#I guess I only actually mentioned four whiskies but in my heart it was five

[hanamiyama-basketball-club]

Spontaneously remembered that I actually wrote 28 year old depressed catman Rom downing his fifth whisky https://archiveofourown.org/works/43658661

[illfoandillfie]

Hangover Cure

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Summery: Ben is hungover from a night out with the boys and can’t fully remember what happened, luckily you’ve got some evidence.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of drinking, f receiving oral, squirting, face sitting,

Words: 4233

A/N: Small disclaimer: I don’t drink, I have never been drunk, all my knowledge of being drunk and hangovers and stuff comes from watching TV/movies (and maybe a little bit of googling). Anyway, that hangover photo Ben posted on insta destroyed me and I had to write something inspired by it! Ben gives off a vibe like he would fucking love going down on his girl, so have like 3k words of pussy worship  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

tagslist: @idontbelievethiss

When you woke up you were still pressed close to Ben, his bare leg flung over yours, almost nose to nose. You lay there for a while, blinking the sleep from your eyes, listening to his deep breaths, before the need to pee made you untangle yourself and leave the bed. Your mobile phone caught your eye as you got up, the screen lit up with a staggering number of voicemail messages. Ben had been out last night, catching up with the rest of ‘the band’ and, apparently, he had a problem with drinking and dialling. You’d already listened to a few of them before you fell asleep but he’d clearly continued phoning well into the early hours of the morning. The last was from a little after three o’clock which, by your estimation, wasn’t long before he’d arrived home. Clearly the boys had had a fun night, starting with dinner at around 6.30 PM and ending, for Ben at least, with waking you as he stumbled into your room and noisily removed his jeans and shoes, in that order. You’d turned on your lamp to see what was going on and his face broke into a grin when he saw you. “Y/N! What’re you doing here?” his speech was slurred and much too loud. “I live here Ben,” you said, sleepily rubbing your face, “with you.” You could almost see the gears in his head turning as he stared at you like he was trying to solve a riddle. “Just come to bed,” you yawned, tapping his side of the bed. He nodded and crawled under the blankets as you turned the lamp back off. His hands automatically reached for you, pulling you close as you lay back down and shut your eyes.  

Ben slept in past midday. You checked on him a couple of times, but he remained fast asleep and snoring. It wasn’t until you were walking past your room in the afternoon that you heard him groan. You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as Ben threw an arm over his eyes, face scrunched up against the light coming in through the window. “I take it you had a good night then,” You said as you padded across the room, pausing next to Ben and running your fingers through his messy hair. Ben let his arm fall back to his side and squinted up at you, “Maybe a little too good.” He groaned again, rubbing his temple. “Yeah, you smell like an ashtray that’s been washed out in whisky.” “I don’t even remember drinking whisky,” he groaned. “Stay here, I’ll be back with a hangover cure,” you chuckled, dropping a kiss to his forehead before you left. In the kitchen, you pulled out a tray and loaded it up with a glass of water, a couple of painkillers, two coffees and a stack of buttered toast. Entering your room, you found Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. “You okay, honey?” you asked as you placed the tray on the nearest nightstand. “Thought I was gonna throw up. False alarm.” “Take these,” you handed him the water and painkillers. “Thanks babe,” He mumbled before swallowing the pills. “D’you want a coffee?” “Please,” he said switching the glass for his mug, “I hope Joe’s head hurts twice as much as mine.” “What’d Joe do?” You grabbed your own mug and the plate of toast, carefully settling yourself cross-legged facing Ben, “Eat.” Ben obediently took the top piece of toast, pulling his legs up onto the bed and leaning against the footboard, “He was the one that suggested shots. I think.” Ben chewed his toast slowly. “Did I wake you when I got home?” “You don’t remember?” “Sort of. I remember tripping over something outside. And I think I remember talking to you.” “Yes,” you laughed, “You woke me. You seemed confused about why I was here, happy to see me though. How much do you remember from last night?” “I remember having dinner and I remember heading to the pub after. Things start to get a bit hazy after a few rounds though. Why? What’d I do?” “Nothing bad, honey. I’ll tell you about it when you’re feeling better.” He nodded, “Think I’ll go have a shower.”

You finished your coffee while scrolling on your phone, the shower audible in the otherwise quiet room, and then carried everything back to the kitchen. You were just setting the dishwasher to run when Ben came up behind you, throwing his arms around your stomach and leaning his chin on your shoulder.   “Better?” “More or less. Brushed my teeth about twelve times which helped.” You turned around to face him, “well you certainly don’t smell like a bar anymore. Any word on how the others are faring?” “Everyone’s alive though pretty rough. I don’t know what we drank, but it was a mistake.” “I might have the answer,” “What d’you mean?” “So, while you were out, I got a number of very interesting phone calls.” Ben gave you a confused look. “You drunk dialled me a few times. Seventeen times if we’re being accurate.” “Oh my god.” His hand flew up to his head, the heel of his palm rubbing his eye, “What did I say? No, actually I don’t wanna know. Okay, tell me.” You leaned up to peck his lips before grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the kitchen and over to the couch where you’d left your phone. “I haven’t listened to them all, just the first few.” He sat down, watching warily as you clicked through to your voicemail. “So the first call you made, I picked up.” You said as you settled into your seat, throwing your legs over Ben’s lap.   “What time was that?”   “Round ten-ish. I think you were in a pub. Wherever you were was loud cause I couldn’t hear you properly. But basically you called so everyone could yell hello to me. I told you all to have a good night and got a chorus on unintelligible screams back and then you hung up.” “Thats not too bad. Kinda cute if you think about it,” He pinched your shin playfully. “You called again about five minutes later but I let it go to voicemail.” “Oh boy.” “You’re a sloppy drunk Benjamin.”  

You held the phone up between you and hit play on the first message. Ben’s voice sounded echoey as he slurred slightly into the phone which made you think he was calling from the bathroom. “Voicemail? Babe listen, I didn’t mean to hang up without saying I love you. Thats why ‘m calling. Felt bad. I don’t want you to think I don’t love you cos of course I love you. God I love you so much. Shit, I gotta go, Joe’s saying something about shots.” The message ended. “Okay you have to agree that was cute,” Ben said next to you. “The drunk idiot is very cute.” You conceded.   “Hey, he may be a drunk idiot, but he’s a truthful drunk idiot.” Ben tapped the end of your nose making you giggle. “Well, the drunk idiot isn’t done yet.” You started the second message. “Fuck it’s cold.” You heard a deep inhale and then a breath out, the sound of Ben smoking, “I need whisky.” The call ended and both of you laughed.   “Well okay, guess maybe I did drink whisky after all.” The third message was loud again. The Ben sitting next to you cringed as the opening notes of a song kicked in and his own voice yelled through the phone, “This one’s for you Y/N!” followed by the sound of him drunkenly singing My Heart Will Go On. “Oh god,” He dropped his head into his hands, “how long does the message go for?” “Four minutes and forty-five seconds. The whole song.” “Let's skip this one,” “Okay, but only because I’ve already listened to it.” “You listened to me butcher the entire song?” “It was dedicated to me, how could I not?” you laughed, “Also, it’s my new ringtone.” “Curse that movie.” Ben groaned as he let his head drop onto the back of the couch, “You catch the end of it on TV one time and then the song’s stuck in your head for a week.” “If it's any consolation, it sounded like you got a standing ovation at the end.”

The next couple of messages were from the same karaoke bar. You could barely hear Ben over the horrendous singing in the background of the first one, but he seemed to be talking to someone about the saké they were drinking. You wondered if it hadn’t been a pocket dial because of how quiet his voice was.   Ben looked at you shaking his head, “No wonder we all feel like rubbish today. How did we all make it home in one piece?” “Lord knows. Divine intervention?” You laughed, “This next one is the last one I heard before I went to sleep.” “Good or bad?” “I liked it.” The message started with the sound of Ben stumbling out a door, muffling the noise of the bar. “Can’t stop thinking bout your pretty pussy.” You looked over to Ben, grinning at his slightly pink cheeks. He looked like he was about to say something but you quickly placed a finger over your lips, signalling him to keep quiet.   “Wanna lick it right now. Could go for hours, sucking and licking and kissing. Fuck I love your pussy. Taste so fucking good. Wanna make you cum on my tongue. And then on my fingers so you can suck 'em clean and see how good you taste. Go so slow yo-” “Ben!” someone yelled from behind him somewhere, “C’mon we’re gonna go get kebabs!” The message ended. You’d known what was coming and you’d still found yourself clenching your thighs, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ben. His hand was on your knee, rubbing his thumb in circles absentmindedly. “That...wasn’t what I was expecting,” he said slowly, “bit different to all the others,” “Wasn’t what I was expecting the first time I heard it either. Don’t think anyone’s ever expected to hear a monologue about eating pussy though. They just catch you by surprise.”   “How many times did you listen to it?” “Ummm, a few,” “So until you got off?” “You know me too well,” you laughed, “kinda wish you hadn't been interrupted. Would have liked to hear what else you were thinking.” “You would, would you?” His grip on your knee got tighter, “Think I’ve got the gist of it.” You squealed as he suddenly rolled out from under your legs and pushed them open.

“Thought you had a hangover,” “It’s not so bad now, modern medicine truly is a miracle. Besides, this may be a hereto unknown cure.” His speech was punctuated with kisses to your ankle. “Are you saying my pussy is like the fountain of youth but for fixing hangovers?” “Maybe. I don’t know. Now please stop talking, I need to concentrate.” He travelled higher, fingers tracing softly wherever his lips weren’t. He continued his path up your leg gradually, dragging his lips along your skin. Whenever he reached a particularly ticklish or sensitive spot he’d linger, holding your leg tight so you couldn’t squirm away. When he eventually reached your knee, he moved to your other ankle and started again. You whined, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch, which made him chuckle, sending a shiver through you. “Patience, babe.” He bit down unexpectedly, making you jump, “Told you I was gonna go slow.” Slow was an understatement. A snail would have crawled up your leg faster than Ben was going, though you had to admit it probably wouldn’t have put you in quite the same state. The longer Ben took the more desperate you were but nothing you did could persuade him to skip ahead. You tried whining and groaning, hoping the noise would encourage him to finally remove your pants, but all it did was make him smirk, his breath ghosting over the spot his lips had just detached from.   “Keep making those sounds. Love when you’re all desperate and needy.” You couldn’t stop the whine that rose into the air, his words hitting your right between the legs.

You also tried tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging the way you knew he liked but, though it did make him pause, it also made him more determined to make you wait. At one point you even tried to slip your hand into your pants to relieve some of the pressure. You didn’t get very far before Ben had a hold of your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before he sucked your fingers into his mouth. He let your fingers slip free, turning his attention back to your shin, but kept a strong grasp on your hand to stop you from trying anything else.   “You jerk,” you tried to twist your hand free but he kept a firm hold, “didn’t think you’d mean this slow.” He laughed, sitting up slightly as he finally reached your other knee, “What a shame my drunken ode to your cunt was cut off before I could really go into detail.”   “Ben, you’re killing me, please just speed it up.” “Sorry babe, not gonna happen. “ He continued his lazy path over your knee and up your thigh until he reached the leg of your shorts, teasing you with feather light touches just under the hem. Then he switched back to the leg he’d started on and repeated his efforts. By the time he was kneeling between your legs, working your pants over your hips and pulling them off, you were on the verge of begging. You lifted your hips to help him remove your underwear but he ignored you. Instead you felt a breath on the inside of your thigh before his mouth was on you again. He resumed his slow pace, pausing every so often to suck a hickey onto your skin, before he switched to the other leg again. By the time he was done your thighs were covered in bruises and bite marks, and there was a very noticeable wet spot on the front of your undies.  

Ben leaned into you, his mouth centimetres from where you desperately needed him. You could feel bursts of his warm breath wash over you, only serving to heighten your need and the anticipation for what he had planned. “So very wet already. Wonder who could possibly have cause that?” You could only whimper as he stuck his tongue out and licked a single long stroke along your clothed pussy, your hips bucking at first contact. “Love how eager you are, but you gotta keep still,” he said as he wrapped his arms round your thighs to hold them in place. He refocused on kissing you through your underwear, working his way up slowly, squeezing your labia between his lips. Your breathing got heavier the closer he got to your clit, soft ‘oh’s dripping from your tongue. He was unphased by your obvious urgent need, working to cover every inch of you with his lips and teeth and tongue, leaving you panting for more as he carefully avoided your clit. When he gently sucked at the apex of your thigh you cried out in desperation. Ben hummed against you and settled back into his leisurely pace, never reaching your clit. “Ben, for the love of god, stop teasing,” Ben laughed as he raised himself to his knees and hooked his fingers into the top of your underpants, pausing to drop a kiss to your lips. He peeled your underwear down your legs, dropping them to the floor, and swiped a finger along your folds, collecting your wetness. He held his finger up and you watched as your juices slowly started to drip from it in a single long strand. “That voicemail,” Ben started, pausing to lick up the drip from his finger, “was cut off too soon. Didn’t even get to talk about how fucking wet you are for me. Though I think I can make you wetter.” He settled himself back down, laying his tongue flat against you and licking another long line all the way up your slit. You moaned as his tongue flicked over your clit but seconds later, he’d moved away again, letting a string of saliva drip slowly onto you before he began working his mouth softly over your pussy once more.  

You could feel your orgasm approaching as Ben buried his face between your legs, and you tangled your fingers in his hair again. You whined his name repeatedly, getting higher in pitch as he neared your clit. Finally he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and you let out a pornographic moan as you came undone. He swirled his tongue around your clit until the sensitivity became too much and you pushed him away. “Good girl,” He said softly, leaving kisses over your thighs as he waited for your breathing to even out again, “So pretty when you cum for me.” He began licking and sucking at your folds again, noisily cleaning up the evidence of your orgasm, “And drunk me was right, you taste fucking incredible.” He worked his tongue slowly into you, making you shudder as you felt another orgasm building already. He pulled out, licking all the way up to your clit before once again pushing his tongue into you, deeper than before. You lost the ability to form coherent thoughts as he fucked you with his tongue, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit slowly. Your knees snapped shut the minute he stopped holding them down, trapping him in position, though he didn’t seem to notice, just kept his steady pace, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. A moan built in your throat and you couldn’t help pushing on the back of his head, trying to keep him as close to your core as possible. You pulled on his hair making him moan against you and the vibrations triggered your release which he lapped up like a man dying of thirst. Your legs trembled as you lowered them back to the bed, not helped by Ben moving to blow a stream of cold air over your sensitive clit.

You tried to sit up but Ben placed a hand over your stomach to keep you in place. “I’m not done yet, enjoying this too much to be done so soon.” He flicked your clit with his tongue and you whimpered. “Too sensitive?” “Yeah,” You breathed out, raising you head to watch him. “That’s alright,” he kissed your clit once, making your hips jerk, “said I wanted you to cum on my fingers anyway.” Without any more warning he pushed two fingers into you making you moan, “That’s right babe, wanna hear you nice and loud,” he added a third finger, and began pumping them in and out teasingly slow, “Know you love having my fingers in your cunt. Can feel how tight your clenching them. ‘m gonna watch you cum hard and then I’m gonna go back to worshipping your cunt properly.” He adjusted the angle of his fingers slightly, and you felt the pit in your stomach tighten. “Think I can make you squirt like this, want me to try?” “Please, yes, ‘m so clos-s-se,” you were interrupted as he once again lowered his mouth to your cunt, his fingers steadily stroking the same spot over and over, making your see spots. “C’mon babe,” he mumbled against you, “wanna see you make a fucking mess.” Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers became more forceful and you gripped the edge of the couch so hard your knuckles turned white as you came again.   “Good girl, that was exactly what I wanted to see,” He said, sitting up on his knees, rubbing your thigh with the hand that hadn’t just been pulled from you. “I did it?” you panted, finally relaxing your hand, letting it dangle over the edge of the couch. “mmhmm, gonna have to get some stain remover onto this couch later.” You raised your head and sure enough you could see the dark patch you’d made. You couldn’t help but laugh, giddy from the pleasure. Ben wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he leaned forward to kiss you softly. “I love you so much,” “Love you too Ben. Maybe more now that I know you can make me do that.” He kissed you again and then resettled between your thighs. “Thought you said something about letting me taste?” “Later,” he grunted before he focused all his attention on dragging his tongue through your slick folds again.

“You’re dripping,” Ben admired, taking another swipe along your cunt, “So fucking wet.” Not that you needed him to tell you that. You could feel your wetness running down towards your arse, see it shining on Ben’s mouth and chin every time he looked up at you. Aside from Ben’s running commentary the only sounds in the room came from him burying himself in your pussy. The wet noises of his spit meeting your juices as he licked and sucked at you, and the whines and whimpers and moans he drew from you with every flick of his tongue. You were so wet his tongue just glided over you, hitting your still sensitive clit on every pass. It felt so good, but also wasn’t enough to push you to another orgasm. You tried to shift your hips against his mouth as his movements became less controlled. He devoured you, trying to reach every inch of your cunt, not caring about keeping a steady pace or tempo. You swore as his nose bumped your clit again, followed a moment later by his tongue flicking over it once, twice, three times.   “Ben, I can’t do it again.” you whined, fighting back the urge to cry, “I wanna cum but I can’t.” Ben just hummed against you, ignoring your pleas as he continued his frenzied movements. You could feel tears of desperation stinging your eyes. You were so close, just not getting the right sort of friction to push you over the edge. You tried to wiggle your hips but Ben wrapped his arms round your thighs again, holding you in place as he closed his eyes, and delved deeper. You could have sworn you were going to cum as Ben explored every inch of your pussy, but you were left unsatisfied again, letting out another frustrated whine. Ben resurfaced, shaking his head from side to side as he trailed his tongue over you. “Don’t worry, babe, got an idea.” He pulled back and moved to grab your waist, using his grip to flip you over suddenly. He wiggled between your open legs and grabbed your thighs again. You leaned against the arm of the chair, resting on your knees as Ben pulled you down onto his lips, picking up where he’d left off. You clawed at the couch as he held you tightly, anchoring you to his mouth. The new position allowed you to arch your back and rock your hips more freely and you shifted around a little trying to find the right spot. You cried out as his tongue met you just the way you’d needed it, and began to grind down onto him chasing your release. “God Ben, so so close,” you gasped out. Ben’s reply was nothing more than a muffled hum directly into your core that had you slumping over the arm of the chair as you shook above him, crying out his name. He continued to lick along your slit, stretching the orgasm out as long as he could. When you couldn’t take it anymore you raised your hips, his hands loosening their grip as you rolled off of him into the corner of the couch. Once Ben had sat up, you gingerly stretched out a leg.

“So how was that?” Ben asked as he shuffled round to face you. All you could do was nod as you released a shaky breath. Ben scooted towards you and leaned his forehead against yours, “I take it that means it was good?” “Yeah,” you breathed out softly, “really good. I’ll tell you just how good when I can think clearly again.”   Ben laughed and dropped a kiss to the tip of your nose before pulling back, “take all the time you need. There is just one more thing though,” You gasped as he gently dragged a single finger through your folds, collecting as much of your wetness as he could. “Said I was gonna make you taste yourself.” Without thinking you grabbed his wrist and slowly sucked his finger into your mouth. You kept your eyes locked on his, watching as they grew wide at your bold action. “See how fucking delicious you are?”   You hummed around his finger, running your tongue along its length. When you felt you’d sufficiently cleaned his digit you pulled it from your lips with a small pop.   “Think I could get used to receiving drunk messages from you if this is how you make up for it,” “Think I wanna know what the rest of those messages say.”

[ihadalovelytime]

Face The Dawn | Josh Faraday/OC {1/?}

Summary: She left him. He couldn’t protect her.

Author: MeanderingNovember (Britta)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort (Angst)

Word Count: 1492

“Ivy, focus...”

The memory pushed through the surface of the whole murky creek of her. Joshua Faraday’s words whispering along her skin, slow, full of the melodious south and too much to drink when he taught her to fight one night. They were young and for all the perils of their wild, a smattering of constellations still lingered in their eyes. His hands comfortably hovering over his guns, his lady and his whore, seeking solace in dregs of whisky, keeping childlike in the tales of foxes and card tricks and magic. Back then, Ivy’s solace was the promise of unraveling him thread by thread.

“...you’ve gotta be quick.”

His large hand grazed her stomach, comforting and warm. His voice held a smirk as his nose brushed her ear, his lips moved against the nape of her neck as he lilted husky instructions. When his fingers brushed against her waist, Ivy giggled, missing her target entirely.

“Looks like you’ve just lost your gunfight, Ms. Ivy,” Faraday said, pleasure in his voice.

Ivy grinned, elbowing him in his stomach, “For good reason, Faraday. You know there’s no stronger rival ‘round these hills than me.”

He grunted, rubbing his stomach, eying Ivy curiously as she turned to face him.

“Why are we doing this anyway? You know I never much appreciated the sight of you with a gun in your hand, darlin’.”

Ivy cleared her throat, “Well, with your sensibilities taking you wherever you hear howling over the mountains, it’s best I know something of how to take care of myself....And I wager you liked the sight of Hilly with a pistol in her hands.”

He frowned, “What are you talking about, Ivy?”

“We both know you’re not the settling kind, Faraday.”

“Nonsense, I’ve been here for...a while.”

“A month and a few days if that. I’m feeling it’s ‘bout that time you start itching for somethin’ new.”

A secret smile appeared on his face as he stalked over to her, “You countin’?”

Ivy glanced up at him for a moment, a soft look on her face, before cocking her pistol, aiming at the scarecrow a few feet ahead, and pulling the trigger. Smoke curled from the mouth of her pistol after the bullet pierced the scarecrow’s straw heart. Pleased with her work, Ivy kneeled to retrieve her carpet bag and banjo from the dirt path.

“I got you somethin’.”

Ivy’s mouth curved, “I don’t wanna see a magic trick, Faraday.”

“Ivy, I’m offended.  You’ll get a real hoot out of this one...pick a card.”

Ivy’s head rolled back on her shoulders, “How many years are we gonna do this? You never get my card.”

He looked down at his deck, shuffling them haphazardly. Ivy cocked her head in observance of his tense shoulders, the uncommon tinge of blush along his cheeks.

“I always get One Eyed Jacks’ card.”

“Guess I’m not as exciting to you as a one eyed jack,” Ivy smirked, making to  walk around him.

His hand shot out to grasp hers, “Please? I’m your oldest associate, surely you can grant me a moment of your time.”

Ivy grazed his thumb before taking the deck of cards out of his hand, and slipping one out of its soft worn middle.

Two of clubs.

“Commit it to memory, and slip it back into the deck.”

Ivy sighed theatrically before sliding it back into the deck, watching his fingers play those cards like his own fiddle or a woman he bed last night.

She gulped at the tangled turn of her thoughts.

Finally, he pulled a card from the bottom of the deck, “ A la your card!”

“Reckon’ not, no,” Ivy smiled.

“No? Okay,” he pulls another, “Your card!”

Ivy shook her head slowly.

He pulled another, “This one has to be your card!”

Ivy burst out laughing, and whatever smart retort he seemed to have for her faded into the evening breeze. He stared back at her with such a look as she had never seen trained on her before.

“All right,” he said huskily. “ One. Last. Try. Take my hand, please.”

Ivy complied. The feeling of his index finger grazing the center of her palm made her close her eyes and pocket the feeling of his fingers on her. His hand closed over hers, and when he let go, he left a card and a necklace.

The Queen of Hearts.

Ivy raised the delicate chain to the moonlight. It was an old brass locket, small and oval with a slip of embroidered blush colored wild flowers affixed to the top.

“Oh Joshua...”

He smiled out at the pasture land around them, “I got to thinkin’ that the next time I set out, it’d be nice to have some company.”

Ivy looked down at the locket now tucked in her fist, before settling on him, “Where’s all this comin’ from?”

He bent low to look her directly in the eyes, “Well, you’re certainly better company than all the One Eyed Jacks that come my way, don’t you think?”

“Joshua...well I should certainly hope so, I --“

He looked away from her, “Have you caught the eye of any of the gents ‘round here while I was gone?”

“There is one---“

“We’ve been our only companions since we were children. I reckon we could trail up that mountain up yonder, just keep on going, Ivy.”

Ivy’s heart pounded in her chest, her stature erect as she stepped closer to him. “Well that’s mighty convienient of you, to make a proposition on the heels of another man. That put the fire under your ass, Faraday, to know somone else might want me?”

“Do I need to introduce someone to Ethel and Maria, ‘Cause I have no problem doing so---“ His voice carried the same light tone, but his hands now wrapped around her forearms tightened in warning.

“I need you to be absolutely clear in what you’re askin’ me, that’ll help me to decide whether or not Cyrus’ offer’s still an option,” she said, keeping her eyes sternly focused on his chest.

His hands drifted to her waist and pulled her closer, “Remember our fires in the mountains? All those stars glitterin’ up there, all stubborn like you get when I try to boss you? All the hell we used to raise ‘round noon time? When we had all these high plans since we were children? I still want all those things, only now they’ll all end with you soft and warm under moonlight calling my name when I love you...I’m only Joshua with you, Darlin’.  And you won’t need to keep learning to shoot because I’ll take care of it. I’ll keep you safe, and I’ll need you at night when the ghosts come.”

That last was muttered so quietly she questioned it.

“The nightmares never go away, darlin’, and I’d do anything to keep you from knowing that.  Remembering your night songs have been the only thing to bring me back, and these curls” A soft smiled formed as he gazed down at her, and raised his hand to tug playfully at one of her curls. “I need you to trust me again.”

Ivy rubbed the spot over his heart thumping erratically, and betraying the usually smooth Faraday he sauntered with.

“You want to be my Joshua, and you want us to chase the stars in the mountains, and fish, and make love under moonlight, and keep each other safe,” Ivy mused.

“Your card was Two of clubs,” he smirked.

For a moment, it was as if all that life had of made him, a fox outsmarting the world, fell away. He looked like the boy she met in the woods when she had a hard time hunting that nights meal, and he had already made his fire, keeping warm, doing what ever magic he could to make her crack a smile. Two orphaned fools.

Ivy’s lips trembled as she slid her hand around the nape of his neck, pulled him closer, and kissed his forehead like she used to during the worst of his nightmares.

His fingers contracted around her shoulders, he whispered her name, and proceeded to kiss away all hesitance caused by time apart.

_____________

Pushing the memory deep deep down into the far depths of her, Ivy fired at the copse of willows in front of her, their leaves hanging limp in the humid night air. X marked her target with each bit of steel.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

The months between she and Faraday.

Bogue would arrive with his band of demons any day now, and the nagging pain roving up her back as she moved...the hollow in the pit of her stomach made it impossible for her not to pick up her gun and give him a proper welcome to Rose Creek. 

Ivy didn’t give a damn what Faraday thought of the matter.

She left him.

He couldn’t protect her.

To Be Continued

_________

Thank you so much for reading this! I really hope you enjoyed reading it. I’ve been a Chris Pratt fan for a while now, and there’s just something about Faraday that I have a soft spot for. Since I didn’t see very many Faraday/OC ships in the fandom, I thought I’d make one with all of the hurt/comfort and angst goodness I could stomach! 

This might be a bit on the heavy side as I wanted to write a heroine who endured a great deal and who had actual stakes in this war with Bogue. I have written a bit more of this story, in hopes that it may become a full length story, but we shall see!

Hold Me (Alternate Version) by The Sweeplings inspired the title of this story, and I listened to a lot of First Aid Kit, one being The Song: “In The Morning” really takes me there! When there is any mention of Ivy singing in this story, her voice was inspired by these kinds of songs.