar killer just… turned over a new leaf? Decided to befriend and help three Scars?” Mel was staring into Abby’s soul, her words dripping in disbelief.

Abby had found her and Owen upstairs, in the same room that had once housed the boat man’s skeleton and the couple’s Christmas stockings (not at the same time, of course).

Owen was angry. Exactly what she had done to earn his anger, she couldn’t say. He held a jar of his homemade moonshine. A jar that was somewhere between three-quarters and one half full. Abby assumed it had been filled to the top just a few minutes ago.

He had apparently decided to be a silent, brooding drunk tonight, so Mel had been the one to interrogate her.

Abby tried to explain everything, albeit keeping things pretty vague. She didn’t want to give them too much information about you specifically, and she didn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you, so she made sure to omit the part where you nearly gutted her. And the part where you were the new Scar Prophet that Isaac was after.

Mel wasn’t buying the part where Abby simply had a change of heart.

She shot Owen a cautious look before she said, “Abby, do you—I thought you might—Is it possible that you’re…” Mel stopped, gathering her thoughts, trying to find the best way to word it. “It’s not… like… a problem that she’s a woman. It’s just… it is kind of a big deal that she’s a Scar—”

“Abby isn’t into a fucking Scar,” Owen interjected, his knuckles white around the mouth of the jar. “And she’s not fucking gay.”

Then he started chugging the jar’s contents, forcing down swallow after painful swallow.

The women were both silent for a second, surprised by the anger in his words.

Abby didn’t know what to say. She knew she was into you—and she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t at least part of the reason why she was helping you and your friends—but she had never considered if that made her gay.

She honestly didn’t really care to label herself as anything either way. It felt stupid—in the honest-to-god post-apocalyptic hellscape that they lived in, where they had been engaged in a never-ending war since they were kids—to care about that kind of thing.

Why should it matter—when her family was dead, her friends were constantly in danger, and there were enemies closing in from every angle—if she was romantically or sexually interested in men or women or both? Wasn’t that almost guaranteed to be the least important detail at any given moment? And why should she waste any of her time or energy trying to define herself in that way?

This was all really new to her. She hadn’t really let herself be interested in anyone since Owen, and she honestly wasn’t sure if she had ever been into him for the right reasons. Again, she remembered how uncomfortable it made her feel to kiss him, to be touched by him…

She couldn’t imagine that it would feel like that if you touched her. And just the fact that she hoped one day she’d find out was probably telling enough.

So maybe, in the Old World, people would’ve called Abby a lesbian. Maybe she would’ve identified with that title if things were different, if her life was lower stakes, and if she’d had more time to explore herself and her interests.

What-ifs didn’t matter. What mattered was that she was here now. You were with her—and she needed to figure out a plan of how to proceed from here—so she could make sure to keep it that way. She could figure out the rest later.

Mel was the first to speak, annoyed, but addressing him calmly, like she was talking to a rabid animal. “Owen—”

He didn’t even let her get a word in.

“No. This is bullshit! Abby—” He looked past Mel to meet Abby’s gaze, insistent. “I’m going to Santa Barbara to find the Fireflies. If you’re smart, you’ll ditch the Scars and come with me.”

Mel slammed her hands on the table, causing both Abby and Owen to jump. “What the hell do you mean, you’re going to Santa Barbara?! We are going to Santa Barbara!” They weren’t used to seeing violent outbursts from Mel. She was the queen of passive aggression, but she rarely lost her cool. “What is wrong with you, Owen? Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? This is all so seriously fucked up.” She turned away from them, clenching her fists at her sides, looking like she might cry. Or hit something. Or both.

But for the first time in years, Abby wasn’t on the receiving end of her disdain.

Guess all she had to do for her old friend to stop seeing her as a threat was get entangled with the Scar Prophet. No big deal.

Owen, in a moment of clarity, seemed to realize how huge of an asshole he was being to the mother of his child. He set down his jar, stood, and walked over to Mel, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her into him, her back pressed against his front. He was swaying on his feet, his cheeks flushed, hands clumsy. If he hadn’t been drunk before, he definitely was now. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. We are going to Santa Barbara. Of course it’s we. Hell, the Scars can come too for all I care. We’ll make it a party.”

Abby rolled her eyes at his quick switch-up and turned to go. Clearly this conversation wasn’t going anywhere productive tonight, with Owen drunk, Mel upset, and all of them exhausted beyond belief.

There was a creak by the door, and all three of them turned to look, Owen’s reaction far more delayed than Abby and Mel’s.

You stood there in your long white dress, hesitant to come in. Shy, having clearly interrupted a tense conversation.

Abby wondered how long you’d been standing there unnoticed. Her instinct was to meet you in the doorway and take you back to bed, away from Owen’s rude drunkenness and Mel’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hey! Scar! How the hell are ya? Come join us! We were just talking about sunny California. Ever been?” Owen pulled away from Mel and plopped back down on the couch, finding his jar again.

“Umm…” You looked to Abby for guidance, but she was just as unsettled as you. “No. I haven’t… Sorry, I was just looking for Abby.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” he mumbled under his breath. Abby wasn’t sure if you caught that, but she wasn’t interested in having you hear any more of this.

“Let’s just go,” she said to you, moving toward where you still stood in the doorway.

“No! Come! Sit! Let’s talk,” Owen insisted, slapping the spot next to him on the couch.

You gave Abby another hesitant look before walking past her to join Owen. Mel sighed and lowered herself into a nearby chair. When it became clear to her that retreating with you wasn’t an option right now, Abby walked back over. She stood right across from the couch so she could see you, leaned against the wall behind her with her arms crossed over her chest.

You sat next to Owen, although not so close, putting as much distance between you as possible.

“Atta girl,” he chuckled. Abby wanted to punch him.

All of this was out of character for Owen, but she knew that he was always kind of unpredictable when he got drunk. With everything that had happened and emotions running so high, everyone really should just be going to sleep.

With that in mind, Abby would continue to stand nearby until you were ready to leave. She wouldn’t let things get out of hand.

“So… Scar—”

“Seraphite,” Abby corrected him. He scoffed and took another swig.

You smiled softly at her, looking grateful.

“Scar,” he said again. “Can I perhaps interest you in some hooch? Made it myself.” He offered up the jar for you to take, tilting it towards you with unsteady hands.

“No,” Abby immediately answered on your behalf. “She does not want any of your hooch.”

“Well give the girl a chance to answer,” he slurred. “What? Your little girlfriend can’t speak for herself? She can’t make her own decisions?”

You glanced back and forth between him and her, reaching for the open jar of clear liquid, properly baited by his taunting words.

Abby tried to remember that Owen was her friend—her best friend—and that he wasn’t usually like this.

“What is… hooch?” you asked, staring down into the glass jar suspiciously.

“It’s moonshine,” Abby said. When that didn’t clear things up for you, she added, “Alcohol.”

“Like wine?” you asked, tentatively sniffing it.

Owen laughed. Abby nodded, “Kind of, but it’s much stronger. Seriously, you won’t like it.”

There was a flash of something that looked like defiance in your eyes, offense taken at the idea that you wouldn’t be able to handle something that others could.

You put the jar to your lips and tilted it back enough to take in a generous mouthful.

Abby watched as your eyes went wide and you struggled to swallow it. Honestly, she was impressed that you didn’t immediately spit it out. You managed to choke it down before breaking out in a harsh coughing fit.

Owen laughed, accepting the jar as you shoved it back into his hands. Your eyes watered as you tapped on your sternum, taking a second to regain the ability to speak.

“You made that?” you wheezed in disbelief.

“Yep!”

“On purpose?”

Abby laughed at that, leaning back against the wall again once she was convinced that you weren’t dying.

“Hey, that’s prime hooch! You should be thanking me right now.” Owen took his own swig of it, lounging back against the couch with his arm resting along the back.

“Thank you?” You squinted your eyes but tried to be polite.

“I was kidding, princess. You don’t have to thank me.”

Abby, again, resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

“So,” Owen began, “tell me. How is it that you’re a Scar… but you’re not scarred?” He chuckled to himself, as if he had made a joke.

Your eyes shot to meet Abby’s, clearly unprepared to answer that question.

“Not every Seraphite has facial scars,” you said, keeping things vague.

“Every Scar I’ve ever seen does.”

“You’ve seen me, haven’t you?” you shot back.

Abby let out a surprised laugh. Owen clenched his jaw.

“Every Scar has face scars. It’s like your defining thing. It’s why we call you Scars.” He was adamant, unyielding. And the playful mask was starting to slip back into anger. Abby could tell this wasn’t going to end well.

“Well I guess you don’t know as much about Seraphites as you thought you did.” You were frustrated now, pressing yourself further into the far end of the couch to put more distance between the two of you.

Owen opened his mouth with a rebuttal, but Abby jumped in. “Lay off, Owen.”

He threw his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the brown cushions. “Fine, fine. Whatever. Forgive me for having questions. Fuck me, I guess. I’ve just never seen a hot Scar befo—”

Before he could finish the sentence, Mel was on her feet. “Alright. That’s it. You’re done.” She had been sitting silently up until then, ready to intervene if things got out of hand, just as Abby had been. Apparently, Owen calling you hot was where she drew the line.

Abby was glad Mel was saying something. Because if things had gone much further, she really might’ve hit him.

“Get up,” Mel instructed firmly, standing over him. “You’re going to bed.” He let her take the jar out of his hands and, with much effort, pushed himself up off the couch and started walking toward the door. Mel was right behind him, hands hovering on either of his sides in case he lost his balance. He was grumbling under his breath the whole way, like a toddler whose bedtime was being enforced.

Abby watched them go.

Once they were out of sight, she looked down at you, only to find that you were already looking at her.

“Sorry,” she spat out. “About him. He’s not usually like that.”

You nodded, but you didn’t seem sure that you believed her.

“So you guys are… friends?”

Abby cleared her throat. “Uh, yeah. We’ve known each other for years. Joined the WLF together. Me, Owen, Mel, and a few others.”

You considered this for a second before responding. “Where were you before?”

“Salt Lake City,” she said, looking down at her feet. “Utah.” Abby didn’t know if that would mean anything to you.

“Mel doesn’t seem to like you very much,” you said, observant, not trying to offend. Abby smiled, despite the meaning behind your words. You added, “And Owen doesn’t seem to like me.” You stated it like it was a fact, like it was neither good nor bad, just true.

“He’ll get over it. He’s just drunk.” Abby didn’t know if that was true, but she wanted to comfort you in that moment, not that you actually seemed to care all that much about Owen’s opinion of you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You were looking up at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Anything, Abby thought. Out loud, she said, “Sure.”

She pushed away from the wall and came to sit next to you on the couch, filling the spot where Owen had been.

“Why do you people keep calling me princess?” you asked. Abby laughed quietly under her breath, turning her body to face you.

“I don’t know. There’s something about you that’s very princess-like I guess.”

You made a face at her. She smiled wider.

“It’s not a bad thing. You just come across as soft. Delicate. I don’t know… Graceful.”

“I am not delicate,” you said, defensive.

“I know.”

“I’ve killed.”

“I saw.” Abby was being serious, although she did find the conversation amusing. “You’re very skilled with a knife.”

You nodded, satisfied with her response, and fully turned to face Abby. “And what does hot mean? Why did he call me hot?”

“Oh—” Abby stuttered, “Uh—He meant… He was saying that you’re very pretty.”

“Oh.” You considered this, eyes wandering away. “Earlier he said I look like The Lord of the Rings.”

Abby smiled again. There was something about you that felt like it might’ve been taken straight from the high fantasy genre.

“Do you know what that is?” she asked.

“Yes. Sort of. I asked Mel. She said it was a film about a magical land. With fairies and stuff.”

“They were books first.”

“Have you read them?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you read a lot of books?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I try to read as much as I can. Whatever’s available.”

You nodded, thinking, letting the conversation die down.

After a moment, “Abby?”

“Hmm?” she hummed. She liked the way you said her name. Just the sound of it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

“Owen also called me your girlfriend.” You were studying her face, trying to read her reaction.

“Yeah. He did.” Abby said, looking into your inquisitive eyes.

“Does that just mean friend? Or is it something else?”

“He was just trying to piss me off.”

“So it does mean something else?” Your eyes were on her lips now, and you were ever so slightly leaned forward. Almost subconsciously.

“It doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

She was pushing you away, and she didn’t know why. She could’ve answered that question so differently. Maybe she should’ve.

Abby wanted you. And she was almost certain that you felt the same way. At the very least, there was a curiosity. A hesitant attraction.

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. That anything with you would be something she wasn’t good enough for.

Something she didn’t deserve.

Something she would ruin if given the chance.

So tonight, she didn’t give herself that chance.

Was that noble or cowardly? She wasn’t sure.

You pulled away, turning to face forward as you let out a long breath, puffing out your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you said, standing. “And I should check on Yara and Lev.”

“Yeah.” Abby nodded. “Okay.”

She remained in place, ready to mentally beat herself up some more and stew in her thoughts alone for a while.

You cleared your throat lightly, swaying on your feet. “Umm… I’m not sure that I can find my way back to the room. Can you… please—?”

“Oh.” Abby hopped to her feet. “Okay, yeah. I’ll… I guess I’ll go with you.”

She avoided eye contact, leading the way into the dark hallway.

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x seraphite

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SEVEN

in which you come to a few realizations while remembering the very first night you'd met eddie. a phone call with steve leaves you with more questions than answers.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, heavier angst this chapter but all will be well soon, two uses of y/n, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ word count: 4.4k+

→ a/n: shorter chapter today but the focus here is the memory! finally making some progress haha. also trying out something new with formatting/the summary situation. if i hate it, i'll probably change it. <3 also, italicized portion is a memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

7:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00

DINGUS: [image attachment]

DINGUS: y/n just texted me this. we’re not getting an update this hour.

BIRDIE: what the hell happened?

DINGUS: she hasn’t said yet, as you can see in the photo, robs.

ARGYLE 😎: what do we THINK happened?

BIRDIE: my best bet is fighting?

ARGYLE 😎: lover’s quarrel? Makes sense.

BIRDIE: i’m adding nance back into the chat

BIRDIE added NANCE to the groupchat.

BIRDIE: @NANCE explain what you meant earlier please. we’re having a code red. the bad kind.

DINGUS: there’s a good kind of code red?

NANCE: Oh God, what happened?

DINGUS: y/n texted me saying she fucked up, and we’re assuming either she’s finally murdered eddie, or they’re fighting again.

NANCE: I can call Eddie, if you guys want?

JOHNNY: So does this mean we’re all $500 richer?

BIRDIE: @JOHNNY if you still think this is about the money, you’re a fucking idiot

—

HOUR SEVEN - 10:00 PM

There had been a time in your life where you believed you didn’t hold a single mean bone in your body. A time where you were soft-spoken, a time where you overflowed with kindness and dotted out compliments to random strangers. There was once a version of you in this lifetime that worked so fervently to be the type of person people liked and enjoyed the company of. You always swore to always treat others with the same grace as you would prefer to receive as well.

A year ago, that version of you had been sidetracked.

You stare at the wooden frame of Eddie’s door with blank eyes. He wasn’t going to open it any time soon. You’d tried knocking multiple times, calling out to him in a soft voice, begging and pleading and begging and pleading. His response continued to be silence.

“All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

With the haze clearing, in the midst of the aftermath and sour clarity, you wish you would have corrected him. Eddie and you had surely hurt each other countless times, but it is not all he’s ever done.

You can remember the better moments clearly now. The time you’d tripped walking up the steps of one of the bars on Main Street, and Eddie had been the only person in your friend group to stop completely, reflectively reaching out to catch you from embarrassing yourself. The night of your birthday, in which he hadn’t come to the party due to “work” as Steve had explained, but had sent a card along with your friends that contained a gift card to your favorite coffee shop. You hadn’t even realized he knew your favorite coffee shop, and you’d come to find out that he didn’t even ask a single one of your mutual friends for it. You’d brushed it off as a lucky guess. And there was the time you’d forgotten your wallet during a brunch with the group, and he hadn’t hesitated to pick up your bill with his own. He didn’t even give Robin the chance to argue; he’d simply snatched your bill from across the table when you’d paled as you dug through your bag, and didn’t say a word about you paying him back.

Small moments. Glimpses of kindness, bandages on wounds that you’d been ignoring to keep up a war between the two of you that you’d always assumed he’d started.

Eddie Munson wasn’t the enemy, and the first night you two met was never a red herring; it was a glimpse into who he actually was. A clear look past the armor he hadn’t formed yet when it came to you.

—

A YEAR AGO

“They’re going to love you!” Robin insists as she continues to shove you from behind through the entrance of the bar. Steve is ahead of you, guiding you through the rough crowd to the table the rest of the group had already snagged.

You turn your head over your shoulder, reaching up and grabbing the hand that Robin rested on you, “You don't know that. What if they hate me? What if they think I’m the worst person they’ve ever met?”

Even as you wore a smile, there was a truth to the fear in your words. You were petrified that these strangers, strangers who meant so much to your only friends on campus, would turn their noses to you. There was nothing Robin or Steve could do to extinguish the fear. It was already a terrible knot in the pit of your stomach, tying and untying itself like a nuisance as Steve started to wave at a brunette who had been scanning the bar as if waiting for someone.

She’s pretty. Wavy hair barely brushing her shoulders, sharp features accentuated in the shadows of the busy location. The moment her blue eyes locked on Steve, all the concentration on her face faded to be replaced with an excited smile.

She returns the wave, and the boys surrounding her at the table all glance in your direction.

You’re still half-hidden behind Steve as the three of you approach the group. Robin bounds out from behind you, scooping the woman you assumed was the famous Nancy into a barrelling hug. Your eyes flickered to the boy sat to Nancy’s right, shaggy hair flopping against his forehead and smile creases exposed as he nods to Steve and holds up his drink in greeting. Beside him, another man sits, long and shiny hair flowing over an outrageous Hawaiian print shirt and topped off with a baseball cap that looked to be the merchandise of a pizza shop. His smile is welcoming – something comforting in the relaxation of it.

You’re almost completely captivated by the warmth that bled from the group when Steve and Robin are suddenly taking their seats. Robin sits beside Nancy, while Steve takes the seat across from the man with long hair.

The only seat left open was between Steve and a man who’s back was turned to you.

His hair is in a loose bun, unraveling against the nape of his neck. You could see each and every defined curl. His broad shoulders stiffen beneath a leather jacket and denim vest, and his ring-clad hand cradles a short glass of something dark, something fizzy.

“Alright, everyone!” Steve announces, turning and beckoning you to take this seat. Your stomach twists again, realizing you’d be sitting beside a stranger. One who had yet to even spare you a glance, “This is Y/N.”

There’s rounds of greetings and introductions as you brush shoulders with the stranger to take your seat, and try as you might to keep up, all you can focus on is not looking at him.

You’re guess was correct – the pretty girl that Robin had hugged was Nancy. The boy with floppy hair at her side was Jonathan, and the man with long hair told you his name is Argyle. His tone of casualty matches the comfort of his smile as he holds a hand out to you across the table, both your elbow and his brushing against empty baskets once filled with bar food as you shake.

Finally, you turn to look at the stranger beside you, Steve reaching around to clasp his shoulder.

“And mister oh-so-welcoming here is Eddie.”

Eddie. He finally turns to look at you, with doleful eyes and a tight-lipped grin, and you almost forget how to breathe.

He was intimidating. All broodish glances and stand-offish energy. But then Argyle cracks a joke, and suddenly, it all fades. The air in the room crackles frantically as you watch him chuckle slowly at first, until he finally descends into cackles with Steve and Jonathan alike.

That’s when the first vine sprouts.

The second one does when the conversation becomes overwhelming, and you find yourself lost amongst the sea of new friends. They’re nothing but friendly, trying to learn more about you but easily falling into well-established inside jokes at times. When you descend into silence as you watch them recount a story of a time that Argyle snuck them into his job after hours, you suddenly feel Eddie lean in closer to you.

“I think they tell this story every time they get drunk,” he whispers, tilting his head so that the words only reach your ears, “I’ve probably heard it a hundred times by now.”

You bite back a smile, “Just tonight, or the entire time you’ve known them?”

“Both.”

You have to fight hard to swallow down giggles, Eddie hiding his with a sip of his drink. A waiter who had taken your order nearly ten minutes ago arrives with your own drink. An amaretto sour.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he says as you taste the drink. Its citrus bursts across your tongue and you nod.

“So Steve mentioned.”

“Yeah, but I felt bad for not introducing myself,” he shrugs. You were facing him fully now, no longer trying to stick vehemently to Steve’s side. “I didn’t want to seem like a dick, just… had a long week.”

You knew all about long weeks.

“I get it,” you assure him, “Are you in school, too?”

“Night classes,” he supplies with a wave of his hand, “Midterms are a bitch, especially after working all day.”

“Tell me about it. I think I’m about ten seconds away from getting fired at my current gig,” you joke, and Eddie laughs. It occurs to you that you’d probably do just about anything to hear his laugh more, and already begin to conjure up terrible jokes to pull that sound from him once more. It’s even more comforting than Argyle’s friendly cadence, than Steve’s elbow knocking yours to remind you he’s still there.

“Why would you think that?” Eddie’s nose scrunches, more curls falling against his cheek. Your drink is immediately forgotten.

“He caught me talking shit,” another laugh falls from Eddie’s lips at your deadpan, more reserved than the previous but just as melodic, “I give it a week. He was already looking for a reason to send me to the chopping block. Says I talk too much to customers.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Apparently.”

For a moment, in the smoky bar, it’s just you and Eddie. All knotting nerves have been replaced by the weight of the vines that surge higher and higher in your chest, growing at impossible rates. They don’t strangle you like your fears of the night had; their weight is a comforting hold, something solid to reach out for in the unfamiliar territory of new socialization. Without the mask of intimidation, Eddie feels like an old friend.

You assume that everyone else is distracted by their own conversation, but Robin catches the way you lean into him as the two of you joke. She nudges Nancy subtly, and they both share a look when Eddie blushes at you being impressed as he tells you that his battle vest is hand-sewn.

Your vines are not as hidden as you assume they are, certainly not when the first bud of hopefulness begins to grow.

“So how long have you known Steve?” you ask him quietly, still under the guise of the two of you having created your own small bubble of a moment.

Eddie downs the last of his Jack & Coke, something you caught onto by smelling it on his breath when he had gotten particularly close to you during conversation, “Too long. We all met in high school, actually.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that,” you groan, and your forehead dramatically falls into his shoulder without second-thought. He stiffens beneath the connection, “I’m infiltrating a friend group that’s stood the test of times? I’m doomed.”

You nearly lift your head from his still stiff shoulder, afraid to make him uncomfortable, when he brings a hesitant hand to pat your back jokingly, “There, there. I think you’re fitting in fine.”

“Just fine? Ouch,” you finally lift your head as you had planned to, just as Eddie had begun to relax into your touch. His hand doesn’t fall too far from your back, resting on the back of your chair. His shy grin is impossibly charming, “You could have just said I’m crashing and burning, you know?”

The night carries on like that, you and Eddie lost in private conversations only to be occasionally dragged back in on whatever debate the group is having. It’s a spring reaction; once one or both of you have given your two cents, you return to one another, finding solitude in joking and Eddie updating you on the group’s ‘lore’, as he puts it. Steve shoots several glances in your direction, always prepared to offer comfort in what should be an overwhelming situation, but he never has to. Every time he glances at you, Eddie is already taking the lead of entertaining you, qualming all your anxieties into non-existence.

Your vines decorate with buds of hope. Every laugh you pull from Eddie, every fleeting touch that passes between the two of you, every new inside joke he decides to make with you rather than indulging in ones set in stone already with old friends - they all whisper of new friendship. They whisper in potential, in new beginnings and coming home after long weeks.

By the time Nancy announces she has to go to the restroom and invites you and Robin, you’re in full bloom. You’re convinced that Eddie is a friend. And you can see it in his eyes – he’s convinced of it too, looking nervous when you stand and agree to go with Nancy. He looks like a child about to lose their social crutch, and it has potential to be devastating.

It’s almost enough to make you ignore your bladder, but you need to pee, and you need to socialize with more than just Eddie tonight.

You’re not sure what happens at the table during your trip to the bathroom. But something surely does happen as you giggle with the girls under the humming lights of the restroom, as you all stand in the mirror side by side and fiddle with your hair and makeup and Robin makes a comment about how terribly cliche the moment is. Nancy slaps her on the arm, mutters something about the importance of girls bonding, and when you return to the table, you see it immediately – Eddie’s mask of indifference has returned.

His cheeks are flushed, and all the boys are sharing nervous glances between one another as you all sit down again.

There’s no more fleeting touches. You sip on your now watered down drink, and you try and pull Eddie out from wherever he’s ventured in your absence, but it’s no use. A conversation was had while you girls had been in the restroom, and it left Eddie in his head, out of reach. The buds of hopefulness quiver on their vines, and you try to reassure yourself that it’s nothing personal. It’s nothing personal when he clearly holds back any laughs at your jokes you lean into his space to whisper to only him, it’s nothing personal when his arm never rests on the back of your chair again, it’s nothing personal when he won’t meet your eyes the rest of the night.

It’s nothing personal, but it’s sorely disappointing.

You end the night, everyone splitting up, Eddie heading off towards his motorcycle. He hadn’t even mentioned driving a motorcycle during the night, and you curse the way you watch him straddle the seat as he secures his helmet over his tied-back hair. You desperately wish to know what was said while you were in the bathroom, what had happened to make him retreat so far from you after spending the entirety of the night tending to the greenery that had grown attached to your ribcage.

“You like him, don’t you?” Robin teases at your side, bumping shoulders.

Something aches in you. The thrill of meeting someone new, of getting along, of finding them cute and endearing, is beyond your grasp.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

“I did,” you whisper softly. A reverberation of past-tense, an exhale of worry.

You did. But he didn’t even say goodbye.

—

Eddie still hasn’t opened the door. But to his defense, you haven’t tried knocking again.

That ache from that night, the feeling of a delicate rush of possibility taunting you from a distance, still remains. Even amongst now rotted vines, even as petals fall from your hopeful buds. It never really went away. With each group hangout that followed, it echoed louder and louder, demanding to be heard and demanding to be felt as Eddie grew colder. You were an idiot the first few times; you’d still gravitated to him, falling right into his orbit and begging for his attention. You’d still seek him out in every room, craving to find the warmth that had once sparked in his eyes only to find them averted from you entirely. And when you couldn’t take the hint, when you wouldn’t leave him alone when Steve and Robin left you to your own devices at the hangouts, he became mean.

You took it as a joke at first, but six months ago, something inside of you finally wisened up – it wasn’t a joke. Eddie Munson hated you. Somehow, he hated you, and yet he also swore to protect you. He hated you, and yet he would still pay for you without you asking him to. He hated you, and yet he still remembered your birthday. He hated you, and yet, he still knew your favorite coffee shop.

He hated you and yet.

You stand, unable to take your racing thoughts anymore, moving to pound on the door again, “Eddie. Open the door.”

You’re not asking anymore.

You don’t care for answers any more. In this moment, you truly believe you could let it all be water under the bridge. Right this second, if you looked into honey brown eyes and goddamn dimples, you’d forgive him.

“Eddie,” your voice cracks, and you scorn yourself.

All I ever do is hurt you.

Even in locking himself away, he’s hurting you. Putting that distance, choosing to not work this out like adults, is hurting you.

“Can you- I don’t know, at least let me know that… that…” you trail off, huffing in frustration and finally smacking a flat palm against wood, watching the door shake on its hinges from your force, “Just let me know you’re alive, Jesus Christ, Eddie. We still have to take the stupid fucking photo for this hour, and we-”

Mid-tirade, the door swings open to reveal Eddie. He doesn’t look irritated, he doesn’t look mad. He looks tired.

The war between you two has weighed heavy on him, too. He doesn’t look like the same person you met a year ago. The battles raged, the fights lost, the victories celebrated through bloody teeth – they all show on the shadows of his face, a clear mirror image to your own.

“Take the photo,” he says in monotone, hardly leaving the door cracked enough to catch a proper glimpse of him.

“What?”

“The photo. Take it. For the chat, so you can get your money when it’s all over.”

You’re stunned for a second. The money hadn’t even crossed your mind; you had just been rambling, hoping to find the right thing to say to get him to unlock the barrier between you two.

Who the fuck even cares about the money anymore?

You do. You’re supposed to. And so is he.

You sigh and pull your phone from your back pocket, and turn your back to him before lifting the camera to capture the two of you. The door creaks open an inch more.

There’s no fun pose. There’s no smiles. There’s nothing. It’s even more lifeless than the first photo taken. You can’t stand to look at it longer than necessary as you send it off to the group.

Just as you turn around to face him again, to try and talk to him, the door shuts again. You can hear the soft click of a lock. The ache is heard, the ache is felt, as you refuse to look back at the wood that still separates you physically, at the emotions that separate you mentally.

You don’t really know why you do it. But you walk out to the living room, deciding against sitting outside the door any longer and continuing to make yourself miserable. Your feet carry you straight to the sliding door of his balcony, and you press outside into the cooler night air, shutting the door behind you.

What happened when I was in the bathroom that night?

The thought haunts you, a new ghost that had been lingering and gathering dust since that night. You never asked anyone, certainly not Eddie, and refuse to overthink it until now. But after tonight, after practically reliving your first encounter with Eddie all over again, the deja vu and the curiosity are winning over.

You dial Steve’s number.

“Hell-”

“Why do me and Eddie hate each other?” you blurt out, cutting off Steve’s greeting.

“I- What?” Steve’s confused, understandably so, “How should I know? I don’t keep a list of every time you rant about him to me.”

“What about him?”

“Okay, you know I love you, but I’m not a mind-read-”

“What about a list of every time he rants about me?”

Silence buzzes through the line, and you glance up at the night sky. It’s a cloudy black. The city pollution hides most of the stars, and from Eddie’s balcony, you can’t locate the moon.

“I also don’t have one of those.”

“Why not? Because, Jesus Christ, Harrington, I have questions-”

“Because he doesn’t rant about you. Especially not to me, but Nancy says he never talks about you usually either,” Steve explains in an even tone, still not sure how his answer should be helping you. You are the one, afterall, with Eddie right now.

Even if he is locked away in his room right now, refusing to speak to you.

“That makes no sense,” you sigh, exasperation creeping its way into your bones, “I rant about him all the time. I’ve bitched to you and Robin more times than I can count about him. He should be doing the same.”

Steve says your name softly, “Why are you asking me this?”

You laugh humorlessly and shake your head, even knowing Steve can’t see you, “It’s stupid. Forget it,” It’s not stupid to you, and you can’t forget it, but this doesn’t concern Steve, “Can I ask you one last question, though?”

“Shoot, babydoll,” you can’t help but grin at that nickname. Steve pulls it out at random, every time he’s trying to make you feel bad. He knows that neither of you can take it seriously.

“Um, that night you introduced me to everyone,” you begin, stepping up to wrap your free hand around the iron railing of Eddie’s balcony, letting the cold seep into your palm, “At the bar, you know?”

“Right…” he encourages, “What about it?”

“Me and Eddie got along,” you spit it out, letting it tear from your chest and score your throat on its way out, “We… we were getting along at first, and then I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, he…. He…”

He was gone. The Eddie I’d first met had vanished. Where’d he go? Why’d he go?

“Shit, your memory is way better than mine,” Steve chuckles, sounding nervous, “But, I mean, I kind of remember that. You two getting along, at least. Guess that’s why we all were really confused when you started hating each other. But I’m still not understanding the question - are you asking if I remember the night? Or if he’s ever talked about it? I was a jock, you’re gonna have to spell it out for my pea brain.”

“Stop insinuating you’re stupid,” you scold on instinct, scowl settling along your features as you lean onto the railing and glance down. It’s only two stories, but the ground feels impossibly far as you ask, “What happened when all us girls went to the bathroom? When we came back, he acted differently. Did he mention hating me that night? Did I leave a bad first impression? Was it all just a joke to hi-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. One question, remember?” you’re sure Steve can hear the panting in your breath over the line, the way your chest heaves in the memory, “I’ve gotta be honest - I don’t remember. I know that’s probably not the answer you’re looking for, and I don’t know what’s going on with you two right now, but I was already well on my way to drunk. I think Jonathan and Argyle poked some fun at Eddie, maybe teased him about something, but I really can’t recall what it was about. Maybe his hair? Who knows?”

The answer isn’t helpful. It’s only more confusing, more hurtful.

He stopped joking with you because someone made fun of his hair? You lost access to the warmth buried beneath his surface because his friends teased him?

“Okay,” you sound defeated. You feel defeated – defeated by the weight of still feeling like an outsider, defeated by the barrier of some measly wooden door, defeated by the hurt in Eddie’s eyes as you admitted that he only ever hurts you, “Okay, thanks, Steve.”

You hang up before either of you say goodbye. When you pull your phone down from your cheek and ear, you see your phone still open to the photo of Eddie and you that you’d sent to the group.

You were wrong. There wasn’t only nothing. Your face may have been void of all emotions, but now looking at it, you can see Eddie’s isn’t.

He’s looking at you and not the camera during the shot, face crestfallen, eyes nearly teary as the corners of his mouth tucked downward.

He’s looking at you with regret, with sadness. He’s looking at you as if he can see the vines he’d planted in you, all rotted and dusting away, and he’s mourning them just as you had.

It’s bullshit, or your imagination, or your innate need for Eddie to bleed the same way as you have over your entire situation with each other. You lock your phone and don’t bother to look at the photo again as you enter the living room, as you toss your phone onto the loveseat, as you curl up on the couch and don’t even bother to go to ask for a pillow or blanket. He probably wouldn’t answer the door, anyway.

You don’t say goodnight to Eddie, just as he never said goodbye to you the first night, and wonder if he notices the absence of your salutation.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#eddie munson #twenty four hours #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #feels so short of a chapter haha #angsty babes

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svsssfanonarchive · 10 months ago

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Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 22/∞

LUO BINGHE AND SHEN QINGQIU WERE MEANT TO END UP TOGETHER IN THE ORIGINAL DRAFT OF PIDW

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

There is a somewhat common interpretation in fandom that in Airplane's original outline for PIDW, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu were meant to be together in the end. While this could be an entertaining concept, and there is a potential argument to support it, I believe that this interpretation conflicts with canon due to the fact that a contradictory intention for the original draft was directly stated.

The original idea most likely comes from the following quote:

Shang Qinghua raised his arms high. “Cucumber-bro,” he said, impassioned, “if the System hadn’t selected you, a loyal and die-hard reader, I’m afraid the plot would never have been distorted to this extent, right back to the outline I discarded..." (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

While it is certainly one possible interpretation to read this as "the plot of SVSSS is what Airplane would have written," and on first glance it does appear to be this way, I think that this has much more to do with the type of characters and the filling of plot holes, as earlier in the conversation, he says this:

"...Compared to writing the kind of stallion guy who’s everywhere on Zhongdian, it’s better to portray a male lead like the current Bing-ge, whose life is full of mishaps, whose personality is a bit more complex and full of contradictions and conflicts—that kind of weirdo. That’s more in line with my writing philosophy.” (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

Shen Qingqiu is the one who first remarks on sexuality, and Airplane defends gay protagonists, but the "original outline" seems to be more likely referencing this quote.

There is also the interesting fact of this thought:

Why did that make it sound like the System and this world were the creation of Shang Qinghua’s regrets, as an author who’d had to scrap his outline in favor of popular opinion? (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

Though this is just a side thought from Shen Qingqiu, it is an interesting thing to note nonetheless, especially if one also considers the system's original requirements:

【 One, change the nonsensical plot and raise the average IQ of the villains and supporting characters. Two, avoid landmines that break suspension of disbelief. Three, ensure the main character’s satisfaction points. Four, discover and finish hidden plot events. 】 (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

If we follow the thread of "the system as a creation of Shang Qinghua's regrets," we can pair that with the list of requirements above. Of course, that implies that there is anything specifically to read from that earlier comment of Shen Qingqiu's, which may or may not be the case.

Considering the requirements, though, the only one that specifically relates to BingQiu getting together would be "ensure the main character's satisfaction points," but it does not specify romance between those two characters as the only way to do so.

While the first passage is the one mainly used to argue for this theory, one could also use the matter of Shen Qingqiu's red thread linking to Luo Binghe to support it-- that is, if one ascribes the cut thread to either Shen Yuan's former life, or to some other party, and the current thread belonging to the identity of Shen Qingqiu (not specifically Shen Yuan, therefore meaning that it was still present with Shen Jiu). This is a fairly weak argument, but one I will still address for clarity's sake. The text specifically says the following regarding the red threads:

“Sir, about the red thread from your past—my skill is insufficient, so I can’t…see it clearly. At first glance, it seemed like you were alone, but if I look carefully, I can catch a faint glimpse of another thread.” She concluded regretfully, “This thread has been cut… Such a pity.” Shen Jiu had once had a fiancée, but Shen Yuan was a single dog! Their two threads were tangled together, so it was no surprise that the madam couldn’t see it all clearly. (7 Seas, Ch. 23)

Shen Yuan assumes the cut thread belongs to Shen Jiu-- and this makes sense, since it is only a faint glimpse. The remnant of Shen Jiu's red thread remaining attached to Shen Qingqiu's body falls in line with the way that Shen Jiu's memories also remained to some degree-- even though it is Shen Yuan's soul which now occupies the body, there are still traces of its former inhabitant. As to who Shen Jiu's cut thread belongs to, that is a topic for another post-- nonetheless, it is safe to believe that neither of these threads of the past point to Luo Binghe. Notably, there is not one single red thread that stretches from the past to the future. The options in the past are either "alone" or "severed thread," regardless of whose is whose.

Of course, despite these arguments having strengths and weaknesses, nothing thus far has proven one way or another whether Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe were intended to be together-- for that, we must go to Shang Qinghua's own thoughts and the following passage:

【 Basic completion of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s original outline achieved (slight deviation in romance plotline); objective complete. Retrieving function to return to original world; download complete. Activate Return Home sequence? 】 Basic completion of the original outline? That he agreed with. All the holes that needed to be filled had been filled. But this “slight deviation of romance plot” wasn’t quite right. Bing-ge was now fully gay; how could you say that was a “slight deviation”? Ah, fine, fine, in fact, in his original outline, Bing-ge hadn’t even had a romance plotline; he had been doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever. If you insisted on adding a romance plotline, all right, that was whatever, so putting aside all the System’s rambling…this meant he could return to his original world?! (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

This passage makes it perfectly clear that the BingQiu romance was not part of the original outline, both in the system's note of "slight deviation in romance plotline," as well as in Shang Qinghua's own words-- that the original Bing-ge wasn't intended to have a romance at all.

If it were not for this section, I would rate the theory as unsupported or perhaps as neutral, but because there is direct clarification in the above passage, it can only be said that Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu were not canonically meant to end up together in the original draft of PIDW, and that this assertion is fanon which contradicts canon.

#fanon exposed #svsss #conflicting #luo binghe #shen qingqiu

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the-heart-of-leo · 9 months ago

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Nick's so far under the bus that they might as well change the oil while they're under there.

Okay, because I'm a bit of a masochist and I have adblockers...

I'm going to count how many times James throws Nick under the bus:

@2:40 – 'This fell upon Nick as well, as a non-binary person on the ace spectrum, they wanted to include asexuality and non-binary representation to our videos. But because Nick's experience is not universal – There is no universal experience – people felt that we were delegitimizing their own experiences because we focused on Nick's.' (The reason we were acephobic was because we (meaning Nick) didn't think other ace people had problems and when it was pointed out to us by The Ace Couple that ace people did, in fact, face discrimination and conversion therapy, we (meaning James) accused them of homophobia and sicced their followers on them.)

@6:38 – 'The work Nick and I were doing on the channel...' (Because Nick was here too! Not just me!)

@10:46 – 'I was much more interested in the production of the videos than the writing of them, at this point. So after three or four videos, I brought Nick on as a main writer for the channel. The idea is that they would write the vast majority of the scripts. I would film, voice, and edit the videos and we'd split the money that came in.'(Nick was the main writer for the channel! In case you forgot...)

@14:40 – 'And then my mom died... and I became completely useless. I couldn't think straight, at all, so Nick had to completely take over writing duties.'(DID I MENTION NICK WAS THE MAIN WRITER. ALSO MY MOM DIED; FEEL SORRY FOR ME)

@19:44 – 'When Nick got back, he believed the script needed a first page rework. This was also when he told me he was going to be moving back to Ontario permanently soon as he wanted to live closer to family and live in a bigger city with more opportunities. This was a punch to the gut for me. We'd been living together since 2015 and had become quite dependent on each other. I felt like there was no way I could make this movie without him.'(We couldn't make the movie we promised because SOMEONE DECIDED TO MOVE and since I'm co-dependent on him, I moved with him and screwed up everything. Oopsie.)

@26:32 – 'But by accepting as many sponsors as we did, which became very important when Nick and I started living apart and suddenly had two rents to pay, we ended up needing to produce even more videos. Which, along with the work on Telos and making sure everything was okay with my dad while living thousands of kilometers away meant I had even less time for writing – putting more stress on Nick and leading to even more copy and pasting from me.' (See what you did, Nick?! We have to pay TWO rents now and we need to make even MORE videos. I'm not creepily co-dependent on my asexual ex-roommate at all!)

@32:50 – 'I know what misinformation had made its way into our past videos. That was not something we intended; in some cases it was information I was told by people I considered experts. In other cases it was information that we had researched. In other cases it was things that Nick had learned in university.'(Nick told me some of this stuff! ((which is fair because NICK ADMITTED HE DOESN'T DO RESEARCH)) In other cases it was because I assumed I knew what happened because I'm the smartest person I know so of course Lesbians had it easier! I just forgot that Radcliffe Hall's books were banned and destroyed because of that head injury I talked about earlier.)

And here's an honorable mention where the smug “I'm smarter than you” BS comes to visit:

'To those who say I plagiarized the plot from the novel Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix – Read the book. It's nothing like the plot of the movie. And 'The Final Girl' is a trope in horror movies so if using the Final Girl trope is plagiarism then basically everyone who's made a slasher movie since Texas Chainsaw Massacre owes the Toby Hooper estate some money.'

So, much like how James doesn't understand why people aren't upset at him because of citation issues, he doesn't understand that it's not the fact that he's using the 'Final Girl' trope... it's the fact that he stated the book as a favorite of his and then... suddenly he's writing a movie about the aftermath of the Final Girl. And given the plagiarism, it can not be taken in good faith.

First off, if you just google 'First Final Girl', it just says Texas Chainsaw Massacre is one of the earliest examples. Another possibility for the 'First Final Girl' was actually Black Christmas which was released the same day in Canada so it is literally tied.

Secondly; the final girl trope is not required for slasher movies. One of the first 'proto-slasher' movies was actually Psycho so there were a few good decades between that and Texas Chainsaw Massacre. (I could try and make a case that Lila Crane should count as a Final Girl; maybe even Mrs. Bates/Norman as a subversion... but I'm not that invested or interested.)

So... James was true to form, he just wanted to be a smug asshat and try and seem smart over something easily googled.

#James Somerton #*Face palm*

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yunhogosailing · 4 months ago

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So…you want to know more about Korean shipping terminology (and how does this apply to Ateez?)

Luckily, I have spent the better part of six years of my life learning Korean! Which fortunately(?) means that I have learned plenty about the lingo Korean BL fans use re: shipping dynamics. Actually, this makes it SO MUCH easier to navigate websites like Twitter, where NSFW posting is censored for security reasonable. The difference is that English speakers do not have an organized method of referring to the members in their ships (for example, one user might write seongjoong as secngjccng where one might instead write sxxngjxxng, and where another one might even write sngjng, etc etc). But how do Korean speakers handle this situation? What is the context behind all of this? I will provide with you with a fun and easy chart at the end, but first….Let me explain:

Taking you back to the early 2000s

Our setting: the early Korean BL online forums. The terminology originating from these spaces were unsurprisingly heavily influenced by the original sources from which BL manga was derived: the Japanese language. Japanese has a system of Chinese characters used to simplify the writing process known as Kanji. Korean has a similar concept, known as Hanja. Where as Kanji is still heavily utilized to this day for a variety of reasons (my Japanese teacher would always say its main purpose is to minimize the amount of script needed to convey an idea), Hanja has largely fallen out of fashion—used primarily to clarify homophones in text, in literature such as novels and older writings, and as a stylistic choice to depict words such as Death and God, etc.

First, I’m going to give you some terms that are familiar to quite possibly all of you.

Seme (攻め) - the dominant figure in the relationship. Most often, this person will also be depicted as the top.

Uke (受け) - the submissive figure in the relationship. Most often, this person will also be depicted as the bottom.

Are you following so far? Great! In the most stereotypical depiction of homosexual relationships in Manhwa, these roles—the dom top and the sub bottom—reigned supreme so much so that eventually the community fell into the pitfall of believing these four terms to be interchangeable. While simplifying the process of understanding each person’s role in sexual intimacy, it also didn’t lend much of an allowance to explore ideas that defined this view of sexuality. This lack of nuance and flexibility has very little to do with why I’m writing today, but I do want to give some more context as to why these terms became such reliable shorthand.

Anyway…

In Korean BL spaces, these Kanji symbols (攻/受) were directly translated into 공 and 수, respectively. 공 literally means “Ball” but in the context of the Hanja, it means “attack” or “strong”, basically dominant top. 수—“Number”—“to submit” or “to receive”—submissive bottom. Don’t worry, this is the absolute last time I will be explaining these ideas.

How does this work in Korean BL spaces?

Now this may also be familiar to many of you: the placement of each figure in the ship name MATTERS! In SFW spaces, you can get away with referring to Yunho and Mingi as Yungi because….well….platonic friendships aren’t normally referred to by dominance dynamics. In NSFW spaces, specifically dealing with fictional depictions of gay sex, referring to Yunho and Mingi as YunGi will have most people assuming that you mean fanfictions in which Yunho is the top and Mingi is the bottom. Oh, you didn’t? Well, obviously you meant to say MinYun (or MingYun or MingHo, I’ve seen this written all kinds of ways tbh). See what I mean? Now this isn’t always the case—familiarity is everything, so it’s not uncommon to see Wooyoung and San referenced as WooSan, no matter who is intended to be the top.

In Korean, ship names are almost always written in order of placement. For example, 윤낫 (we will get into why the Hangul in San’s name is reversed later) would refer to a Yunho x San pairing where Yunho is the top and San is the bottom. Likewise, 낫윤 would imply the exact opposite. Anyone want to take a stab at what 밍웡 means? How about 섷쫑?

2010-2024, A minor shift in focus

As the spaces for these conversations grow and change with time, as did the terminology used to describe shipping dynamics and pairings.

If you are a fourth and fifth gen K-pop stan, you know what a coupling, or chemi, name is. Korean fans who did either did not want to discuss their idols in a romantic/sexual manner, or otherwise wanted some way to differentiate a typical shipping name from a platonic pairing name, developed the concept of using a chemi name instead. For Ateez, these would be:

E-Kang-Mo (에강모) / Yunho and Yeosang - the shortened version of 에이티즈 강아지 모임, literally translating into the Gathering of Ateez Puppies.

Matz (맏즈) / Seonghwa and Hongjoong - TWO MEN WE’RE ON FIRE 위험해‼️‼️‼️ Shortened version of 맏형 which literally translates into Oldest brothers. This quite obviously refers to our two oldest members within the group.

Elsewhere, you may come across 삼복즈, Jiwoong and Yujin from ZEROBASEONE. Or 채채즈, Chaewon and Eunchae from LE SSERAFIM. Usually this name is derived from some personality aspect or moment the two idols share, and can be given organically by fans or by the idols themselves. They are used strictly by both Korean and international fans as a means of referring to these idols and their friendships. It’s still possible that you find a fan who skips the whole “having to learn a completely different unit name” thing and just uses the traditional pairing name (I know, because I’m one of them), and in this case you can likely tell exactly when they first got into K-pop.

During this decade, shippers developed two more terms to further break down sexual dynamics, this time focusing on top/bottom. 왼 is the Korean directional word for “left”, and in the context of BL, means top. For bottom, Koreans use a shortened version of the directional word for “right”—른. I am not entirely sure whether the general consensus seems to be that these terms are still strictly tied to the idea of a dominant top and a submissive bottom, as most of the resources I used to search for these terms waffled on the subject.

In practice, 웡왼 will refer to shippings in which Wooyoung is a top (I searched for this on Twitter and came up unsurprisingly short….) and 쫑른 is in reference to shippings where Jongho is a bottom!

Enough Already!! Just give us the tags!!

Loud and clear, boss. However, I just need a bit more contextual information out there before I finally get into the list:

Variations - there are few variations that exist within the Korean shipping fandom, save for instances in which another pairing could possibly exist within a different group.

Censorship - Korean fans are also heavy on making sure these posts do not make it into the hands of Ateez themselves (see: the chaos that happened when San stumbled across self-insert fiction written by K-Atiny). Member names are not written properly, and will always be altered in some way as a means of masking it from normal search results. Please pay attention to this!

Pronunciation - some letters are altered in the pairing names as a means to aid with pronunciation. This is sort of an intuitive thing with Korean, so I’m not sure how to explain this in a better way.

And now…the list!

Here’s how to follow the chart:

Reading from the top down, you will find the 른—or pairings where the member is the bottom. For example, Seonghwa’s column reads:

홍섷 - Hongjoong x Seonghwa

윤섷 - Yunho x Seonghwa

솽섷 - Yeosang x Seonghwa

낫섷 - San x Seonghwa

밍섷 - Mingi x Seonghwa

웡섷 - Wooyoung x Seonghwa

쫑섷 - Jongho x Seonghwa

Likewise, reading the chart horizontally will provide you with the 왼—or pairings where the member is the top. For example, Mingi’s row reads:

밍섷 - Mingi x Seonghwa

솜몽 - Mingi x Hongjoong

밍윦 - Mingi x Yunho

솜여 - Mingi x Yeosang

밍낫 - Mingi x San

밍웡 - Mingi x Wooyoung

솜쫑 - Mingi x Jongho

Additionally, adding (Member name)른/왼 will provide you more general posts where Korean fans are discussing the idol as a top or a bottom in general without referring to a specific ship.

Hongjoong: 홍왼 + 홍른

Seonghwa: 섷왼 + 섷른

Yunho: 윦왼/윤왼 + 윦른/윤른

Yeosang: 솽왼 + 솽른

San: 낫왼 + 낫른

Mingi: 밍왼 + 밍른

Wooyoung: 웡왼 + 웡른

Jongho: 쫑왼 + 쫑른

Thank you for reading! I hope this was as useful for you as it was for me! Of course, I knew a lot of history regarding this topic due to the ample time I spent reading BL, but I will admit that I did not have much time to research this topic specifically. However, if you have any corrections to make, let me know!! This was so much fun for write, and maybe I can do something similar to this in the future as well.

Bye!

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s-4pphics · 2 years ago

Text

its christmas morning! (e.w)

omg y’all it’s fucking 4/20 aka my thanksgiving christmas and valentine’s day😳

wanted to write for my fav pothead for my fav holiday :O ellie ripping bongs has been imprinted on my brain since that scene in the game yall know which one i’m talking about i don't even gotta say it🙄 i am very high rn so if there’s a typo or mistake no!! there’s!! not!! love y’all bye

wc;cw: 2.7k, oc n ellie r both in college, WEED!!! WEED WEED WEED!!!, 21 savage :p catch it, sexual tension y’all know how i get down, descriptions of sex MDNIIII, dubcon(they’re very high), ellie’s so cute but also a lil mean, hair pulling ;D

“c’moooon dude, just one hit!” ellie said with a wide grin while softly nudging your shoulder with hers, her packed and filled miniature glass bong and lighter sitting on the coffee table in front of the two of you.

ellie had sent you a text message after you got out of your last class saying it was her favorite fucking holiday so get ur ass over here! you knew she would hate it if you—her main smoking buddy—missed out on the new bud she got from someone on campus, so you packed an overnight bag with four of your own blunts that you rolled for her(you learned that tropical breeze was her favorite flavored wrap during one of your seshes!), and made your way over to her off-campus apartment complex. you knew there was no way you were going to be able to walk home tonight since you planned to get as fried as humanly possible.

you’d arrived inside her building and scaled the stairs to the third floor before you banged on her door. fuck, you were winded! what’s up with the elevators not working—

a muffled what’s the password?! had come from the other side of the door as you gasped for air.

“stop playing games, i’m tired!”

you’d heard her laugh as the door swung open, revealing an already high, smiling ellie: you were immediately hit with the smell of the weed she’d apparently already smoked. she looked so cozy, her black hoodie and gray sweatpants littered her body, her hair in a loose ponytail. you looked down at her giant frog slippers before she broke the silence between you two.

“it’s christmas morning! welcome to my trap house!” she’d excitedly squealed out, gesturing for you to come in.

she guided you to her and her roommate’s living room couch as she lit one of the blunts you rolled (and then another one) for you both to share. you felt relaxed after smoking them down, but you told her you needed more, and she was more than willing to give you that. she’d ran to her bedroom and grabbed her trusted friend, as she called the smoking utensil.

“i’ve never used one of those before.”

“…are you fuckin’ serious?” ellie asked with wide, red tinted eyes.

“um, yeah. why would i lie?” you asked blankly.

“that’s not what i meant, you smoke pretty often so i assumed. my bad.” she put her hands up in defense at your tone.

“you don’t need to apologize,” you said before pausing to look at the bong. it was pretty: it was clear, but there were hints of blue further down the base. it reminds you of the ocean. you stared at it before breaking the silence.

“what does it feel like?”

“what? hitting it?” she asked as she nodded towards the bong on the table.

you nodded at her, and she shrugged before sarcastically answering.

“it feels like you're smoking,” she said with dramatic jazz hands.

you pushed her as she laughed, “obviously, bitch! i mean when you're high. people always talk about it hitting way harder than any other pipe.”

“because it does! you choke hard as fuck if the rip is big but it feels good afterwards. you smoke, you know what i’m talking about. it’s… the peak is just more… intense with bongs? i guess, i don’t know. i can only take like…three or four good hits, not gonna lie.”

you nodded as you listened to her rambles. ellie’s tolerance was definitely higher than yours, but you could hang—which was one of the main reasons she liked to smoke with you. you always felt nervous to hit from a bong because of all of your friends' horror stories. you heard so many variations of how hard they greened out the first couple of times they did it, and though you’d never admit it to anyone, their experiences freaked you out. you always smoked weed to relax and sleep, not see god.

“…hm.”

“what?” ellie smirked at you when she heard your acknowledgement.

you were looking at the bong intensely as you imagined what your high would be like if you were to smoke out of one: you’d be so embarrassed if ellie was forced to talk you down from a bad trip because you didn’t know your limits. but the mention of its intensity intrigued you. how intense would it be? would you be able to move? think?

“you wanna hit it and see what happens?”

her quiet voice caught your attention. you looked to your right and… oh. she was really close to you. when did she get so close?

“…yeah.”

you were now sitting criss crossed on the couch as ellie faced you, packed, water-filled bong and lighter in hand.

“hitting is pretty easy, but your throat burns like crazy. this is my smallest one, but… yeah, it might choke you.”

“‘s fine.”

she hummed in acknowledgment before she said, “i’ll go first just so you can see.”

you nodded as you watched her put her lips at the opening of the tube. she lit her lighter and circled her flame around the bud-stocked bowl, igniting the flower as smoke slowly began to fill the base of the bong.

when she was satisfied with the rip, she detached the bowl from the stem and sucked in the smoke, exhaling a large cloud away from your face. she cleared her throat as she passed it to you, “see? easy.”

you took the bong and lighter from her hands and inspected it. you heard her snort from in front of you, meeting her eyes as you looked up. “it’s not gonna bite you, dude.”

“i fucking know that,” you said with a soft glare, making her laugh harder.

she reached over towards the coffee table and grabbed the small baggie of your rolled blunts. she took one out and grabbed another lighter out of her hoodie pocket, lighting the end and puffed on it to ignite the weed. she hadn’t noticed that you’d been watching her the whole time with an intense gaze.

she finally looked up at you and nodded at your occupied hands. “you gonna hit it?”

fuck. yeah, you were. you were. you nodded hard. she mumbled out a soft you don’t have to, but you shook your head at her, yes, you do!

you brought the opening towards your lips and looked at her for approval, earning a small nod as she exhaled her own smoke and smiling, “carry on, young pupil.”

you lightly kicked your knee against hers, earning a soft laugh. you took a deep breath before igniting the bowl and watched smoke fill the base. you weren’t sure how long you should wait before you took a rip, so you met her eyes again, awaiting instruction.

“you don’t need to smoke all of that. ‘s a lot.” she advised, slurring slightly, smoke pooling out of her nose as she spoke. you didn’t listen, though.

you removed the bowl as she did, and sucked in all of it. you breathed out and instantly started coughing up both of your lungs as she laughed, grabbing you a water from the table, opening it, and passing it to you. you dropped the lighter and exchanged the large pipe for the water in her hand. “fuckin’ idiot, i told you not to.”

you choked harder as tears flooded your eyes, but even in your time of weakness, you flipped her off. she giggled before pretending to bite it off.

as your coughing eased, you slowly sipped from your bottle and wiped the tears off your cheeks. “bro, what the fuck.” you said dryly, sipping more water.

she laughed hard at you as she lit and ripped from the bong again.

some time passed and you were starting to feel… something different as you came up. you knew you were going to peak soon, but the lift was coming in much harder. much faster. it was making you a bit antsy.

ellie must’ve noticed your unfocused looks around her living room because she aligned her eyes with yours and whispered out a hey.

“hi… i think i feel… feel it,” you whispered back, a slight shakiness to your voice.

“okay. want me to turn some music on?” and you nodded before she could even finish her gentle proposal. you watched her every move as she got up and swiftly made her way over to the kitchen, turning on her speaker. “what you wanna listen to?”

“g-glock in my lap.”

“everywhere i’m strapped,” she said as she mimed jerking off with her tongue out. she's so gross… why was it getting you hot?

she busted out laughing at her own joke before she played it, queueing her own list of songs before returning back to the couch to get in her previous position.

“what’s your craziest weed story?” you asked the minute she sat down, cutting mumbling of the lyrics off.

“craziest weed story?” she asked softly as she reignited her stubbed out blunt.

“bong story. craziest bong story,” you corrected yourself slurrily. oh, this shit was hitting.

she huffed out a laugh before talking. “…i don’t know if you wanna hear that right now.”

“why? was it that bad?”

“it was the exact opposite actually.” she corrected softly. had she leaned a bit closer to you? you couldn’t tell.

“one of the best highs of my life, to be honest. wish i could go back to that day and just to feel it again.”

“what happened?”

she was silent for a moment, looking into your eyes with an intense gaze.

“i… i met this girl on hinge— don’t fucking laugh!” she said as she smiled.

it made you laugh harder. “i’m not—i’m not trying to, i promise!”

she rolled her eyes as she continued. “anyway, we linked up after talking for a bit, and she told me she wanted to match. i drove hours to see her, she was so fuckin’ hot.”

you hummed as she continued, giggles completely forgotten as your vision tunneled in on her. “so, we meet and we go up to her room. i think… her roommate had company over or something, it was really noisy when i walked in. anyway, we spark up, we’re smoking, and she’s just like hit my bong with me!, and i said sure.”

you’d been watching her lips move the entire time she was talking. she’d been biting and licking them as she reminisced while hitting the blunt, and it was making your body hot.

“she hit it first and passed it to me, and i’m like… what the fuck do i do with this contraption? like, you have to understand that it wasn’t a bong like mine. it was wide and long as fuck and the rips were huge. anyway, she showed me but… she was so close to me. like this.”

she leaned closer to you, your noses almost touching. your breathing picked up. “she was just talking me through the first hit, light this, pull that, y’know.”

to be frank, you didn’t give a shit about this story at all, but you would listen to it over and over again if it meant she’d be this close to your face—

“and sex while high feels so fucking good—“

“huh?”

“what?”

“who had sex while high?”

“… me‘n my hinge date.”

she squinted her eyes at you before she grinned. “were you listening?”

“yup.”

“right.” she said as she cheesed.

there was silence as you both looked at each other, but she inched a little closer to you and whispered. “wanna know a secret?”

you nodded instantly. anything anything—

“she made me cum really hard after i hit her bong, like i went completely brain dead.”

and you sucked in a sharp breath at her little secret before saying, “i’m sure…”

“you’re sure?”

“yeah.”

she nodded at you, passing you the blunt she'd been nursing before she scooted back to reach for her bong and lighter off the table. she hit it again and you watched. you watched her so closely.

“what’d she do?” you asked as you took a bold hit before stubbing it out on the ashtray on the table.

“who? m’date?” she asked as she blew another cloud away from you.

you nodded much harder than you should’ve, but you were so curious.

she smiled at you before elaborating, “so… i hit it, i’m choking hard as fuck, but she’s handing me water and rubbing my back and all of that shit.”

“i finally calmed down, and we both laid down on her bed, we’re like… facing each other,” she explained, trying to demonstrate their movements through her occupied hands.

remember when you said you didn’t give a shit about this story? you did. you really did.

“she just starts… rubbing on my arm and stuff. like barely, but i feel it, and i start relaxing. like… it feels like i’m sinking into her bed. she starts telling me how cute i am and whatever and then… she just kisses me. it’s real cute at first,” she said with a gentle grin.

“but she… she grabs my hips and pulls me closer… i can’t even remember what happened but i end up on my back and she’s eating me out and fingering me,” she’d been looking off into the distance throughout the whole story, but reconnects her eyes with yours, and they slowly drift down to your lips and you want to kiss her so fucking bad—

“when i came, i kinda just… blacked out, i felt like my brain was gonna come out my ears…like, in a puddle or somethin’ crazy,” she had the audacity to giggle at her statement. she didn’t even care about how wet her story just made you, how rude!

“…but yeah,” she mumbled and nodded, suddenly averting her gaze from your mouth. she leaned towards the bong in her hand, lighting and ripping from it again.

instead of politely blowing the smoke away from your face like she’d been doing, she held eye contact and blew the cloud towards you, and you breathed it in like you wished to breathe her in. she reached to the side to place the pipe and lighter back on her table and looked down at your twitching hands before she asked, “you okay?”

you nodded slowly and dazed, slowly blinking at her, and she smirked as she leaned closer to you again. this was the closest she’s been to your face, and all you could do was study her. memorize every detail on her face. she's so, so pretty.

“ellie.”

“yeah?” she breathed out and you barely heard it.

“kiss me.” you replied just as quietly.

she licked her lips again as she looked down at yours. you were nearly panting like a dog and you could tell she was getting off to your desperation by the smirk on her face.

you leaned closer to her in attempts to close the distance, but ellie moved away before you could.

so you tried again.

and she moved away again. and then she leaned back onto her propped elbows, one of her knees bent up.

“c’mere.”

you moved before you could think, shifting onto your wobbly knees to crawl on top of her, your hands on either side of her head as she straightened her legs out so you could straddle her waist.

you felt her warm hands grab your hips to squeeze them. you placed your weight on both your elbows and leaned down so you could finally kiss her. you want a kiss! you want a kiss now!

your head was yanked back before you could connect your lips to hers, and you let out a shocked, wet gasp as you grinded down on her impulsively. you want more more more—

she snorted at your reaction before bringing her mouth up to your ear to whisper, “i want another hit.”

her hand loosened in your hair as you watched her laugh at you with her head thrown back, a shocked expression on your face. no way she just played you like that!

“fuck you,” you said with an embarrassed pout as you sat up and moved off her lap, sitting the farthest away from her as you could.

“i know you want to, hand me that lighter,” she said, nodding her head towards the table while giggling.

you grabbed and threw it at her chest, making her laugh louder.

hahaaaa i gotchu yall thought they were gonna fuck? SIKE but omg yall make sure to get high byeee

#ellie williams blurb #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #pothead!ellie #lesbian #modern!ellie williams #modern!eddie x reader #works 𖧧࣪

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