#also. can we talk about the elephant on the room.

[lloydfrontera]

the webtoon may have left out a lot of things but they did yassify the orcs which is the funniest thing to me right now

*sigh* they did yassify the orcs <3

now i want to see what they'll do with the sirens and whether i should be excited or worried lmao

[hyunpic]

[envolvenuances]

always fascinating to see the "biology or socialisation?" question cause controversy on the feminist bubble of the internet, especially when it reaches the 'otherwise feminism would be hopeless' line of thinking. because this is what the original critique by marxfems of some radical feminist theory as "biological determinist" and/or "vulgar materialism" was about before neoliberals appropiated and distorted it.

one of the reasons why by now I can identify at least three distinct praxis opperating under 'radical feminism'

[lususnatura]

🎤 🎤 🎤

a song that i associate with my muse meme!

AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3

hozier - who we are.

icehouse - crazy.

depeche mode - personal jesus.

[tofixtheshadows]

Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are

Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.

So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.

I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.

Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.

And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).

The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).

What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.

And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.

Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.

It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.

I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.

Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.

If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.

Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.

The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?

And she tries again in bed.

Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.

With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.

Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.

And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.

Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.

[mcrdvcks]

Nasty

Summary: You and Logan deal with the aftermath of your mission.

Word Count: 5.4k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: i thought i'd put part 2 at out at the same time just 'cause. enjoy this pure smut!

(and yes, both titles are ariana grande songs, sue me)

warnings/tags: some uses of y/n, pet names, porn no plot, oral sex (m and f receiving), swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, not proofread

Part 1

The mission at the gala and the following one where the X-Men saved the mutants from the trafficking ring went on without a hitch.

But there was one thing you and Logan weren’t the greatest at. Talking about feelings.

You’re very aware that emotions are your specialty, being able to feel how everyone else feels, but you usually despise your own.

Despite the kiss incident at the gala, you and Logan acted normal around each other. The flirty comments to each other didn’t stop, not in the slightest.

You were leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in your hands, watching Logan rummage through the fridge.

“So, doll, you gonna keep ignoring the elephant in the room, or should I spell it out?” Logan’s voice was gruff, but there was that smirk on his face, the one he gave you whenever he knew he was pushing your buttons.

You raised an eyebrow, sipping your coffee slowly, playing it off. “What elephant? There’s just you and your terrible food choices.”

Logan chuckled, grabbing a leftover sandwich and leaning against the counter across from you. “Oh, you know damn well what elephant I’m talking about. You gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“I’m not pretending anything, Logan,” you replied, eyes narrowing slightly. “We kissed. So what? It’s not like it means anything.”

He raised an eyebrow, biting into his sandwich, clearly not buying it. “Is that what you’re telling yourself, Psionix?” he asked, using your code name like it was some kind of challenge.

You hated when he called you that in moments like this. It was like he was reminding you that you could feel his emotions, that you knew there was something more bubbling under the surface. Something you were avoiding.

“Yeah, well, maybe I am,” you shot back, setting your mug down with a little more force than intended.

Logan didn’t back down. “You’re a terrible liar, doll. Always have been.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “What do you want me to say, Logan? That I haven’t thought about it? That it didn’t make things... complicated?”

“Complicated, huh?” Logan pushed himself off the counter, his tone teasing but with a serious edge. He walked towards you, closing the distance between you both. “That what you’re afraid of? A little complication?”

You could feel his emotions swirling—interest, concern, a bit of hesitation—but also something more. Something deeper. It wasn’t like Logan to open up, and you weren’t exactly thrilled about digging into your own feelings either.

“What if I am?” you shot back, eyes meeting his. “What if things get... messy?”

Logan’s gaze softened just a bit, though that smug smirk didn’t leave his lips. “Messy’s my specialty, doll. And you can handle messy. You’ve been handling me all this time.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was truth in his words. Despite all the walls both of you had, there was something there. Something neither of you wanted to talk about, but neither of you could avoid.

“And what about you?” you countered, taking a step closer, not backing down. “You gonna pretend like nothing’s going on? Like you’re not... feeling something?”

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, his jaw tightening. “I don’t pretend about much, especially not with you,” he said, his voice low.

There was a tension in the air now, thicker than usual, and you could feel your heart beating a little faster. You hated how easily he got under your skin, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to stop.

“So what do we do, Logan? Keep flirting, keep dancing around it? Or do we—”

Before you could finish, Logan stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. “We could stop dancing around it anytime, doll. You know that.”

Your breath caught in your throat for a second, the weight of his words hitting you harder than expected. He wasn’t joking, wasn’t teasing anymore. This was serious. And suddenly, you realized just how much you were standing at the edge of something you weren’t sure you were ready for.

But Logan... Logan wasn’t the kind to wait around. Not when he wanted something.

“You ready to stop pretending?” His voice was rough, but there was that familiar glint in his eye.

For a moment, you considered stepping back, saying something sarcastic to deflect, to keep things light like you always did. But you couldn’t.

So, against your better judgment you repeated what you did at the gala. Your hands found Logan’s jaw, the coarse texture of his beard grazing your fingers as you pulled him into a kiss. His lips met yours with a fierceness that made your head spin. It wasn’t soft or tentative like the last time; it was hard, demanding, like he was done with all the talking, the flirting. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, the heat between your bodies immediate, burning through your clothes.

You gasped against his mouth as he pressed you back against the counter, the edge digging into your lower back, but you didn’t care. The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours, hungry, searching. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hands moved up your sides, possessive. He didn’t ask for permission. He just took, and fuck, you liked that.

Logan broke the kiss, his lips moving down your neck, nipping at your skin. You tilted your head back, giving him access, your breath coming out in quick, shallow bursts. “Logan—”

“Shut up,” he growled against your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. One hand slid up to cup your breast through your shirt, fingers squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp. You could feel him pressing against you, hard and insistent, leaving no room for guessing what he wanted.

You arched into him, the heat pooling low in your stomach, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. “I’m not pretending anymore,” you whispered, your voice shaky but firm.

He chuckled darkly, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “Good. Neither am I.”

With a rough shove, you sent Logan backward, his body landing hard on the kitchen chair. The scrape of wood against the floor echoed through the room, but neither of you cared. Your thighs straddled his, grinding down as your mouths crashed together in a frenzy of heat, teeth clashing, tongues desperate for more.

Logan’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of arousal through you. You tugged at his hair, breaking the kiss only long enough to catch a ragged breath. His cock pressed thick and hard against you through his jeans, and you felt it pulse as you rolled your hips over him, teasing.

His growl was low, primal, his hands sliding under your shirt, rough fingers kneading the flesh of your sides. You could feel him straining for control, his jaw clenched as he tried not to rip your clothes off right there.

Without another word, you slid off him and dropped to your knees between his legs. Logan’s eyes darkened as you reached for his belt, yanking it open with a sharp tug, the clink of metal punctuating the thick silence. He leaned back, his smirk dangerous as he watched you, those animal eyes locked onto every move you made.

The zipper came down next, your fingers brushing against his thick length straining against the fabric. Logan didn’t flinch, didn’t break eye contact, but the tension in his body said enough. He wanted this as much as you did.

“Fuck, doll, you gonna make me wait?” His voice was low, rough, like he was barely holding it together.

You didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, you pulled him free, his cock springing out, thick and hard in your hand. You stroked him once, slowly, enjoying the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers dug into the arms of the chair.

Then you wrapped your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth, slow at first, letting your tongue swirl around the tip, tasting him. Logan’s hand immediately found the back of your head, not pushing, just holding you there, like he needed to feel your mouth on him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips shifting slightly as you took him deeper. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard as you slid down, inch by inch, feeling his cock throb against your tongue. Logan’s grip tightened in your hair, his breathing ragged.

You set a rhythm, bobbing your head, your hand stroking what you couldn’t take in. Logan’s grunts and curses filled the air, and you felt a surge of satisfaction knowing how much you were getting to him. His thighs tensed, muscles coiled with that barely-contained need.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he growled, his voice strained. “You always did have a smart mouth.”

You hummed around him in response, the vibration making him twitch in your mouth. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in the way his hand tightened in your hair, the way his hips started to thrust, small, sharp movements as he fought the urge to fuck your throat.

You pulled off with a slick pop, your lips swollen, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock. Logan’s eyes were wild, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths as he stared down at you, his hand still tangled in your hair.

“Up,” he growled, the command rough but filled with need.

You didn’t hesitate, standing quickly as Logan’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you up into his arms. His lips were on yours again, hard and demanding, as he lifted you effortlessly. Before you knew it, you were stumbling through the kitchen, your back slamming into the hallway wall as he kissed you like he was starved for it.

“Bedroom,” he growled against your lips, his voice hoarse with desire.

You barely made it to the bed. Logan was on you before you hit the mattress, his body pinning yours as he ripped your shirt over your head, his teeth nipping at your neck, your collarbone, anywhere he could reach. His hands were everywhere, possessive, greedy, as he shoved your pants down, his fingers teasing your soaked panties.

“Fuck, doll,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re already so fucking wet.”

His fingers grazed over your panties, feeling the dampness soaking through. With a low growl, he hooked his fingers into the fabric and yanked them down in one swift motion, tossing them aside. His gaze burned as he stared at your pussy, glistening and ready for him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, spreading your legs wider with his hands, positioning himself between your thighs. “You’ve been teasing me long enough.” His rough hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he leaned down, his breath fanning over your swollen clit, teasing you with the promise of what was coming.

You bit your lip, trying to keep some semblance of control, but when his tongue flicked out, just barely brushing your clit, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your throat. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. “Fuck, Logan,” you groaned, your hips bucking slightly, desperate for more.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. With a growl, his mouth was on you, tongue lashing over your clit in slow, deliberate strokes, each one sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You could feel the heat building in your core, your body responding to every flick of his tongue, every wet slide against your most sensitive spot.

“God, you taste so fucking good,” he muttered between licks, his voice vibrating against your clit, making your back arch off the bed. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth working you over like he was starving for it, like he couldn’t get enough. And fuck, neither could you.

Your moans filled the room, breathless and ragged, each one louder than the last as his tongue worked you closer to the edge. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he devoured you, lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard enough to make your toes curl. You could feel the pressure building, feel yourself getting closer and closer to that breaking point.

“Logan,” you gasped, your hips grinding against his face, chasing that release. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

His tongue worked you relentlessly, flicking and lapping at your clit, his growls vibrating through your body, driving you mad with every stroke. Logan didn’t let up, sucking your clit into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure, sending sparks down your spine. His stubble scratched your inner thighs, the burn only adding to the pleasure as he devoured you, like he couldn’t get enough.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me come," you panted, fingers gripping his hair tight, pushing him deeper against you. Your thighs trembled, and Logan groaned, his tongue sliding lower, licking through your folds, teasing your entrance before diving back up to swirl around your swollen clit.

He growled low in his throat, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he held you in place, forcing you to ride his face. His tongue was relentless, flicking back and forth over your clit, each pass sending a shockwave through your core. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping your lips as the pressure built inside you, everything coiling tighter and tighter.

"Logan... fuck, I’m gonna—"

He didn’t let you finish, sucking hard on your clit, his tongue swirling faster, pushing you over the edge. Your body jerked, hips bucking against his mouth as the orgasm tore through you, a strangled cry escaping your throat.

"Ahhh, fuck... fuck, Logan!"

Your whole body tensed, thighs squeezing around his head as you came, the pleasure ripping through you in waves. Logan didn’t stop, his mouth working you through the orgasm, licking and sucking every drop as you trembled above him, breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Jesus," you muttered, trying to catch your breath, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Logan chuckled darkly, his hands squeezing your hips as he kissed up your thigh, his lips slick with your arousal.

"Told ya," Logan growled, voice thick with the weight of his hunger. He wiped the slick wetness of your release from his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes hooded and dark, locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. That wolfish grin flashed across his face, knowing damn well he’d had you shuddering beneath him like that.

He was still on his knees between your legs, his body a wall of muscle as he prowled closer, bracing himself with one hand beside your head, the other trailing up the inside of your thigh. His fingers grazed over your soaked folds, and you jolted, still sensitive from his mouth. He smirked at the way you twitched, unable to hide the raw arousal that had never truly ebbed.

"You're a fucking tease, doll." His voice was low, gravelly, lips brushing your ear as his fingers danced between your legs again, slipping over your entrance, teasing just enough to make you squirm.

You gasped, fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as he toyed with you, his fingers sliding against your soaked pussy but never giving you what you wanted. "Maybe I just know what you like," you whispered, breathless, grinning up at him through half-lidded eyes.

Logan growled low in his throat, leaning in to bite at your neck, sharp and possessive. "That so?" His fingers slid inside you then, two thick digits curling deep, stretching you in ways that had you biting back a moan.

"Fuck, Logan…" Your hips rolled against his hand, chasing that delicious friction, your body already wound tight again.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes smoldering as he watched your face twist in pleasure. "That’s it, doll. Show me how bad you want it." His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles that made your back arch off the bed, your breath catching in your throat.

You reached up, hooking your fingers into his belt loops, yanking him closer. "Fuck me," you demanded, voice raw, needy. You couldn’t take it anymore, the teasing, the way he kept pushing you higher without giving you the release you craved.

His grin widened, dangerous and dark. "Patience." But you felt the way he shifted his hips, the weight of his cock straining against his jeans.

"Fuck patience." You reached between you, hand bold as you cupped him through the denim, squeezing just enough to make him hiss through his teeth. His cock jumped in your hand, hard and ready. "I want you inside me, Logan."

That was all it took to snap his restraint. He let out a rough curse and pulled back just enough to shed his clothes, his jeans hitting the floor with a heavy thud. You watched every movement, eyes riveted to the thick length of him, pulsing and ready, the head glistening with pre-cum. He was so fucking hard it made your mouth water.

"Turn over," he growled, voice thick with command, as he yanked you up from the bed. You obeyed without hesitation, flipping onto your stomach, pushing your ass up for him, wanting to feel that heavy weight slide into you, to be filled so completely you’d forget everything but him.

Logan grabbed your hips, dragging you back against him. "Fuck, look at that pussy. So fucking wet for me, doll," he muttered, voice rough with desire. He ran the head of his cock through your folds, slicking himself with your arousal, teasing you again until you whimpered, pushing back against him.

"Please," you panted, desperate now, needing him to just take you already. "I need it, Logan."

He didn’t need to hear another word. With one sharp thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick cock, the feeling so intense it knocked the air from your lungs. You cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets, body taut as you tried to adjust to the sheer size of him.

“Fuck…” you gasped, your voice rough, the word a breathy moan as Logan began to move inside you. The stretch burned at first, but the way his cock filled you, the thickness pressing deep, made your entire body hum with raw, throbbing need.

Logan growled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, primal. “Tight as fuck, doll,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips like a vice, fingers digging into your flesh as he set a punishing rhythm, each thrust slamming into you, pushing you up the bed.

Every thrust had you keening, the pleasure dizzying, your mind blanking to everything except the way Logan filled you, stretched you, claimed you. "Logan… fuck, yes…" you moaned, hips bucking back to meet him, desperate to take him even deeper.

"Goddamn, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, voice gravelly, dark with lust. His pace quickened, his cock driving into you harder, each thrust sending jolts of electricity through your core, setting you on fire. He was relentless, the heat of him searing, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he leaned over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

You pushed back against him, arching your back to take him even deeper. "More," you gasped, voice hoarse with need. "Fuck, Logan, don't stop."

He didn't. If anything, his thrusts became rougher, more demanding, his cock pounding into you with a force that made you cry out, the sound a raw, guttural moan. His grip tightened on your hips, pulling you back onto him with every stroke, driving himself deeper into your soaked, aching pussy.

“Fuck, doll, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he growled, voice rough with need as his hips snapped forward, each thrust deep and brutal, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You love this, don’t you? Love being fucked like this.”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, pushing back harder, your body desperate for more, for everything he could give you. “Fuck, yes, Logan!”

He let out a dark chuckle, low and hungry, and leaned over you, his mouth brushing your ear. “Good girl.” His breath was hot, his voice a growl as he pounded into you, hips slamming against your ass. “Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

You whimpered, the sound high-pitched and breathless, your body trembling beneath him, every nerve ending on fire. His cock stretched you to the limit, each deep, hard thrust sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, driving you higher and higher, the pressure building, coiling tight in your belly.

“Logan… I’m—” The words barely made it past your lips before you felt yourself shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, the pleasure so intense it knocked the breath from your lungs. You screamed his name, your pussy clenching tight around him, squeezing him so hard it drew a rough groan from his throat.

Logan didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his thrusts hard and unrelenting as he fucked you through your orgasm, driving you higher, deeper into that blissful haze. “Fuck,” he growled, voice hoarse as he felt you clench around him, your walls milking his cock, your body trembling beneath him. “You’re so fucking tight, doll… squeezing me so goddamn hard…”

Logan’s eyes were practically feral, his grip on your hips ironclad as he flipped you onto your back. You barely had time to catch your breath before his body was on top of yours again, pressing you into the mattress. The weight of him was heavy, grounding, but it did nothing to dim the heat burning between your legs.

His lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, teeth nipping at your lower lip until you opened for him, letting him devour you like he had your pussy moments ago. His hand found your breast, squeezing hard, tweaking your nipple until you gasped against his mouth. You were slick with sweat, still trembling from the orgasm that had just ripped through you, but you wanted more.

“Logan…” You moaned his name, your legs falling open in invitation, your body still aching with need. The feeling of his cock, still hard and throbbing against your thigh, had you arching into him, desperate for him to fill you again.

He smirked down at you, one hand sliding down your side, brushing over your still-sensitive clit, making you twitch and gasp. “So eager, doll,” he growled, his fingers teasing your entrance, gathering the slickness there. “Didn’t get enough already?”

“You’ve been teasing me for months,” you shot back, your voice breathless but sharp, your hands grabbing at his biceps, pulling him closer. “About time you deliver.”

That earned you a low, dangerous laugh from him, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re a fucking tease,” he muttered, his fingers sliding inside you, curling in just the right way to make your back arch off the bed. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

You gasped, rolling your hips against his hand, already close again. “Fuck, Logan…”

He growled, his fingers pulling out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. You barely had a chance to whimper before he was between your legs again, the head of his cock sliding through your folds, slicking himself up with your arousal. You were wet, dripping, your pussy still clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“You ready for this, doll?” Logan’s voice was low, gravelly, as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock teasing you, just barely pressing inside. You could feel the heat of him, the thickness that was about to stretch you again, and it made your head spin.

“Yes,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Please, Logan, fuck me.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick cock. You cried out, the feeling overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure as your body adjusted to him. He didn’t stop, didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. He pulled back, only to slam into you again, each thrust deep, hard, and unrelenting.

“Fuck, Logan…” Your voice was hoarse, your body trembling beneath him as he set a punishing pace. He was so deep inside you, filling you completely, and every time he thrust, it sent shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you cry out, moan, beg for more.

“Goddamn, you’re perfect,” Logan groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he fucked you into the mattress. His eyes were dark, burning with lust as he watched your face twist in pleasure, your mouth open, gasping for breath. “So fucking good.”

“Logan… oh god, yes…” You were babbling now, barely able to form coherent words as he pounded into you, each thrust driving you higher, closer to that edge again. Your nails dug into his skin, your hips bucking against him, desperate to take him even deeper.

Logan's lips curled into that feral grin, sweat dripping down his temples as he watched you lose yourself beneath him. "Fuckin' beautiful," he growled, hips snapping forward, burying himself balls-deep inside her. "Takin' me so damn good, doll. That sweet little cunt of yours—" His voice was hoarse, breath ragged as he kept pounding into you, the slap of skin against skin filling the room.

Your hands shot up to his shoulders, dragging him down until his chest was pressed to your, needing to feel him, all of him. "God, Logan… I can feel everything…" she whispered, voice broken with need. Your psionics were kicking in, amplifying the intensity between them, feeling his hunger, his desire, like it was your own. You could barely think, your mind a whirlwind of lust and pleasure.

"Yeah?" Logan's voice rumbled against your ear, low and dangerous, and he drove into you harder, grinding his cock against your G-spot. "You feel that, huh?" His lips brushed your neck, teeth grazing your skin just before he bit down, marking you. The rough scrape of his beard against your sensitive skin only sent you spiraling deeper into the haze of pleasure.

You whimpered, legs trembling as you wrapped them around his waist, heels digging into his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer. "Logan, fuck!" You could barely get the words out, your body on fire, every nerve lit up with need. Your pussy clenched tight around him, slick and hot, as his cock pounded relentlessly into you.

He growled in response, one hand moving under your head as he yanked your head back so he could look into your eyes. "Look at me, doll," he ordered, his voice a rough command. "Wanna see that pretty face when I fuck you."

The weight of him pressed you deeper into the mattress as his hips drove forward, cock burying into your slick heat, every inch of him making you feel like you were about to split apart, but in the best way. Your lips parted in a sharp gasp, your body jerking from the intensity. “Logan—fuck,” you groaned, legs trembling as you tightened them around his waist, dragging him even closer. His cock filled you, stretching you so perfectly that you couldn’t help but whimper, the sound ragged, desperate.

His lips curled into a smirk as he watched you struggle to catch your breath, watched you squirm beneath him, utterly wrecked and begging for more. “You feel that, huh?” His voice was a low, dangerous rasp. “Feel how deep I’m inside you? Every inch of my cock stretching this pussy of yours?” He leaned down, his teeth grazing your ear, sending a fresh jolt of electricity through your already sensitized body.

You were barely coherent, your nails digging into his shoulders, desperate to hang on as Logan’s rhythm grew faster, rougher. “Fuck, Logan,” you gasped, hips bucking up to meet his every brutal thrust. His cock slammed into you, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that had you seeing stars, your back arching off the bed, mouth open in a silent cry.

Logan grunted, his grip on your hair easing just enough to let you move your head, but he didn’t let you escape the intensity of his gaze. He wanted to see you fall apart for him, wanted to watch you lose control, knowing he was the one doing it to you. “That’s it, doll,” he muttered, voice thick with lust. “Fucking take it. Let me feel how much you want this.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as you struggled to form words. “I—I need more…” Your voice was raw, shaky, but still laced with that bold edge that had always kept Logan coming back, that constant push and pull between you. You could feel the heat building again, that tight coil in your belly about to snap, and you needed more—needed him to take you higher, harder, faster.

Logan growled, a sound so deep and feral it sent shivers down your spine. “Greedy little thing,” he muttered, pulling out just enough to leave you aching, empty, before slamming back into you. “I’ll give you more.”

You cried out, fingers gripping his biceps as your entire body rocked from the force of his thrusts. Every inch of your skin was on fire, every nerve ending lit up, all of it focused on where his cock was buried deep inside you, pounding relentlessly. “Fuck, Logan!” Your voice was a ragged moan, the words half-gasped as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

“Yeah, you love this,” he growled, hips snapping forward with each brutal thrust, your body jolting beneath him. “You love being fucked like this, don’t you? Love how hard I’m fucking you?” His breath was hot against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin just hard enough to make you gasp.

“Yes! Fuck, yes, Logan—don’t stop,” you begged, your hips bucking up to meet his, desperate to feel every inch of him as he filled you, stretched you. Your walls clenched around him, slick and hot, your body already trembling with the buildup of another orgasm. “I’m so fucking close…”

Logan’s grin was dark, dangerous, his eyes locked on yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good girl,” he growled, his voice a rough command that made your entire body shudder. “Come for me, doll. Let me feel you come around my cock.”

His words were all it took. That tight coil in your belly snapped, sending you crashing over the edge. Your body convulsed, every muscle tightening as the orgasm tore through you, the pleasure so intense you couldn’t even scream. Your pussy clenched hard around his cock, milking him, pulling him deeper as you rode the waves of pleasure.

Logan groaned, his hips slamming into you harder, faster, driving you through your orgasm, prolonging every pulse of pleasure. “Fuck, Y/N…” His voice was hoarse, thick with need as he felt you tighten around him, your body trembling beneath him. His rhythm stuttered, his thrusts growing more erratic, more desperate.

You were still gasping for breath, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, but you weren’t done yet. Not even close. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him even closer, feeling his cock pulse inside you. “Come for me, Logan,” you whispered, your voice low, seductive. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

That was it. Logan let out a rough curse, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you one last time, his cock buried deep inside you. You felt him pulse, felt the heat of his release flood into you, and it sent another shiver of pleasure down your spine. He groaned your name, his body going rigid as he emptied himself into you, his breath hot against your skin.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you still catching your breath, still tangled in each other. You could feel the slick heat of your combined releases dripping between your thighs, but you didn’t care. You just lay there, wrapped up in Logan’s heat, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest.

“Jesus,” you finally muttered, your voice hoarse, breathless. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

Logan chuckled, low and rough, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Told ya, doll. I don’t do half-measures.” He lifted his head, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips as he looked down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “But you didn’t either, did you?”

You grinned, still breathless, still riding the high of what had just happened. “Guess not.”

tags: @freythecrazyfae, @its-in-the-woods

[andersonfilms]

❝ TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU ❞

pairing. abby anderson x fem!reader x owen!pissoff

TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU, being friends with benefits with abby is no easy feat, continuously finding yourself at odds with what you know is logic and a heavy heart but at tess and joel’s wedding, push comes to shove. putting you and abby between a rock and a hard place.

★ warnings y disclaimers. eighteen+, wedding!au, cheating, friends to lovers (kinda?), abby in a fucking suit, lowkey!mean abby, smidge of sub!abby, slight daddy!kink, angst + fluff + smut ps the whole trifecta, light bondage (r!tied up), fingering, 69ing, pussy munching, anal teasing, mean!abby, sub!reader, reader desc. feminine, anti-owen energy, lowkey mel slander.

wc. 21k+

hi guys! it's finally here! m'so proud of this one created with my love, @absfawn. this baby is our pride and joy, we had the most fun writing this together and hope y'all enjoy it as well. if you like it, let us know! feedback truly means a lot. anyways, happy reading!

Things have always been challenging for both of you. From the moment you met, friendship blossomed, sustaining for years, longer than Abby expected. She’s grateful for you but doesn’t know how you still tolerate her. An inkling can be found in the pit of her stomach, and every time her gaze catches you, there’s a hope that terrifies her. Almost a promise or a future she knows she wants but doesn’t think she can ever have. 

It’s been like this since the moment the two of you met. 

She remembers the first time she spoke of you, with Tess and Joel at the monthly dinner they had every first of the month, the light in her bright blues putting the full moon to shame. While Joel just chucked it up to a blossoming friendship, Tess could see something different — something bright. It shocked Tess even more when Abby brought Owen when she came to visit and not you. Her shine didn’t exist when Abby was with her boyfriend, but it did with you. Just a few months later, Tess met you, and she chucked when she saw how Abby couldn’t keep your eyes off of you. She constantly tended to you, ensuring you were comfortable, or the not-so-subtle hand rubbing your thigh sweetly. 

Joel was clueless about the behavior, but Tess could see it clearly as day. 

Tess had never seen Abby so full of joy, not since her mother had so tragically been taken away from her. 

Ever since her mother’s passing, Tess has been the one to take her under her protective wing. She was one of the very few Abby couldn’t count on, gracious to be there to hold her hand and wipe her tears when she lost her mother in her early teen years. As much as Abby loves her Father, the moments she misses her mom are more vigorous than one would like to admit. The specific way she would braid her golden hair or the tender kiss she would leave on her temple before she wished Abby goodnight. Her age didn’t matter; her mom never let her feel unloved from the moment she held her as a newborn. Abby’s curious eyes were all it took for mom to be enamored with her daughter. 

When her grades started slipping, and her absence at school became apparent, her soccer coach snapped her out. She let Abby talk about her mom when her Father, Jerry, was too weak to discuss the elephant in the room. Abby never blames him; she is the love of his life, and he mourns her every day. He looks at her bright blues, and the touch of green surrounding the irises reflects her mothers. She also talked about how soft spoken Abby is, how particular she is with her tidiness, and how she learned to braid her hair like her mother used to. 

Ever since then, the bond they shared nearly became unbreakable. 

Tess never had a child of her own, and she never could either, but with Abby, it almost felt like she was one of her own—the adoptive daughter she didn’t even know she needed but couldn’t imagine her life without. Even if Abby has to take a flight to see her, they never miss their Sunday afternoon call, where they catch up on the nonsense in both of their lives. 

It’s one of the most incredible comforts Abby has. She’ll treasure it for as long as she has Tess, her second chance at a mother’s love, she likes to call it. However, Abby couldn’t get away with hiding in the dark sometimes because of how close they were. Especially when she brought you over for the holidays for the first time. 

Two Years Earlier…

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Owen or you and her, but don’t mess it up with her.” Tess mumbles as they watch from a distance. There you are, Joel, and you, her Father, Jerry, preparing Thanksgiving dinner. You look happy. It brings a delightful smile to Abby. It feels right, you being here with her, how easy all of it is except for why it’s so painfully not. 

“Yeah, I might be putting my foot in my mouth with this one,” Abby admits. She sips on the chilled beer you brought her a few moments ago. 

“Something is going on, isn’t it? Showing up with her instead of Owen is surely saying something.” Tess huffs out ironically. “Can’t imagine one like that is too keen on someone other than himself taking up time in your life.” 

“I suppose something is going on,” Abby says so quickly that Tess almost misses it. 

“Abigail Anderson.” 

“I know! Okay, I’ll stop it. I just—” She pauses to look at you, making an effort with her Father as Jerry’s probably telling you some old joke you’ve already heard three too many times, but you humor him. 

“You love her.” 

“I don’t—” 

“Don’t even, Abigail.” The older woman bites back. Abby opens her mouth to say a line of defense, but it says so openly that she thinks a fly might go ahead and make a home. 

Tess has always been a no bullshit kind of woman. She was never one to beat around the bush; she always directly called out Abby on her own shit. When it stunk, she would be the first to tell her. 

“I don’t have to tell you how this looks, do I?” 

“Nope. We’re crystal clear.” 

Dinner goes off without a hitch. There is roasted ham—the biggest ham Abby has ever seen—mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, beets, sweet potatoes, and her favorite—apple pie. Everyone digs in rather quickly. The Southern meal does wonders for the heart but silences the makeshift family. Abby can hear Joel moan as he stuffs his mouth full of potatoes. 

Her dad keeps the conversation light, asking where Ellie is. Apparently, her flight got snowed in. She missed the original flight due to not setting an alarm, resulting in oversleeping an hour past her flight. Everyone is quietly talking when you notice some gravy dribbling down her lips. 

“Here, Abs, let me get it.” Instead of using your napkin to clean up the mess, your thumb wipes it off her pink and pouty lips, doing it all with a sweet smile on your face. As if it had never happened, you dig back into your food. 

You miss it. 

Tess gives Abby a deadly look, her eyes bugging at the mannerisms. How close the two of you must be that Abby, who isn’t one for physical touch, let you do something so intimate and so easily at that. Raising her eyebrows as if to signal if it genuinely happened, Abby measly shrugged at Tess as if it was no big deal. 

The rest of the night, Abby was mindful of how close they got to you, but you seemed to really not give a fuck. After you were done eating, your head resting on her shoulder as you lightly engaged in conversation, the food doing its job, nearly subduing you into a small comatose. 

No more than a few hours later, you have a glass of wine as you sit next to Abby, joking with Joel as you rub the back of her muscular back. Drawing random patterns on her spine as she nearly moans from the tingles sent through your body. 

This is everything Abby wants at her fingertips; you are everything she’s ever wanted. The way you’re so soft, delicate when you handle other people, how when you comfort her, it’s the warmest she’s felt in god knows how long. She thinks of Owen and how he makes her feel, but it doesn’t make her feel anything at times, not the intensity she feels in the rapid beat of her heart each time she feels your comforting touch or your sweet voice dripping honey all over her. 

Life has always been in black and white — good and bad choices for her. 

But none of this seemed to be that simple. 

Especially since she’s the said person making the questionable decisions. Desperately, she finds herself forced to think of it each time Tess throws her a glance each time you do something entirely too intimate for a platonic, casual friend. Nothing about this is purely a token of friendship, but the only person questioning it is the woman who knows her like the back of her hand. 

The last night she’s there, her urges give in, especially when you’re begging for it. It’s not even thirty minutes since you went to the guest bedroom, separate from her own, and you’re knocking on her door. Your pupils are dilated, thighs rubbing against one another, your perky tits visible through the think tank top and pajama shorts you’re wearing. 

It isn’t long before you’re in her bed, deliciously placed on top of her with you, with your slick folds gliding against her. Even with as good as it feels, how close Abby knows she’s getting, the tight knot in her stomach begging to be released, she savors the moment. It’s a slight tick she has, watching you as you use her body to feel the euphoric rise. The headboard creaks as you roll your hips. Abby should care that someone might hear them, but when your pace increases, her body twitches, and she loses control, finding it difficult for anything else to cross her mind. The irresistible high Abby rides sends you into your own, your body collapsing on top of her. 

With the palm of her hands, she soothes your back, rubbing her hands up and down your spine, your body shaking from the orgasm. 

Maybe it’s the holidays or seeing you with her family. The words she desperately wants to say threaten to spill over her tongue. Almost as if you can sense it, your lips find hers as you reach backward to grab her hands, intertwining them with your own before pinning them over her head. A flutter fills the blonde as you kiss along her jaw sweetly before finding her lips again, telling her everything you know the both of you can’t say. 

’Cause the reality is Abby isn’t yours to hold, but the two of you will keep pretending like she is. You fall asleep cuddled into her frame, your soft breath grazing into her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Just like every night this happens, Abby can’t sleep. 

From a very young age, Abby has always been one to worry, keeping her up all night. Her mother had to convince her to take melatonin, which dissolves on her tongue just so she could get sleep throughout grade school. As the years passed, her life became more complicated, and the amount of sleep she got seemed to decrease substantially. 

Carefully, she untangles her limbs, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. She blows a puff of smoke, swinging back and forth on the porch swing, and the moonlight kisses her cheeks. As much as Abby likes to deny it, the holidays make her miss home, but she’s found another thousands of miles away that’s hard to give up. 

Of course, Tess can’t sleep either. 

She takes the bud from Abby’s grip and takes a hit herself. 

“You know these are so bad for you.” Tess shakes her head, the draw she has peeping through. 

“Not bad enough for you, huh?” Abby giggles as Tess rolls her eyes. If she looks closely enough, she sees the little thirteen year old mama’s girl before her eyes. The sentiment nearly makes Tess’ eyes water. It’s been such a long time since she’s seen the bright-eyed athlete this blissful. “Guess not, Abigail.” 

“Jerry was talkin’ about you and her after y’all retreated for the night.” Abby’s eyes quirk up, her body language becoming rigid at the mention of you. She tries to ease her nerves, taking another hit as she allows the cannabis to infiltrate her lungs, almost holding a candle to the insatiable addiction she has for you. “Oh yeah?” 

She passes the joint back to Tess as she takes another hit, blowing it into the crispy fall wind as it kisses the oak tree hovering over the house. Abby isn’t sure why it puts her own edge or why there is a need to protect you from any further suspicions. The status of her current relationship, the one she has with you, why Owen isn’t here with her, and why you are. It’s an answer she doesn’t really have yet.  

“Less arguing with her than Owen. It’s what he joked about, nothing serious. Unwound that neck of yours, thought you’d be less tense with all that creaking.” 

“Tess!” 

“What? I’m old, not deaf.” 

Abby can’t help the blush creeping up her neck, crawling to her freckled cheeks. She doesn’t want to smile or expose her feelings about you more than tonight, but she fails. It creeps on her just like you have. The only thing she’s sure of is it won’t halt anytime soon. This deep hole she’s dug herself in just gets her closer to hell, but sinning has never felt so euphoric. She feels it every time your sweet taste dances on her tongue or your giggle is so light it fills everyone in the room with joy. Her favorite has to be your smile. Abby swears she’s seeing an angel for the first time. 

“Just say it. If you can’t tell anyone else, tell me. You can’t tell her right now, or that girl will run in another direction, leaving you with that sorry excuse for a man by your side.” Tess huffs as Abby rolls her eyes. 

“He’s not that bad.” 

“He must be that bad if you’re hooking up with someone who isn’t your boyfriend, Abigail.” Abby’s mouth opens, and no words manage to crawl out as she looks at Tess with wide eyes. Sure, she was a blunt and honest person most of the time, but she could have saved Abby the trouble of being so fucking honest for just a moment. Just to save her already breaking heart. 

“S’not what it is—”

“No?” Tess cocked her head to the side, looking at Abby silently, almost as if she was trying to figure her out. “Then what is it? Just us here, Abby. Like I said if you can’t turn to anyone else and speak to them about whatever the fuck is going on, at least speak to me. Is that not what I told you years ago? If you are ever having a problem or an issue, you come to me, and I will do my best to help you.”

Abby lowers her head in shame or frustration—she has no idea which—and inhales deeply. “It’s s’not that easy. You think me sitting here, smoking with you, is going to make it easier? Because I won’t. I don’t know why you’re trying so hard.”

“Because I love you, and I don’t want to see you or anyone else hurt in the process.” She’s blunt again, but her serious face falters just a little bit when Abby nods slowly. “Abby—”

“You don’t understand. You don’t understand how much it hurts,” Her blue eyes pierce into Tess’s, and she feels her heart break piece by piece. “You don’t, you have Joel, you have each other, a love you share doesn’t always happen to everyone else. I won’t get a love like yours because m’just fucking up my life by hurting everyone who walks into it. Owen doesn’t even look at me the same anymore, and what am i supposed to do? Slap on a smile and act like that’s fuckin normal? And when he is fine? It’s not important enough for him to see. Being with her is something I haven’t felt or had before.”

“You either tell her you love her or you end it, s’’not right, and you know it. You’re just stringing her along.” 

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Abby scoffs and tugs at her hair with a soft growl under her breath. “You think I don’t think about that whenever I tell her to leave? Even though she can make my shitty night into something perfect? Do you think m’not thinking that the entire time? What do you want me to say to her? I love you, but I can’t ruin your life because I love fucking up mine?” She laughs, one Tess can smell is fake, and shrugs to herself. 

“Everything I’ve had, or had, gets taken from me, and when I find the one thing that m’here for, and I can’t do anything but see her behind closed doors, those stupid glances and smiles that make my heart feel like it’s going to rip out my chest? That’s what is fucking keeping me alive. Just to see her fuckin face, to see her smile, makes me feel alive. It makes me feel again.” Abby finally looks up at Tess, the walls she’s built up for years slowly crack. “You think I don’t know m’breaking her heart because I have no idea what I'm doing with my life right now? You're wrong if you think I don’t because I spend endless nights hating myself for it. No one will ever hate me more than I hate myself, Tess.”

For once, Tess is stunned into silence. Abby closed herself off from friends and family as she grew older, never opening up about her feelings and emotions. Even if people said it wasn’t a healthy thing to do, she never listened and kept at it. “No one hates you, Abby.” Her voice is quiet and cautious as she reaches for Abby’s hand, a hand that’s suddenly grown colder as the minutes pass.

“I hate myself,” Abby’s voice cracks, a younger shell of herself clawing its way out. “I hate myself and don’t know what to do.”

“You need to start being honest with yourself, Abby.” Tess smiled, reaching up and wiping Abby’s tears away with a soft touch. “How badly do you love her?”

“To the point, I can’t be without her.”

Abby’s body leans more into Tess’s touch the longer she wipes away her tears and rests her head on her shoulder. “Then you have to tell her, you know? I know the entire situation is a fucked up one, at best, but you’re still hurting yourself. I don’t want you to hate yourself, and I don’t want you to end up being hurt in the end. Do you understand where I’m coming from? That’s all I want for you, to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, Abigail.”

“She makes me happy, Tess.”

“I know, Sweetheart,” Tess mumbles against her temple and brushes loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Talking and admitting things isn’t easy for you like it is for others. I know that, but you can’t keep holding in how you feel because you are scared to hurt the person who’s supposed to take care of you. We can see you aren’t happy with Owen, Abby, everyone can see it but you and him. If you love her and not him, you need to tell her. I’m here, I’m always here if you need that extra bit of help, but getting how you feel off your chest, to her, will do you good.”

Abby makes a sound between a groan and a huff before nodding against Tess’s shoulder slower than a snail slides. “M’trying. Everyday m’trying but it’s just so hard.”

“I’m not telling you to tell her about the day when you would throw a fit when I tried to brush your hair or would slap the scissors out my hand whenever you asked me to cut your hair; you don’t have to rush yourself, I know that people are hurting but you are also hurting, and that’s the last thing I want for you. Go at your own pace, but don’t leave it too late, Abby. People only wait for a certain amount of time.”

“What if I’ve already lost her?” Abby can’t help but insecurely ask.

“I don’t think she would still be happy to see you if you lost her, Abigail. The girl isn’t going anywhere, but she might if you don’t tell her how you really feel. I can see the way she looks at you, it’s the same way Joel looks at me, actually,” Tess laughed, slapping Abby’s head lighty when she playfully made gagging sounds. “Enough of that.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“As I was saying, she looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. If you lost her, she wouldn’t continue to look at you like that. That is all I'm saying. Given how shitty the entire situation is right now, I Can tell you that girl is not going anywhere. You just need that extra push to tell her how you really feel, okay?”

Abby lifts her head and looks at Tess, her eyes red and slightly puffy; a small smile appears on her lips before she nods again. “Okay,” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll try. Thank you.” The blonde sniffles.

“That’s what I’m here for, to make sure you stay out of shit like this,” Tess jokes while Abby simply rolls her eyes. “You’re the best thing in my life, Abby, I hate to see you so upset.”

“I thought Joel was the best thing in your life?”

“What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him, you will always be my favourite person. Just think next time before something like this happens, for my sake. I’m getting older, you know.” She shoves Abby’s shoulder with hers gently and squeezes her hand. “I love you. Even if you have ruined my makeup.”

That has Abby on alert, her eyes widening as she looks at Tess to find the once perfect mascara smudged under her eyes. “Did I make you cry? M’sorry—”

“I give a shit about you, Abby. When you’re hurt, I’m hurt because you’re in pain, and sometimes I don’t know what to do to make you feel better,” She admitted softly. “If you think I can sit here and not cry when you’re telling me you hate yourself, then you are stupid. It breaks my heart to know you think so little of yourself. You’re perfect, you hear me? No matter what is happening, you’re worth so much more. You deserve so much more than what he’s giving you. If he’s the reason you think of yourself so little of yourself like this, I’ll park my foot up his ass.”

A wet laugh rips through Abby’s throat before she can stop it and Tess is just happy that Abby’s already feeling just a little better. “I would like to see that,” She giggled, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. “It’s not— I think I’ve just started hating myself over the years because it’s easier than loving myself. I don’t know, sometimes I don't think m’good enough for anyone so hating myself seemed easier, m’working on it, I promise.” 

“You’re good enough, Abigail. You’re more than enough. I don’t care if it takes me years, i’ll make you see how perfect you are. You deserve more than he’s ever given you. I just wish you would see that. She makes you happy, he doesn’t. You and her work. I only had to find you both looking at each other with that smile, and I knew. You can’t hide anything from me, ever. It’s impossible.” Tess smiled, a smile that Abby missed when she was always so serious.

“I love you,” Abby chokes out, voice slightly rough and raspy, but she gets it out. “I know I don’t tell or show you enough, but I do love you. I know that I don't say anything enough, but thank you, and not just for tonight. It has been for every night, every day, since I was younger. For never giving up on me when some days I really wished you would. Some days, you would look at me, and I just wished you would give up on me because I didn’t want to disappoint someone else I love.”

“You never disappoint me, Abby. You could never do that.”

“Not even right now?”

“You might have put yourself in a stupid place right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve disappointed me. That’s something that you could seriously never do. You just need to think about what you want and do it. No more holding back. Take that leap and go for what you want.”

“I want her. I’ve always only ever wanted her, Tess.”

“Then stop crying in my arms and go get your girl.” 

— 

Two Years Later…

Abby, now more than ever, wonders if she’s truly become this malignant villain. Even with good intentions, she still manages a way to wreak havoc in your life — only wishing to be your savior but somehow ending up your heinous villain. The rose colored glasses covering your perfect, beautiful eyes, not being able to see what’s so clearly in front of you. 

For there is a day like today, where she can’t even stand to look at herself in the mirror. It’s a truly, unsettling, aching feeling that wells in her chest before it sinks to her stomach. Silently, she tells herself, this will be the last. You deserve more than this. 

She promises to end things with Owen, her long standing boyfriend, the needle in your spin. The needle in the haystack you need to pluck and throw into another dimension. Every time you bring him up, Abby closes herself off or redirects the subject. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s talking about him when she’s with you. She tells herself it doesn’t but the guilt consumes her, not for being with you but because she’s unable to give you what you deserve. 

Abby can’t quite stop herself from dragging her feet in the mud, the impending blow of her relationship with Owen is near but still halts. A safety net may be the cause of her hollow demise, but it’ll be there to catch her. 

You question why she needs him at all. 

Late night booty calls where she’ll have to make up some lie to Owen as she seeks the refuge of the nectar she craves on her salivating lips, how the insatiable blonde won’t stop until you’re coating over lips entirely, the sweet sensation dancing on her tongue as she swallows every drop. When she’s practically dying for a taste, you never say no to her, even if you should, you're not capable of it. Even if her intentions are well placed she still takes advantage of the situation. 

Abby wonders if it’s obvious how much craves for a moment of your undivided attention. Do you know how much you replay in her mind? The moans rivaling a symphony, the one she imagines as Abby gets off to the thought of you. Thick, long fingers stuffed in her cunt as she contemplates if you do the same. It seems you must when you’re calling her tonight, moaning her name softly as you beg her to come over. Even if she was just there last night, Abby would come running like a dog digging for their favorite bone.

As long as you asked, she will always come. 

It isn’t until after when you’re so blissed and fucked out, the guilt surfaces again, practically substituting the blood supply pumping through her veins. Hazy eyes clouded with lust and love look at her, the damn look always getting her in this bed with you. To no avail, it’s a cycle she created and enabled, the two of you too weak with need to break. 

Abby feels shame when she doesn’t let the love reach her eyes, the love that reaches yours every time you look at her. She’s envious of it. How open your love expands even when she’s done nothing but tangle you up in her web of lies and deceit. 

She’s only snapped out of her thoughts when you run your fingers through her golden hair, her blocked blues, void of any tell of what she’s thinking looks at you again, really looks instead of just staring off into whatever has her so tripped up. She tries anyway. 

“Baby, come back to me.” 

The pad of your thumb caresses her scarred cheek, delicately tracing patterns into her soft skin, but you know she won’t come back. Not mentally, not until there’s distance from what the both of you did. Until it happens again and this is where the both of you land again. 

“I don’t know—” You shut her up, lips locking with her even softer ones, pink and swollen from the past few hours. 

“Stop. Please? Would you just look at me?” 

“I am…looking.” 

“Baby?” You speak softly, so delicate it makes Abby nearly whine. The name of endearment, as soon as it falls, engraves your name on another piece of her heart. Each time you’re sweeter to her than she deserves, a little part of her is given to you. Abby isn’t sure how much she has left that doesn’t belong to you. 

Every bit of it is yours to have, even if you decide you don’t want it, her heart will always belong to you. 

“Yeah?” She leans into your touch, even if it’s just for a singular second, you pick up on it. 

“Can you stay tonight?” You plead as you crane your neck to look at her from a better angle, fully coming off your high, until it’s replaced with a new one. Every second you look at her it feeds the endless addiction you have for her, the drug you need more and more every day. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” Her voice is full of rasp as she agrees to your request. Then she uses her strength to pull you back on top of her. Your face rests against hers as you find warmth in the crook of her neck, smelling the familiar oak scent laced with vanilla as she runs a gentle hand up and down your spine. Even if you’re afraid this will stop at any given moment, you cherish the moment. 

Abby starts telling you about her day, all the stupid little shit, just boring no sequential errands she was running to fill her days. It’s strangely domestic, a side she doesn’t expose often. With you or anyone. The complaints about Abby’s stone wall are said often to Mel. How she’s nearly stoic these days, staying in the confinements of her own mind, watching as the world passes her by instead of living in it. 

What neither of them neglect to know she is, but it’s done in such secrecy the omission must die on your tongue. The dirty little secret you must protect like an oath you don’t remember swearing, but with Abby it’s all the same. 

You would do anything for her. As much as it hurts in the big moments when she can’t be here with you, it heals you when she’s in your bed, caressing your back, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Promises you want to believe, a complement of how pretty you are, or how much she misses you in the time you’re subjected to spend apart. It’s when you’re strong, when you want more but know you can’t have it so it makes you upset. Enough to the point where you distance yourself but ultimately this is where it always ends up. Not just for you, but for her too. 

“M’sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” You confess, easier to say it when you don’t have to look at her. 

“It’s okay.” Abby thinks you should just leave her, cut her out of your life, leave her broken and bleeding. It should be the penance she pays for holding so much time in your life. 

“It’s not. You wouldn’t do it to me.” Abby sighs but she wraps you up in her strong arms, pulling you closer to her, if it was even possible. “I do sometimes, it’s not entirely true.” 

As you stroke her blonde hair, running your fingers through the strands you ask her something, a terrifying thought that feels you with so much dread, your hands begin to shake. 

“Abby?” It isn’t the usual way you say her name, it’s void of emotion which makes her create a slight distance so she can look at you. You’re trying so hard not to cry, choking back the tears as but they start to slip, viciously without your permission. An instant, the girl below you starts wiping them away, doing her best to soothe you. “What’s wrong?” Laced with concern as you try to avoid her overpowering gaze, because if you do, you won’t get out what you need to say. You’ll fall into her, unable to find yourself, trapped in the abyss of the woman you love. 

“Just promise me.” 

“Promise you what?” 

“Promise you’ll be honest with me. Promise me if you get bored with me, if this becomes too much for you or if you decide it’s him and not me, you’ll tell me. I can handle all of this but I can’t handle being lied to or being shoved in the dark.” 

It doesn’t take her more than a second to respond, “I promise. You’ll always have my honesty.” Abby locks her lips with yours, you whimper in her mouth, so loudly it’s nearly pathetic. She tastes the saltiness of your tears, the anguish funneling beneath you. Truthfully, she doesn’t blame you. Two and a half years and you’re still here. Abby knows she doesn’t deserve for you to be but you are. With the wedding coming up and her going with Owen, your place by her side is insignificant, making you wish things were different. 

Abby tries to tell you how she feels through the kiss, without saying what she actually feels, what she’s always wanted to tell you but can’t. It’s too cruel to say when Abby can’t fully give herself to you. So, she holds you until you fall asleep in her arms and only then does she cry. Truly hating herself for breaking one of the only people she’s ever truly loved, splitting you into two the longer she contemplates on what to do. She hopes you’re deep in sleep, unable to feel the tears kissing your shoulder because if anything has pushed her to the brink, it’s seeing the love of her life cry because of what she’s done. 

— 

Two week later…

Thursday. September 2024. 

Abby couldn’t stop moving, the entire ride to the airport in the shared uber with you by her side. Indifference. It was too much for her to hyperfixate on so she focused on the dreary cloud as gray as her depleted eyes, void of the natural blue tint it once held. 

The ring on your thumb, an emerald stone, a gift from Abby for your birthday being constantly tapped with the blunt of your nail. There’s a craving Abby wants to satiate, a need bubbling at the service to link your fidgeting palm with hers but she can’t. 

This entire weekend she won’t be able to. Somehow, with the help of Owen’s oblivious nature, she convinced him it’d be a good idea to take separate flights due to her insane schedule which wasn’t not true. 

Just an exaggerated truth. At least that’s what she told herself. 

The ongoing fights with Owen, the pleading from you — rightfully so. It’s tearing her in two different directions. 

“Abs—” Your gentle touch lightly caresses her exposed forearm, “We’re here.” 

She’s pulled back into reality with a touch so light and warm, Abby swears she sees stars. Even when you’re upset with her, your kindness still extends, something she’s not quite sure what to do with. If she welcomes it, she’s greedy for wanting to have her cake and eat it too. On the other hand if she dismisses you to ease her guilty conscience, it makes her into the malicious monster she never wants to be. 

Abby carries both of your bags as you make your way through the airport. The only exception? Your personal carry-on you refuse to let her hold. She wants to question the action, but she lets it slip through the cracks. 

The line to board is outrageously long. Absent-mindedly, Abby’s head falls into the crook in your neck, her chest pressed against your back. She forgets she shouldn’t feel the right to. Not when she promises so much but always tends to go back on her word. 

Yet, you say nothing. 

A part of you knows that if you say something, or try shrugging her off, it’s going to end in one of you saying the wrong thing, in a place at the wrong time, but on the other hand, you could never deny her touch, or being so close to her. She was intoxicating, maybe Abby didn’t think so, but to you, she was all you wanted, all you wanted to be around. So when her body suddenly relaxes more against yours, and your hand wraps around to keep her up, her eyes, ones that were on the brink of falling asleep, snap open, you know she’s got questions. Many of them. Many you don’t have the heart of words to reply to. So you both say nothing, again. A silent action that holds everything. Abby doesn’t need to ask what’s going on in your head, the same way you don’t need to ask what’s going on in hers. You both already know. 

By the time you make it onto the plane, Abby feels even closer. So close that you can smell the pinewood body wash she used this morning, the smell of her mint gum she keeps chewing on when you got the uber. You were so caught up in your own mind, and your crazy thoughts that you didn’t even realize or feel the hand she had on your lower back, guiding you to where you were both seated. It was natural for her to do that when it was just you two. Keeping you safe, always having an arm around you just in case anything were to happen.jk 

Her touch always made you melt, she knew it, yet she didn’t stop herself from letting go.

“Do you want the window seat, or?” Abby left the question open, it’s the most she’s said to you all morning, her eyes did most of her talking whenever she would look at you, but even though you were somewhat upset with her, hearing her voice made you relax. “Babe” the pet name rolls off her tongue so effortlessly and gently that she doesn’t realize she’s done it, it’s only when your head snaps up to look at her, with your lips parted, that she does. “Shit, that’s, m’sorry. I know you’re upset with me right now—”

But you smile, maybe you laughed a little too, but she can’t focus when you’re smiling at her like that. “Abs, s’okay. You say it a lot, it was going to happen.” you reminded her, fumbling with your ring again, a nervous habit you’re convinced only happens around her. “I know you like the window seat, even though you worry me when you completely zone out looking at the clouds” you teased, poking her in the shoulder lightly.   

“Hey, clouds are relaxing to look at.” Abby shrugged, a cheeky smile curving up on her lips. “And i know you like being closer to the snacks when they bring them out, so we both win” She’s teasing this time, and you let her. “But you forget, you always make me buy you snacks before we go anywhere”

“I don’t make you, you offer to buy me them!”

“You still take them though, don’t you?”

“That’s beside the point, Anderson, you know i love my snacks. Nothing will ever get in the way of me and them. No matter what you say.”

“Not even us?”

The question had your heart aching and you hadn’t even sat down yet! Abby doesn’t miss the way you look at her and then away from her, like you don’t even know how to respond to that. She knows it’s too soon to be asking that, yet sometimes, her mouth runs before her brain can keep up with her. Something you did like about her. “Not here, Abby, please” your words came out as a whisper, eyes silently pleading at her.

“You’re right, m’sorry, again. I seem to be fucking up a lot lately, don’t i?” She smiles, but it’s one that doesn’t reach her eyes like all the other times. Because she knows if she keeps asking, looking at you like that, acting like this is normal, it’s going to break you even more. 

“You haven’t, you’re not, it’s just a lot, we can talk about it after, okay?” 

“After.” Abby nodded, the smile finally reaching her eyes. 

Hope.

For the most part, once you had both sat in your seats, Abby by the window comfortably and you, on the outside seat, already patiently waiting for the snacks, the blonde hadn’t uttered a single question that involved the pair of you. The one not long ago still lingered in your head, in your chest and it just consumed you. You were glad that she had decided to suddenly become quiet, looking out the small window in hopes she wouldn’t accidentally spill another question that had you pulling more away from her. 

She could handle a lot. Losing you was one she couldn’t handle. 

She knew she would lose you fully if she pressed too hard on a question.

Abby couldn’t afford to let that happen. 

Apart from the chatter of parents, and screaming children a few rows in front of you, Abby didn’t move a muscle. It was funny. Sometimes if she were focused, she would grind her teeth together, you would only know that if you’ve been around her long enough. You heard it one night. It was after a small fight with Owen, that she ended up at your apartment and you could hear the way she ground her teeth together from sitting beside her, but this time, not a single peep from her. Not even a flinch when one of the children screamed at the top of their lungs. 

She didn’t even drop hints that she knew you were looking over at her. Abby was used to your stare, used to the feeling of knowing when you would have your gaze on her whenever you had the chance that is, so maybe this was just her playing hard to get, but it still came as a shock that she wasn’t even phased. One second she’s missing you and your touch, to then not even caring about it or having it the next. After all this time, she was still hard to figure out, just like she was when you met her.

you’ll figure her out, again, if you have to.

—

Friday. September 2024.

The night, one that’s supposed to be happy and cheerful, doesn’t seem to be like that for Abby. Don’t get her wrong, she’s happy, happy for those around her, happy for those having fun, happy for Joel and Tess on their engagement. I mean, why wouldn’t she be happy for them? it was Joel and Tess, the same Tess that’s been there for Abby during a few, more like multiple, rough patches in her life, listened to her when she felt like anything she did wasn’t good enough, spoke to her about you, and how shitty she feels about not giving you everything you deserve. The same Tess that’s never let her down, but as she stands here, away from everyone else who seems to be enjoying it, cradling a bottle of beer in her hand, Abby wants to run. She isn’t sure why. All she knows is that the longer she watches the people around her, watches you, she wants the ground to swallow her whole, chew her up, and spit her back out.

Abby picks lamely at the label, easily torn away by the condensation of the bottle of beer, it’s all she can do at the moment. Owen seems to be interested in the topics Mel is bringing up. Any other night, she might feel her blood boiling in her presence but she finds herself otherwise occupied. The barstool she’s nursing supports her thighs, Owen’s cologne is so strong she almost finds herself gagging on the musky oak, the one she hates. It reminds her of you, ironically enough. 

You’re the antithesis of him. Abby couldn’t find one similarity if she tried. All hours for the rest of her life could be spent on this one task, yet it would always remain unfinished. The softness of your skin, putting the finest silk to shame. She thinks of your kind heart, the patience that extends to her in ways she doesn’t feel deserving of. On more days than she has enough hands to count, you’ve dropped your entire list of responsibilities for her. When there’s been no one else, there’s always been you.

Owen doesn’t even notice how her jaw clenches, the muscles constricting against the harsh grind of her teeth, the grim frown gracing her sunkissed face, or even the way her firm hand fists the glass so hard, Abby’s just a few moments waiting for it to blow. Part of her, however small it may be, wishes for the glass to pierce her sensitive porcelain skin. Maybe then you’d actually care instead of being lost in the shining emerald’s of Ellie fucking Williams. 

Abby wishes she crushed her skull the first chance she got.

Or maybe break her fingers.

She has an endless list.

One that seems to get shorter whenever she finds you. Her only reason is you.

Abby hates the way Ellie’s hands find refuge on your lower back, the same place she loves to place her own whenever she’s close to you. She doesn't know why the way your face and smile light up at something she’s said to you, tears Abby's heart into pieces. Just the way you look into Ellie’s eyes and laugh is like an arrow just got shot through her heart. So many promises she’s made you, and the longer the seconds and minutes pass, she feels like you’re forgetting all about them. Maybe she only has herself to blame. No, she knows she is the only one to blame. 

You weren’t even hers, and she was losing you to someone who had already taken enough from her. That scares her. It scares her with how far she would go for you. Just to see you happy, safe, and smiling. There isn’t a single thing she wouldn’t do for you. 

She’s scared to be yours, but she’s terrified to not be yours. 

Your eyes found hers like a magnet, almost as if you were trying to find her, and Abby’s heart flutters at the sight when you smile at her. A smile she has devoted months upon months of trying to bring out of you with her shitty jokes and silliness. The prior worries and doubts seem to disappear into the back of her mind, disbursing like an open fire that’s slowly burning out, and she gives you a small wave. A wave that has you waving her over, wanting her to be closer, needing her to enjoy herself.

“Abby, if you don’t get over here, m’going to drag you off that stool!” You yelled over the music, your giggle sending another flutter in her chest. Did you seem to forget Ellie? Abby thought as she placed the bottle on the counter and sighed deeply through her nose. 

Fumbling with her jacket sleeve cuff links, Abby’s eyes, one’s that you love to look at, stay locked to yours as she slowly makes her way towards you, a familiar look sparkling in those blue orbs of hers, and she has the nerve to fucking smirk one she’s close enough. The blonde looks over at Ellie, that harsh resentment bubbling back up, before looking at you again with her hand out towards you. No words, just actions being thrown your way. “How gentlewomanly of you” you grinned, placing your hand in hers and a soft gasp slipped past your lips when she pulls you right into her chest. Not even a sheet of paper could fit between you both. Abby didn’t care who was around, and who was going to complain about her dancing with you?

What you both don’t notice is the way Mel suddenly stops her conversation with Owen, who was mindlessly babbling and yapping on about whatever the fuck he was talking about and cocked her head to the side when she spotted you and Abby. How one of her hands was now pressed against your lower back, the other holding onto yours. Yours seemingly comfortably on her shoulder. 

Like you were so used to doing this with her.

“What the fuck are you looking at? I was trying to tell you—” Owens words get cut short when he, still oblivious as usual, turns around when he catches Mel’s stare, one that wasn’t directed at him, and his eyes land on Abby. His girlfriend. Who was way too close to you. Dancing like you weren’t in a room full of people. Like you want people to fucking know. 

He doesn’t even seem to catch the way she looks at you. The small grin on her face that, for you, holds so much more than just an expression. To the way, her fingers flex against your back with each step you make to the sound of the music playing loudly over the speakers. Not to mention, she way she lowers her head, lips grazing the shell of your ear so softly that you almost whimper against her. “This dress, s’pretty. You’re pretty” was all she whispered, and pulled away before you had time to respond. 

Your eyes, without your want, flicker to the people crowding around one of the tablets, and your heart suddenly drops, as does your shy smile when you lock eyes with Owens. A clenched-jawed Owen that looks seconds away from bursting into flames. “Abs,” you couldn’t help but mumble, body and brain refusing to look away from him. “He looks angry”

“We are only dancing. Nothing wrong with that” She growled, not necessarily at you, but at the entire situation. She can’t touch or hold you the way she wants to. Poor girl can’t even say what she’s already thinking, to you, without making a scene. “He’s not gonna do anything.” She states firmly. “He knows this night is important to Joel and Tess, and he knows their happiness is important to me. He won’t do say or anything to you” 

“But what about to you?”

“Then let him.”

By the time the words tumble from her mouth, you’re pulling both your hands away from her when Owen is suddenly making his way towards you both. The warmth and safety you brought Abby, being ripped away from her, had her jaw locking and eye twitching. “Abby” He smiles, although you know it’s fake. 

“What?” Her reply comes out somewhat slightly harsh which has him doing a double take and looking at you with angry eyes, again. Ones you were slightly getting used to already. “We were dancing here, you’re ruining it. Did you want something?”

“Do you want to dance?”

Is he fucking serious?

Blinking away her thoughts repeatedly, Abby can’t help but turn around to face her so-called boyfriend and raise her eyebrow at his question. “You want to dance? Now? After you’ve practically ignored me the entire time, only because m’dancing with someone else?” She didn’t care if her words came out mean and cruel. She only can handle so much. 

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Abs—”

“Sure as fucking hell looked like you were” The blonde growled, the sound of her teeth grinding together had you looking up at her with wide eyes, and before you could comprehend what you were doing, you wrapped your hand around her arm and tugged her. 

“Abby s’okay, let’s just go get some air, okay?” You pushed gently, silently hoping and praying in your head she would take the hint you were throwing and go. “We don’t need to cause a scene at their rehearsal dinner, please”

“What? Are you her guard dog now or something?” Owen can’t stop before the question slips off the tip of his tongue, with a laugh. Not even when Abby’s looking at him like she wants to kill him with her bare hands for simply thinking of such things. “Come on, Abby, i know you like to please people but—”

“But nothing.” Abby was quick to cut him off. “You know nothing”

“Why are you suddenly being such a bitch?”

Abby, who would do anything to snap at someone if she really wanted to, stepped back from Owen and raised an eyebrow at him. “And you wonder why i don’t want to suddenly fucking dance with you. Grow the fuck up, Owen. First, you call me a dog, then you call me a bitch. If anyone’s being a bitch, it’s you because you’re mad we were dancing. Doing nothing wrong” She replied calmly, but the way her hands were twitching at her sides, told you a different story. “i need some fucking air, this room feels like it’s going to suffocate me if i’m near you any longer”

Abby’s walking away before you have time to ask if she’s even okay.

Angrily eyeing up Owen, who’s now looking down at his feet awkwardly before looking over at Mel, somewhat pleading for her to say something, you can’t help but let out a gentle scoff. “Can’t even go and check on your girlfriend to see if she’s alright? What kind of ‘boyfriend’ are you supposed to be? Do we have to pay extra for giving a shit about her?” You laughed. 

“Oh fuck off, this is your fault!” 

You exhaled a deep sigh, his words stinging you in a way that hurt, but you didn’t want to show that it affected you, so you just smiled sarcastically at him. “Go wag your tail to Mel, m’sure she would rather see you than anyone else would, dick breath”

You hadn’t seen the way both of them looked at you like a deer in headlights. 

Abby was hard to find sometimes, most of the time she would disappear so fast that it was like she just went completely invisible. Other times, she would have simply gone home and never left her apartment again, but this was different. She wasn’t at home, and she didn’t know this place like the back of her hand. So surely finding her would be slightly easier.

Luck, or whatever they call it these days, must have been on your side as you found the blonde slumped on one of the benches, jacket crumpled beside her with her head thrown back and sighing deeply. Of all places she could have hidden, she chose to hide in the most obvious place. The fucking garden? “Usually when you’re mad, you’ve already drunk 3 bottles of beer and are having some kind of psychotic break” Your voice rang out, snapping her back into reality. “Are you having a psychotic break?”

“Does it look like m’having a fucking psychotic break?” She laughed. Deep and raspy. A sound that always has your thighs clenching together no matter the place or time.

“You’re pretty good at masking your emotions, so you could be” You shrugged, a small bite in your words as you placed yourself beside her. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Did you come out here just to piss me off? Because if you did, it’s working”

Your eyes found hers, and you couldn’t even stop the way your breath hitched in your throat at the lazy grin plastered on her face. “No, i came to check on you to see if you were okay, but him calling you a dog didn’t bruise your ego that much so i’ll leave if you want?”

Her hand reached out as you moved, her cold and rough ones grabbing onto your arm gently that you gasped at the action and pouted. “No. Stay, don’t leave, m’sorry” She apologized, suddenly feeling too vulnerable and scared. Too open. “M’sorry, i know you don’t have to stay, especially with how i’ve treated you. I don’t want to be here, s’all too much for me to handle. Being close to you, and not being able to do anything is driving me insane. I miss you” Abby admitted, thumb brushing across the skin of your knuckles. “I—I need you”

You don’t see the flicker of vulnerability or hurt in Abby’s eyes, you just look at her, trying to figure out her words. She didn’t expect you to chuckle. “You need me?” You repeated, shaking your head and scoffing. “If you need me, like you say, why do you push me away? Why do you never pick me? Why do you always end up picking a guy who doesn’t give a shit about you? A guy who would rather see you hurt, than happy? What does Owen have that i don’t, Abby?”

“Because m’scared ill fuck this up. Believe it or not, but you’re the only good thing i have, i can’t fuck that up. I can’t fuck you up. Do you think i don’t think about you when i’m with him? Because you’re all i think about, and it drives me nuts because i can’t do anything about it. I want you, i always want you, but i’m terrified you’ll realise i’m just not it. That i’m not enough for you. You’re the only thing i think about, but i don’t want to ruin you or what we have.” 

You create some distance, venturing off down the makeshift isle displayed in the front of the garden. Florals formed in an arch, bigger than you’d ever seen, didn’t really seem like Joel and Tess’ style, but it sure was beautiful. The pops of coral and different tones of pink rooted in a deep green. You find a moment of peace in the silence, not knowing what will be left between the two of you once the secret you’d been holding spills. 

“Abigail…” You take a deep breath trying to muster the courage, hoping it’s buried somewhere beneath you, only needing to be dug out. 

Abby finds her heart dropping when she sees you standing under the arch. She thinks it’s cruel, just a glimpse of a future she wants so desperately but she doesn’t even know where to begin. How can she earn you now? After everything she’s done…is there any redemption to be found? 

“You are ruining us. Each time you tell me you’re leaving but stay with him snuffs out everything we have.” Abby stands wanting to console you, but the look in your eyes keeps her at bay. The tears building in your beautiful eyes, and it’s not that you’re distraught, you’re clearly angry. Frustrated doesn’t even begin to cover the overflow of emotions swarming through you. 

You’re exhausted with co-existing with him, pretending everything is fine and normal. That he’s the one who makes her happy, he’s the one who knows what she wants, what she needs — that he’s the one. 

“Tell me why.” Your tone is firm, hands crossed over as shiver in the crisp air of the spring wind. “Tell me why it’s him and not me.” 

“What?” Abby bites back, her pearly whites grinding into each other as she nearly snarls. “You can’t be serious.” 

Anger starts to swirl beneath the deep pools, the one she hides so well, not even the best could decipher what she hides, all of the sweet nothings she wishes she could speak of but doesn’t. Every time she wants to lash out at Owen for not treating her right but doesn’t. The love she holds yet hides under lock and key. All of it is kept within her, only for her to know and see, but the anger slips. 

It’s evident the moment you tell her — It’s Owen not me. 

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Abby stalks you like you’re her prey, getting closer and closer to you. Your hands are unable to keep still when she’s so close to you, making her overwhelming presence known. You won’t look at her and it pisses her the fuck off to no degree. Why can’t you just see how much she needs you? “After everything. Everything we’ve shared, you’re just gonna stand there, ask me some bullshit like that?” 

You’ve never been the one to have Abby’s anger directed towards you, you’ve witnessed it on others, but never yourself. Was it normal to feel so small against someone you’ve known for years? Against someone who only has to look at you, hold you in their arms, and tell you that everything is okay?

“Then why can’t you just—”

“It’s always been you!” Abby shouts, her voice so loud that the birds, who were calmly in their nests, flutter and fly away. “So what else do you want me to fucking do?!”

That was your final nail in the coffin.

“I want you to choose me. I want you to want me the way I want you. I don’t want to be someone you only want when he’s not around. To be first. M’not fucking asking you for much, Abigail. Just to be the first in your life. That’s all.”

“You know it’s not that easy”

“It’s never fucking easy with you” You scowled, eyes fluttering and watching her abruptly turning away from you. Even if you’ve known her for years, she was cautious of who saw her like this. Or cautious whenever it came to her emotions. She didn’t want to be seen as weak. Tonight though, tonight you didn’t care what you said or did, you just wanted her to listen. Which is why you struggled to keep your mouth shut as she walked away. “Do you really think Owen gives a single fuck about you when he’s too busy shoving his tongue down Mel's throat like she’s some kind of hydration?” 

If you didn’t know Abby as well as you did, you would have cowered at the way her body halted in her steps, turned around slowly, and even from the distance between you both, you could see how tight she was clenching her jaw. “Excuse me?”

“Abby that’s not—”

“No.” She laughed, more so dryly as she shook her head. “Open that fucking mouth and repeat what you said. C’mon, remember when i tell you to use your words? Yeah, fucking use them then. Say it again” She’s in front of you again before you can blink, unsure of how she even moved that fast. “Don’t hold back now, you want my attention? You got it. Come on”

“Abby, please i didn’t mean to say that” You frowned, fumbling with the ring on your finger nervously. “M’sorry”

“You’re sorry? You’re asking me to pick between you both even though you kept this entire thing to yourself? You knew this entire time and you what? Thought if i admitted how much i want you, i wouldn’t be as hurt when you told me? Use that pretty head of yours, you’re not fucking stupid, of course, it would fucking hurt me”

“M’sorry—”

“But you’re not.” Abby laughed. “You’ve been fine keeping it from me. If you were sorry, you would have told me, no?”

“It’s not like we are perfect either. Look at what we’re doing. We’re just as bad!”

“But that never stopped you coming over late at night and begging me to fuck you, did it? Never once complained when i had you on my bed, fucked out your brain, did you? If it was so bad, you would have stayed away. If this entire thing was bad, you would have told me to fuck off, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t have kept pulling me along if it was so bad. So no, you’re not sorry, you’re just sorry that you got caught and your big mouth let me know what’s happening.”

“Abby—”

“Don’t you dare start crying right now” She’s warning, looking at you angrily. If looks could kill, she would have already killed you by now. “I was going to break up with him, you know? After Joel and Tess had their wedding. I was going to do everything to make it special for us, and then— then you had to go and fucking do this” She scoffed, stepping away from you. “It’s always been you, you fucking know that, and i would have fucking broken up with him if you gave me a little more time”

You can feel your heart slowly breaking as you just watch Abby move away from you. “Abby, please, we can talk about this!” You pleaded, taking a couple of steps, trying to reach her. “We can talk about it, we can, please”

But she doesn’t stop. Not even when the sounds of your cries fill her ears. Something she would always do. Always stopping if you’re upset or hurt. She just leaves, not even looking back, with the faintest. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

—

After spending several hours crying in the garden, staring at the stupid floral arch, one that you couldn’t help but picture Abby and you underneath. All the countless nights spent together, seeing a future in her eyes, now it seems hopeless. In the heat of your despair, you revealed the tight lipped secret you’d been holding, ruining everything. In her eyes you can still see it, the betrayal and hurt, but not from who she expected it from. 

You have a craving building, wondering what she’s thinking, and if she really meant what she said. Even if she says it’s always been you, saying it is one thing, actually standing behind those words is another entirely. Pathetically, you stayed there, crossing your fingers behind your back as you awaited her return but she never came. You truly, royally, fucked things up. 

It didn’t stop from the anger rolling off you as well as the anguish. You never wanted her to know that you knew about his extra curricular activities. The selfish part of you; the one that seems to win mostly, you wanted her to pick you because she loves you, not to be a second choice or just a side piece of ass. 

Barefoot and heartbroken, you wander back to the lobby of the hotel, just to find Mel and Owen together so impossibly close with each other at the bar you wonder why Owen and Abby even bother staying together. It’s so clear, to anyone else with eyes, they are just wrong. Neither of them fit the way you’re supposed to when you love someone, when you actually care about the other person, yet she wants to savor his feelings for what reason? You weren’t sure you would ever understand why Abby did the things she did. 

The only person Abby trusted is herself. Hiding behind the mask she fronts, never fully letting anyone into the feelings brewing inside her but leaving her ultimately — empty. 

Begrudgingly, you decide to take a shot of tequila, basking in your lost hope before making your way to your hotel room. 

You aren’t walking that long before you can feel the pain in the heels of your feet, the shoes you picked for tonight slowly becoming a bad idea, as you spot your room. Reaching into your bag, the strap slowly falling off your shoulder, you grumbled softly under your breath when you didn’t feel the small thin key card that you knew you had earlier and instantly slumped your forehead against the wooden door. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You mutter to yourself. 

Deep in your own head, you don’t notice Abby sluggishly yet tiredly making her way down the corridor, unaware you were mumbling and cursing to yourself as you simply grabbed and shook the door handle with so much anger that you’re surprised it didn’t break.

“Oh, fuck you, you stupid fucking door!” Your foot collided with the door, annoyance spiraling from within you, the yelling and action had you gaining the attention from none other than Abby herself. Did you want it? Yes, but did you want it when she was angry? You weren’t sure. 

“You’re not supposed to kick the door, you know?” She couldn’t help but mutter, watching you struggle with an amused smile on her lips. 

“Be grateful m’not kicking you.” 

She laughs, or you think she laughs, and hummed at your obvious struggle. Your threat not affecting her as much as you wanted it to. “Did you lose it?”

“Did i lose it?” You repeated, hand gripping the handle tighter with a clenched jaw. “Do you really think i’m the kind of person to lose a fucking key card?”

“You tell me, you can’t get into your room, it seems like you did lose it” Abby points out the most obvious thing before sighing softly under her breath. “Or you wouldn’t be stuck out here.”

Turning your head quickly at her words, you growled at her and glared in her direction. “Would it make you happy if i admit that yes, i fucking lost my key card?”

“It might.” Abby chuckled, tongue clicking against the side of her cheek in amusement again. You notice that glint in her eyes again, the same one you’ve seen countless times in those baby blues, but she doesn’t say much, not that she has to. “You can uh, stay in my room, if you want?”

Are you hearing her correctly?

“You want me to stay in your room? Didn’t you say you couldn’t stand looking at me anymore?” 

“That’s not—” She’s pausing, running her hand over her face in frustration. “I don’t— this is just hard for me, okay? Can you try to reason with me?”

“M’trying, but every time i try to, you throw it back in my face. You throw it in my face like this entire situation is my fault.” You found her stepping closer, not that you noticed seconds prior, but as you get your words out, you notice she’s listening. “I just want you to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That I just want to be yours, and it hurts that you don’t understand, or you do and would rather me not think of you like that, which just hurts even more.” You sighed, finally looking at her. “I want to love you the way you deserve, but you won’t let me” 

“S’not that i don’t want you to, i don’t deserve you.” Abby chokes out, every emotion and feeling, that she’s tried to keep buried deep, finally creeping up on her. “I’ve never deserved you, you deserve better than me. You always have”

“Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?” 

“I don’t want you to make the wrong one. I’m the wrong decision for you.”

Her words, ones that cut deep, have you frowning and shaking your head, like you don’t want to believe her. She’s always been hard on herself, especially when it comes to love, thinks that she doesn’t deserve it. Everyone does, and you know that she’s trying. “You are the only right decision i’ve ever made.” Your body was closer to hers, she could smell the soft perfume, almost the smell of the scented lipgloss you chose for tonight. “You are worth it, and it kills me that you don’t see it. You don’t see that under all the anger, all the feelings, everything you build up to protect yourself, you just want to feel safe. You will always be safe with me. You are perfect, i just want you to let me show you just how perfect you are. Especially to me.”

Your words struck something in her brain, thoughts going a little too fast her to keep up with, but that doesn’t stop her from wrapping her hand around your wrist, and tugging you closer to her, face quickly burying in the crook of your neck, something she does each time she’s alone with you, and the feeling of her nose brushing against the collum of your throat seconds later has you softly sighing and threading your fingers through the loose strands of hair. “Let me show you.” You whispered, gripping her jacket tightly. “Please let me show you.”

Abby lets you push her towards her bedroom door, still holding each other just as tight while her hand slipped into the soft fabric of her pocket. “Would you just let me—” Abby curses under her breath as she attempts to fish out her hotel card. You have her pushed against the door with your weight, keeping her pinned by your pelvis. 

“I should let you do whatever you want? Like you’ve been so nice to me, right?” Pulling her by the navy blue tie, swollen lips ghosting over hers, she whimpers like a bitch in heat. You give her everything, anything and everything she wants, you so graciously provided but she’s been thoughtless. Careless with how you’ve felt. It’d be so easy for her to push you off, pick you up and toss her on her shoulder before throwing you on the bed and having her way with you. 

But she likes this. 

Knowing she’s in the wrong, underneath your mercy, begging for an inch of your good graces. Abby’s practically salivating, begging to have you in her mouth, wanting to have the everlasting taste of you. Hell, she knows she shouldn’t but she thinks of you every time Owen kisses her. She wonders if he can taste your cum on her lips. After the first time, she wondered if he could clock the crimson of her cheeks, the flush she still was feeling from squirting for the first time. The thighs she could barely keep still, a proper effort made in order to keep herself up. 

You’re the first and only to even want to have the power over, she enjoys it — sure as hell gets off to it. 

“Answer me.” Your grip on her chin is iron, her blue eyes pouting as her posture slouched. 

“I haven’t been nice. I know that. I’ve been making you wait too long.” Abby shudders as your dress slips higher, as she gets lost in the exposed cleavage.

“Abby, babygirl, my eyes are up here.” Her eyes pick up to find you cold gaze, but there’s warmth. Dripping like golden honey and she wishes for it to fall on every inch of her body just so you can reclaim it as your own. She wants to feel your lips, your tongue, whatever the fuck you’ll give her, Abby craves it.  

“I know, m’sorry, it’s just—” Your hands smooth over her toned torso, the crisp button up feel smooth under your touch, but it’s thin enough for Abby to feel your magnetic touch, but you stop at her breasts. 

“He doesn’t touch you anymore, does he?” Abby shakes her head furiously. In this moment, she’s thankful she opted out of a bra tonight. Teasingly, run over the fabric, back and forth as she feels the bud pebble against your touch. Tortuously, Abby’s breath only begins to grow heavier and you’ve barely even done a thing to get her where she needs to be. 

“Fuck—” You begging to pull at the braid, undoing her long blonde locks, making them accessible for you to pull on whenever she decides to she doesn’t want to be teased any longer. “No, he doesn’t. Never like this, hasn’t touched me, made me feel like this, ever. Just you.” 

“That’s right, babygirl. You always need to come back to me. Can’t get your fill elsewhere, or be filled. He can’t do much with the poor little pathetic excuse of a cock.” You let go of her chin before whispering in her ear, “Need me so deep in this pretty pussy of yours. Even those precious long fingers of yours can’t hit as deep as me.” 

It’s then you reach in her left pocket, opening the hotel room with her key card. “C’mon, you owe me a favor, or two…..maybe even three.” You claim her lips as your own, she belongs to you whether she wants to admit it or not. 

“I think I need a reminder from last time.” 

Abby smirks, a soft smile falling over her pink lips, she leads you into the room. Her own personal siren, one word from your lips and she’ll do anything you want. Abby only has the door locked and by the time she turns around, your dress pools at your feet. 

“Shit—” Abby curses, you’re playing fucking dirty. You know she can’t be up here too long, Owen’s expectant of her to return, or so she thinks. 

“You’re killing me, angel.” 

Mouth practically salivating, at the sight of your nearly bare silhouette, the moonlight coming through the balcony accentuating every curve, your skin glowing as you wait for her to move. Abby’s contemplating, trying to decide what she wants to do first. 

She gets lost in her head, replaying tonight’s events in her head, how she couldn’t keep her cool, not even in front of her boyfriend. The thought of you with someone else too unbearable for her to bear, the incessant need she has instilled within her to be close to you. 

“That’s the point but stop suffering, babygirl.” Using her favorite thing to your advantage, you bend over the edge of the bed. Emphasizing the curve of your spin. The seconds the words fell from between your lips, you didn’t think she heard them at first, not with them being so gentle and soft. It wasn’t until you shivered, and sucked in a deep breath when her fingers ran up and down your back, nails lightly scratching your skin that you smiled into your arms. “Abs— oh” You gasped, body tensing at the feeling of her pushing her leg between your legs, pressing the rough material of her pants against your cunt, the fabric of the bedsheet rubbing against you too, adding to the mix.

“Shh,” She leaned down and whispered against your ear. “Bet you’re so fucking wet, hm?” She hummed, softness gone right out the window, still trailing her fingers up and down your back. A devious smirk appeared on her lips at the way you shamelessly tried to grind against her leg. “Can’t even wait, can you?” Her leg pushed harder on your cunt, eliciting a louder moan from between your lips. “That’s too bad, you can’t have whatever you want right now” She cooed mockingly, eyeing up the way your hands gripped the sheet below you, so tight she was worried you were going to hurt yourself. “Gonna let me eat your sweet pussy? Let me show you how much i want you?”

Just like that, you’re putty in her skilled hands. 

“Y—Yes, please, need you” You choked out, quickly nodding your head at whatever she was saying to you. You weren’t entirely sure, all you know is that you need her. Her hands, ones that you always love to have all over you, slip down and grip your hips. The action had you whimpering into the pillow, turning your head slightly to get a better look at her. The sight of her behind you, on her knees, licking her lips had yours parting. “Abby, please, want it, want you” You sighed.

“Be patient, brat” Abby scoffed, squeezing your ass in both her hands. “Don’t make me shove your panties in your mouth to get you to shut the fuck up.” There was no true intention of doing so, behind her words, she loved hearing what she did to you. Maybe a little too much. “You’ve been so bad tonight, do you deserve me to eat your pussy, hm?”

“M’sorry, i am” You sniffled, spreading your legs a little wider, tempting her in a way. Knowing she can’t get enough of you. “Please, i’ll be so good, your good girl”

“Yeah?” She hummed, mouth watering at the sight of your cunt. Folds glistened before her as she sunk her teeth into one of your asscheeks, humming at the soft gasp she pulled from you. “You’re gonna be my good girl, s’that right?” She mocked, fingers slipping between your legs, and brushing against your clit. The choked whimper you let out had her grinning against your skin, lightly rubbing circles on your bud and holding you down on the bed with her free hand. “You’re not lying?”

“No” Your words came out muffled from burying your face in the sheets, but your head shake was enough for her to understand. “M’not lying, i’ll be so good for you, i promise” You added. Fingers gripping the white sheet tighter when she’s rubbing harder circles. “Just need you to, to fuck me, please”

You’re flinching, body shaking in her hold when out of nowhere she’s spitting a glob of spit on your cunt, growling at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing at such a small action that she knows you love. “I’ll decide when i fuck you” Was all she said, using the pad of her thumb and pressing against your second hole, smiling at your soft oh. 

Her lips part, as do yours with a moan that has her stomach fluttering and cunt clenching around nothing when she lightly dips her thumb into your hole, your cunt begging for attention as a hum ripped through her throat. “Fuck, knew you would love it too much” She groaned, watching the tight muscle hug her thumb effortlessly. “Yeah, i know” Abby mocked.

“Fuck, Abby, please”

“What are you even begging for?” She scoffed, a small bite in her question, fingers finding your neglected clit and laughing at your loud whine into the pillow when she continued her slow circles. “Just a needy slut, aren’t you?”

“Your needy slut” You whispered, looking down at her and shuddering at the feeling of her slowly rubbing at your clit, and sinking her thumb more into your ass. The sensation had moans and whimpers tearing from your throat. You pushed back against her, absentmindedly that is, and gasped loudly when her hand landed a light slap on your pussy. 

“Stop moving.” She warned with a growl. “You’re gonna take what i give you, and if i think you deserve more, you’ll get it” Abby scoffed, smirking at the sight of you burying your face more into the pillows, the messy sheet as you nodded quickly, without shame, and licked your swollen lips. “This is what you needed, hm? Getting your holes stuffed so you would shut the fuck up” 

Her words, mean ones at that, that you were used to hearing, has your face heating up, not a single ounce of shame in your body, just pride and need. Whenever Abby would get mean, yes, you were mortified the first time it happened during sex and how wet you had become, but now? she uses it to her advantage. As much as she would like. She had your body under control, and she didn’t even have to do anything to reduce you to such a whimpering, pathetic mess under her. 

The swipe of her thumb, a gentle touch, against your clit had you letting out a squeal, jolting on the bed and your eyes slowly started rolling in the back of your head. It was sinful, so sinful at how she was able to do this. Touch you with the lightest touches and have you pleading for more. Abby’s lips parted, almost salivating at the sight of you clenching around her thumb, a silent plea as to say more. Which is why she doesn’t expect the whimper that claws at your skin and rips out of your throat when she’s pulling away completely. The feeling of being almost full, not as much as you wanted, to be taken from you. 

“Abs? What—”

“You get both holes filled when you’re good,” Abby tutted, fake cooing at your pleads, one she’s so used to hearing coming from you. “Gonna start crying because m’not giving you what you want? Yeah? Gonna start saying you’ve been good enough? We both know that’s a lie, baby”

Are you crying? You weren’t sure, nor did you care, but with how Abby was dancing her fingers dangerously close to where you need her, you might burst into flames if she didn’t hurry up. “You like it when i cry for you” Comes one of your usual quipped replies. The undertone of brattiness doesn’t go unnoticed by Abby.

But what you miss is the way she clenches her jaw, her eyes harden, and how she’s quick to land a strike on your ass. Your body only gets so far up the bed with a whine before she’s leaning hers over you, hands pinning your hips to the bed and she grazes the shell of your ear with her lips. The harshness of her breath hitting your face had you trying to push back against her. Trying to get something. “Such a dirty fuckin slut” Abby scoffed, sinking her nails into your skin and sure to be bruised in the morning. “You like making it harder for yourself? You want me to punish you?”

“You know all your punishments just make me wetter for you,” Your voice wavers, breathing slightly more ragged as her body presses down harder on you. “Makes me want you to fuck me harder. Want you to fuck me like you’ve missed me.”

“Oh,” Her laugh is one of mocking. You were so used to it that it didn’t make you snappy at her anymore, but it still sent a shiver down your spine when it was directed at you, and you alone. “I do miss you, but m’not gonna just let you get away with being a fucking brat to me tonight because i miss you.”

“But why? Don’t you wanna fuck me, Abby?” You feigned innocence, turning your head enough for her to see the small pout on your lips that you were sporting. “Because i want you to fuck me, fill me up like i know you can. Make me cum in ways only you know how. You fuck me so good, Abby, please, please. I know you wanna fuck into this mattress, Baby”

Abby whimpers. 

Sounds that are only reserved for your ears, and yours alone.

You’ll make sure of it. 

She whimpers pathetically above you at your words, the blood rushes to her head and she can feel the wetness pooling between her legs the longer you try pushing yourself up against her, grinding against her shamelessly. “Wanna fuck every single thought outta your pretty head so bad” She growls into your neck, everything inside her crumbling as you both just sluttily grind against each other. 

“Then stop talking about it and fucking do it.” You spit. A noise so animalistic, you’re not sure you have ever heard it fall from her lips. With an entirely new level of greed, she claims your lips as her own, velvet tongue dominating yours as you can feel yourself practically melting. “God, can’t wait for you to shut the fuck up.” Abby mumbles against your lips. Her fingers undo the knot in her tie, releasing it from her collar as she holds both of your wrists with one, feeling the cool metal frame piercing your skin. 

“Is this what you want?” Abby begins to bind your wrists to the bed, her thumb smoothing over skin gently as she tightens the silk fabric against you. “You should be grateful I’m not blind folding you. We both know you deserve it after tonight.” You laugh, manically. Watching the pleasure in her blues rise, she likes you under her will as she takes what she wants. 

“Should I be grateful? You’re not fucking me yet…are you?” You tilt your head to the side as Abby removes herself completely, the friction of her trousers evades your cunt, leaving you nothing to grind against. With a smirk as wide as you’ve ever seen, she slowly removes her belt, slipping off her shoes as she throws the black belt on the floor. 

“You just don’t know when to shut your mouth, do you? I have something that will.” Her voice lowers an octave as she spills the threat from her pink lips, slowly removing each article of clothing. Her button up shirt is first, leaving her topless in front of you, chiseled abdomen defined as she flexes her abs further. “Would you hurry up, Anderson?” 

The more your hips buck into thin air, the wider her smirk gets. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, boss.” Abby salutes you, having to disguise the laughing bubbling from her lips. The look you give her is deadly, trying to pull at the tie but to no avail you're stuck, under the mercy of whatever Abigail Anderson wants. The terror in your eyes furthers the slickness in Abby’s boxers but she needs to focus. You are right where she wants you, with no intention of letting you have any satisfaction at the moment. 

Maybe later if Anderson is feeling kind. 

She slowly slides her trousers off, leaving her in just her boxers, your eyes focused on her glorious, blonde happy trail falling in the fabric. Concealed and out of your grip. “You must be really frustrated if you’re saying Anderson, huh? Mhm, that’s too bad. You could have been sitting on my face by now, angel.” She tsks, her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth as she does so. 

“M’fine. Not frustrated at all, Anderson.” 

“No?” Abby simply nods, putting the weight of her knee on the bed, her face tucked in the crook of your neck as she whispers in your ear, “Why don’t we put that to the test?” She bites on your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly. The only inkling of your sweet abby, the abby you love, but she leaves just as quickly as she came. 

Without warning, she slaps your cunt, hard. 

The sensation has you wanting to reach for her, pulling at the tie again, but you’re rendered useless. Your body quivers, her finger runs up your pussy, thumbing your clit so lightly it should be considered an unforgivable sin. Once you think she’ll move on, torture you in some other way, Abby decides to have fun and slap your clit this time, gasping the name you only call her in the bedroom. A name just reserved for the two of you. 

“Already, babygirl? That’s not very…boss of you.” Abby licks the side of your neck, letting her teeth sink in delicately, you groan in response to her teasing words. “Would you stop calling me that, oh my fucking g—” 

You feel two of her thick fingers protrude your dripping hole, sliding in with ease, “Stop calling you what? God? Never gonna let you forget I’m the only one who fucks like one.” She’s slow about it, wanting you to get just enough where it feels good, but not nearly enough to where you crave to be. Pitiful whines are all the evidence she needs, a token of your temporary agony is enough to satisfy her until you break. 

“You’re such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” 

“Just an asshole who knows how to fuck your ass.” Abby can’t stop teasing you, not when you’re bucking up your hips into her fingers, moaning like a bitch in heat for more. The both of you know there’s no getting out of this unless you tell her what she wants. 

“Abby, please.” You beg, the confession comes too soon, but Abby grins wide as she pulls her face out of her neck. “Thought my name was Anderson, boss?” Unpleasantly, you roll your eyes but she still looks very pleased with herself. 

“Say my fucking name. You know what I want.” With her fingers nearly knuckle deep, she pushes further, kissing your g-spot. “So pretty baby, sounds so pretty. Stop being a stupid, stubborn slut, yeah? You’re already so wet for me. Don’t you hear yourself?” She fucks you harder as you grind against her fingers, meticulously adding in a third finger. 

“Listen to your soaking cunt. You can be a brat, tell me how much you don’t need, but she’s always gonna sell you out, huh? Do you hear the sweet sound of your pussy, babygirl?” You nod helplessly, nearly fully succumbing into the ruthless thrust of her skilled fingers. “Then tell me, what’s my name?” 

Finally, you decide to cave in. 

“Daddy, please—” With those words, Abby releases her fingers from your pussy, causing you to whimper in distress. “Abby! What the fuck!” 

“What? You think I would let you have it after you’ve been a brat. I know you’re easily drunk on me, very easily, but I’m not feeling so generous right now.” Abby slips off the bed once again, her boxers coming off her body, allowing you to see her fully as she slips off her socks. “Time to show you who is the boss, baby.” 

For the third time, you pull at the tie. Once again. you’re stuck. 

“What are you talking about?” The confusion laced all over your face, watching as you climbed on the bed, finally naked and exposed, just the sight you’ve been wishing to see all night. 

“Show me why I let you fuck me and not Owen.” Abby perches her ass on your face, claiming the seat she’s always owned since the moment the two of you met. Abby really doesn’t give you much time to even take a moment to check out the ass you love so much before she’s suffocating you with her pussy. Fuck her for bringing Owen, even if he ever wanted to eat her out, he didn’t have the skill for it. 

She knows that, you know it too, but it leaves you eager to prove just how much she likes it when she’s riding your face. Not his, yours. She’s careful enough not to completely crush you, her hand smoothing over your stomach, blunt nails clawing at your skin as you act starved of her. You had been wanting her all night, but this would be enough, even if you remained untouched, knowing you made her cum would be enough until Abby wants to play nice. 

The blonde stays quiet for a bit, even when she’s enjoying it, your tongue rolling on her cunt, she begins to find a rhythm, moving her hips in a pace she likes, taking as she pleases. But you know just how to surprise, even if she’s neutralized your hands, you know what your girl likes. 

Tilting your head back just a little, giving you enough distance to spit on her cunt, her pink folds glistening more, her body shudders as a moan escapes. A curse of your name spoken before Abby can stop herself. 

“Shut up—” Abby starts to murmur off but you spit again, causing her entire body to shudder against your body, but you don’t hold back. Being extra obnoxious for her as you make your ministrations loud, moaning into her soaked cunt, letting your tongue circle around her clit as you suck the bundle of nerves in your mouth. 

“God, feels s’good, can’t stop fucking your pretty face.” Abby almost fully seats herself, your attacks on her clit have her seeing stars. The soft build in her stomach is more than she can handle, she’ll cum soon if she’s not careful. 

So, she decides to level the playing field. 

She bends over completely, burying her face in your soaking cunt. She decides to be torturous, blowing on your lower lips, enjoying the way you shudder. Hips continue to buck into her face immediately, desperate to be eaten. She giggles. Even if you are making her feel like she might explode at any given moment, Abby knows you are so much worse. She knows your swollen clit must be pulsating, aching for an ounce of attention, a swipe of her tongue, a light brush of her fingers — something. 

“Mhm, such a pretty pussy, baby.” Abby kissing your inner thighs, getting so close to where you need her to be, but not quite to where you want her. “How bad do you want me to fuck your cunt?” She grins as you whimper, but you know better than to stop eating her out. 

“Good girl.” Abby praises you as she runs a finger up your slit, feeling just how wet you are, thighs softly twitching as she sinks a finger into your hole, finding satisfaction in how tightly you’re clenching around her. Thumb swiping at your clit, “See what happens when you’re good.” 

Abby wastes no time, not a single moment, her mouth pouncing on you with no further warning. A shriek rips out from the back of your throat, the vibration against her pussy sends a shiver down her spine. She’s slow with the movement of her tongue, sliding it between your folds, flicking it against your clit until she’s wrapping her lips around the bud, and sucking hard. 

The whines and whimpers she’s always so greedy to hear tumbling from between your lips is muffled by her cunt, almost banished from making it’s way into the room as she curls her fingers just enough to have your lips sucking on Abby’s clit harder. A certain kitten lick of your tongue on her clit has her head falling forward against the pillow with a guttural moan. The sound has you clenching tightly around the long thick fingers she’s slowly working deeper in your pussy.

“Knew your mouth was fucking slutty,” Abby shivered, hips jerking up and trying to grind harder against your mouth. A mouth that she would die without. “S’good, keep it up, you can do that, can’t you?” She mocked, knowing you have no room to say anything. Not when you were eating her out like she would be your last meal. 

“It’s a shame isn’t it? That you can’t even use your fingers this time. Know how much you like to make me cum on them, maybe next time, hm?” Abby taunted, using the tip of her tongue, sliding it up and down your inner thighs, collecting your slick in her wake. The taste of you on the muscle had her eyes rolling in the back of her head, pressing her thumb against your clit and rubbing the slowest yet dangerous circles. Enjoying the way you tremble above her. “Awh, so close already? Barely fucking touched you.” 

Her words have you whining into her cunt, humming around her clit and the blood rushes to her head at the obscene, loud sounds of you lapping at her pussy messily. Her slick runs down your chin, a sight she’s seen hundreds of times before when you’re between her legs, and drops down onto her legs and bedsheet. “Don’t have to see you to know you’re messy” She growled from below you, curling her fingers against that spot deep inside you perfectly, grinning lazily when your legs clench around her head. “Yeah, I know you love it, angel.” You can already picture her fucking smirk without having to look at her. Abby was cocky, and she sure as hell knew how to make you a trembling mess at all her touches. No matter if you were tied up or not.

Sucking softly at her clit, you hummed deliciously when her thighs twitched, hips still grinding up against your mouth, fucking herself shamelessly on your tongue. “That’s a good girl, wanna make me cum so bad, don’t you?” Another mock fell from between her lips. “I feel bad i tied you up, would love your fingers deep in my pussy right now” She sighed, fucking her fingers in and out of your pussy at a pace that isn’t enough to make you cum, like you wanted, but enough to have you whining and on the edge of something she was willing to give you if you behaved. 

It’s when her fingers deliciously slide in your cunt, rubbing at the certain spot that has your body going limp within seconds, that she’s spent hours brutally hitting with her cock, that you’re crying out around her clit, the sound still slightly muffled but you somewhat find movement and ground down against her fingers. “So fucking needy.” The blonde murmured, wrapping one of her arms around your hips and keeping you still above her as the pace of her fingers picked up again. “You want my fingers that bad? Fine, I'll give you them.”

You barely have time to understand what she means, because she crooks her fingers in a way that has you pulling away from her cunt, the growl she lets out makes your legs crush your head entirely, yours resting on her ass, unable to focus on anything but her fingers stuffing you full. 

“Do you feel it, baby?” Abby doubles down on her efforts, thumb swiping at your clit, fingers so deep as she fucks against your grinding hips. “Just like that. Is my pretty girl close? Gonna show me what a good girl you are and cum for daddy?” 

“Please, shit shit shit, Abby—” The curses continue to tumble from your lips, one after the other they fall, a lovely melody falling on Abby’s ear as it supplies her with the last effort she needs. The desperate cry from her lover’s mouth, the brat disappearing for the time being, all that’s left is the woman she loves so intensely crying for relief. The only thing she wishes is to see you. Bright eyed, struggling to keep them open or your canines sinking into your lips so harshly you pull at your chapped lip, drawing blood as you attempt to hold yourself together. Most of all she wonders if she has you so close to the edge, so incredibly close the tears are beginning to well up in your eyes. 

But she doesn’t get to see any of it, so she’ll have to settle for the weeping sight of your cunt rather than your eyes. Abby’s not sure which one she loves more at the moment. 

“C’mon, want you to paint my face in your cum. Can you do that? I know you haven’t wanted to obey tonight, but can you do this one thing for me?” You feel one of her fingers tease your puckered hole, using the slick coating her finger to tease the sensitive hole while she fucks the other. “Been begging for it, yeah? So, give it to me.” You feel her fingers teasing your cervix as you finally give in. 

Every bone in your body submits to her, as it always does, you become hers as she claims in a way anyone else fails to do. It’s just the two of you, even if you’re unable to see her blissed out dilated blues, drunk on your cunt. The way she soothes you with her fingers, gently fucking you through your high, giving you just the right amount. 

Then it’s there. 

The slight gush squirting out of you and onto her face. Abby smiles wickedly and she immediately laps at your pussy. Obnoxiously and loudly, she makes a theatrical performance of it, making sure you can hear every suck she makes as she creates a makeshift funnel into her mouth, not being able to control herself. Sweetly, she doesn’t allow a single drop go to waste. 

“Feel s’good Abby, I can’t—” Your body softens as you ride the end of your high. Abby can feel your breath on her cunt, sending a shiver up her spine. 

“Shh, I know, I got you.” Abby sweetly remarks, her tongue moving gently and sweetly as she’s unable to stop herself from pushing you through, her fingers fucking you until you’re spent.

Slowly, yet tiredly, once Abby’s had her fun, you press more of your weight on her, head resting comfortably on her toned thighs as you try to catch your breath. With the help of Abby rubbing your back slowly, you smiled into her skin and sighed. 

Exhausted of not being able to touch her, you free yourself from the tie minutes later, ripping it into two, but she pins with the strength of her arms. Quick to hold you down, even when you want to move, Abby does it faster than you can comprehend. She licks the remainder of your cum with her tongue, savoring every last bit, enjoying the shake of your thighs. Abby slaps your cunt, you moan out her name, still sensitive from the earth-shattering orgasm you’d been given. 

Abby is sporting a grin so sinister, you believe it nearly rivals a succubus closing in on it’s prey. Shifting her position, her pelvis against yours, her blond bush prickling your pussy, but she’s too strong for you to move underneath her muscular frame — leaving no room for debate. Sparkling, golden waves falling over her shoulder, freckles littered across her body as if they were her own galaxy being created, a universe unique to her. Every inch of her is more exquisite than the next, you don’t understand anyone who doesn’t appreciate her as the beautiful, loving, angel she is. She should never be treated as anything but. You want to give her the world, everything good in the world she deserves, and you hope it’s not too late for her to see it just as you do. 

Doesn’t hurt she fucks like her life depends on it. 

“You gonna be good for me and fucking take it?” Abby shifts your legs so it lays over her shoulder, lazily spitting on your pussy, enjoying the soft sigh escaping your body. It’s evil, maniacal even, torturing you like this but you can’t help but buck your hips. Trying to chase the high, she’d just given you. 

“So eager. Even after I made you come all over my face. Greedy baby.” Abby slaps your cunt once again, she takes pleasure in the way your body twitches, convulsing for more. The way you’re moving your hips, needing her to give you what she knows you’ve needed. Too stubborn, too selfish, and too fucking horny to stay away from the chiseled greek goddess. 

“Do you wanna feel my clit on yours baby? Is this what you want?” Abby moves her hips forward as she hikes your leg further on her toned shoulder. “You wanna feel how wet I am for you? Mhm, s’what you’ve been needing, just me and my cunt on yours. It’s all a filthy whore needs. Isn’t that right?” 

“Abby, baby, yes. That. Fuck, you’re so perfect.” 

“That’s right, I’m fucking perfect.” Abby gives you one thrust, enjoying the soft bounce of your tits, head half-craned and slumped against the headboard as you’re rendered helpless under her strong weight. The euphoric bliss you’re offered when she decides to be generous and over a steady pace. 

Small, pierced nipples harden as she continues her ministrations, she feels every nerve ending of her body on fire. Even if she enjoys you teasing with her, acting like you’re in control, calling the shots, this is where you belong. A needy whore begging for more of her. This time it’s her cunt you need, her dripping and weeping pussy connecting with your own. You need to feel how wet she is, both of your clits rubbing against each other. The bundle of nerves colliding together over, and over, and over. Abby’s slick mixed with your own, so much you can feel is dripping near your puckered hole, unexplored territory you know you’d let her explore. 

Abby see’s the red markings on your stomach, her being the maker of the scratches, too blissed out to control herself. She traces them with a delicate hand, a silent apology for being too rough with you. Something physical, tangent even, on how you make her feel. If she’s being honest with herself, you’re the only one who makes her feel anything. It’s why she comes back to you, even when the little angel on her shoulder tells her she shouldn't, that it’s wrong. When the guilt threatens to eat her alive, she sees your smile, hears your laugh that would put a symphony to shame. Better yet, she still has the privilege to make you feel good. To try and do everything in her power to make you feel as great as you make her feel. 

But you don’t know any of it. 

This. You. Her. All of it may be fleeting. She might not choose you. This might be a short fling before she ties the knot with this stupid man she claims she’ll leave. You can’t put your money on it, but you’ll bet on her thinking about you for the rest of her life if she wishes to stay with a man. One that will never deserve her. 

Owen will never know Abby the way you do and you’ll do anything you can to make her see it. 

“You are. Everything about you is perfect. Those beautiful blues I wanna get lost in for hours. The lips I never want to leave me. The hands I want on me all the time, the ones I think about whenever I’m alone and I don’t have you there to fuck me.” You spill out, causing Abby to become over eager to please, her hips thrusting harder against yours, chasing the feeling she feels building within her. 

She whimpers, again. 

You’ve lost count on how many have left her tonight. It’s the hope you’re clinging onto. The vulnerability she never lets leak but tonight she does. Never has she been so vocal about what she wants, but after tonight’s fight, the threat of you leaving, Abby’s desperate to keep you. Even if wants to pretend like she’s in control, the look on those worrisome pools of blue tells you something different. 

“Feesl, s’good, shit.” Abby’s blissed out face, head thrown back as she sinks into the feeling. With a clenched jaw, she grinds down into your pussy, her swollen clit pulsating, feeling your cum gravitate towards her cunt. As if this is what it was meant for, you, her — destined to find another. 

Again. Again. Again. 

Her pale skin becomes flush, rises of pink and red expands on her toned chest, her abs clenching causing each ridged lined more defined as she fucks you into another dimension. She coaxes you into her warm, slippery pussy like it’s a lion’s den. The cage is meant to keep you in, designed to never be released from the sharp canines breaking into your skin, the claws she’s managed to dig in, the strength she exhibits each time she stalks you like her prey. 

The false pretenses, the way she fluffs you with small affections, begging to be petted and played with but then tears at the skin she helped heal. Even if it leaves you bloody, clenching your chest to find one final breath, the appetite for her never ceases to exist. When she draws the last drop of blood from your veins, you’ll thank her with a gleeful smile. 

Deeply, you want Abby to feel this lush high, this euphoric feeling rushing to her head, making her impossibly drunk on you as she cries out for more, you want her to feel every bit of it knowing he’ll never give this to her. He’s a fool in the eyes of goddesses alike, a simple servant to keep her in a mediocre rise of security. A placeholder, a pathetic one at that. Too incredibly vain to swallow a meaningless ego to offer what she really needs but you’ll do it gleefully in a blink of an eye. 

He could never give her what she deserves. 

The divine feminine found between your thighs, the sweet nectar she’s spent hours lapping at into all hours of the night, leaving before the sun rises. The walk of shame back to her apartment, glimpses of you never leaving her as she goes about her day. 

This will be just another image burned in her brain, you underneath her body, taking everything she’s giving but it’s so much more intimate than either of you even planned for. The altercation from earlier in the night fizzled out the moment her lips met yours. 

Abby’s palm grips onto the headboard, gaining leverage as she fucks you. “Open your fucking mouth, such a big one, huh? Definitely showed me how much tonight, so, do it again.” Using her strong grip, she squeezes your chin, applying pressure as you obey her willfully. Your lips forming at her wish, she continues to get off, the euphoric sounds of your cunt echoing through the room as you give her everything she wants. 

The her spit drips onto your mouth, pupils dilated as she watches you accept it with a sparkle gleaming in your eyes. Bright and beautiful as you thrust your hips against, enjoying yourself even more with her spit in your mouth. Obnoxiously, you swallow loudly, moaning as you do. 

“Can you spit on my pussy? Please? I know m’already soaked, but I need it.” You request sweetly, knowing she’s less likely to reject you if you’re sweet about it. Instead, she places her hand on your throat, decorating it beautifully with her rough grip. 

Just like that, the woman who loves you, attends to your every need, evaporates into thin air and the one who aims to take control over your very essence is back. The one who likes to push you over the edge until she feels like you’re satisfied enough is back. 

Abby isn’t going to stop until you’ve soaked every inch of her mattress. The one she slept in last night, Owen by her side, but now she believes it needs a level of christening. 

Extending her long fingers, she pulls at your bottom lip with her thumb applying more pressure at your neck. “Do you think you’re really in a position to ask for anything? Be grateful that you even get to feel my pretty pussy, yeah? Shouldn’t even be fucking my pretty girl after the shit you pulled today.” 

“M’sorry, okay? Fuck, please, please— can you forgive me? I just wanted to…” Then before you can even take a moment to breathe, she’s giving you something to choke on. Long, thick, fingers crawling their way down your throat, tickling the back of it, you feel the coolness of her rings lay left on your lips. 

“There.” Abby sighs in content while she grins with greed. “Needed something to shut you up, angel. Don’t cry though, it’ll be my cock next time for your second punishment.” You try to speak but it just comes out as murmurs, incoherent mumbles as Abby fucks your harder than she has all night. She continues to grip the headboard, each thrust more powerful than the last. 

“This what you fucking need. Someone to fuck the brat out of you, so, shut the fuck up and take it.” Abby commands as she moans when she sees your eyes roll back in heightened bliss, “Forgetting how I just made you feel already? I know, brats have a hard time remembering. Daddy needs to make you cum again, huh?” 

“Abs, m’so sensitive. I don’t think I can.” You confess, but Abby continued to fuck you harder, the power of her thrusts unrelenting. With each thrust, her folds sliding against your own as you take what she gives. “No? Should have thought about that before you decided to mouth off to me, again.” 

She shifts your leg over to her other hip, bending you like her own makeshift pretzel, maneuvering you to her will as she fucks you from a better angle. Abby cockily grins as your mouth forms a soft o shape, your breath hiccups as you moan even louder. Your hands grip on her waist as she rides you. All you can do is look upon her in awe, she’s a goddess like this. She always is but not even Owen could see her like you do. He would never be capable of appreciating her just the way she comes. 

Muscles like an adonis, perfectly carved, the veins in her arms protrude as she grabs the headboard. Everything about her seems hard, rough, defined but has the sensual hips of the most entrancing woman alive. The way she rolls them with purpose, a dance she’s choosing to partake in, one that she loves very much. Unable to stop even if she tried. 

Yet it’s her big and bright blues which give her away. For the first time, you see her clearly. Beautiful, bright, and in love. She’s never looked at you the way she is now. Maybe she always did but this time she’s letting you see the love laced underneath. Not ashamed of the softness of her emotions, the one she’s always held like a burden, she carries it strongly. 

You want to let her pull the words from your mouth, but she pulls at the bud between your thighs, claiming it as hers, waiting for you to give in to her. Abby’s just as strong as she is stubborn. Even if she’s already made you cum, she won’t let herself go until she gets it from you one more time. 

“Pretty, pretty, girl. Just one more time, m’kay? Need to see those gorgeous eyes roll back,” Freeing one of her hands, she picks up the ripped tie as she trickles the soft material down your abdomen, “God, i need to see it. My beautiful angel, always so gorgeous and mine.” 

The silk feels good against your skin but you need her. You pull on her hair, bringing her close to you as Abby buries her head in the crook of your neck. For the first time tonight, she allows herself to whimper in your ear. Submitting herself to you in a way she’s never done with anyone. Abby loses it when you stroke her hair gently. 

As much as she’s hellbent on making you come first, you have another objective on your mind. 

“And you’re mine. Only mine.” Abby whimpers, her hips slowing down as you buck up into hers, leading the pace as she gives into you. “C’mon, my sweet girl, let it all go. I have you, m’never letting go, promise.” 

With a notion of protection and sealed love, Abby lets go. Every bit of her slumps against you as she finds her release, you follow after her as you slowly grind into her, letting her coast through the high as she nearly growls in your ear, chants of your name leaving like a prayer. A sworn faithfulness to the only person she’s truly loved, cradling her as if she’s done no harm. As if she’s just as good and pure as you believe she is. 

With her forehead pressed against yours, her blue eyes void of any cockiness, she squeezes them shut as she regains to catch her breath. Lazily, pulling a sheet over you both as it rests on her waist, protecting you with her warmth. Abby wonders if your heart beats as rapidly as hers, fingers tangled in her golden waves as you gently bring swollen pink lips to you. Basking in the way she molds perfectly to you as if this moment, you and her, meant to be fated. 

One of her rough hands runs up and down your back, as the other grips your chin between her fingers, pulling you more into her as you share yet another soft and slow kiss. A kiss that has you smiling into her mouth as her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, teeth nipping at skin. “Needy,” You can’t help but giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as Abby simply just shrugged and grinned up at you. 

“Can you blame me? You’re addicting.” She stated like it was the most obvious thing you’ve ever heard. “Your lips are so soft, so that’s another reason why i like kissing you”

“That's the only reason? My lips are soft?” You cocked your head to the side, fingers tracing the slope of her nose slowly, amused at the way she crunches it up cutely when you cup her face. “You have pretty lips, a pretty nose, a pretty everything” You listed, leaning down to place a kiss between her furrowed eyebrows. “You have a pretty heart that is made of gold”

“I wouldn’t say that much about my heart. It’s caused a lot of pain lately.” Abby mutters sadly, fingers wrapping around your wrist and placing your hand on her cheek. “M’sorry for how I've treated you. Especially during this trip, a trip that was supposed to be so special and i kept fucking it up.”

“You’re here with me now, that’s all that matters, Abs. We matter, you matter.” Your voice was quiet, but with the close distance you shared with her, she heard it loud and clear. Your heart thumping loudly in your chest when she leans more into the palm of your hand, closes her and hums gently. “You are so beautiful, I didn't think I could be this in love with someone, not like I am with you. You mean everything to me, and I want to show you just how much.” 

Your confession has her eyes snapping open again, baby blues peering into yours so vulnerable, that you were worried she was about to get up and flee again. It always happened when you got too much into your feelings and feelings towards Abby. But she didn’t, instead, a shy smile appeared on her lips and a crimson blush coated the apples of her cheeks, her skin hot under your touch. “You don’t have to say anything—”

“I love you with all my heart.” 

The confession is ruined by the sound of the door slamming against the wall, and it startles you both. Abby’s moving to cover your body, protecting your vulnerability and being so exposed before her own. Her eyes quickly widen at the sight of Owen standing there. His chest is rising up and down, panting like he’s just ran a marathon. He’s looking between you both, at you longer than he is at Abby, but he’s looking. 

For a few seconds he doesn’t do anything, he just stands there with no idea what to do or say. Luckily Abby feels the same, and she just glares at him down with a subtle growl that has you biting down on your lip. Your eyes quickly look back over at Owen with a grin. “Can you shut the door on the way out? You’re ruining everything right now, i would like to fuck the woman of my dreams, again, and you are stopping me from doing that” You can’t help but huff. “You didn’t treat her like the Queen she is, but don’t worry, i will.”

Abby doesn’t know whether to laugh or choke on the spit forming in her mouth the second the words fly out of yours. 

Any other time, Owen would have caused a scene, woke everyone up with how loud he shouts, but this time he doesn’t. He knows it’s his fault, him to be blamed for Abby needing someone else. He barely gave her the time of day, and pushed her away for someone who wasn’t his girlfriend. Apart of him knew this day would come, she would leave him for you, he just didn’t think it would happen like this. So with one final look, he’s turning on his heels, bolting out of the room and slamming the door behind him. Not wasting a single second to get out of there. 

Leaving you both there, giggling.

Shaking her head at you, Abby cups her face between your hands not even seconds later, repeatedly placing kisses on your lips and melts at the sound as you both fall back onto the bed, in each others space, like you’ve always meant to be with hushed whispers, and promises into each others mouth. 

“It’s always been you. I love you, always and forever.”

It’s safe to say, Owen won’t ever be tasting you again.

taglist: @hypnagogics @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @abbyspup @lucidfairies @liizzygrant @yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden @iluvme9 @angelynn-nicole @hearts4joongie @moonyvs4 @loveyru @imdrowningindispair @random-fag @swinesb @spacewlf @callmewhenyoukan @princesssmars @girlg3n1us @co0kiemuncher @kl1q @graviewaviee @antonellavanella @chuutzuyu @mystellenia @mabels-trashcan @i-feel-violated

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 20

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Swearing, injury, stick, Theo, Klaus, Theo and Klaus

“We’re going to go meet Bonnie’s birth mother. Want to join us?”

I blow out a low breath as Elena tells me her day plans over the phone. I ponder her question momentarily and then glance at Theo, who is currently curled into a sad ball on my bed.

“I would but…I’m on Theo watch duty. Gotta make sure he doesn’t have another mental breakdown,” I whisper the last part into the phone but Theo must’ve heard because I hear him mutter “bitch” at me.

“Yikes… How’s he doing,” Elena asks wearily.

I blow out another breath as Theo wails loudly, “You hear that?”

“Oh… definite yikes. Well, call us if you need anything ok? And, please stay inside, or don’t go anywhere near Stefan.”

I huff, “Ya trust me, I’m staying as far away from that bastard as I can.”

“You talking about Stefan,” I hear Theo growl out and I shush him.

“Tell Bonnie I’ll kick her mother’s ass if things go south,” I say into the phone and Elena’s voice gets muffled as she says something to someone near her.

“Bonnie says she will and she appreciates it,” Elena laughs.

We then say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone and remember the elephant in the room. 

“You’ve really got to move on dude. It’s not like he’s dead,” I sit down on the edge of my bed and my brother sits up and glares at me. He’s wrapped up in a fluffy pink blanket so his glare is more pathetic than scary.

“Mind yourself, woman,” He bites, “What if your Gilbert left you?”

I begin to roll my eyes at him but stop and frown. 

“SEE! You’d be in my position if your book buddy left you! So don’t come bitching at me because my SOULMATE left me,” He cries out and I let out a long breath.

“Can’t you have your mid-life crisis in your room?”

“The internet says you're not supposed to be alone in times of mourning,” He quickly responds.

“Ya well,” I rub my forehead, “You're giving me a fucking migraine.”

At the mention of my head, Theo frowns and leans closer to me inspecting my head, “How is your head? I swear to God as soon as I get my hands on that stupid bitchass motherfucking vampire imma kill him.”

I smile softly at him and sit back, “I’m fine now. And promise me if you see Stefan you will run the other way,” I say trying to hide the slight fear in my voice. 

“Y/n he hurt you, I’m not going to just-”

“Theo! Please! Do you see how you are acting because Jeremy left you? If something were to happen to you…I’d be one hundred times worse than this. I couldn’t live in a world where you didn’t exist, alright? And Stefan he’s… not himself right now. He doesn't care about me and he definitely doesn’t care about you. So, promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

Theo nods and grabs my shoulders, bringing me in for a hug, “I’d lose my shit too if you weren’t here. That’s why it sucks I can’t defend you. Seeing you in the condition you were the other night was horrible.”

I think back to when Klaus dropped me off, and Theo was right at the front door to see it and also see the absolute wreck I was. 

“I know and I’m sorry you had to see that,” I apologize. 

Theo shakes his head, “You have nothing to apologize for,” Theo stops talking and then side-eyes me, “Also… would you like to explain to me why exactly Klaus, the Original hybrid, was on our front porch dropping you off?”

“Well…”

Flashback

The dark forest flies by me as Klaus drives down the dark road towards my house. An awkward silence fills Klaus’ expensive SUV as I stare at my fingers that are resting in my lap. You would think for someone who loves to hear himself talk so much he’d be yapping away but after he practically carried me to the car, and placed me into my seat, he hasn’t said a word.  

After another moment I let out a sigh, “You didn’t have to take me home…I could’ve rode with Alastair.”

Klaus doesn’t move his eyes away from the road, “With Alastair’s track record of making sure you come to no harm…I decided I should start taking things into my own hands.”

I frown, “So what? You’re going to start stalking me now?”

Even in this poorly lit car, I can’t miss the small smirk on his face, “Hypothetically.”

“Great,” I say sarcastically.

Everything is silent for a moment until a car with its high beams on drives by us and I wince and let out a gasp of pain at the intrusion of light on my already pounding head. 

“Here,” I hear Klaus’ voice and a biting sound and have to fight the urge to puke again when I see him bite into his wrist.

“Hell no,” I shake my head, “I’ll live with the headache.”

Klaus pretty much growls, “Sorry to burst your bubble, Princess. But, that little headache of yours is most likely a concussion. And I can’t have you falling asleep tonight and not waking up because of it. So just drink.”

I shake my head defiantly and watch his wrist heal itself, “I’ll live.”

Klaus turns and glares at me and if I was in a better state I would glare right back at the bitch but I’m so worn down that I just stare back at him. Klaus’ glare drops when he sees I’m not glaring back at him.

“Y/n, just drink…”

“What’s a mate?”

The car swerves and I quickly grab the closest thing to me which happens to be Klaus’ hand that is lying on the center console. Images of Stefan and the bridge flash in my mind and I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack. Or dying. I could definitely be dying too. 

“Y/n! Y/n focus on me,” I hear Klaus’ voice in my head but I can’t seem to focus on anything or stop the panic attack that is building.

“Fuck it,” Is all I hear before the air is being taken out of my lungs and my face is being squished by Klaus’ large hands. It takes me a moment to register why I feel a pressure on my mouth but when I open my eyes and see Klaus’ face before mine I realize…Klaus is kissing me. Klaus whatever his last name is, is fucking kissing me. His lips are on my lips at this very moment. Holy shit. 

I know I should push him off me but I’m going to blame it on my lack of consciousness right now because I’m leaning into him. I’m kissing him back. 

Klaus pulls away from me a moment later and I stare at him wide-eyed. I bring my shaking hand up to my lips and trace my bottom lip with my finger, trying not to think about how right it felt to be that close to him. 

“I’m sorry,  I shouldn’t have done that,” Klaus’ voice pulls me out of my stupor.

“Then…why did you?”

Klaus leans back and it seems like he’s trying to make as much distance between him and me as he possibly can, which sends a stabbing pain to my chest.

“You were having a panic attack. What I’ve learned over the years is that holding your breath will stop it.”

At Klaus’ reason, a wave of embarrassment flows through me. I can’t figure out why but, a sense of rejection fills me as well.

“Oh,” I softly say, “I’m sorry.”

I can feel Klaus’ stare as I look back down to my hands. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

I shrug, “For freaking out. And for making you,” I point to my lips embarrassingly, “Y’know.”

A bigger wave of embarrassment runs through me at the sound of Klaus’ laugh. 

“Trust me, Princess,” Klaus tugs on the end of my hair lightly to gain my attention, “Kissing you is the opposite of sorrowful.”

I look at Klaus’ who has a mix of a smirk and a smile on his face and I nod quickly before looking away, feeling a warmth build throughout me. 

I notice now that we’ve pulled off to the side of the road. 

“We can go now. I’m okay,” I gesture to the road ahead and try to catch a glimpse of Klaus out of the corner of my eye but he’s still staring at me. 

“Not until you let me heal you.”

I shake my head, “You vampires keep trying to get me to drink your blood and it’s weird.”

Klaus’ eyes darken, “What other vampires?”

I shrug, “Just like Damon, and,” I pause, “Your brother.”

“You’ve drank Elijah’s blood but you won’t drink mine?”

Klaus’ harsh voice bites at me and I flinch back in my seat. 

Klaus’ glare instantly drops as he runs a hand over his face, “You have no reason to flinch around me. I’d never… I’d never do anything like that to you.”

I frown at the man who has uprooted and ruined my friends’ lives over the past 4 months and shake my head, “Are you serious?!”

Klaus stares at me for a moment before leaning back in his seat again, “I’ve never laid a hand on you or your brother.”

At the mention of Theo I stiffen, “How do you know about him?”

Klaus looks at me with an “Are you serious” look.

“Alastair,” I say knowingly and growled.

“He’s not the best at protecting but he is great at getting information.”

I pause for a moment and then glare at him, “If you ever try anything against Theo, I swear to whatever Gods are out there I will-”

“Slow it, Princess,” Klaus raises a hand stopping me, “Your brother has nothing to fear from me. Hurting him is hurting you.”

“Why is not hurting me of importance to you? Because of what Stefan said in the car? We’re mates?”

My question has Klaus leaning forward and starting the car again.

“Seriously,” I exhale at him and he doesn’t spare me a glance.

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

I go to rub my hands over my face but Klaus’ hand grabs mine stopping me.

“You’re going to hit your wound. Put your hand down.”

“Why can’t I ever just know the truth? I’m so sick and tired of everyone hiding things from me like I’m so fucking kid! I haven’t been a kid in years and I can handle a lot more than you fuckers think I can.”

Klaus watches me for a moment and then shakes his head, “I don’t think you understand.”

“No, I understand you perfectly! I understand you’re just like the rest of them!”

“Y/n. Listen to me,” Klaus leans back over to me so my full attention is on him, “First of all, I’m nothing like anyone that you’ve ever met before, so don’t insult me. Second, I don’t think you’re a child. I can see it in your eyes, that look that mirrors my own. You and I are the same, Astin Min. And third, it’s not you that can’t handle it. It’s me.”

I stare at Klaus and he stares back at me. 

“Why can’t you?”

Klaus runs his tongue over his teeth before letting out a sigh.

“Question for question,” He shakes his head slightly, “Correction. Question for a favor.”

I narrow my eyes at him and frown, “What kind of favor?”

Klaus smirks, “You drink my blood. I’ll answer your question.”

I groan as I stare at him. The idea of drinking his blood disgusts me but staying in the dark pisses me off.

“Fine. Let’s get the over with,” I lean over the console toward him and open my mouth. 

Klaus seems to be almost surprised by my agreement as his eyebrows slightly raise. His eyes go towards my open mouth and for a moment in the dark car, I could swear a hint of red tints on his cheeks. But before I can stare too long Klaus bites into his wrist and presses it to my mouth. I think I’m about to vomit when the warm liquid hits my tongue but instead, I groan at the delicious taste. Embarrassment has me quickly pulling away and wiping my lips. 

Klaus on the other hand is smirking like the fucking devil he is, “It’s better than Elijah’s, isn’t it.”

I glare at him, “I’m going to swing on you.”

Klaus releases a hearty laugh and I feel my upper lip twitch at the sound. 

“It’s your turn Jackass,” I cut his laughing off and he rolls his eyes. 

Klaus puts the car in drive and for a moment I think he’s going to back out of our deal but then he clears his throat. 

“I’ve gone a thousand years without a weakness, Y/n. A thousand years with no one having any leverage over me, other than my father.,” He pauses at the mention of Mikael, “You threaten that. A thousand years, and now my biggest threat is an 18-year-old girl.”

He bitterly laughs out the last part as if he can’t believe it’s true.

“I’m no threat to you. You’re the great big bad hybrid. I can’t even run up a flight of stairs without getting winded. How could I ever harm you?”

Klaus turns to me and his eyes go towards my wounded head before turning back towards the road.

“You have no idea.”

—

“I’m not even going to ask how you knew how to get to my house without me telling you,” I say as I go to open my car door but Klaus speeds over to my side and opens it for me. 

Maybe he and Elijah are related.

“You can ask, I can’t promise you’ll like the answer,” Klaus says as he helps me out of the car. 

I get out and try to walk on my own but a wave of tiredness flows through me and I feel my knees buckle. Thankfully, I feel Klaus’ arm wrap around my waist to keep me up.

“What the hell?!”

Theo’s screeching voice has me cringing in pain and I can hear Klaus growl from beside me. 

I open my eyes to see Theo running out of the front door and down the steps to me, wrapped in my fucking comforter. 

“Unhand her you bitch,” Theo yells and points his finger at Klaus who looks entirely unimpressed with my younger brother’s antics.

“Theo, chill the fuck out and go back inside. I’ll be in in a moment,” I try to wave my brother away but he shushes me and grabs me out of Klaus’ arms. 

“What kind of brother and manly protector would I be if I left you alone with this,” Theo glares at Klaus, who still has a hand on the bottom of my elbow, “thing.”

Klaus’ eyes go from my brother’s face to the giant lavender blanket wrapped around him, “I would insult you, but I know about your lack of male figures in your life. So this,” He gestures to the blanket, “Is not your fault. It appears your sister has just raised herself a sister.”

I swallow a laugh as Theo looks like he’s about to internally combust. He lets go of me and if it weren’t for Klaus’ hand on my elbow I probably would have fallen. Klaus narrows his eyes at my brother because of his actions.

“Who the fuck do you think you are,” Theo puts his fists up and I laugh at the amount of stupidness.

I look over to Klaus who’s standing next to me and he meets my eyes for a moment and then rolls his own.

“Klaus.”

“Well listen here Klau-”

Theo stops. 

“Wait,” Theo’s eyes go from wide to wider as his mouth drops open when he realizes who he just tried fist fighting. Theo slowly drops his fists, “Did you just say Klaus?”

Klaus seems to be beside himself for getting this kind of reaction out of my brother and I glare at him, “The one and only.”

Theo stares wide-eyed at the Original for a moment before turning around towards our lawn. I think he’s going to make a run for it but he quickly leans down and then turns back. I watch in awe as he throws a fucking stick at Klaus, bonking the hybrid right in his pretty face. 

“Quick, sister,” Theo yells as I feel him rip me out of Klaus’ arms and starts to drag me up the stairs. 

“Theo! Hold the fuck on, you dumbass,” I pull away from my brother as we make it to the porch and he stares at me like I’ve grown two heads. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!?!?”

“He’s not going to hurt us,” I tell my brother, “Or at least he wasn’t until you threw a fucking twig at his head.”

I look down at where Klaus is standing. I try to fight it but a loud laugh escapes my lips when I see him glaring up at us with the small twig breaking in his left hand. 

“Luv, I know I made a promise about not hurting him, but I think I might have to break that,” He bites out and I instantly stiffen and move in front of my little brother.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” I threaten him and we glare back at each other.

“This sexual tension is freaking me out,” Theo’s voice takes my focus away from Klaus as I turn to glare at my brother instead. 

“Shut up, Theo!”

“Oh, let the boy continue,” Klaus snarkily says and I turn back to glare at him. Thankfully the dark look from before has vanished and is now replaced by his usual smirk. 

I feel Theo’s hand tug on mine and I squeeze his. Theo talks a tough game but I can feel the shaking coming from his hand. 

“He hurt you Y/n,” Theo whispers to me as he stares wearily at my bloody head.

“Did not,” Klaus retorts.

Theo turns his attention back to the Original, “Did too!”

“Did no-”

“Jesus Christ stop you two,” I groan and rub my temple with my free hand, “Theo it was Stefan who hurt me. Klaus actually…helped me. I guess.”

I turn to see my brother’s confused face and can hear Klaus mutter “She guesses” under his breath. 

“Stefan did this to you,” Theo questions, and as I nod his weary look turns to one of anger, “Fine. Then grab that stick we’re going to go stab Stefan instead.”

Theo begins to walk back down the steps and Klaus raises the stick up for him to take.

“I’ll join you, mate.”

I pull my brother back with a huff, “Theo go back inside. Now.”

Theo goes to argue but I glare at him.  With one last huff and an “I’m watching you” gesture to Klaus, he walks back inside. But I can see the living room curtain push open slightly so I know he’s still watching. 

“You two are definitely related,” Klaus growls as he looks up at me. 

“Sadly,” I respond. 

Klaus and I stand there for another moment just watching each other and I feel my face warm up. 

“Well…um. Thank I guess,” I say awkwardly and turn to the front door.

“Y/n,” Klaus’ voice has me stopping and turning over my shoulder to look at him. He looks like he’s about to say something else but then clears his throat. 

“Good night.”

—-

“YOU KISSED HIM?!?!?”

I roll my eyes as Theo stares wide-eyed at me. 

“Technically, he kissed me,” I respond and Theo shakes his head.

“Nuh-uh you kissed him back,” He says and looks at me like I just committed the worst sin imaginable.

I look down at my hands as a wave of shame washes through me. 

“You can’t tell anyone, Theo. Seriously. Not Jeremy, or Elena, or anyone,” I look at my brother worried.

Theo narrows his eyes, “Why not?”

I give him an “Are you serious” look.

Theo thinks for a moment and then nods, “Oh, ya. Crazy Pyshco that killed your best friend and is harassing all your friends now. Ya, secrets safe with me.”

I grab Theo’s hand, “Theo, I’m serious.”

Theo squeezes my hand, “I promise. Sibling pact and shit….Also,” Theo smirks, “Was it good?”

I frown, confused, “Was what good?”

“The kiss,” Theo smirks evilly.

I smile sweetly at my brother and then hit him upside the head with my hand.

“Ow, woman. Don’t be putting your filthy hands on my precious hair.”

“Your greasy hair,” I say back and he stares at me in shock.

“How dare you! It is not greasy,” He tries to fight back but when I raise an eyebrow at him he quickly stands up and runs to my mirror. The screech that leaves his mouth as he stares into the mirror has me rolling my eyes. 

Theo quickly drops my blanket on the floor and runs out of the room. Not even 2 minutes later I hear the water from the shower turn on. I quickly stand up, shut my door, and then lock it. 

—-

“Wait, so that means I can’t fist-fight Bonnie’s mother,” I ask Elena.

Elena called me as soon as she got home from her trip with Bonnie to meet Bonnie’s mother. I guess Bonnie’s mother ended up losing her magic when she did a spell to desecrate Mikael 16 years ago but is willing to try to get her magic back to help her daughter open the unopenable coffin or some shit. There’s so much going on in this town that everything’s starting to mesh together. 

“No…I mean at least not right now,” Elena jokes and I huff.

“Fine. But if she hurts Bonnie I’m throwing my fist right into her throat,” I pretend to jab the air as I put the phone in between my shoulder and ear.

“Are you fighting the air right now,” Elena asks and I stop.

“No….”

Elena laughs, “Well, if you do need to fight her I’ll be there rooting for you.”

I smile, “Thanks, I appreciate it,” I pull up my towel that is wrapped around my body. 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay,” I tell Elena and she agrees and I hang up the phone. 

My still-wet hair leaves shivers on my body as I open my bedroom door and walk inside. But when my Y/E/C eyes meet brown eyes I stop.

“Hello, Elskan. I think you and I are long overdue for a chat.”

[planetsano]

fem reader. both reader and yuji get zero bitches. waxing.

I was having thoughts about Yuji getting his first wax at this really cute spa— its the new year so he’s really trying to make the effort of taking this whole “self care” thing he’s been seeing on TikTok seriously. He seems like the type to be pretty hairy down south anyway and in turn he trims it here and there but he never really upkeeps the maintenance. He wants to see what this waxing thing is all about.

So, he books the appointment and he gets you as his esthetician. He’s nervous! But also very excited! He booked a facial as well as the wax so you of course take very good care of him. The conversation is flowing beautifully and there’s a bit of chemistry there. He also thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and when he walked into the studio, he tripped over his shoelace but that’s neither here or there.

When it’s finally time for the wax? You’re prepping everything all nice and instruct him to take off his pants and boxers— and Yuji immediately freezes. He’s all like “What do you mean?” so you look at him from over your shoulder because you think he’s being silly but the look of genuine confusion on his face lets you know he’s being deadass serious. You tell him, “Well, I can’t wax you with your pants on now can I, cutie?” as sweet as can be, its almost a little maternal too the way you say it.

Poor Yuji. He didn’t really think about any of this fully through. He mentally punches himself in the face because of course he would have to expose himself to the esthetician, that’s just how a Brazilian wax works! Yuji doesn’t want to make it awkward so he complies and takes off his pants and underwear before he lays back onto the table. God, he’s never felt so embarrassed in his life! Is the lamp really necessary..? The warmth of it did feel pretty nice. That’s beside the point anyway.

As he’s laying there while you dilly about with your back turned to him, his mind starts to wander. When was the last time he’s had a woman’s touch? It feels like ages because it kind of has. A year? Almost close to a year. He can’t really remember. Yuji thinks you’re pretty and a good time— you’re easy to talk to and if he didn’t know any better, he thinks he might have a tiny, little crush on you. He’s already been thinking about booking another service just so he can see you.

The thought is super cute, but what isn’t cute is Yuji fighting every single demon, every single thought— nearly trying to astral project so he won’t get hard. You didn’t give him a warning before wrapping your gloved hand around his shaft and he jumped, which did get a giggle and a little “Feeling jumpy today, are we?” out of you. He played it off with a bashful little “Sorry.” before relaxing again. You’re not really doing much but your job and that’s why he feels like such a pervert when all the blood from his skull has rushed to his cock.

For him, it’s like this huge elephant in the room but for you? You don’t mind, there’s always a possibility which is why you don’t take male clients but Yuji is the only exception because he’s cute and seems like a good boy. He probably thinks that he has a poker face but there’s a reason why you keep cooing at him because he’s definitely the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It’s so desperately obvious that he’s trying to think about the most unpleasant and uncomfortable things but it’s not working.

As the service continues, Yuji is not longer trying to keep from stay hard but he’s now rather trying not to cum all over your hands and his chest. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do so. He peeks down every now and again to see the progress, he keeps telling himself “She’s almost done, she’s almost done.” that he needs to hold out for just a few minutes more then he can put his pants back on. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem to work out like he would have hoped to plan.

Your hand slid up his cock with just enough pressure and friction to make him blow his, really fat load actually. He desperately tried to grab your wrist before it happened but it was already too late, the broken protest turned into a pitiful moan halfway, the panicked jerk of his body.. truth be told you thought it was sweet. You’ve also been going through a dry spell yourself. Your last ex made you want to do some healing but with that came with stepping out of the dating pool and no casual sex.

You, yourself felt like a bit of a pervert standing here with a man putty in your fingertips. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” was all that left his lips as you cleaned him with with a Kleenex but all you could say in return was:

“Can I..? Have your number?”

[amongemeraldclouds]

no take backs

As the earth collapsed around you, your sworn enemy decides to confess his feelings for you with a kiss. So when the world doesn’t end, what happens next?

Jess Mariano x f!Reader

Warning: 18+ only MDNI, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex, piv, v!fingering, reader has anxiety (only plays a small part in the story), earthquake (no injuries)

Author’s note: Based on this request then I expanded on the concept. This fic is set after he left Stars Hollow.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Jess Mariano Masterlist | 2.4k words

“Just because I’m letting you drive me home, does not mean we’re friends,” you huffed as you climbed into the passenger seat of Jess Mariano’s beat up car. Vintage, he called it. You’d never admit it, but you found it cute how he was proud of it. To him, it was his key to freedom, going anywhere he wanted whenever he wanted. Except for when nature had other plans.

“Well, a coworker could take his other coworker home, okay?” He said, closing the car door as he slid his keys into the ignition and started up the car. You relent and gave him your address.

It was just your luck that the Earth’s tectonic plates decided to shift in ways that damaged your car, but not your mortal enemy’s. Perhaps it was karma and you were being encouraged to make amends with him in the name of world peace. Try as you might however, the word “peace” and Jess Mariano just did not fit.

It certainly did not feel peaceful being trapped in a car with him. Your cheeks blushed as you remembered how soft his lips felt against yours and the eager way they moved as if it was the final thing he would ever do in his life. And for a few moments back at the publishing house, tucked safely beneath a table while the world shook violently around you, you were both convinced it was your last moments.

It was confusing. The way your heart hammered and you didn’t know if it was from fear of dy*ng or the way his kiss invaded your entire being. From the moans it elicited from your throat, to the air it stole from your lungs, and the butterflies that rushed in your stomach. It was hard to tell if it really was just an earthquake or the mind-shattering truth that your enemy might not actually hate you at all.

Then it was over too soon. The air felt cold without him close to you and he was pulling you up from under the table.

“So we’re just not going to talk about it?” You asked, piercing the awkward silence.

Jess just shrugged and spoke casually, “talk about what?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, of course he wasn’t going to make this easy for you. But he had no right confusing you with a kiss after constantly making your life a waking nightmare.

“Jess, you kissed me,” you deadpan, addressing the elephant in the room. “Coworkers don’t kiss other coworkers.”

“A lapse of judgment in a life-threatening situation,” he dismissed, keeping his eyes straight on the road.

Your mouth curled, the sweet aftertaste of his kisses turning sour. You fumed in silence as you looked outside the window with unfocused eyes. You weren’t sure what you were more upset about: his denial or your disappointment - having to face the horrid fact that you also didn’t hate your enemy.

“Shit, the road’s blocked,” Jess drew you out from the thunder of your thoughts as you looked at the cars lined up ahead. It was like a scene from one of those post-apocalyptic films you’ve seen and dread sank in your chest. Perhaps you should stick to watching cheesy rom coms because this pessimism was not helpful at all.

“Can we go somewhere else?” You whispered softly, anxiety bearing down your chest.

Jess looked at you with concern. “Sure, let’s find somewhere we can park until things get better,” he replied with an equally soft tone and you hated it because he knew all about your anxiety and penchant for panic attacks. You didn’t like being weak around him, not if he could be sweet and caring only to take it all back when you’re fine.

He parked the car in between buildings, sheltered from the wails of emergency response vehicles and the rush of people trying to go home. You exhaled after going through rounds of breathing exercises to calm your anxiety.

“My my, a secluded alley. Jess Mariano, whatever do you plan to do with me?” You quipped, mildly accusing him or m*rder when the other meaning dawned on you, something that made you blush. Well, it was too late to back out now.

He smirked, “whose to say you’re not the one who wants to do things with me with that line of questioning, huh?”

“I wouldn’t do anything if I was the only one who liked it,” you hedged. Perhaps life was too short to keep denying your feelings. If there was ever a better time to learn that lesson, it was now. You just needed him to admit he felt it too.

“I don’t like the idea of being k*lled, thanks,” he scoffed as he plastered on a smug smile.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” you looked outside the window, an idea forming in your head.

“It sure is getting hot,” you comment innocently as you undid the top buttons of your blouse. Jess’ eyes followed your movement and you don’t miss the way his breath hitches.

“Better get comfortable, right?” You said, adjusting the car seat to lean back and you felt your blouse open slightly to reveal your cleavage. You were not going to make it easy for him to deny his feelings.

“Stop that,” Jess demanded while his eyes told a different tale of desire and longing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied lazily. Two can play that game.

That’s right Jess, you thought, here’s a dose of your medicine. You continued, “this is much better.” You leaned your head back and stretched on the seat, aware of how your skirt inched up your legs.

You let out a satisfied moan, sighing in pleasure at thoughts of getting comfortable. If by comfort, you meant the satisfaction of derailing Jess’ denial and stubbornness. His eyes traced your legs then followed your chest when they rose and fell with your sigh. 

Jess grunted and you bit back a smile. “Okay, fine. So I kissed you,” he admitted.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You said it meant nothing, so why would it matter?”

“I never said it meant nothing, I said it was a lapse of judgment.”

“There’s a difference?” You raised your eyebrow, challenging him to continue.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he steeled himself. To Jess Mariano, telling the truth meant peeling back the layers of his sarcasm, which was as painful as stripping off his skin.

“You know when they say the world is about to end, you’d think your life flashes before your eyes. But all I could see was you. And it wasn’t just because you were in front of me. God, I closed my eyes, and all I could see was still you. Laughing at your own jokes, greeting everyone with a smile, typing away on your computer. It would be such a shame if I didn’t get to kiss you if that was the last thing I’d ever do, damn it. But then the earthquake stopped and we were fine.”

Your eyebrows creased as you let his words sink in. “Is it really so bad that we survived?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, “I don’t think I could ever survive you. You frustrate me because you’re just so…you! You’re not someone I could just kiss once and get out of my system. I’d always want more and then I’d inevitably screw it up. It was better that you hated me from the start.”

His eyes burned with untold stories of heartbreak and self destruction. Despite all the ways he infuriated you, you wanted nothing more than to hold him. You had a feeling you were just seeing who he truly was beneath his smug smiles and his devil-may-care attitude.

“Jess, I don’t hate you,” you confess. “Don’t just make it one kiss,” you continue, allowing yourself to be just as honest as him. “Have another one, and another, and heck - have all of me!”

He looked at you in disbelief, as if he wished for the stars and he was told he could have the whole damn galaxy. A spark of joy and hope ignited something wild in him that he no longer let himself think of past regrets and mistakes.

He inched towards you, looking into your eyes for permission and you bridged the distance in response, kissing him. It was fiercer than when you both thought you were on the brink of de*th, because this time, it was a celebration of life and the possibilities that lay ahead.

You felt it when he sucked on your bottom lip and you moaned in pleasure, a small sound for all the words you couldn’t say. How all those time spent hating him was just a shield from your admiration of the man who took destiny in his own hands and never let the world define him.

The man who wrote stories and downplayed them through luck and how ink fumes must have altered his publisher’s minds to pick him. He never once acknowledged his talent, but secretly you did with the way you underlined your favorite sentences and re-read his book as if his words could wrap you in a sweet embrace.

He always kept you at an arm’s length and made your life hell, but it was heaven just being beside him. And you never dared to admit it. Until now, when he’s unbuttoning your blouse as he unravels your secrets. His mouth moves to your neck, setting your body on fire.

“Wait, what if someone sees us?” You ask, a wave of sobriety washing over you.

Jess just smirked, his lips pink and swollen, hungry for more of your kisses. “That’s half the fun.”

You rolled your eyes but god - you needed him. “And the other half?” You asked, mirroring his smirk.

“This,” he just says as he resumes your kiss.

It’s agony when you pull away again just to alleviate your anxiety, “can we at least go to the back?” It’s not much, but it’s better than being right by the windshield.

“Spacious,” he nods, moving away so you could climb over to the backseat. You felt the heat of his stare behind you as you settled in. 

He promptly followed suit until your bodies are tangled again with him laying you down the seat, careful so you don’t hit your head. You bring your hand to his stupid hair and run your fingers through it. His hands return to your blouse and your back arches on instinct when he unclasps your bra and he takes a moment to look at you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes as he squeezes your breast while he licks the other, planting soft tender kisses.

In his car, the sirens and chaos faded. You were consumed by Jess’ touch, both curious and possessive at the same time. His free hand traveling down your leg as he caressed it, slowly making his way to your inner thigh. You can’t help the way you squirmed beneath him as you held your breath in anticipation. In response, you palm his erection beneath his uncomfortably tight jeans and you’re rewarded with a grunt.

He teased you through your panties and you open your legs for him as he moves the thin fabric aside to feel your soft folds. You bite your lip and try to stifle your moan, but Jess brings his mouth to your ear, “I need to hear you, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” You cursed in response, your mind swimming in a haze of euphoria.

His fingers send shockwaves of pleasure as he spreads your liquid heat, exploring your folds and paying attention to which sensations left you whimpering. He exploited them skillfully, rubbing and teasing, eager to make you a moaning mess for him. You gasped when he plunged his fingers inside you and you arched your back, needing him deeper.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he admires as he pumped his fingers in and out. You moved your hips against his hand, needing more of him. He was finally here, doing things you used to just dream about, secrets stashed beneath soft covers in your moonlit bedroom.

“Jess, please. I need to feel all of you,” you begged and his eyes darkened.

“I’m all yours,” he replied as he removed his fingers and cleaned them off with his tongue. “Fuck you taste so good.” 

You helped him free his hard length and you don’t stifle the needy moan that escapes you this time when he fills you up. He takes a few slow movements before building up to a steady pace, the delicious friction making your toes curl. “You feel amazing, Jess,” you tell him.

He kissed you as he rocked his hips into you, a clash of teeth and tongue. There was nothing gentle in the way you moved against each other, it was pure want and longing crashing into each other. It was months of fantasies finally coming true and desires unleashed building in your core.

The car moved along with you, giving you extra leverage to find your rhythm. The irony was not lost on you that as the world shook around you once again, things were falling into place this time.

Filthy, desperate whimpers escaped his lips and you spread your legs wider, needing him deeper inside you. He squeezed your breast in response and teased your taut nipples, eager to worship all of you. You closed your eyes when you felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“Look at me,” Jess tells you instead and so you do. You see the lust and passion in his eyes and it’s enough to unravel you. Little earthquakes of ecstasy erupt through you as you shuddered against him. He increases his pace, eager to coax every last aftershock of your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before you feel his release warming your insides. He rests his head in the crook of your neck as he recovers his breath.

When he pulls out, you swipe his spilled seed from your leg and bring it in your mouth, enjoying the salty taste. “Fuck you’re so hot,” Jess breathes out. 

You grin. “So this happened. You gonna deny it?” You challenged him as he held you.

“Nope,” he said with a grin. “This happened. You’re mine and I’m yours. No take backs.”

“No take backs,” you echoed as you leaned in for another kiss.

It was perfect. The world could end at that moment and you would not mind at all.

Still you were glad to stay alive. Because then, you could always go another round, and another. So it goes.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Jess Mariano Masterlist

[skufdaddyswansea]

Mouthwashing, Dual Protagonists, and Captain Curly

While the vast majority of Mouthwashing is shown from Jimmy's perspective, the events leading up to the Tulpar's crash usually follow Curly. There are several interesting reasons for this, but there's one reason in particular that I'd like to focus on.

By setting Jimmy and Curly up as dual protagonists, we're invited to draw comparisons between them. Not only are they the lenses through which we view the story, they pass the role of Captain back and forth between their chapters.

It's easy to feel sympathy for Curly, given the state he spends the larger part of the game in. It can also be easy to gloss over his more subtle shortcomings when measuring him up against Jimmy.

In this post, I want to take a closer look at Curly's character. And more specifically, how he relates to one of the game's most obvious themes.

Is Curly able to deal with the consequences of his actions? Does he realize his own failures and how they harm the people around him? What does he do with the power he's granted over others?

Does Curly take responsibility?

Jimmy's fixation here gives us a good jumping-off point. It's certainly possible that he's only really been told this once or twice, but because he's Jimmy he's blown it out of proportion out of spite. It's also possible he's entirely making it up because he's projecting, but I think the former is more likely if anything.

And, if I had to take a guess where he heard it from, I'd put my money on The Pony Express itself.

In the eyes of The Pony Express, a "great leader" isn't someone diligent or able to meet the needs of his crew. The real reason Curly was able to rise to the top of the ladder and become captain is because he gets the job done without rocking the boat.

I'm establishing all this because I think it's worth examining by what metric he's being judged. Because, while it may be Jimmy who most often digs this point up, Curly doesn't disagree with him. Even in the depths of his ennui, it's important to him that not only is he the Captain, but a good one at that.

When comparing the two, that can again seem difficult to argue against. Jimmy is quick to lash out and shift blame. His resentment and insecurities often drive him to pick fights. Curly prefers to avoid conflict, but knows his position doesn't always allow him to do so. He tries to pick his battles, but when he has to get involved he focuses on de-escalating the situation.

But although their similarities are few, they do exist. And they greatly influence the narrative. Because it is from their shared selfishness, callousness, and cowardice that the entire story is born.

It's time to address the elephant in the room. We can't draw any conclusions about Curly's nature, his character, his role in the story, and his relationship to its themes without digging into his handling of Anya's assault, and the chain of events that follow.

I find it interesting that we never see the initial conversation Anya has with Curly about the assault. We simply know that she confided in him. He is the Captain, after all. The crew is his responsibility.

The thing is, we don't really need to know the exact conversation they shared, because we can imagine it went quite similarly to their conversation about her pregnancy.

She tells him how scared she is. She fears for her life. It never even occurred to him that she was upset about anything other than losing her job. He swears to her that everything will be fine. They'll fix this. All he has to do is talk to Jimmy.

He does not talk to Jimmy.

Maybe the first time he really did intend to. He just needed time. Jimmy has always had... struggles. If we want to, we can be generous to Curly, we can assume his old problems were much less vile. Otherwise, he would have never pulled the strings to get him this job, never put him in a position of power over vulnerable people. Right? But now, this was whole new beast altogether. Because he and Jimmy go way back, he had to process this, figure out what he was even supposed to say.

But at the same time, The Pony Express had just gone gone under. He'd been struggling with dissatisfaction and indecision for so long, and now his hand has been forced. He has his own problems. And Anya seems fine, doesn't she? If she hadn't said anything, he'd never have even known there was anything wrong. It just doesn't seem that important.

Anya talks to Jimmy herself.

She's scared, she fears for her life. But now she knows now that Curly won't defend her, nor give her the means to defend herself. Still, he promises her, they'll fix this. He just has to talk to Jimmy.

Things are different now. He can't sit by and wait for things to work out anymore. After all, it's not only her problem anymore.

Now it's Curly's problem too. How is he supposed to find another job with this on his record? There's only one other person on this ship who understands what he's going through.

He talks to Jimmy.

And he understands. Not that what he did was wrong, of course. Not that he'd done something horrific, irreversible, cruel. But that it now had consequences, and that he wouldn't suffer them alone.

Curly made his decision. He chose his paper-thin illusion of peace and his eroding friendship with Jimmy over the safety and well-being of his crew. And when it all came tumbling down, he decided it was better to bury them all under the rubble than to face the struggle to rebuild.

If Jimmy hadn't been there, hadn't been his co-pilot, Curly almost certainly would not have been able to bring himself to actually follow through with something so selfish and reckless.

But Jimmy was there, and Curly made sure of that.

So, it's time to ask again. Does Curly take responsibility?

Well, yes.

But it's too little, too late.

As much as Mouthwashing is about Jimmy fighting furiously against the consequences of his actions, it is also about Curly being forced to watch them unfold anyway. His silence and inaction, once a choice, are inflicted upon him by his mangled body.

Jimmy may have crashed the ship, but Curly gave him the keys. And so it's fitting in the end that Curly is made to take the full weight of responsibility by the man who he helped avoid it so many times.

[lihhelsing]

Part 2

Unknown number: Hey

Steve is sitting on the couch, he has Top Gun playing in the background just because he wanted some noise. The house feels empty whenever Robin has a different shift than him.

The message comes from an unknown number and he just watches as the three dots appear. It’s probably someone trying to sell him something but he’s so bored all he can do is watch. 

When the message finally comes through, Steve feels his stomach dropping in surprise, a small rush coursing through him. 

Unknown Number: It’s Eddie. The guy who was rude to you for no good reason? You know, the one who thought you were being an asshole just to embarrass himself in front of the hottest guy he had ever seen? 

Unknown Number: God, I sound dumb. You probably don’t remember me but it’s Eddie. 

Steve remembers. Of course he does.

Unknown Number: Anyway. I’m making it worse, aren’t I? I just wanted to apologize. I can delete your number after this, but I felt like I owed you. You didn’t do anything wrong and I was a bitch. Sorry. I’ll leave you alone now. 

Steve doesn’t want to be left alone. Without thinking he dials the number. Feels like messages aren’t the best way to handle the situation. 

“Hi,” Eddie says a little out of breath after the third ring.

“Hey,” Steve says back. There’s a smile threatening to bloom on his face because Eddie sounds flustered and Steve kind of loves it. “Sorry I called.” 

“Sorry I messaged,” Eddie says back and Steve chuckles. 

“I’m glad you did,” he says and he swears Eddie’s breath hitches. 

“I’m glad you did, too.” 

Steve had been debating whether or not to message Eddie. He’d told the story to Robin and she laughed at his expense as usual, but then she shrugged and said Steve should let it go. It wasn’t his fault the guy got played and Steve shouldn’t feel guilty. 

He didn’t. He just really couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie. 

After a beat where neither of them says anything, Steve decides to tackle the elephant in the room.

"So, uh, I'm really sorry about the whole catfish thing. I don't know why someone would be this mean."

Eddie hums on the other side of the line and Steve thinks this is it, maybe he'll offer him an excuse and hang up and actually delete his number, but Eddie surprises him. 

"It's ok, you know. I should've suspected it, honestly. There's no way someone as hot as you would be interested in someone like me."

"You keep saying that and yet I remember giving you my number anyway," Steve says playfully. 

"Yeah, 'cause you were feeling sorry for me." Eddie says back and Steve actually scoffs. 

"Well, no. I actually thought you were pretty cute," Steve shrugs even though Eddie can't see him. He's never that forthcoming but there's something about Eddie that keeps pulling him in and he just wants to see where this is going. 

"Pretty cute, huh? I'll take it."

"I can tell you what else I thought when I first saw you over… Dinner?"

Eddie's laugh fills Steve's ear and it's a glorious sound. 

"You want to take me to dinner?"

"Yeah, of course. If, you know, it's not too weird. I know I'm not the person you thought you were talking to but maybe I can be cool too."

Eddie hums again and Steve thinks he's probably debating if it is too weird. He's also oddly curious about the whole thing but he has no idea if Eddie would want to talk about it. 

"Yeah, ok. We can do dinner."

Maybe he's going to find out. 

X

Steve has always been good at first dates, but this thing with Eddie doesn't really feel like a first date. 

After their awkward first call and Steve asking Eddie out on a date they just started texting. A lot. Because of Steve's crazy shifts at the coffee shop and Eddie's weird hours at the bar he worked on was kind of hard to find a time for their date, but it was like neither of them was in any rush for that. 

Steve discovered he was a little obsessed with finding out things about Eddie. Like how he always dreamed about becoming a rockstar but actually loved his job at the bar and creating different drinks and just getting to meet different people all the time. He also told Steve about his uncle, who he loved with all his heart, and how his dad had disappeared from his life right after his mother died. 

Talking to Eddie was easy in a way Steve had never known with anyone else and he really enjoyed it. He particularly liked the little night time routine they created. Steve would call Eddie whenever he got home, knowing Eddie was just getting ready to go to work, and they would talk, sometimes until Steve was fast asleep in his bed and Eddie was driving to the bar. 

But after a month, Steve is itching to see him. Even if it's just so the two could talk in person, he kind of wants to look at Eddie and take notes on all the little things about him like he'd done so many times with every picture Eddie had sent his way. 

So he calls Eddie and tells him Robin finally agreed to switch shifts with him next friday so they can go out. 

Steve leaves out the part where he had to promise to do her chores at the house for a month and had to make up some story about needing to see a doctor. She hadn't been budging whenever he said he wanted to go out on a date with Eddie because she kept telling him she couldn't miss her classes just because Steve wanted to get laid so, yeah, a little lie wouldn't hurt. 

"So, Friday. It's a date?" Steve asks a little nervously on the phone. He's already showered and is laying in bed with his hair dripping wet. Too excited to talk to Eddie to bother blowing out his hair. 

Eddie hesitates. Steve hears in the way his reply takes a minute to come. In a second he second guesses everything. Maybe Eddie had been talking to him just to realize Steve really wasn't the person he thought he was talking to. Maybe Eddie-

"Steve?" Eddie asks on the phone and Steve gets brought back to reality. "Sorry. Don't overthink this…"

Too late, Steve thinks. He says, "so it's a no on the date?"

"What?"

"You don't want to go on a date with me," he doesn't ask now. "It's fine, Eddie. It was worth a shot and it's fine if you realized you didn't-"

"Oh my god, will you shut up? Of course I want to go on a date with you. It's just… You know, I'm weird and messy and I talk too much and you're… You know. You."

"I'm… Nothing special."

"Now, you and I both know that's not true. I mean, you're hot. I won't lie, I started talking to you because I had never had a guy that hot talking to me and wanting something with me. But now I see you're so much more than that. I just… I don't want to disappoint you. What if you don't like me in person because I'm awkward and too skinny and talk too loudly and dress weird and-"

"Now you are overthinking this. I gave you my number and I asked you out on multiple occasions and I just… Really like talking to you. I would very much like talking to you in person over dinner. And then maybe inviting you over to my place so we could keep on talking, maybe. We could, uh… You know, fall asleep on the same bed for once."

Wow. Steve has no idea where all of that came from but he realizes he means it. 

Eddie's voice comes out a little strangled when he speaks, "Just sleep?"

Steve coughs, feels himself blushing. What is up with all that? Why is he suddenly acting like a high schooler? 

"So is that a yes on the date?"

"Yes, Steve. That's a yes on the date."

Previous | Next

[uriekukistan]

JJK 266 & Megumi's Childhood

i wanted to talk about megumi and his childhood for a bit, and how it ties into what happened in the most recent chapter, specifically the reasoning behind why yuuji's "i'm so lonely without you, fushiguro" was so moving for him.

i sincerely believe that everything about megumi and the way he acts can be traced back to being abandoned as a child, and i have a lot to say about this that doesn't pertain to this chapter, but that's for another post. for now, i want to talk about the logic megumi adopted to explain why he'd been left behind as a child, and how that carries through to 266.

the elephant in the room first: this is not a safe space to defend toji. you can say whatever you want about him "loving megumi," but it doesn't change the fact that he wasn't a good father, and he was never around for megumi. he gave megumi the first of many wounds, the one that megumi built his whole sense of self around.

what brought this up for me is this line that megumi shares to yuuji after yuuji has made contact with his soul in 266.

i've already talked a bit about how i don't think this should be taken literally (you can read my full thoughts here), but to paraphrase: megumi isn't saying they are literally walking side by side, rather that he holds them to the same level in his mind, and he wants to see them achieve peace and happiness. it's also implied by the "seeing off" part that he is standing back and watching this happen. he isn't a part of said peace

in that post, i touched on the way megumi is always willing to shoulder the burden of being a "bad" person when it comes to tsumiki and yuuji, and how that relates to this line, but for the sake of this post, i specifically want to draw the comparison between this line, and what megumi says to gojo in ch79 when talking about his dad.

he assumes that when toji and tsumiki's mom leave them behind, it's because they're going on to live a happier life without the kids. he adopts this mindset at a very young age, and with the previously mentioned line, we can see how it's carried through until now.

megumi has internalized the idea that he's nothing but burden that drags other people down. his young mind couldn't come up with any other explanation. he thinks he's the dead weight that's been cut in order for toji and tsumiki's mom to achieve happiness, so he believes that no one can be happy as long as he's around.

he also comes to accept that he will always inevitably be left behind. he assumes that everyone will outgrow him and move onto something better, so he lives in anticipation that he will be abandoned again eventually, hence, it is natural for him to envision the two people that matter the most to him needing to leave him behind to achieve happiness.

enter: yuuji.

he basically outright rejects the idea that he would be happier without megumi around. he tells megumi directly, "no, i'd be lonely without you." and he says this to child megumi, the one who only knew the feeling of being left behind and the idea that everyone else would be happier without him.

this is what pushes megumi to finally fight back, because he realizes his life actually is worth something to someone. he sees that him being gone won't make the people (or uh. singular remaining person) he cares about happy.

[imminent-danger-came]

Sun Wukong Knew About MK the Whole Time: A Theory

I am currently hyped up on leftovers and iced coffee, so let's do this!

I've talked about this before, here and here, but I think it's finally time I wrote an official post. You can go and read those posts if you want to (I definitely hit the nail on the head with some of this stuff), but I will be compiling a lot of what I said on those posts here!

So. Let's get the Mr. Elephant out of the room first: The David Breen Tweets. (thread here).

I see this tweet mentioned a lot whenever I bring up SWK knowing about MK, and honestly, this is a far cry from the "it's been confirmed that SWK didn't know" definite answer everyone's been implying.

So let's break it down!

#1: "Monkey King ain't the father"/"Monkey King isn't his dad." Well of course! Being born from a stone means you don't have any parents. I see it like this: Wukong isn't MK's dad, but he's also not NOT MK's dad, it's a secret third thing (creator and creation). Or, perhaps Wukong didn't help create MK at all, but he at the very least was involved in the circumstances that lead to MK being created/being born from the stone. (Aka eldritch abomination MK theory. My Beloved. Okay sorry.)

#2: "Monkey King was ripping his way through memories looking for MK, but kept coming back to the stone. He doesn't know why." So, while Wukong was ripping through memories, he didn't know why the scroll kept spitting him out by the stone. This is not a confirmation that Wukong didn't know about MK and his origins. It also begs the question: how did Wukong know MK was in the scroll to begin with? There's also some speculation to be had about why Wukong was so desperate to find MK to begin with:

MK: "Monkey King did this?" Macaque: "It looks like he's been tearing his way through his past—trying to find his way to.." MK: "Me."

(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)

-

What was he so afraid of MK finding? Or, what was he afraid the scroll would force MK to experience? I think these are questions worth asking.

#3: "Wukong's trying real hard to leave the 'not being open with MK' days behind after s3. Problem is he's got lifetimes of info to catch them up on." Well, this one is a DOOZIE. One: we already know MK doesn't know everything about Wukong and his choices because he doesn't know Wukong killed Macaque (thank you 4x11). Two: "trying real hard" and "successfully doing" are very different things. And three: YOU DON'T JUST DROP INFO LIKE "Hey, did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" ON TOP OF SOMEONE RANDOMLY. Especially not MK. You have to prepare them for it.

Wukong is trying to do better and be better for everyone around him, but that still takes work. That still isn't easy. He's still going to make mistakes, which means he's not going to always go about being open with MK in the best way.

Sun Wukong: “Point is, mistakes happen, but so long as you leave the world in better shape than you found it, then it’s all good. Right?”

(4x01 Familiar Tales)

-

This scene—to me—feels like Wukong is trying prepare MK for his eventual "Hey did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" conversation he wants (and needs) to have down the line. Yes, SWK is trying to be more open with MK, but he's also just not going to be given that chance before the truth comes out.

MK: "Yeah right, if Monkey King really was my dad don't you think he would have said something by now?" Mei: "Yeah...because he's normally SOOOOO forth coming with information." MK: "Well uh, whatever—when we find Monkey King's stone, then we'll just ask him!"

(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)

-

Notice how they never asked Monkey King that question? From a writing standpoint, why bring this up at all if it wasn't to imply that (even if Monkey King isn't MK's dad) he wasn't involved with MK's creation in some way?

ANYWAYS.

NOW THAT THE BREEN TWEET THAT HAS RUINED MY LIFE IS OUT OF THE WAY, let's get into the evidence given to us throughout the entirety of the show. Starting with this:

This isn't a scene that takes place during the "A Hero is Born" special, as I'm sure plenty of people have noticed before now. Of course, this could have just been Monkey King "scouting out a successor", but with everything we know now doesn't that...feel kinda weird?

We were told at the beginning of the show that Monkey King gave MK his powers, but now we know that's not true. MK has had his own powers this whole time—and that's something Wukong, at the very least, knew:

Sun Wukong: "Listen kid: You fought demons, and you didn't die, and you made it here! Not just anyone can lift my staff, but you did." (1x00 A Hero is Born)

-

MK: "This whole time, I thought my powers came from the staff! Sun Wukong: "The staff's just a big 'ol stick bud! It takes someone special to lift it." (3x03 Smartie Kid)

-

There's also 1x09 Macaque, which I have mentioned before:

Macaque: "Ohohoh no, can't you hold the magic staff anymore? Well, you know what that means—there really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick."

This scene is then followed by MK lifting the staff, which only happens because Wukong encourages him.

MK: "Ugh, I can't! I'm not strong enough." Sun Wukong: "Kid! We're definitely going to have words later, but it's time for the Hero Stuff!"

(1x09 Macaque)

-

Ultimately, Wukong knows MK can lift the staff again even after Macaque supposedly stole all of MK's powers. He knows MK can beat DBK (more on that later). He does something similar to all this in 3x14, being the one to let MK face the Lady Bone Demon, powered by the Samadhi fire, alone (even after Pigsy tries to stop MK):

Wukong want's to protect MK. That's why he went to face the Lady Bone Demon alone in the first place—but here, he let's MK stop the end of the world all by himself. Why would he let his beloved student face not only LBD, but a reality ending flame alone?

Because he knows how much power MK has. Because he knows MK is capable of doing it.

This all brings me to my main point: If before now we were supposed to believe that Monkey King gave MK his powers, and he so clearly didn't, how would Wukong not know he didn't give MK powers. And because he clearly knew he didn't give MK any powers, why would he not question where this kid's insane level of power came from? He had to have "chosen" MK to be his successor for a reason right?

ESPECIALLY because Wukong never planned on being a mentor in the first place:

Sun Wukong: "I know I can never make it up to you. Honestly, I- I never thought I'd live as long as I have let alone be someone's mentor—turns out I'm not very good at it. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry MK. For all of it."

(3x14 Destiny Fulfilled)

-

This was also alluded to in 3x05 Amnesia Rules:

Pigsy: "Of COURSE you don't remember the kid—one day you are going to grow up to be a terrible mentor!" Sun Wukong: "Ha! Zhu Bajie, can you imagine me teaching someone? HA!"

-

So, Wukong clearly didn't ever want to become a mentor, and this directly contradicts what Wukong says to MK in "A Hero is Born":

Sun Wukong: "You're perfect!" MK: "Perfect for what?" Sun Wukong: "To be...my successor!"

Honestly, think about it: has Wukong ever once actually needed a successor? When given the opportunity, he goes off and tries to handle things on his own anyways (Leaving in s2, wanting to go and reforge the Samadhi Fire on his own, going to stop LBD alone). It's the classic "we're being told one thing and shown another" trick.

Sun Wukong: "No no no- in case you forgot I'M retired, you're the one supposed to be taking care of the bad guys." (1x01 Bad Weather)

Even in 2x01 he's lying:

Sun Wukong: "Aw, come on bud! I promised myself that when I found a successor I'd go see some friends, take a tour of my old stomping grounds, just cut loose you know?" (2x01 Sleep bug)

It's proven in the next episode, and by the fact that all of his friends are dead/gone, that literally nothing he said here is true.

And, it's also note worthy to point out, that by this point Wukong had already disappeared for hundreds of years. Why step in again at all? Why put the effort into getting a successor you definitely were never prepared to have?

MK: "*sigh* You think Monkey King ever felt like this? Maybe that's why he stayed up on this mountain, just having a good time with you guys. You know cause- cause he knew he'd be out of the way where he couldn't hurt anyone he cared about." Macaque: "Or, he was doing his usual Wukong thing and being a lazy peach eating idiot. Ignoring all the worlds problems.

(4x09 Roast of the Monkie Kids)

-

So, I don't know about you, but I'm going to trust Macaque's insight on this. I'm not sure Wukong ever planned on coming back. Sealing DBK, he effectively cut off one of his last ties to the world (please go read wlw-wukong's thoughts, they are delightful), and he had already left the world alone for a long time. Why did he feel the need to train a successor now?

The simple answer is this: because he knew he needed to train MK and teach him to control his powers, and DBK's return was the perfect way to do it.

NOW. THE S4 MK VISIONS.

So, the visions MK see's all through out s4 (4x03, 4x04, 4x05, 4x06) are of Wukong ripping through the scroll and going to the stone—David Breen confirmed that himself in the above tweets.

Here's a list of what we see:

(4x03 The Great Tang Man)

-

(4x04 Pig Napped)

-

(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)

-

These are what I would say are the visions of Sun Wukong trying to find MK in the scroll. Yet, they are distinctly different from what Subodhi presses MK to remember ("Tell me of your childhood, your parents." "You do not remember?" "And what else?"):

(4x06 Show Me the Monster)

-

Look at that difference!

Every vision MK has includes the same scenes, except this one. That's why I think it's a memory; that and the way it's framed, with MK closing his eyes in focus. The other visions from 4x03, 4x04, and 4x05 all are unprompted, being forced upon MK. Why make this last "vision" so different from the others? Why show our mystery lady making the stone monkey? That would be because it's a memory—be it MK's, something from the scroll, or a mix of both.

There's also the matter of like, why Wukong going to the stone would trigger any sort of vision in MK to begin with. Overall, it just seems like there something more to those visions.

This would be how I imagine the general timeline playing out:

MK is created (through help of Sun Wukong), a beautiful baby boy pops out of the stone, and Sun Wukong "loses" that beautiful boy (if Wukong knew he was born to begin with) with MK finding his way to Pigsy's.

Then it's later Sun Wukong finds MK again, coming up with a plan to make MK his "successor" (still leaving MK with Pigsy, which I think was the right call lol). As Wukong says in 4x01, "You make ONE mistake, and no one ever let's you live it down! Looks like the ghosts of my past have finally caught up with me." That's what I think this parallel in particular is really trying to show off—in some way, MK is part of his past mistakes, just like Macaque is.

AND SO. I WILL CLOSE OFF THIS THEORY POST WITH EVERYTHING WE LEARNED IN THE SPECIAL.

Sun Wukong: "Heh, nothing gets under his skin more than a monkey. Leave Azure to MK and me."

(4x12 The Plan Man)

-

Sun Wukong: "Kinda embarrassing for the Jade Emperor to have two little cheeky monkeys running circles around him the first day on the job." MK: "Well, one monkey and one unconfirmed, but *laughs* yeah! I'd be embarrassed for sure!"

(4x13 Rip and Tear)

-

Wukong sounds suspiciously confident that MK is a monkey.

Not even MK is sure what he is (which he's probably just in denial, but also "Until I know what I am, what my destiny is?" from 4x08 anyone?), but Sun Wukong is extremely certain about what MK is.

Sun Wukong: "We got this bud. Would have liked to give you some new training with your monkey form, but-" MK: "Oh yeah yeah yeah- uh um- about that— um. I- I was thinking, I've never really needed a scary new monkey form before, so, I just thought maybe I'd use it next time." Sun Wukong: "Next time? Kid, there might not be a next time! This is the time."

MK: "It's be fine! Mei and I have got this awesome new armor and everything! You know, when we look this good? Ain't nothing gonna beat us." Sun Wukong: "Kid. New armor isn't going to cut it! We have to hit Azure with everything we've got! You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!"

(4x12 The Plan Man)

-

If the writers were trying to highlight the fact that Wukong didn't know, this scene would have gone very differently. Instead of "You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!" I think it would have been more along the lines of "I know this is new for all of us, but you've got to accept this part of your power!".

Even this exchange at the end of the special raises some alarm bells for me:

Pigsy: "Heh, don't bother. I've been telling him that for years but he LITERALLY never listens." Sun Wukong: "Yep! That's how we roll."

(4x14 Better Than We Found It)

-

That's how "we" roll? As in him and MK, as two monkeys? Again, Wukong is surprisingly chill and okay with this new form for someone whose first interaction with it was supposedly this:

MK, writhing on the ground in pain, completely destroying the world around him, and unable to control his powers.

Sun Wukong: "Yeah! Go MK, go! Just try not to totally wreck up my stuff would ya-"

(4x13 Rip and Tear)

-

Overall, it gives me the impression that Wukong already knew what MK was before 4x07. This new form didn't scare him because he always knew that's what MK was. MK, to Wukong, is MK! And MK has always been a Monkey Demon. He has unshakeable faith in his protege, and even while MK is absolutely tearing up the world around flower fruit mountain he can't help but cheer for him.

After all, Wukong knows MK is the only one who could defeat Azure:

MK: "Ne Zha's right—while Azure has the Jade Emperor's power and the scroll, there's NO way we could beat him head on!" Sun Wukong: "I mean, some of us could beat him! *ahem* One of us, specifically-" MK: "Nope! None of us at all."

(4x12 The Plan Man)

-

"But Imp!" I hear you say, "Wukong was talking about himself here!". To which I would reply, that's not true! This scene is right after Wukong has already said he only almost beat the Jade Emperor:

Sun Wukong: "But don't worry—I almost beat the Jade Emperor single handed once! Between both of us, Azure doesn't stand a chance." (4x12 The Plan Man)

-

Between this and Wukong's pre-fight convo with MK ("We have to hit Azure with everything we've got!"), he's clearly banking on MK using the full extent of his powers to win this fight. Wukong isn't banking on his own—if he were, he would never have left MK to go and collect the scroll pieces during their fight with Azure.

Conclusion

Sun Wukong knew MK was a monkey the whole time, lol—and fate has plans for MK. Great plans, or foul? Time will tell.

And Wukong has done his best to ensure that those plans are great.

[penelopepine]

Elephant in the Room Pt. 3

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 1592 Content: angst

Price honestly isn't sure what the best thing to do in this situation is, but he decides to softly knock, almost a tap, against the door once more before calling out your name, "I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but I need to talk to you." 

 It goes quiet on the other side of the door, and for a moment John thinks that you, fairly so, left him standing there alone talking to himself. That is of course before the door is swinging open revealing you once more. Your eyes are bloodshot and cheeks are stained with tears. He also sees what once was confusion on your face is now replaced with anger. 

You take a step towards him with one arm raised. It's obvious that you're going to hit him, and while Price could very easily block it he lets you strike him. 

The sound of flesh connecting rings out through the quiet as you slap him across the face. Your breath is heavy as you growl out, "Did you do it? Did you take him?" 

He takes the hit in stride; you're hardly the strongest person to ever smack him before. Taking in your words though Price does feel a slight spark of anger in his chest at the idea of him doing this purposely. Although he supposes it does look very suspicious that he would show up right after Andrew was taken from your point of view. 

The labs luckily don't make any moves, simply watch the interaction in silence. "I promise you I didn't do this. You can think whatever you want about me, but I wasn't the one who took him. I have an idea who did though." He stares into your eyes, trying to show you that he isn't lying. "If we could all go inside I promise to explain what I can." 

"All?" It was at that moment that you finally seemed to take notice of the three other men behind him. 

John steps to the side letting you have a better view of them, "these are my men; they're here to help."

Looking at you though you don't seem to take in any of his words. You shake your head slightly before turning, and walking back inside; leaving the door open for them to presumably follow you.  

Silently you make your way into the dining room, and take a seat at the table. "Sit, please." Your voice is firm, but clearly exhausted. He sits down on the opposite side of you while Soap and Gaz sit on both sides of him. Ghost on the other hand stands in the corner next to the doorway. “Explain.” 

"My team was sent a video of Andrew." John for once found himself lacking confidence, and unsure of what to say. He wanted to tell you the truth, but in your current state being blunt may only hurt you further right now. "They made demands of me and my team for his safe return. A highly skilled team is looking into the video as we speak, and I will be going to get him back as soon as I can."

"Why did they take him to threaten you? How did they connect him to you?" You ask after a few seconds, "He has never even met you before." Your voice cracks as you try to speak. 

"Nothing is confirmed as of now, but I have an idea of how they found him. We'll keep you updated when new information comes to light. I assume after they found him they thought I had simply hid my family from any paper trail that led to me."

"So everything that's been happening is all because of some misunderstanding!" Your anger shining through with every word, "What now? I'm supposed to just sit here and wait; what's to stop them taking Amelia as well if you don't do as they say?"

“That’s actually why we’re here.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

Ghost is surprisingly the one to speak up, “It means you and the kid are being relocated. Time to start packing the essentials.” 

"Lieutenant!" Price quickly repremans, "What he meant to say is that it is no longer safe for you two to stay here while this situation is still active. We'd like to move you both onto base; a house is already set up for you." 

“You’re serious?,” You asked, voice rising in disbelief, “We have to leave our home?”

“It’s for your safety; I wouldn’t be asking this of you in any other situation.” 

“I just can’t believe that you-.” You begin to say before being cut off by a young feminine voice.

“Mom?” 

Price quickly looks toward the voice, and there standing in the doorway is Amelia. 

She looks quickly around the room, taking in and analyzing all the strangers in her home. Pausing once her focus is on him. He knows Amelia is a smart kid, and that with him in front of her there is no way she doesn't know who he is. It's obvious when it finally clicks in her head. Her shoulder tense and her eyes look sharper. "What's going on?" 

Before she has even finished asking her question you are standing and rushing towards her. You bring Amelia into your arms, and begin to guide her out of the dining room. "Let's go talk in your room." You say before addressing him once more, "I'll be down in a bit. Uh feel free to get yourself something from the kitchen. I'll be down to discuss this more shortly." 

No one says a thing as they watch you make your way around the corner and out of sight. The silence only lasts for a second though before Gaz is speaking up, "Cap, you solid?" 

Price takes a defeated breath, “How much have I messed this whole thing up?”

“I’d say this conversation is actually going quite well. She could have refused to listen to us entirely.” 

Soap is next to speak, “If anything I’d say Lt. is the one to make her hostile against him.” 

“She wasn’t going to like being told she and her daughter have to leave their home. That anger of being told that was directed at me rather than the captain. I’d say I’m the only one who helped him during that conversation.” Ghost states back.

Before Soap can say anything further Price interrupts them, “Enough you two; you’re not about to start arguing right now.” 

The room lulls back into silence before Gaz asks him, “What are we gonna do if she doesn’t agree to come with us?” 

"We'll stay here then until she does," John wasn't sure what else could be said to convince you to come with them, but he would stay here with you both until he did, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." 

Before more can be said you're striding back into the room once again; coming to stand across from him. "You're going to get Andrew back?"

"I won't rest until I do." 

You give him a final nod and say, "We'll go with you; to the base. I'll go start packing I suppose then." With that you're walking out leaving Price stunned with how almost simple that exchange was.

The rest of their time spent there was filled with helping them pack their bags into the cars. Soap and Gaz talked the most to you both at this point; not wanting you two to be scared of them. Hoping to be a friendly face in a new location.

John wanted to try and talk to Amelia, but this situation was already overstimulating and he didn't want to add even more on top of that. 

Finally everything was packed and ready to go. Laswell had texted him as well letting him know that the house was now fully set up for his girls.

His girls. Isn't that a nice thought.

It was at this moment though where John took a pause. You two had gotten into one of the vehicles and as much as he wanted to be with you both he wasn't sure if that would be the best right now. Being away right now might be better. Without much more thought to that he climbs into the other car; Ghost getting into the passenger's seat. He watches as Soap and Gaz climb into the car you're in before pulling out down the road back to base. 

It's a quiet drive; neither one feeling particularly talkative. After so long though Ghost surprisingly does speak up. "You should have got in the car with them." 

"Thank you for your input lieutenant," irritation was clear in his voice.

"You need to talk to them."

"That's ironic coming from you; someone who never wants to talk." 

"I'm not the one who discovered they have a family this morning." 

John tightens his grip on the steering wheel, "I think it's best to not overwhelm them right now." 

Ignoring what he just said, Ghost continues, "Time heals all wounds they say. The sooner you have an honest talk with them the sooner the healing can begin." 

"Time is not always enough; sometimes you have to amputate to heal." He retorts despite knowing that Ghost is only trying to help him. "If that means by the end of this they need to leave me to heal then so be it." 

Ghost gives him a hard stare before fixing his gaze onto the road ahead. The rest of the drive is silent.

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

[hiitsm]

Beneath the Surface: The Fifth Piece

Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.

Angst, Hurt, Fluff & Smut is included in this Fifth Piece.

-

Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces

-

As the clock neared 8 PM, you found yourself nervously pacing in your living room, glancing at the door every few seconds. The air was thick with anticipation, and your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. You had spent the entire afternoon trying to keep busy, tidying up your apartment and preparing yourself for the conversation you never thought you’d have.

When the doorbell finally rang, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You opened the door to find Alexia standing there, looking as nervous and unsure as you felt. She wore a simple outfit, jeans and a sweater, but there was a vulnerability in her eyes that made her seem almost fragile.

"Hi," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly.

"Hi," you replied, stepping aside to let her in. The silence that followed was heavy, but you both knew that there was no turning back now.

You led her to the living room, where you both took a seat on the couch. The tension in the air was palpable, but you forced yourself to speak.

"Do you want something to drink? Water, tea, coffee?" you offered, trying to break the ice.

"Water would be nice, thank you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

You stood up and quickly fetched a glass of water, handing it to her before sitting back down. You took a deep breath, deciding to address the elephant in the room.

"Alexia, why did you come here tonight?" you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and pain.

She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the glass. "I came because I owe you an explanation. And an apology," she began, her voice wavering. "I know I hurt you deeply, and I know that I can never undo the pain I caused. But I need you to understand why I did what I did."

You nodded, urging her to continue.

"When we were together, everything felt perfect. But as time went on, I started to feel like I was losing myself. The pressure of my career, the expectations, the constant travel – it all became too much. And instead of talking to you about it, I pulled away. I thought that if I distanced myself, it would somehow make things easier. But it only made things worse."

She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I wrote that letter because I was scared. Scared of facing you, scared of admitting my own vulnerabilities. I thought that by leaving, I was doing the right thing for both of us. But I was wrong. I see that now."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to her words. The pain of the past weeks and months came rushing back, but there was also a sense of relief. Finally, you were getting the answers you had been seeking.

"Alexia, you hurt me more than I can put into words. But I also understand that you were struggling," you said softly, your voice cracking with emotion. "I just wish you had talked to me instead of running away."

"I know," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I know I should have. And I'm so, so sorry for everything."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of her apology hung in the air, a fragile bridge between the past and the possibility of healing.

"Is there any chance we can start over? Even if it's just as friends?" she asked tentatively, her eyes pleading with yours.

You took a deep breath, considering her words. "I don't know, Alexia. It's going to take time for me to process everything. But I think we can try," you replied honestly. "I still care about you, and I think we both need to take this one step at a time."

She nodded, a small smile of hope appearing on her face. "Thank you. I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

As the evening wore on, you found yourselves talking about everything: your past, your present, and the possibility of a future. It was a long and difficult conversation, but it was also a necessary one.

By the time Alexia left, there was a sense of tentative hope in the air. The road to healing would be long and arduous, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like it was possible.

As you closed the door behind her, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of optimism. The past would always be a part of you, but perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for a new beginning.

Hours passed, and as the clock struck midnight, you found yourself lying in bed, wide awake. The events of the evening replayed in your mind, and with it came the memory of how it all began.

It had been a busy Friday night at the restaurant where you worked. You were rushing from table to table, balancing trays and taking orders, trying to keep up with the bustling crowd. That was when you noticed her , Alexia, sitting alone at a corner table. She looked slightly out of place, her casual attire contrasting with the more formal setting of the restaurant. But what caught your attention was the way she was watching you, her eyes following your every move.

When you finally had a moment to catch your breath, you approached her table. "Good evening. Can I get you something to start with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

She smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. "Just a glass of water for now, please," she said, her voice soft and melodic.

You nodded, hurrying to get her order. As the evening went on, you found yourself glancing in her direction more often than you intended. Each time, she was still watching you, her gaze never wavering. When your shift finally ended, you were surprised to see her still there, nursing a glass of water and watching you with an intensity that made your cheeks flush.

As you were about to leave, she stood up and approached you. "Hi, I'm Alexia," she said, extending her hand.

You took it, feeling a jolt of electricity at the contact. "Hi, I'm y/n," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know this might sound strange, but would you like to come to my place? I know it's late, but I just feel this connection, and I'd love to get to know you better," she said, her eyes pleading with yours.

Something about her sincerity and the vulnerability in her eyes made you say yes. You followed her to her car, and before you knew it, you were at her apartment. The evening that followed was a blur of emotions and sensations. You talked for hours, sharing stories and dreams, discovering a deep and instant connection that felt almost magical.

As the night wore on, things began to heat up. One moment you were sitting on the couch, laughing at a shared joke, and the next, you were in each other's arms, lips locked in a passionate kiss. The intensity of the moment swept you both away, and you found yourselves in her bedroom, shedding clothes and inhibitions.

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in her arms, feeling a warmth and contentment you hadn't felt in a long time. Alexia was still asleep, her face relaxed and peaceful. You took a moment to just watch her, marveling at the beauty and serenity she exuded.

When she finally stirred and opened her eyes, she smiled at you, pulling you closer. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

She held you for a long time, letting you cuddle up to her, her fingers gently stroking your hair. Eventually, she got up and made breakfast for you, the simple gesture filling you with a warmth that words couldn't describe.

As you sat at her kitchen table, eating the delicious meal she had prepared, she looked at you shyly. "Would you like to stay the day? We could go for a walk, maybe watch a movie later. I just don't want this to end," she said, her eyes hopeful.

You smiled, feeling the same way. "I'd love to," you replied, and the rest of the day passed in a blissful haze of companionship and growing affection.

Lying in bed, memories of Alexia flood your mind like a bittersweet movie. Despite the ache of her absence, you can't help but smile at the warmth those moments still bring you. The way she looked at you that first night at the restaurant, the instant connection you felt, it all feels so vivid, so real.

Emotions surge through you: longing, sadness, but also a flicker of hope. Maybe there's a chance for you both to start over, to heal together. The thought lingers as sleep slowly creeps in, but just as you're about to drift off, an overwhelming urge grips you.

You reach for your phone, hesitating only briefly before dialing her number. The phone rings, and then she picks up, her voice groggy with sleep. "Hello?"

"Alexia," you say softly, your voice betraying the emotions swirling inside you. "I miss you. I miss us."

There's a pause on the other end, and then you hear her exhale softly. "I miss you too, y/n," she replies quietly.

"I want to try again," you blurt out, your heart racing. "I want to see if we can make this work."

Another pause follows, pregnant with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. "I want that too," she finally says, her voice filled with a mix of relief and hesitation.

"Can we meet tomorrow?" you ask, hope bubbling up despite your nerves.

"Si," she answers without hesitation. "Si, let's meet tomorrow."

As you hang up the phone, a sense of peace settles over you. The road ahead won't be easy, and there are still many conversations to be had. But for the first time in a long while, you feel hopeful about the future, about the possibility of healing and starting anew with Alexia.

With that hope in your heart, you finally allow sleep to claim you, knowing that tomorrow will mark the beginning of a new chapter. A chapter filled with hope, forgiveness, and the promise of a love worth fighting for.

A chapter filled with picking up the final pieces of your broken heart.