#because I thought it would be impossible to get them in the same shot together

[holdmymallowsweet]

Triple Treat

[helenanell]

A Breath of Life || Challengers

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Part Two

Pairing(s) : Reader x Patrick – Reader x Art – Reader x Tashi (sort of.) 

CW: MDNI - 18+ : smut, rough / manhandling. Infidelity. Angst. A lot of yearning. (They all want each other, badly.) Manipulative behaviour. Minor spoilers for the film.

Notes: Female Reader (AFAB Reader) - Absolutely no use of y/n, (because I despise it, sorry)

Wordcount: 9.7K

Summary: You met Tashi in your final year of high school and were more than happy to have lost a tennis match against her. Afterwards, the two of you become inseparable and you find yourself feeling for her in a way that you don’t quite understand.And then things get even more complicated when Patrick and Art burst into your lives. As the years pass, desire, love and hatred all get tangled together...and so do the four of you.

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The idea of meeting Tashi Duncan had been much more intimidating than the actual event itself. It was an odd thing, to idolise someone who was the exact same age as you—a girl not yet out of high school and still so chronically unsure of herself and the world—but it was impossible not to. 

You had watched every single match of hers that you could, staring for so long at the way she moved, that you were left with the afterimage of her burned into your eyes: She was in your thoughts constantly and always waiting behind your eyes when you closed them hoping for sleep. 

You were brilliant at tennis, you knew that you were. But Tashi played like it was the only way she could take oxygen into her lungs; each serve and shot an inhalation and exhalation. You understood, because you felt something similar.

For a long time, you had been ignored or dismissed in every aspect of your life, by everyone. But then you had found tennis, and you were really fucking great at it. 

 Tennis saved your life by making you undeniably tangible. Your existence could not be disputed when someone had to react to your movements, to receive something you had offered. 

It was no wonder then, that for as long a match lasted you were unhealthily obsessed with whoever it was that you were playing against. They made you real. 

But then you played Tashi. You had lost, of course, but it had been a close match, neither of you dominating for long before the other gained the upper hand once more. The gasps from the crowd had been the swelling of some great tide, breaking against your flesh and reinvigorating you like freezing water. 

Once it was over, you felt bereft of something vital. You felt as though you had slipped back into non-existence, only this time it was worse than ever, because your connection to Tashi Duncan was gone. 

But your body remembered. It ached and throbbed, rebelling at all you had put it through- no. All Tashi had put it through. You were desperate to feel it again. 

And your prayer was answered. 

She appeared before you like an angel.

Tashi jogged over to you as you gathered your things after the match, flushed and with beads of sweat glistening on her skin like crystals. And her eyes…they had been wide and dark and enrapturing. And then she had said the words that would change the trajectory of your life: 

“So, when can I play you again?”

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Ruah is the Hebrew word that means God’s spirit, but it is also breath or air and is widely understood to be God’s presence in the world. 

You couldn’t remember when you had learnt the word, but you knew that in the Bible, God had created Adam by breathing life into him. Which was why, when anyone joked about Tashi Duncan being some kind of deity, you could not dispute it, because that is what she had done to you. 

Tashi had breathed life into you.

 Her presence in your life has allowed you to come alive even off the court: you finally felt like a real person. Thanks to her, you knew that when you put your racket down, you did not simply disappear. 

Tashi saw you, on and off the court, and you loved her for it.

But, by the time you were both accepted into Stanford, over a year after you’d first met, you still wouldn’t let yourself delve into that love, and work out the ways in which you felt it. Not only because, you’d only ever been drawn to guys in any romantic or sexual way, but also because you felt undeserving of her.

 How pathetic would it be for you, who crawled at your best friend’s feet, to look up and whimper out words of desire to her?

 You were blessed to have her in your life, let alone to be as close with her as you were. Love was so many disparate things; you could love her as a friend, and hold that carnal aspect deep down. Just having her in your life was more than enough. She was enough.

Or so you thought. 

At the party celebrating Tashi, the two of you had not yet left each other’s side. You were dancing together, close enough that you could feel the ecstasy of victory buzzing beneath her skin as she held your hands and pulled you close. Her hair was silken and flowing down her back and as you were tangled up with her, it tickled against your own exposed skin. 

“They’re still staring.” You whisper into her ear, laughing as she answers by twirling you around and then pulling you back in. 

You practically fall into one another, having to steady yourself by placing your hands on her hips, the beaded fabric of her dark blue dress digging into the palms of your hands. 

“Good.” Tashi answers, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

She turns you enough that with your chin resting on her shoulder, you are looking right at the two boys who had been gawking all night. One dark haired with confidence coming off him in waves, the other more reserved, a different kind of potency bubbling beneath the surface.

The blonde’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head, offering a delicate but untethering smile. 

“You’re going to have to talk to them.” You offer, still held in Tashi’s arms. “Otherwise they’re going to follow you around like lost puppies all night.”

You gasp and squirm away as your friend playfully pinches your side.

 “Do you really think they’re just looking at me?” Tashi questions incredulously.

You laugh at her shock. “Of course they are.” You say, gesturing up and down her form as she continues to sway to the music. 

“Oh my God!” Tashi exclaims, grabbing your hand and pulling you close again. “You’re such a fucking idiot! They’re looking at you, too!” 

You roll your eyes, but can’t help feeling a little buoyed at the prospect of being desired. “Yeah, right.”

Tashi shakes her head. “It’s a good thing you’re so oblivious, I like having you all to myself!”

Heat floods every part of you, acutely aware of the sweat trickling down the back of your neck, your skin uncomfortably warm. 

Only when the two of you have stopped dancing do they come over. 

Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig saunter needfully into your life and had you known then all that would ensue, you still would have welcomed their approach. 

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The four of you had wandered down to the beach. 

Art and Patrick were sitting on deck chairs that sat side by side, their legs stretched out and their gazes lustful, both of them looking at Tashi who was perched on a rock opposite them. In that moment, the moon seemed made only for her, the silver light lining her form. 

You sit on the sand near her, your legs pulled up to your chest. The waves softly hit the beach behind you, lulling you into an even more incorporeal mindset. All that exists to you, is Tashi and the two boys who so clearly want her. 

Despite how desperately you want to engage in their conversation, you’re exhausted and distracted by the knowledge that your parents will already be looking for you. 

You’ve rested your chin on your knees, your eyes drooping shut, when a voice calls out to you. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

 Art is crouching beside you, his hand on your back, his knees sinking into the sand, shifting the surface beneath you. You jolt at the contact, scrambling to your feet as Tashi chuckles.

 Patrick’s gaze flits between you and Art and then over to your best friend, his cheeks dimpled with a smirk. 

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a shaky smile, brushing sand off the back of your dress. “I should go though, my parents will be waiting.” 

“You can’t leave!” Patrick protests playfully, placing a hand to his chest. “You’ll break my heart.”

You grin, spurred on by his own smile and shrug. “And why should I care about that?”

Patrick’s mouth drops open in feigned hurt as Art chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets and stepping away from you. 

You turn to Tashi, meaning to say goodbye, but she’s already up and hugging you. She often kisses your cheek as a form of goodbye, but this time she gets so close that her lips tease the corner of your mouth as hers make contact. You are electrified by it.

You know that she isn’t doing it for you, which is confirmed when she pulls away with her eyes flitting giddily between Art and Patrick who have both gone utterly still as they watched the display. 

 Despite the jealous ache that blooms, you play into it, because another part of you is excited at the thought of working the two boys up. You pull Tashi back into a hug, your hands resting dangerously low on her back as you squeeze her. She giggles into your ear. 

“You already have them wrapped around your little finger.” You say it quietly, but loud enough that you know the boys will hear. 

Over Tashi’s shoulder, you see Patrick smirk again and Art runs his thumb over his his bottom lip with a small smile on his face.

When you do finally pull away, Tashi smacks you on the ass. 

“It was great to meet to you!” Art shouts after you. 

“I miss you already!” Is Patrick’s shouted offering.

You just shake your head and continue on your path away from the beach.

Unbeknownst to you, three sets of eyes follow you until you’ve disappeared from view.

When you get home, you still feel the touch of Tashi all over you. But when your hand dips under the covers, something has changed. Because when you close your eyes, it’s not just Tashi you see. Instead, multiple people are fighting for dominance in your midnight fantasy:

You see Patrick’s licentious smirk.

You see Art’s coy smile. 

They’ve both invaded your mind, corrupted your thoughts that for a year had been so gloriously void of anything but Tashi.

And from that moment, you know part of you will always hate them. For so long, even knowing you can’t have her, all you’ve needed to sate yourself are thoughts of Tashi. But they’ve changed that.

You hate Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson because they’ve made you want more. You want….one of them. You don't know why and you also don’t know which one of them it is. 

But what is clear to you, is that a new itch has arisen within you, and it comes with panic, because unlike with Tashi, you’re certain there’s a possibility that one of them might actually want to scratch the itch for you.

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Had he known how furious you were going to be with him when you arrived, you doubted Art would have been so eager to invite you to have lunch with him in the cafeteria. 

Even when you slam your tray down and drop into the seat opposite him, he still looks happy to see you. He always did. It was infuriating.

“What are you playing at, Art?” You struggle to keep your volume down. You hadn’t wanted to yell at someone in a long time, but he had managed it.

Concern flashes in his eyes, but his lips press together in a way that tells you he knows exactly what you’re referring to. And yet he still asks:

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re fucking with Tashi’s head.”

“I would never do that.”

You scoff, stabbing the flimsy plastic fork into your salad. “Except you are, and I know that you’re doing it on purpose.”

Art pushes his own tray to the side and settles his elbow onto the table, resting his chin on his hand. “Yeah, how’d you figure?”

“Why else would you tell her that Patrick doesn’t love her?”

“Because I don’t think he does. Do you?”

You ignore his question, instead opting to pick up your apple and throw it at his head, hard. He catches it, that damnable little smile still on his face. 

“For fuck sake, Art!” You erupt. “She needs to keep her head on straight. Don’t upset her just because you want her for yourself!”

He tilts his head, blue eyes sparkling as he takes a large bite out of the apple. He chews for a bit before holding it back out to you, speaking through a mouthful:

 “You should have the rest of this, you haven’t been eating enough.”

“Fuck you!” You snatch it from his hand and shift in your seat, easily throwing it and landing it right in a nearby trashcan.

“Well that was a waste of perfectly good fruit.” Art licks some residue off his thumb and then leans across the table. 

You fail to snatch your wrist away before he grabs it. He’s gentle but firm, and as his thumb rubs along your pulse point, you feel the residual moisture from his own mouth he’d left behind, transferring to your skin.

“You don’t have to fight this hard to protect her,” Art presses. “She’s a grown woman.”

“She’s my best friend and I don’t want you to hurt her.” 

Art’s thumb stills, but he tugs your wrist a little closer. “Do you really think I could?” 

You scowl, pulling free of his hold. “You know, the way you and Patrick worship her isn’t the compliment that you both seem to think it is. You’re putting her up on a pedestal, practically deifying her, but she’s not invulnerable. She feels more strongly than anyone I’ve ever known and tennis is her life. If you get in her head and fuck up her game, It will break her and then I will break your fucking hands.”

This time when he’s smiles, it’s rife with fondness for you and it makes you want to punch him for the fluttering it causes in your stomach.

“You didn’t answer my question.” He says simply.

“What?”

“Do you think Patrick loves her?” Art repeats patiently. 

“Do you love her, Art?” 

“Can you please just answer my question?”

“I don’t know!” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m not even sure I would know love if I saw it. All I do know, is that you both lust after her and definitely for each other too, even if you’ll never admit it. You’re all totally fucked.”

Art’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking, but instead of irritation or anger at your outburst, his gaze softens. When he speaks, it is soft and achingly tender:

“You do know love. Because you love Tashi.” 

You let out an embittered laugh. “Of course I do. I tell her all the time.”

“But she doesn’t love you, not in the same way.”

You really didn’t know if he intended for that to sting, especially not with how gently he’d said it, but if he had, he’d failed. You came to accept that fact a long while ago, and while you would always want Tashi in some respect, it was not the all consuming desire it had been. The lust was gone. She was important to you. She was your best friend and you wanted to protect her. 

Unfortunately, the two men you wanted to protect her from, were the ones who had usurped her as objects of desire in your mind.

“Are you trying to find yourself a catchphrase before you go pro?” You sneer at Art. “I’m not sure how great that would look on a billboard for Adidas.”

“You deserve to be loved.” 

You had picked up your cup to take a drink of water, but upon hearing his words, you slam it down again and rise to your feet. He tracks your every move, as calm as ever.

 “I can’t talk to you right now, Art. You’re being cruel.”

You storm away from the table, only making it a few steps before you hear the scrape of his chair against the floor as he rushes to follow you.

 You’ve only just pushed open the door when he crowds up behind you. 

Art’s hand lands on your back as he guides you outside, his other hand rests on your arm and even after he turns you to face him, his touch remains.

 His hand is wrapped lightly around your arm, the other keeping you close- his palm pressed against your lower back. Anyone watching would think he was drawing you into an embrace. You almost shudder at the contact.

 Patrick has always been handsy, touching and caressing you under the guise of teasing, but Art has always moved around you as though you’ll disintegrate at the lightest touch. The way he’d held your wrist back in the dining hall and how he cradles you now, is the most he’s ever touched you.

 Your chest heaves as your flesh tingles.

Art’s head drops, his eyes on his own hand on your arm, as if he can’t understand why he’s holding you. His voice is strained:

“Patrick isn’t good for her.”

And just like that, you’re slammed mercilessly back down to earth. 

Art wasn’t touching you with tenderness or affection, you were just someone he was holding in place so that you had to hear him out. So you had to hear how much he wanted Tashi. 

“Oh, but I deserve to be thrown at him as a distraction so that you can have her?” You snap at him, more hurt than you’ll ever admit.

“You deserve whatever it is that you actually want.” 

Art sounds frustrated now, not at you…but perhaps at what he knows you won’t say. You do want Patrick. But you also want him. You had just never considered that he knew that.

But that’s not what you say. Instead you say–

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Do you want to know why he isn’t good for her?” Art presses, entirely unaffected by your fury.

“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The hand on your back pulls you a little closer, one errant blonde curl falls down from his forehead and brushes your temple. His breath is hot against your cheek. 

“Patrick’s not good for her-“ Art begins, his tone becoming embittered. “Because he wants you. He always has.” 

You rip free from Art’s grip with such force that the friction of it burns, his fingerprints leaving red marks on your arm. “You are unbelievable!” 

“I’m not lying. You know I wouldn’t, not to you.”

“You will say anything to have her won’t you?” You laugh nastily. “What’s the plan, Art? Do you think that I’ll try and seduce Patrick away from her now, leaving a space open for you to swoop in?” 

“Ask me how I know.”

“No.” You spit back at him. 

But you don’t move. 

Your body waits for words that your mind doesn’t think it can handle hearing. Something feels so close to breaking and you can’t help but feel like it’s to do with whatever force binds the four of you together. 

Art steps forward, closing the distance again, he raises his hands and rests them on either side of your neck, his thumbs pressing onto where your pulse is ratcheting beneath your fragile skin. 

“I know he wants you, because the night after he won our match- when he won Tashi’s number- he told me that I should fuck you.”

“Art.” You warn, frustrated tears bringing horrible pressure behind your eyes.

A small group comes out of the dining hall and have to split down the middle, because neither of you move a muscle. Art’s hold tightens, like he’s trying to leave a permanent imprint behind without it hurting you. 

He whispers now. “Patrick told me to fuck you. And I know him. He said that because when he couldn't have you, it excited him to think that I would. That I'd tell him about sleeping with you.”

“That was such a long time ago.” You say shakily, coming completely unmoored.

But Art won’t let it go.

“He still looks at you the same way, and that’s not fair to Tashi. You want to protect her, right? Well what will it do her when she finally notices the way her boyfriend is constantly eye-fucking her best friend?”

You hit out against his chest with a closed fist. The shock more than the force makes him stagger back. 

“You are so fucked in the head! You and Patrick are both pathetic little leeches who want the same girl, but can’t cope with the way it’s made them realise that they also want each other. You know what? I actually think so much would be solved, if you and Patrick just fucked each other!”

You start to back away and Art darts forward, trying to grab you again, but you smack his hand away and turn your back.

“Leave me alone, Art! And leave me out of your shit!”

He calls out your name with ragged desperation, but he does not follow. And even though he’s truly made your skin crawl, something about that makes you even more furious. 

Why won’t he follow you? 

Why do you still want him to?

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You hadn’t spoken to any of them since your argument with Art. 

You couldn’t cope with the realisation that if any of them ever did feel any desire for you, it was only because they saw you as some sort of vessel through which they could access parts of the person that they truly wanted.  

You couldn’t even be said to exist in Tashi’s shadow anymore, you had simply been subsumed by it. Those two men, who you both despised and wanted desperately, would never see you, not really. To them, you were just part of her. But you would not let them ruin your friendship with Tashi. You just wouldn’t.

You knew when you arrived to watch her match that something wasn’t right. She was upset. You could see it in all the minutiae of her: in the way she took off her hoodie, in the way she picked up her racket. Something was really wrong. 

You walk through the stands until you come across Art. 

There are two free spaces to the right of him, so you sit down on the one furthest away, leaving a gap in the middle for Patrick to take up when he arrives. But then time passes and the match approaches and he still hasn’t materialised. 

You feel Art staring long before he makes his move. The air shifts as he shuffles over into the seat directly beside you.

“That seat is taken.” You intone harshly. Your eyes are fixed on Tashi as she prepares. 

“If it was, I wouldn’t have been able to sit in it.” 

“Sorry, I should have been clearer. I don’t want you anywhere near me, so I want Patrick to sit there instead of you.”

Your name is a tentative as he speaks it. “Will you please look at me? I can’t handle you not looking at me.”

Your gaze remains set on Tashi, she looks up and finds you in the crowd. The furious divot between her brow eases for a moment before her eyes snag on the way that Art is leaning into you. She turns her back on the entire crowd, but you know the gesture is meant for you alone. 

Fuck. What the hell had happened overnight? If it was Art’s meddling, you’d kill him. 

“The match is about to start.” You say coldly. 

 Art’s hand lands on your knee, but when you flinch, he immediately pulls it away. 

“I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. I- I need you to forgive me.”

You grit your teeth at his audacity. “Why do you need me to, Art?”

“Because I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my li-“

The match begins and Art never gets to finish his sentence. 

In fact, you don’t speak to him properly for almost a decade after that. Because Tashi gets hurt. Her sporting career ends in the blink of an eye and takes your friendship with it.

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Both you and Art had sprinted down onto the court, your heart breaking in your chest as you fell to your knees beside your best friend, tears gathering in her eyes as she whimpered in pain. 

What had hurt the most though, was the way Tashi had shoved your hand away when you had tried to comfort her.

“Don’t touch me!” She had barked on a ragged breath. “Get away from me. Get away!” 

The hatred had dripped from her words and landed on you like a corrosive liquid. And as it had burned down to the bone, you had looked at Art and the apologetic agony with which he’d regarded you—even as he’d cradled Tashi’s head in his hands—told you what he’d done.  

He’d not only told you about Patrick’s supposed lust for you, but he’d also told Tashi. He had told her that even after her now boyfriend had won her number, he’d apparently been thinking about fucking you. Art had also definitely shared his little insight that Patrick didn’t love her either, which you quickly worked out had contributed to his absence.

So Art got what he wanted: he finally had his hands on Tashi and he’d done it by carving you and Patrick away. 

Art Donaldson was an attentive, gentle, even needy man, but you had been so stupid to think that meant he couldn’t also be calculated and cruel. Because of course he was. What else could win the heart of Tashi Duncan but brutal passion? It was part of what she loved about tennis: the unforgiving force of hits that once you met them, somehow felt like affection.

When Patrick had tracked an injured Tashi down, still waiting to be taken to hospital, he had been ordered away by both her and Art.

You knew that because he’d just told you. It was the first thing he’d said to you when you’d let him into your room fifteen minutes earlier.

Now, you were both sitting on the scratchy carpet of your dorm, passing a bottle of vodka between the two of you. 

You felt bereft. Your body wracked with sympathetic pain for the grief in your mind. You’d lost Tashi today, you knew that. And the man that had caused it, was a man you’d spent years yearning for. 

Art hadn’t only taken Tashi from you, but he’d violently ripped himself away too.

“Art wasn’t lying.” Patrick grumbles after taking another hearty gulp of vodka. 

“Please, don’t.” You beg wearily, taking the vodka from his outstretched hand and pressing it to your lips. Not even the burn of the spirit going down your throat registers.

“I wanted- want, both of you. You and Tashi.” 

He isn’t drunk, only tipsy, but he’s getting there, and his words are sluggish, laced with fury. 

“Shut up, Patrick.”

You fall down onto your back, resting the vodka bottle on your stomach, holding it by the neck as you stare up at the ceiling. 

Patrick has been sitting opposite you, but he moves languidly forward, crawling up over your body. He braces one knee beside your hip as the other slots between your legs. 

You blink up at him as one of his hands rests beside your head and the other falls over your own where it still holds the vodka bottle. You let him take it from you, placing it beside your body before the hand then moves to rest on the other side of your head. 

You’re now trapped beneath him, his lithe body hovering just above yours.

When he leans in, his alcoholic breath almost sears your skin as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. 

“Sometimes, when we were fucking I would imagine that you were with us.” Patrick’s teeth nip at your ear. “I asked her once, you know, and she slapped me. Called me a pig. I think she was just mad because she liked having you to herself. You were such a devoted acolyte, kissing the ground she walked on—“

Fury bursts within you like a solar flare, red-hot and ruinous. He was talking about her in the past tense, as if she was dead to both of you already.

Art groans in pain when you knee him in the balls. You use the chance to shove him off you and he falls to the side, knocking the bottle of vodka over. 

As you stand up, you feel the alcohol seeping into the carpet at your feet. 

“You are a pig.” You hiss down at him.

 It’s your room, but you find yourself storming towards the door. 

You don’t get far before Patrick recovers, clambering to his feet and easily closing the distance with his long legs. 

You groan in frustration as he presses you into the door, one hand above your head and the other wrapping around your torso, his fingers dangerously close to brushing your breasts over your tank top. 

“If I’m a pig, why did you let me in?” He pressed his face into your neck and breathes you in.

 Some of the vodka has evidently soaked into his shirt, because the scent seizes you with the same violence with which he had. It’s a secondary intoxication. 

You words come out weakly, and you hate that it’s because you’re using so much energy fighting the urge to press back into him:

“I felt sorry for you.”

Patrick laughs. 

The smug bastard actually laughs right into your skin, the vibrations travelling all the way down to where your body has begun to ache the most. 

“Oh, sure.” He coos patronisingly. “It definitely wasn’t because you’ve wanted to fuck me for years.”

You should fight him, but you don’t want to. 

You should protest when the hand that he has pressed to the door moves to pull down one of the straps of your tank top. But you simply don’t want to.  You want him. 

Art had been right about both of you.

No sooner has the thin strip of fabric been removed from your shoulder, than Patrick is clamping his teeth down on the exposed flesh. You yelp in surprise, the pain a burst of sordid pleasure. 

Patrick laughs again, the hand he has pressed to your stomach pulling you flush against him. You can feel his need for you pressing into your backside, but in case you had somehow missed it, he bucks his hips up into you. 

You gasp and he laughs again, his tongue now running over the aggravated skin where his teeth have left a dent.

“We both know what this is.” He goads.

“And what is it?” You ask teasingly, your head now thrown back and resting against his chest. He groans into your neck as you grind yourself back onto him. 

“Inevitable.”

“Are you just doing this to get back at them?” You ask, not daring to speak their names. 

An angry grumble you can’t quite make sense of tears out of Patrick’s throat just before he is forcefully spinning you around. 

You get barely a glimpse of his feral smirk before he is easily picking you up again and throwing you over his shoulder. The slap he delivers to your ass is punishing and stings furiously as he practically throws you down onto the carpet.

The bed is right next to you, but the asshole apparently wants you on the scratchy carpet and with a wet patch where the vodka has soaked in.

“I’m doing this, because I have wanted to fuck you, from the moment I saw you dancing at that party.”

 You’ve barely got your breath back after being thrown about, when he is grabbing your calf and yanking you down so that you’re laying completely flat beneath him. 

“But you only ever pursued Tash-“ 

He cuts you off from saying her name by leaning down and pressing his mouth to your still clothed breast. His tongue swirls over the fabric, your nipple growing pert. 

When his knee presses up between your legs, parting them forcefully, your head falls back, strands of your hair wetted by the spilt alcohol. 

When Patrick bites down on your chest far too hard, your hand instinctively comes up to slap the side of his head.

 You’re so shocked by your own burst of violence that you go still at exactly the same time as Patrick, both of you breathing furiously. When he does peer up at you, his dark curls slick against his increasingly sweaty forehead, menace dances in his eyes. 

“Do that again.” 

You wish you could have feigned confusion or indignation for even a moment, but your blood is pumping to all the right places to urge you to make terrible, delightful decisions.

 Your second slap connects cleanly with his cheek, your palm tingling with the force as his head spins to the side. 

Your handprint is already a pink mark on his skin when he wraps his arms around your torso, lifting you up just enough so that he can pull your tank top off and throw it to the side. Your chest is left bare to him and he wastes no time before peppering kisses to your sternum, to your breasts and your neck, his arms still wrapped around you, his nails digging into your back. 

The throbbing ache between your legs becomes far too much to bear, so you curl your fingers into his hair and forcefully tug him away from your chest- a bead of saliva stretching between your flushed skin to his swollen lips. 

You lean your head forward, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting, pulling at it until he groans pathetically. You let him go, beyond pleased when you don’t have to tell him what you want next. 

You don’t want to wait any longer. You haven’t slept with anyone since you met him and Art. 

Art.

 Is it wrong that as Patrick pushes your back into the carpet and pulls down your sweatpants and underwear in one clean tug, that you close your eyes and briefly imagine that it’s Art instead?

You might have found an answer if you had more time, but when you open your eyes, Patrick is over you, his shorts and boxers already discarded alongside your clothes. His shirt is still on, but neither of you have the patience for the second or so it would take to get it off him. 

Patrick smirks down at you before pressing two of his fingers into your mouth, you open gladly, your eyes locked onto each other as he swirls them around. When he’s satisfied, he pulls his fingers out, and then licks his own hand, mixing himself with you. 

He swipes his wet hand over your already slick core a few times before he’s pressing himself inside of you. Your arms curl around his neck as you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Fuck.” He groans, his tongue licking up the side of your neck as his hips begin to move. 

“Patrick.” You plead, your fingers digging into the nape of his neck. 

He knows what you want, nipping at your neck before he is driving into you with bruising force. 

In that moment, as you’re joined in the way you’ve wanted since the moment you’ve set eyes on him, you realise thar Tashi isn’t the only person that can make you feel real. 

As Patrick drives into you–his lips and teeth leaving marks on your flesh that will be wine-dark by morning, and the horrible fabric beneath you leaving carpet burn on your back– you finally know more than tennis can make you feel alive. 

The sex is forceful and punishing, but fuelled by a genuine passion. Nothing but your intermingled breaths and the sound of your joined bodies fills the room. 

If the two of you hadn’t been so lost to your pleasure, you might have heard Art knocking on your door. But you didn’t. 

He did however hear the two of you, so he walked away. 

You wouldn’t speak to him or Tashi again for over ten years.

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

You weren’t in New Rochelle to compete. You didn’t need to. You were on the top of your game, ranked the third best female player in the world. 

No, you were in New York because despite your better judgement-- and the many years that had passed since you’d last seen him--when Patrick Zweig had called you, you’d answered. 

You hadn’t heard his voice since you had told him that for your own sanity, you couldn’t see him anymore.

For the two years you had been together after Tashi had banished you both from her life, you had let Patrick consume you. And you had never played tennis so poorly in your life. 

You hated what that said about you, that you had willingly discarded someone you had genuinely cared for to improve your ability to hit a ball. But hitting that ball was what kept you alive, not him. 

Not only that, it hadn’t taken you long to realise that you didn’t love Patrick enough to let him affect your career.

And yet when he had called, you’d answered. And when he’d told you that Art Donaldson had entered the Challenger as a wildcard, you both knew that you would come. 

From the moment you had booked the flight, to the first step you’d taken into the hotel, you had lied to yourself that you were only coming for the closure that you hadn’t received as a twenty year old. 

But when you stepped into the hotel lobby and saw Tashi disappearing into the nearby elevator, your self-deception shattered. 

You were here because still, after all the time that had passed, you ached for the way that you had felt when she had been in your life. You missed her. And you had missed Art. 

It was a sickening truth of your life, that while no one had fucked with your head or upset you as much as Art had ended up doing, no one else had ever been so attentive to you either. 

Art had watched you—watched out for you—even when you weren’t playing tennis. In fact, in moments of utter stillness, when you had been doing nothing even remotely remarkable, was when you had always caught him staring. He never shied away, or broke his gaze when he was caught, he’d just smiled as if he wanted you to know he would never feel shame for being found looking at you. 

And that had not changed.

You have been sitting at the hotel bar for ten minutes, feeling sorry for yourself and nursing the same glass of gin and tonic, when you feel someone looking at you. 

You turn your head cautiously, your shoulders sagging as your eyes meet Art’s. He’s sitting on one of the small leather couches tucked into the far corner of the darkened room. 

It had been an inevitability, but things would have been so much easier if you never came across him. 

You know you shouldn’t move- part of you had come for closure and you could get that just by watching him compete tomorrow, so you don’t need to talk to him. 

But then Art tilts his head and smiles at you like no time has passed and pats his hand on the unoccupied space beside him on the couch. 

You get down off the barstool.

 As you approach, he watches unflinchingly.

The last time you had heard Art’s voice, was when Tashi had suffered her injury and he’d been permitted to stay by her side when she had ordered you away.

And yet even after so much time, when he greets you with a quiet ‘hello’, the pathetic girl who had pined after him returns.

You don’t respond as you come to a stop right in front of him, the tips of your heels right against the toes of his shoes, but you make no move to sit down. 

It’s of course not the first time you’ve seen him since college, or been at the same event, or even in the same room- you’re both highly successful tennis players, you couldn’t help but overlap sometimes. But neither of you have ever allowed yourselves to get close, or to even speak. 

It has been over ten years of your eyes connecting through crowds and across rooms that felt much larger than they were, simply because there was distance between the two of you within them. 

Art sits forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He’s fiddling with his wedding ring and you can’t bear to look at the familiar way his fingers carry out the gesture. 

When he looks up at you, it's so open and wanting that you almost turn right back around. But then you hear his voice again.

“Can I ask you to sit with me?” 

“I don’t know Art, can you?” 

He smiles, sighing softly as he runs his hand through his hair. It’s short- much shorter than the curls he’d had at college. You like it. It suits him. 

You shift on your feet, crossing your arms across your chest to cover up your nerves. Perhaps you can protect yourself if you look like you’re closed off from him and from…whatever this interaction is about to be. 

Art doesn’t say anything else, but he surprises you by rising to his feet. You stagger back, but his hand reaches out and lands on your side to steady.

His touch lingers for a moment too long, but he does eventually pull it away.

 But he’s still close, too close.

Your hands have fallen to your sides, so it is too easy for Art to reach out and brush his fingers against yours. He doesn’t intertwine them, but he’s doing enough to let you know that it’s what he wants to do. 

He whispers your name. “Will you please sit with me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Art.” 

“When have you ever known me to have one of those?” 

You smile ruefully, but take a step back. His hand chases you, his fingers brushing against yours again as he tries to take your hand. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve known anything about you.” You say, hating how sad it sounds. 

You should be angry at least. His meddling and his desire for Tashi is what ripped you all apart. And he has her now. They have a daughter together.

He doesn't get to ask you for anything, not even if it’s just to sit with him. 

You can’t trust yourself to sit next to him. 

“You do know me. Time can’t change that.” He insists, quietly but firmly. 

You scoff nastily. “I knew Art Donaldson when he was in college. The world famous tennis player who does AD campaigns for sports cars with his wife, is a stranger to me.” 

“Yeah.” Art laughs darkly. “He’s a stranger to me too.” 

You frown at him, growing angry. He seems exhausted and down-trodden. He’s clearly hurting and you hate that you know that—you hate that you‘d been able to tell that even from across the bar—because it means that he’s right: you do still know him. 

“It’s late, Art. You should get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”

You turn away from him and while he doesn’t reach for you this time, he does call out. You keep you back to him as he asks his question. 

“Who do you want to win, me or Patrick?” 

“Tennis can’t decide a victor between the two of you, Art. It’s never been able to.”

When you walk to the elevator, you feel a physical strain as you stop yourself from looking back at him.

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

You were right, tennis couldn’t decide on a winner: it was as fickle and incomprehensible as the human heart. Which was fitting, seeing as Tashi had always described tennis as a relationship. 

You had sat only two places away from her during Patrick and Art’s match, and you know she had seen you. But there had been no reaction, her face had been impassive and set on the court, her eyes hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses. 

Now, the match was long over and a result had been given. And yet there hadn’t been a victory for anyone. Just like you knew there wouldn’t be.

Something had happened on that court between the two men, some silent, inexplicable exchange that had altered the very fabric of them.

This time, when Art knocks on your door, not only do you hear it, but you answer. 

You feel almost shocked when you pull open the door to reveal him, dressed in a grey t-shirt and flannel pyjama trousers. You’re surprised at the sight as if you hadn’t known he was coming- as if you hadn’t readily offered up your room number when he had messaged and asked for it.

You’re also somehow certain that Patrick had given him your number, but you didn’t want to dwell on what sort of exchange had led to him handing it over.

Without a word, you step away from the door, self-consciously tightening the cord that holds the silk robe around your body. You stop and face the windows.

The curtains are drawn, by you stare forward as though the whole skyline is on display to you. 

The door to your room clicks shut.

You hear Art take off his shoes before his feet are padding towards you. 

When his arms wrap around your waist, you close your eyes and savour the sensation. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, so you lift a hand and rest it on the side of his head. 

“I want to retire at the end of this year.” He says and you can feel his exhaustion in the slow breaths that coast over your neck. 

“So retire.” You answer softly, your eyes still on the curtains. “You’re tired.”

You know you don’t need to clarify. Thanks to the grateful press of his lips against your neck, you know he understands what you mean. 

Art is weary of all that he has to be when he’s playing tennis; he’s tired of the effort it takes to play the sport for not just him, but for Tashi too. His wife has been living vicariously through him. He’s been living for two people, taking the strain of two professional athletes combined. 

You know there had never been any point in competing with Art or Patrick, because Tashi would always love tennis the most. 

A shiver wracks your body as Art’s hand reaches for the bow that’s keeping your otherwise bare body concealed from him.

 “Can I?” His request is whined into your hair as he presses his face into the back of your head. 

Instead of answering verbally, you nudge his hand away and untie the robe yourself. Then, you take hold of both of his wrists and guide his hands onto your skin. You let out a sigh of relief when Art finally touches you the way you want him to. 

Your hands are still on him as his fingers move to cup your breasts, but he is the one guiding his movements now. He squeezes, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. 

“Art.” You rasp, pressing back into him wantonly. 

“Can I have you?” He asks, pressing open mouthed, hot kisses to your neck as he palms your breasts. “Please, let me have you.” 

“Stop fucking asking me and just do it.” 

You feel him grin against your neck just before he backs away, pulling back your robe and tugging it from your body.

The fabric has barely had time to pool at your feet when he’s grabbing you by the hips, his fingers digging in as he turns you. 

When Art’s lips finally claim yours, you moan unashamedly. His kiss is gentle but assured, you struggle for breath as he refuses to release you. Then, his hands are cupping your ass and he’s lifting you up. 

With his lips still moving hungrily against yours, Art settles you onto the edge of the bed. When he draws back, your lips chase after him and he smiles, grasping your face in his hands and giving you one more brief but searing kiss before he’s dropping to the ground.

 His hands press into your knees, forcing them apart as he begins to kiss and lick up your inner thighs. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching where his mouth ravenously meets your flesh, tracing his path as he works his way closer to where you want him most.

When he reaches the top of your thigh, Art peers up at you through his long eyelashes, already looking drunk on you as he presses another kiss to your burning skin. 

“Lay back.” He instructs gently. 

But you’re too transfixed to listen- too desperate to see the moment his lips land on your core to look away.

He smiles at the realisation, delighting in your shudder as his tongue darts out and licks a line up your centre. 

“Oh my- fuck!” Your head falls back, already lost in the feeling of his mouth's devoted ministrations. 

As Art pleasures you, one of his hands skates up your stomach and gently presses down, asking rather than forcing you to lay back. This time you oblige, your eyes closed as your hands fist in the sheets. 

“You deserve so much more than I can give you.” 

You smile to yourself. Only Art could grovel as he gives so much pleasure.

Tightness begins to coil in your lower belly, but the moment he adds a teasing finger to his tongue’s movements, you realise you can’t wait. 

“Art- stop.” You gasp out, sitting up and resting your hands on his head. 

He halts immediately but doesn’t remove himself from between your legs. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, his hands rubbing soothingly along your thighs. 

“It’s not enough.” You say, tugging on his hair, trying to get him to come to you. “I need you.” 

Art doesn’t have to be asked twice, but he also doesn’t rush. He presses one last kiss to your now very sensitive folds before he’s climbing over you. 

You shuffle back, settling yourself onto the middle of the bed and even as Art takes off his clothes, he watches you. It’s as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. 

Now completely naked, he lays himself over you, his arms braced beside your head. He positions himself so carefully thar it’s almost as though he’s trying to fit himself to the shape of you- every divot and curve perfectly aligned sp that you’ll be fused together forever. 

As Art sweeps hair out from your face, his blue eyes bore down into you with an adoring intensity. 

You smile up at him and he rewards you by cradling your face in his hands, he lowers his head, his nose brushing yours as he gently takes your lower lip between his teeth.

Only when you understand what he wants and you open your mouth, does he kiss you again, his tongue delving in deeply.

As he seeks to consume you, your hands run down his back, squeezing his sides with your thighs. 

Art’s still kissing you as one of your hands reaches the curve of his arse, you dig your nails in and he jolts, his mouth moving away from yours and travelling down your neck. 

Tentatively, you move one hand around and down between his legs and when your hand wraps around him, he falters, his kisses stopping. 

“Is this alright?” 

Art moves again, licking the sweat slick expanse of skin between your breasts.

“Anything you do will be alright.” He assures, his lips brushing a nipple and making your back arch. 

“Do you want to have sex, Art?” You ask, barely restraining yourself.

His breaths are hot against your sensitive breasts when he answers. “Please.”

It is a joint effort as he slides inside of you. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he presses kisses into yours.

Art groans as he begins to move achingly slowly, his hips rolling over yours with precision. 

You're happy like that for a few minutes, both of you revelling in your closeness after years subjected to absent desire for one another. But eventually, you want more.

You yearn for more force and luckily as you buck up into him, Art gets the message.

 As one of his hands moves behind your head, cradling it so that he can keep kissing you, the other wraps around your thigh, and pulls your leg higher over his hip, allowing himself to get even deeper. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He says in-between sloppy kisses, moving rapidly as you moan and whine. “You’ve always been so beautiful.”

Even with him inside you, making you feel more desired than anyone ever has, your mind drifts to that first night you had met him. The first night you had met Patrick. 

“You stared at Tashi.” You say.

You aren’t accusatory or upset, if anything the acknowledgement if it turns you on more. All four of you have always had a desire for the other, and it feels powerful to finally acknowledge it.

“-That night on the beach, you couldn't take your eyes off her. Neither of you could.” 

“I wanted you.” Art asserts with a particularly powerful thrust. “I- I wanted you so badly, but you went home.”

You nod, pulling him in for another kiss as you meet his thrusts. 

You understand his thinking. You’d often wondered how things might have changed had you not gone home early that night. If you’d stayed on the beach and then gone to their hotel room along with Tashi. 

Entirely content with just moving as one, you both fall silent and somehow Art curls over you even more tightly, like he wants his whole body to hide yours from the world. 

After you’ve both found your release he takes you into the shower and cleans himself off of your sensitive skin, each swipe of the washcloth accompanied by a kiss.

It ends up being time wasted though, because when you return to the bed, he takes you twice more.

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

You wake up with Art’s head resting on your bare chest. He’s laying on his side, one arm stretched out on the pillow above your head and his other hand resting on your hip. 

You’re sore in the most pleasant of ways as you sit up. You try to move slowly but Art stirs anyway, his head turning to press open mouthed kisses to your sternum. 

You rest your hand on his cheek, meaning to guide him away, but he moves so that he can kiss the palm of your hand instead. 

It’s only when you sigh into his touch, his eyes still closed as his other hand delves between your legs, that you realise why you had woken up int he first place. 

Someone was knocking on your door. 

And then you hear her voice. 

Tashi is calling out your name, sounding almost panicked.

 “Please, open the door, I know you’re in there.”

This time when you push Patrick away, he obliges, but far less quickly than you would have liked.

 In the time it takes for you to throw on your silk robe and gather up all of his clothes from the floor, he has barely got himself to stand up. He’s naked and blinking sleepily at you. 

When you shove the bundle of his clothes into his arms, he rushes to press a passionate kiss to your lips, holding the back of your head with his free hand.

You aren’t sure you want to know whether he’s truly still half asleep and genuinely hasn’t realised what is happening, or if he just doesn’t care that his wife is outside the door.

Flushed but furious at his casual demeanour, you push Art into the bathroom and close the door, just as Tashi knocks again.

 The repeated request for you to come to the door tumbles from her lips like a prayer.

You brace your hand against the door as you draw in a fortifying breath and smooth out your hair. You swear you can feel her through the door. 

The moment you open the door, Tashi is bursting in and closing it behind her. You step back, waiting for her to make the first move, for her to shout of attack or go charging into the bathroom. But she does none of those things. 

Instead, Tashi pulls you into a crushing hug. You go still, shocked but healed by it at the same time.

She pulls back, taking your face in her hands.

 “You’re a phenomenal tennis player.” Tashi says it rapturously. 

If you weren’t burning up at the feel of her hands on you, you might have laughed at how ridiculously perfect it was that those were her first words to you after over a decade. 

Tashi communicated and connected through tennis. She loved through tennis.

All you can muster is a very sincere: “Thank you.”

Tashi brushes your hair out of your face, tucking a stray piece behind your ear. You find your hands lifting, resting atop hers where they hold your cheeks.

“You need to let me coach you.” Tashi demands almost possessively.

“I have a coach.”

“They’re not me.”

“No, they’re not.”

And just like that, you were snared again. 

You had gone years without any of them, and with one word, you had allowed all three of them back into your life.

 Only this time, you know it might actually kill you if any of them leave. And perhaps it would kill them too. 

Only time would tell.

[loveandfictionforall]

Could I request for Daryl Dixon? Maybe reader getting sleepy as they sit together and falling against him and just all fluffy? Headcanons or oneshot I don‘t care

It’s just a small one shot but I still hope you will enjoy it 🙈

Reader falling asleep against Daryl

It was a quiet night on the Greene Farm. Nobody was around, all of them already sleeping. The woods were quiet too, not even a single leaf was shaking in the wind. While everything was quiet, the sky looked bright, with so many stars that some of them seemed like one blob.

Tonight was Daryl’s watch. Like always you wanted to use that time to have some privacy with him. Most of the time you were not even speaking, sometimes talking in a hushed whisper. But tonight wasn’t one of those.

The day was turbulent enough, with Shane being dramatic and a little bit insane. There happened a big fight between Rick and Lori and you knew, Daryl’s nerves were frazzled. His face showed clearly his mood, his features tight in annoyance.

You knew silence and darkness helped him to relax. You hoped you helped him to relax too. That was the only reason you were there, sitting with him on the Camper from Dale.

With a small sigh you leaned a bit against his arm, slowly inching a bit down so you could rest your head on his shoulder. For a second, Daryl tensed. His head turned towards you, scanning your face until a small quirk appeared with his lips. Then he looked forward to the woods again.

Happy with that, you did the same. But unlike Daryl, you were really tired. You could have went to sleep but without Daryl at your side, you didn’t feel were secure and so you had to settle with being tired tomorrow.

Your thought became unfocused. Your head moved with Daryl breaths. Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep. At first you noticed it, pulling them open again with sheer will force but Daryl’s comforting scent and warmth made it much more impossible.

„Go to sleep.“ came the quiet voice of your boyfriend as he looked down on you. He had seen you struggle for the last 20ish minutes. He knew what your answer would be. Stubbornly you shook lightly your head, not quite meeting his eyes because you knew he looked at you with his eyebrows drawn up. Instead you closed them and that was your biggest mistake. You didn’t even really noticed it but Daryl certainly did.

With a small chuckle, he slowly gets his arm that’s trapped between the two of you and wraps it instead around you.

„Like always.“ was the only thing he said as he softly kissed your hair and continued his lookout.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Daddied: based on true events

“Come on bro! Why are you being so weird?” Lee mocked standing in next to the bathtub with a bottle of alcohol. “I mean you got the perfect body and what not I think but I’m really just not into guys”. Lee laughed at Nathan. Lee knew that Nathan has a crush on him. People even claimed that they had a bromance going on with how much time spent together but after all the months of Lee casually flirting, Nathan finally made a move. Only for Lee to laugh in his place.

Nathan walked out of the bathroom while Lee could be heard laughing at him. Nathan was heart broken. The first man that he actually felt a connection to. The one he grew to love. Just laughing at him. Rubbing the tears from his eyes Nathan laid in his apartment. In bed bundled up trying to find the courage to face the world again. He couldn’t continue on with this “bromance” any longer after being lead on for so long. He could feel his chest hurting. His heart breaking while he sobbed. He played back memories he had with Lee. Fun nights of playing games. Even the night when Lee told him that he better get his ass to class and get his degree. Lee was actually the reason he graduated college because he wanted to make Lee proud. He was the only one that pushed him to do. He even reminisced on the nights they would drink together. The deep conversations they had. The more Nathan thought. The more he got angry. He wanted Lee to pay for wasting his time. For breaking his heart. He didn’t want to feel this pain again. There was one memory that Nathan was playing back in his mind. And suddenly he shot up in bed. A dark smile creeped across his face.

—————————————————————-

Lee woke up the next morning with a hangover. “Ohh god how much did I drink?” He moaned to himself. His phone was buzzing. It was the chick he was flirting with at the very last night. “We need to talk was all the txt said”. Why would be need to talk? She was just a random chick he was flirting with. Dismissing the txt he swaggered to the bathroom. In the mirror flexing his muscles. And giving himself that perfect smile that got him out of so much trouble. His phone began to ring. He answered it not thinking about it only to hear the screeching of some chick. After a bit he said “oh yeah I remember you …. Wait… what are you saying!? WHAT!!” He dropped the phone. Apparently one of his hookups from a month ago was pregnant. He sat down on the edge of tub. Head in his hands trying to figure out what he was going to do. His stomach grumbled telling him it was time for breakfast but he wasn’t in any mood to eat. He walked back to his bedroom. Putting on some clean clothes. Not even noticed as he passed the mirror that his muscles had lost some definition.

He made it to the bistro next door, ordered some breakfast and took a seat trying to take in the news that he was going to be a Father. His phone rang again. This time the girl from last night. Reluctantly he picked up the phone. “THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE” he screamed and slammed his phone down. She was claiming to be pregnant with his child too! And they didn’t even sleep together ! Lee picked his sandwich up to take a bite of his food when his hands caught him off guard. Dropping to the food he stared at them. Seeing dark hairs creeping out the back of them and traveling up his arms. Hurrying home he ran to the bathroom and took his shirt off only to see the dark hairs poking out of skin. His chest and abs has a dark sheen on then and turning sideways he could see his back had the same peach fuzz hairs that were growing. “WHAT IS GOING ON!”

Grabbing the razor he began to shave off all the hair that seemed to being growing like wild fire across his body. And only the. Did he see it. His muscles seemed to be deflating. It was starting to look like he skipped a few gym sessions. “What happening !!” He screamed.

His phone rang and he dreaded seeing who it was. Nathan. “I’ve decided to distance myself from you. Yesterday really hurt and I need this for me”. Lee sat on the bed. Head in hands sobbing. The one person he needed right now more than ever and he pushed him away. Lee didn’t know what was happening. He still felt hungry but all he wanted to do was sleep. It’s all he wanted to do with all the uncertain changes happening.

———————————

Waking up Lee felt more groggy than ever. He didn’t want to get out bed. Staring at the ceiling he didn’t know what to do. He can’t be a father of 1 kid let alone 2! His stomach churned and he knew he needed to eat something. Sitting up in bed he screamed. “WHT THE FUCK IS THIS!” Running to the bathroom he was horror struck. Hair was everywhere.

A thick beard coated his face. His muscle definition was gone. And his stomach was poking out as if he drank beer all the time ! Look down he see. Thicker legs that lead down to some meaty sweaty feet. That had the beginnings of dark hair coating them. He began to swap from all the changes. He was fucked. He didn’t know what was happening. And …and…was he SHORTER!! Judging his height from the bathroom sink he had to be at least 4 inches shorter!!

————————————————

A week last Nathan went to Lee’s apartment. The door was unlocked. Walking into the space the living area was completely disheveled. As if someone was tearing the place apart. On the couch was a large circled wrapped in a sheet. Water dripping from the opening where a face would be as the hunched over figure appeared to be crying. “Hello?” Lee’s could be heard. “GO AWAY!” Deep and raspy. Nathan sat down beside him. Asking what’s wrong? Lee responded that he was a freak. The exposed flesh that Nathan could see was a pair of large hairy feet that he could smell. Leading up to some tree trunk legs coated in the thickest hair he had ever seen on a man. He heard Lee’s stomach growling. “Do you need me to make you something to eat ?”

Whipping the sheet back Lee screamed “does it look like I need something to eat!?”

Nathan jumped back. Shocked at how large Lee had gotten. “I can’t even leave this apartment anymore without people calling Jaimie. Jaimie!!! I’m not my damn father ! I’m not!!” Lee’s phone wrong. “Oh no not again!!” As if on command his body immediately responded. His stomach swelling larger. His hair growing thicker and his body becoming smellier. The dark smile crept across Nathan’s face. Lee caught a glimpse of it. “You did this! You and your spells! What did you do!?” Nathan stood up and laughed at him. “Well. You always said you would never follow in the foot steps of your father. After the other day, I decided to make you do exactly that”. Le was becoming his worst nightmare. His own father and a father to many as well.

[bandsofmarv]

Cold to the touch

Enemies to lovers Bucky x reader

TW - smut, angst

Part 2

The compound was unusually quiet, except for the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. You sat at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea, hoping the caffeine would get you through another tense morning.

It wasn’t the missions, the training, or even the threat of constant danger that drained you. No, it was him.

Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. Resident pain in your ass.

You had been forced to work together on Steve’s orders, a new partnership meant to “strengthen the team dynamic.” Instead, it had only strengthened your resolve to avoid him at all costs. Bucky was cold, distant, and maddeningly closed off. And worse, he seemed to go out of his way to make your life hell.“Up early, huh?” His voice, low and gravelly, startled you out of your thoughts. Speak of the devil.

You turned to find him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, his piercing blue eyes fixed on you. He looked as stoic as ever, but there was a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral.

He shrugged, moving to pour himself a cup of coffee. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, until he broke it.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” It wasn’t a question.

You blinked at him, surprised by his directness. “Not everything is about you, Barnes.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure this is,” he said, turning to face you fully. His gaze was sharp, assessing, like he was trying to read your mind. “What’s your problem with me, anyway?”

“My problem?” You laughed bitterly, setting your mug down with a clink. “You’re arrogant, impossible to talk to, and you act like the whole world owes you something.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, the faintest crack in his icy exterior. “You don’t know the first thing about me,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“And whose fault is that?” you shot back. “You don’t let anyone in. You’re like a damn wall.”

He took a step closer, his steel-blue eyes burning into yours. “Maybe I don’t let people in because I know how it ends. People like you—they don’t stick around when things get messy.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard, cutting through your anger like a blade. For a moment, you saw the man beneath the armor, the one haunted by a past he couldn’t escape.

“That’s not fair,” you said softly, your tone losing its edge. “You don’t get to push people away and then blame them for not trying.”

Bucky stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he closed the distance between you, his metal hand bracing on the counter beside you.

“Why do you care, anyway?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why not just walk away?”

Your breath hitched as his proximity sent a shiver down your spine. His scent, a mix of leather and something distinctly him, filled your senses, making it impossible to think straight.

“Maybe I’m just stubborn,” you said, your voice shaking slightly.

He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Stubborn enough to take a chance on someone like me?”

You didn’t have time to answer. Bucky’s lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrelenting, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long. You gasped against his mouth, your hands flying to his chest, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

He made the decision for you. His flesh hand slid to your waist, tugging you against him as his metal fingers traced up your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His kiss was messy, full of teeth and hunger, but it was exactly what you needed.

“Bucky,” you breathed when his lips left yours to trail down your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasped, his breath hot against your skin. “If you want me to, tell me now.” But you didn’t. Instead, you pulled him closer, threading your fingers through his hair as his hands roamed, exploring every inch of you like he was memorizing it.

“Hard to love, huh?” you murmured, your voice teasing despite the breathlessness.

Bucky pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark with desire. “You have no idea.”

And then he kissed you again, and for the first time, you thought maybe you were willing to find out.

[mccardswife]

You are enough

heyy! this is my first one shot so it is not the best but feel free to give any tips!

arsenal wfc x teen!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, bruise, angst, sh, a few cuss words, suicidal thoughts, protective awfc and fluff in the end. Please remind me if I have forgotten some! (don't read if you get triggered)

(not proofread so if any mistakes give me a heads up)

word count: 2144

enjoy!

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Being a 16 year old professional football player is not the easiest thing in the world. Yes, you do what you love everyday but it has its up and downs. I signed for arsenal 3 months ago but I had no idea it would be that difficult. I don't feel like I belong here, all the girls on the team are truly amazing don't get me wrong, but it is so hard living up to the standards. Especially when I am me, just me and only me. I don't feel enough

After my alarm went signaling me to get ready for another day of training, the thought of going to training today dreaded me, and it has for weeks. Silence, I lay in my bed in silence just thinking of all the bad things that can happen today. If you are wondering where my parents are, the truth is. I live alone, yes, alone as a 16 year old in England. My parents has never supported me playing footy, not even when I was little. They wanted me to have a career that was meant for "girls" and not "boys", but that sounded bizarre. Football is for everyone, but they don't seem get that into their head. My parents kicked me out when they found out I signed for Arsenal, we lived in London, but since I got kicked out I had to get an apartment for myself. It was pretty hard but my best friend helped me and I am so grateful thankful for her. I have not told the team about me living alone for 6 months, they would go all protective and wanting to know why but I can't tell them, not yet. I don't want to be judged. Saying to the girls that I got kicked out of home, even thinking about it makes me feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

I lay in bed, in pain. Physically and emotionally. Last night, after I was out grocery shopping I took the metro home as always, when a man probably doubled my age walked over to me. I then realized that it was my father, he dragged me into a corner and asked me if I still was into all that "football shit". I got furious and started whisper shout at him, turned out that was not the best idea. He started going about me being a disgrace to the family, not only the family but the world, that no one is ever going to love me for playing football, and then he punched me right in my cheek. I felt thrilling pain in my face, but he grabbed my wrists hard and said in my face "You useless bitch, no one cares about you and never will".

That sentence goes through my mind over and over again. I was almost impossible to fall asleep last night, because of the pain I was in both physically and emotionally. What my father told me, got to my head and I was thinking. Maybe he was right, I am a disgrace, no one will ever love me, maybe if it would be better if I just disappeared.

Well, well. Got to get up for training and stop thinking. Seriously y/n, get your shit together...

I walked downstairs to the bathroom and got dressed and tried to cover the bruise on my cheek that now has gotten all blue, yellow and purple. It was really painful and very difficult but totally worth it when I was done and I literally could not see a damn thing. Then I did the same to the bruises on my wrists and after I tried to cover up the dark bags under my eyes but that was a bit more of a job.

Suddenly I got the urge, the painful urge. I took the hidden blade from the mirror cabinet and drawed lines on my right arm. One, two, three, four.

Then I looked at the clock. Shit, I thought. The training starts in two hours and we have breakfast together in the dining room an hour before. The metro usually took 30 minutes, I packed my bag in a hurry and left.

When I walked in to the facility I heard two voices yelling my name behind me. Lotte and Alessia walked quickly over to me. "You excited for training?" Alessia asked you. "Yes totally" I said in a lie, I think they saw that I lied because it did not look like they believed me at all. "What about you Less and Lotte?" you said to try getting the attention away from you. It seemed that it worked because they said in sync "Yes". Less and Lotte looked at each other and we giggled.

When we walked in to the dining room, everyone was there. I tried to brush off all the looks I got. Why does everyone look so suspicious today...

"Come here Y/n, sit with us", Leah said after I served myself food. Leah sat with Katie, Kim, Lia, Caitlin, Steph, Beth, Viv and Kyra. I walked nervously over to them and sat down in the seat beside Beth. They started talking and I just sat there quietly eating my food being in my thoughts until Viv said "Y/n, you've been quiet, are you good". They looked at me concerned, "Me? Yes of course Im good, just sat thinking about the upcoming training today". I lied straight through my teeth. "Okay, if you're sure. but you can talk to us though", Caitlin said. I just said a quietly thank you, and then we walked to the locker room and got ready for training.

We started doing some light jog then got into some training drills. I was already sweating, it was surprisingly very sunny outside today and I wore a long sleeve training jersey because of my scars. "Aren't you hot in that", said Jen to me. I just simply shrugged her off saying no.

I was so exhausted, my body is so tired and I really want to lay down. When we had water break I just laid down on the grass. Sweating, I rubbed my face because I was so tired.

Beth and Viv walked over worriedly, they have become my unofficial parents after my transfer to Arsenal. They looked shocked when they saw me. "What" I said in a panicked voice. "Why do you have a big black bruise on your cheek?" Beth said, "And on your wrists?" Viv said. "Is something going on at home?" Viv asked with a knowing look. "No, no of course not, why would you assume that".

After training everyone looked worried and concerned, my passes and shots got sloppier and sloppier, I was hurting more and more. When I was about to leave, Kim, Katie, Leah and Jen cornered me. With Beth and Viv looking guilty behind. They brought me into a private room and they started telling me what Beth and Viv told me. Then all of a sudden Kim said "You know, all the team has been worried and concerned for a while, I can't remember how many times the girls have repeatedly come and talked to me". I looked at her ashamed. "Why do you have bruised?" Katie asked, "I just fell" I said, the lie obvious.

I started scratching because my scars got really itchy, I really wanted to just disappear right there and then. Then Leah grabbed my right wrist softly and pulled up my sleeve, the last thing before I broke down was gasps from the girls. I started trying to make up excuses but none of them were having it, "come with us" said Beth, "We will bring you to the medical room and then we want you to tell us everything". I desperately did not want to but I knew it was no chance of me getting out of this.

When we got to the medical room they put me on one of the beds. My scars were infected, that is why they itched so damn much. Jen was cleaning up my bruises while Kim cleaned up my scars. I know the people who worked here could do it but I did not want them right now, it is bad enough that now the whole team knows.

Leah then said in her stern but soft captain voice "Now tell us everything". I tried to tell her that it was nothing. What Katie said broke me "Please babe, we only want to help you. We know it has been hard for you but please". Then I broke down again, full on shaking and crying. Desperately gasping for air.

I started telling them everything, how my parents are and that they has never supported me once for the choices I have made, that I don't feel like I belong here because I am only me... When I spit out the truth about me living alone for 3 months because my parents kicked me out and that they were abusing me for years before, I saw tears in all of the girls faces. It was a heartbreaking sight. I told them how I ran into my father last night and what he did and said to me and I started sobbing again and saying silently to myself "It is true, what he said. I am a reckless disgrace full kid".

"You are enough y/nn, I promise you babe" Viv said. All of the others agree but I could not help believing my fathers words. "Actually me and Beth have been thinking for a while, we have a spare room and big enough place for 3, and you are like our kid. I am being for real, we love you as our own family. All the team does, but we wondered if you wanted to come live with us?" Viv asked me. I was hesitant and I think Beth saw that because she said "We are not taking no for an answer". I felt a smile creep up on my face and as desperate I was trying to hide it all the others saw and started smiling too. I said to Meadema, "thank you moms". I realized what I said "shit fuck, sorry I did not mean to".

"Y/nn it is okay, you have no idea how glad that made us, you are like our kid" Beth and Viv said.

After a while of me telling them about my thoughts, how I have been feeling for the last weeks, they decided to get me into therapy. We have a therapist at the facility so we agreed to be going to her twice a week. "I am grateful for all of you, I really am but I just feel like a bother" I said quietly.

"No babe stop" Jen said, Katie walked over to me, she took her hands on my head and said "You are enough, a hundred times enough". "You are like a younger sister to me, it breaks me to see you like this, not only me but all of us. We and all the team loves you. You are the baby of the team."

"We will always protect you, and we will get your so called parents locked up." Kim said to me. "Not Viv and Beth but the other parents" Jen said in a playful tone.

"That I understand" I said with a smile of my face.

Leah asked me if she could tell the other girls and the Gaffer, she needed to anyway but it was nice she asked me. I said yes then she walked outside.

A few minutes later they all came in. Kyra, being kind of like my annoying twin ran over to me and hanged on for me for dear life in a bear hug. I started explaining to them a bit more, and reassured them that it was not their fault but my manipulative parents.

I also said that I called Viv and Beth mum and that I am moving in with them and Lessi and Laura said at the same time "about damn time". All the team broke out in laughter.

"I am sorry for not telling you but I feel a thousand times better now after telling you, I have been scared and not felt at home here for a while but telling you and knowing that I can count on you girls will help me. The whole team is kind of like my family I never got and I can't ask for more than that. I am so grateful for all of you, and I love you"

"We love you too y/nn", Leah said with the softest most heartwarming smile ever. "You are our family, blood or not you will always be family" Kim said reassuring.

"Always," Katie said

"And you are enough" the team said lovingly.

[diejager]

I can request yandere! König and yandere Ghost?

She used to be a soldier before she was kidnapped by them, so she uses what she learned to beat them and escape from that room she was locked in.

Although she can't find the exit

No Escape Cw: DARKFIC, kidnapping, yandere, possessive behaviour, obsessiveness, nonconsensual drugging, basement wife, tell me if I missed any.

You learned that compliance was a better choice in this situation, having fought tooth an d nail against them only to be punished and had your privileges taken away from you. You started in the basement, waking up confused and disorientated, throat dry and head heavy from the substance König and Ghost used to drug you. You trusted Ghost, having worked with him so often - too many to count on both your hands and feet - and learned to put your trust in him to watch your back and protect you.

You, however, couldn’t say the same about König, you didn’t trust him, he was the enemy, someone you and Ghost had fought so many times, shot and wounded time and time again —only for him to come back stronger, more determined and more dangerous. Yet they worked effortlessly together rather than fight on every decision, they’d work through their differences, barked and fought but they clung to the thought of having you to themselves. It was the driving force behind their cooperation.

They took you, locked you away in the darkness of a home in Austria (an idea they both agreed to, Austria was farther and calmer, less populated and you wouldn’t be able to get help if you escaped, a stranger to the country’s spoken language) until they deemed you compliant enough to let out. You threw snide remarks, leering comments and a disrespectful and bratty attitude to push the act, to have them believe you weren’t thinking of playing them.

You were punished for every act of noncompliance, Ghost was cruel but he didn’t beat you, he used words and training —dog training, to train the disobedient mutt out of you. He did just enough to stop you from always biting, but never too much that you lose your feistiness, the aspect that made keeping you interesting and fun. König was more direct, holding you down and making you listen to him, he went without beating or training you. He had firm hands and he knew how to use them, praising you whenever you did something well and giving you privileges like going to the bathroom, showering alone, taking a walk outside or sleep in a bed.

Compliance had worked so far, they were lost to the domesticity of having a soldier turned housewife cook for them, care for them and give yourself to them. They had grown so used to having you at their beck and call, giving you whatever you wanted: books, food, a bed, a Tv, but never your freedom. That was something you had to work harder for, to pull them deeper into the delusion of your love and subservience towards them. You went unsupervised for long periods of time at home, leaving the doors locked and windows shut whenever they left.

And today seemed like the right time to move, you’d been warned by Ghost that they would be gone for a while for a joint mission (SpecGru and KorTac had somehow formed an impossible alliance), leaving you home alone with enough food and ressources to last a year. You watched them leave, their cars driving out in the distance and disappearing behind the trees once they turned the corner. You waited an hour, and hour of patience in case they came back for an emergency or because something in the plan changed, but you didn’t hear the tell-tale sound of car engines or the imposing steps up the porch.

You scoured the house, eyes roving over every little crevice and hands feeling the walls for any weaknesses. The windows were bolted shut and the grates made of hardened iron that were simply too sturdy for you to cut through without the right equipment, and the doors were locked from the outside, both men holding the only copy of the key. You wanted to keep forcibly unlocking the door as a last ditch effort because it would take more effort than needed to pry it open. So you searched the house, up the attic and down the basement, and their individual offices, who unfortunately had every drawer locked with a master key.

As you broke apart a few pins to make a lock pick, you heard two cars drive up the driveway, the loud rev of the engine and the angered slam of a door. You cursed, swiftly moving down the stairs and into the hidden corner of your reading spot, hidden by the arch between the indoor porch and the kitchen, away from the entrance’s sight. You hadn’t prepared for them to come back home —a mistake. You’d picked a random book, flipping through the pages and acting as if you spend the time reading, hoping that they wouldn’t grow suspicious.

“Come here, love,” there’s a dark edge in his done, a deep and angered growl. “Now.”

They knew. Not only were you too late, but you were caught as well. You’d lose all your freedom, your privileges and your soft affection, replacing them with the cold and damp air of the lonely basement. You bit your trembling lip, stopping yourself from spitting at them and worsen your punishment. You felt their disappointing and wrathful gaze without looking at them, it oozed off their broad shoulders in waves.

“You know what you’ve done, ja, Bärchen?” König sounded more disappointed than mad, his tone on the edge of condescension, his blue eyes dimmed with sorrow.

Ghost was quick to grab you, handling you roughly against his chest, gear and vest scrapping your skin. He had you down the basement stairs and chained to the mattress in seconds, a leather collar wrapped around your neck. He scruffed you, pushing your nose into the musky bed and thin sheet of your new room, glaring down at you with deep browns, his chest puffed with angered breaths and throat rumbled with menacing growls.

“You’re stayin’ here until we see you’ve learned your lesson.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders

[loveandleases]

I actually forgot asking you this XD

So imagine a type of personality - like a shy, sweet, easily flustered MC, maybe in pastel or cozy comfort clothes / A badass, take-no-shit-from-no one MC with the combat boots, jacket and tight jeans. (Stay with me here)

Then the ROs discover (whether through online, insta post or just a friend msging) one of those black and white model pics - and it's soft!MC being hot, sexy and a 'status fatale' (gender neutral way of femme fatale? ;; closest description I can get at 4am) vibe OR badass!MC being classy, elegant and fabulous in a fancy, charming way? How would the ROs feel seeing that?

(and just so Cam doesn't get jealous of another photographer took this photo - let's say the photo was taken by a mutual friend of MC and Cam, who is also a photographer, is happily dating/engaged/married AND is totally doing this to tease both MC and Cam 🤣)

Feel free to decide if this is in rela or not :3 enioy~

Lol, where you playing Fields this late!? Status finale really has a ring to it~ (lets do crush stage!)

❤️Cam - He was just doom scrolling when he saw the photo, it took him less than a minute to recognize MC. Dressed up like that. They look hot and he is definitely pouting. Pouting and screenshotting the image for future...inspiration? Yeah, yeah inspiration. He needs to do a new shoot anyways. He will try and beat around the bush about it, why MC took the photo, why they didn't tell him. Then he will just say that as your bestie, you owe him a shoot. That is totally how this works. He needs to be allowed to capture you in the same way...this isn't for selfish reasons. He will get flustered, looking at the photo again. MC captured in a different way, its thrilling to him. When MC gives him a questioning glance Cam will stutter pretend he has something to do. That friend who took the photos is going to get a very rude wake up call, because Cam wants all of them. Very gimme gimme gimme.

💙 G - They get strangled on their tea, smacking themselves on the chest to try and catch their breath. G was just looking at the recent clothing line coming up, knowing they needed to get something nice to wear to see their parents. What they didn't expect was to see MC, clothes hugging their body, the look in their eyes made G's skin heat. Had they seen it before? Those eyes looked so alluring and yet, G can't remember if this is the first time they've seen it or not. G will be annoyed that they enjoy how MC looks, that it does more than make them think about MC. A thought they will try to knock out of their head as soon as it pops in. They will bury the emotions as deep as possible, after they look at the photo a few more times. No matter how much they hate to admit it, they always thought MC was attractive. With a bitter taste in their mouth there is one thought in G's mind, I wasn't the only one who thought so.

💚 Kara - Too cute! She's screen shotting, sending MC a text. "Why don't you ever take cute photos with me?" She was serious in her question, though she ensured to send a few emojis to come off as playful. Granted Kara's online presence is high, these photos she would keep to herself. Just like she did with the memories of when she would spend time with MC when they worked together. There's nothing wrong with thinking your sibling's ex-fiancé is attractive, sweet, funny. Especially when they're your friend. There's no underlying meaning as to why Kara makes the photo her background...none at all.

💛 M - They had seen the photo when scrolling, just something to break up the time between when they waited for their editor to reply back. M had tossed their phone behind them, and hopefully somewhere that they could find later. Their face bloomed with a blush, one they covered under their palms, face pressed so hard against the desk that it would likely leave a mark. They might have squealed appreciatively at the photo...maybe...possibly. To them it almost seemed impossible to be MC, they never looked like that before. Maybe that's why their so flustered, because they looked different. Should they ask MC about it? Damn it....why are you so....in a maid costume though? Alright...time to find their phone.

💜 Isaac - They try to ignore that feeling in their chest, the one that is telling them they like what they see, they want to see more, want to be around MC more. In fact they go so far as to close out the page and try and push the image from their thoughts. Which is easier said than done. MC looks good, great even. So good that it's leaving Isaac feeling like they should have saved that damn photo. That worries them, this feeling of wanting to hold on to them, even just a fraction. They'll make a flirty remark later on when they see MC, because that's what they do, a nice little cover. Flirt and feign ignorance. Ignorance of what they feel for MC, of the potential there.

🖤 Ardent - Damn, color him impressed. In fact color him more than impressed. Who knew the person he sees fighting to keep their eyes open, dressed in pjs, hair all messed up when its time for rent could look like this. Well....to be honest Ardent thought MC looked good like that too, but he will deny it. He thinks MC looks hot, too hot. Unfair really considering he doesn't get to see MC all dressed up. Ardent would be a bit annoyed, because why does the people who get to photograph MC get to witness how good they look and not him. That picture is coming with him, across the hall where he will annoyingly knock on the door until MC answers, and he will make a quip about if you're making such good money modeling he will want more rent. (just to get under mc's skin) "Ya know what, I need a decoy date. Mom's coming in down. Call it a favor? Or..I'll even let you skip out on next months rent."

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 sharing a bed w bill

it was quite an evening you were having. you and the guys decided to have a little get together, the five of you were laughing, drinking, and just overall doing stupid shit teenagers would do.

you haven’t spoken to bill at all tonight.

you’re not quite sure why it’s like this. you got along with everyone, especially tom. so why wasn’t it the same case with his brother? at this point you thought he hated you. whenever you came over, he didn’t really acknowledge you, nor made the effort to even have a conversation: let alone say hi.

one could ask, why didn’t you make the effort?

that’s because you did. you did, on multiple occasions, and it was either always a shrug, a nod, or one worded answers. “he definitely doesn’t like you, not even as a friend.” you decided at this point to be content with it. it feels as though despite the obvious gap and disconnect between the two of you, bill and you remained civil for the sake of keeping the whole group together.

it also didn’t help that you had a little crush on bill.

but he’s basically proven with his actions he’s wanted nothing to do with you. cross out all possibilities that bill will ever like you back..

downing another shot, tom screams at the burning feeling down his throat. “WHOOO! i could definitely go for another, dare, truth, or not,” you however, could not take anymore shots. being the idiot you were you decided to occasionally pour yourself some without even playing the game. you knew that this will be a long night being within the proximity of bill so the alcohol was much needed. but now, even one whiff or drop of alcohol will have you puke.

“y/n, truth or dare?” georg asks, he almost slurs on his words, obviously tipsy, and gustav is already blacked out on the couch sleeping peacefully. “mm, i’ll do a dare.” both georg and tom made eye contact with one another and grin, tom then whispers something in georg’s ear and georg snickers, tom following.

what they had in store for you, you would’ve never expected.

“i dare you to share a bed with bill tonight.”

what? say what now? did you hear that correctly?

your jaw most likely and probably did reach the floor, even though you were so close to it. because why would they even declare a dare like that? especially tom? it’s not like you could even step out of the dare, because if you did. you would have to take another shot, and you were NOT trying to throw up tonight. so you just had to suck it up.

you may ask, what did the other guy’s think of this? you had once talked to tom about your concerns and he just brushed it off, saying some bullshit like “that’s just bill, it’s nothing personal.” did he do this to purposefully fuck you over?

oh, but it felt oh so personal.

bill didn’t speak, although you could tell that he was a little displeased by this dare. his eyes went wider for a second to then quickly return to his nonchalant face. did he really hate you that much? you twiddled your thumbs not knowing the words to put in your mouth.

tom and georg were just giggling. those fuckers. unfortunately for you, you’re so drunk that any doing anything requiring physical strength is impossible. you’ll deal with them tomorrow morning. “is.. is that okay with you bill..?” you ask, bill just heavily sighs and walks away from the living room. assumingely this gives you the okay and you follow behind after him.

“goodnight y/n! have fun!” georg and tom chant while waving you out of the room teasingly. shit, did they know you like bill? did you make it that obvious? you look behind them and look at the stupid looks on their faces, sticking up a middle finger at them as they laugh a little harder.

this is going to be a loooong night.

“sleep on that side.” bill tells you, he attempts to sound stern but his voice is softer than from what you usually hear. which is like, once in a blue moon. his makeup is all cleaned off and he’s in his pyjamas. you couldn’t help but stare at his side profile as he fixes the bed up before letting the two of you get in.

you nod at him, slipping into the bed and under the sheets. he turns off the lamp and does the same as you. you feel the bed dip with his weight added to it, as he adjusts himself to get ready to sleep. your bodies are facing opposite ways, clearly wanting nothing to do with one another. but how true is that?

“goodnight,” you say, no answer.

wow, he can’t even say goodnight back? you feel so disheartened by this. the constant attempts to get to know him, make conversations with him, all for nothing. it feels as if he’s completely shut you out by building a wall between the two of you, even though so close together. why couldn’t he just want to be together with you like you wanted with him?

you decided to just close your eyes and try to sleep the night off. as soon as it’s morning, you’d leave the room to let bill be. there’s no point in good-mornings if all he’s going to do is ignore you.

a pair of arms begin to wrap around your body, pulling you closer to theirs. is that.. bill..? is he drunk..? no, he had no shots tonight. he wasn’t even participating in the game. this couldn’t be him behind you. it must be a stranger. wait, that’s even worse..

your body is frozen. you don’t know what to do. in the dim light, you look down to the pair of hands that hold you so closely together.

black nail polish. with white french tip.

you begin to feel your face heat up. what the hell is he doing? you’re so confused. head and thoughts conflictingly filled with the thoughts of how the boy who hated you the most is cuddling with you at this very moment.

“i don’t hate you.”

tense. your body tenses at his words. should you reply? oh god, what the hell do i do? the alcohol is making your brain all fuzzy and you just can’t seem to come up with anything to say, being completely silent and motionless. however, the way you’re breathing indicates to him you’re awake.

“i’m sorry, i just don’t know—how to talk to girls… it’s quite embarrassing. i want to get closer. i want us to be.. together.”

it feels as though a thousand weights have been lifted off your chest, your body relaxes within his touch. noting this, bill continues to speak and you hear him out. not like you can say much anyway, you’re shocked, stunned, flabbergasted and quite bashful right now.

he actually wants to get to know you.

“i hope i can make it up to you with this, sorry if you’re uncomfortable. i can let go if you wa—“ you immediately shake your head no. he quietly laughs at this. bill then lets his chin rest on your head while the two of you lay on your side.

he’s so tall his body engulfs you, making you feel safe. safe in a space that once has you so awkward it felt as though whenever you were with him it was like walking on eggshells.

intertwining your hands together, he runs his thumb back and forth across the surface of your own hand caressing it. it soothes you. his hand is soft and warm along with his whole body.

“comfortable?” you nod and giggle at him.

the whole reason why bill “disliked” you was because he lacked experience. reflecting back on it, bill has never really done anything to show that he hated you. he just ignored you or ran away. it’s quite cute.

you begin to feel yourself drift into sleep. it’s so cozy here you never want this moment to end.

bill kisses the top of your head, “goodnight.”

“see man? i told you this was a good idea. i can’t believe for a second you doubted me,” tom smacks georg on the chest gently while georg is taking pictures on his digital camera.

“i am, NEVER, letting them live this down..” georg says as he continues to flash his camera pic after pic. tom runs to the side of the bed bill is sleeping on, posing at the edge of the bed so he can get in one of the pictures.

you and bill were cuddling closely. you switch from your spooning position to you with your head on top of bill’s chest, his arm wrapped around you waist. completely oblivious to this as the two of you were sound asleep.

gustav then walks past the room to use the restroom. he then stops to see the buffoonery that was going on in the room. watching as georg and tom were fucking around whilst you and bill were sleeping. he notes that the two of you were indeed hugging while sleeping. still drunk, he thinks while scratching his head,

“they must be really good friends now.”

[kenmjiro]

ೄ◌ྀ ˊˎ Scars and bad memories | Carl Grimes

Carl grimes (TWD) x Fem reader

TWS: angst, kissing, mention of child abuse

Carl was locked in his room throwing darts, he did this frequently since they let him out of the infirmary after losing his eye.

He was distant, he didn't talk to anyone except his father and Michonne occasionally, he didn't leave his room and that had me worried, I have come to see him every day, but he doesn't speak to me and barely looks at me

We had been together for 6 months before this happened, but I just don't know what will become of us anymore. It hurts me to see him like this, but I will continue fighting, because I love him and I will do everything possible to prove it.

With my legs trembling with nervousness I decided to go in, I wiped the sweat that was accumulating on my palms on my pants, I gathered my courage and pushed the door.

When I saw Carl with his back to me, he was throwing darts from the side where he had been shot, and there were no darts on the target, they had all hit the door and he seemed more and more frustrated and absent.

“What are you doing here again?” His voice sounded so cold and hard that for a moment I thought I had hit an ice barrier, and as soon as I could answer, a cruel lump of anguish had formed in my throat.

“I-I came to see little Judd.”

He didn't even look at me and continued throwing darts at him.

“She's in her room, so don't bother me.

That hurt me, but I'm not a weak girl and my duty is to help Carl, there's no time to get depressed.

“Talking to me like that won’t give you back your eye.” I knew that my comment would piss him off and I waited expecting the worst from him, that he would run me out of his room or yell at me, whatever he did to hurt me I didn't care, I needed to remove all that indifference that was consuming his feelings.

“You think I care? Go chase squirrels, you silly little girl.”

“No thanks, I already had lunch.” My sarcastic response seemed to bother him more and he began to throw the darts with more fury than before, but half of them hit the door and the rest fell to the ground.

“Do you remember when we met and I had a huge bow with me?”

“No." He cut me off abruptly, trying to silence me.

“You said it was impossible for a girl as short and skinny as me to have enough strength to shoot it, you made fun of me for days until she saw me shoot it.”

The memory seemed to have softened his bad mood; he stared vacantly at a spot on the wall and smiled imperceptibly.

“Yes, I still don't understand how you did it... You were tiny.” He gave a small, fleeting chuckle. "You still are."

Carl had spoken almost in a whisper, but since we were alone, that was enough for me. In the end he gave up throwing the darts and looked at the ground.

“I just needed my arms, correct posture...and an eye. “Carl turned around to look at me, he seemed angry, but at the same time I could see that I was getting to him.

“What are you getting at, y/n?”

“You don't need everything to shoot a bow, or a gun, or to throw darts, you just...you just have to have the way.

“Yeah? and when you lose an eye… what is the Y/n way?” Carl began to approach me in a threatening manner. " which ?!?"

“I can teach you.”

I raised my hand to caress his face, but he moved away from it as if my touch burned him.

“Oh yeah? Try it, see what you can do as a hunter.”

“First stand up straight, put one foot on the shooting line and the other behind.” With my hands I gently corrected his posture and pushed his leg so that it was aligned. “stand on your side and fix your target with your dominant eye.”

“You will say with the only eye I have left.”

His voice was bitter and sarcastic, but he was relenting.

“That's all you need, sheriff.”

I carefully took his throwing arm and told him to take it back to throw the dart, I left his side and he looked at me skeptical, but he threw, and it took him half a second to realize that he had hit right. the target. He hid his surprise and finally spoke to me without his tone of indifference and bitterness.

“Not bad hunter, now I understand how being so little you had better aim than dad.”

“You see, everything has its side... You just have to find it.”

He looked down so that his hair hid how heartbroken and sad he was, but he knew him better than I knew myself, he knew how he felt.

“And how do I find the side to this?”

She pointed to the side of his face where there was only a thick bandage.

I approached him calmly and hugged him, he didn't return the gesture, but his entire body was trembling.

“Why are you still looking for me?” His voice was barely a whisper full of pain. “I'm horrible, I can't force you to stay with me like this, please don't feel sorry for me and just leave.”

My heart hurt so much hearing his voice, so fragile, so vulnerable.

“I don't feel sorry, I love you. Please believe in me, we will get through this together, let me help you. ”

"You do not have to do it. “I’ll be fine alone… You don’t deserve to spend your life with a monster, full of scars and bad memories.”

My heart broke at his words, I separated from him and forced him to sit down on the bed in the room, it's time for me to show him my own scars, I calmly took off the blouse I was wearing and then the small tank top, leaving me only with a sports bra.

“Do you see this scar?” I said pointing to my stomach “When my uncle got drunk he was very violent, he tried to hit my mother, but she locked herself in her room and left me alone with him. "She was scared, and trying to escape I fell on a glass table... her blood must have scared him, because she left me lying there and walked away."

“and-I didn't-I had no idea…”

“and you see these marks here?” I took off the leather wrist guards I always wore. “A year before I found them I ran into a group of unpleasant people... Our leader made them angry and as punishment they handcuffed me and other kids to a fence and attracted the attention of some walkers so that our parents could see it, I I tore the skin on my wrists to free myself, I didn't even care about the pain, I just had to pull. And do you see this ugly mark?” I brushed the hair off my shoulder and showed him a large asterisk-shaped scar. “I had a small accident with Daryl when we went out to look for Beth, a guy tried to shoot me at point-blank range, luckily Daryl was able to deflect the shot and it didn't hit me.” in the heart as was his plan.”

“...Why didn't you ever show me all this?”

“Because I'm horrible... How could I expect you to love someone who carried only scars and horrible memories?” Carl looked at me bewildered and looked away.

“It’s not the same Y/n.”

“Of course... we are both full of scars and these remind us that we were stronger than what tried to kill us, we are survivors and this is our life... and I want to share my scars and my bad memories with you and I want you to you do the same. Carl, I love you and I want to experience all the good that is left in the world with you.” Without realizing it, I had walked until I was in front of Carl and I knelt down so I could look him in the face, my eyes were full of tears and my voice was shaking, “and don't think that you can decide for me, I want to be by your side... “Just… Unless you don’t love me anymore…”

He didn't let me finish and silenced my crying with a kiss. He knelt down next to me and kissed me passionately. His arms wrapped around me with strength and desperation. My cheeks were wet, but he didn't care. With his fingers he delicately caressed each one of my scars and I did the same.

“Of course I love you, forgive me for acting like an idiot, I…”

This time it was my turn to silence his lips, my entire body vibrated as the temperature rose, in desperation I lightly pulled his hair, wishing he would never leave me. When our lungs were begging for air we did not separate slightly, his lips were red and swollen from what had happened before, we both gasped to catch our breath.

“You know, it's very unfair that even with a scar like that you still manage to look so perfect.” Carl laughed lightly and leaned down to kiss my shoulder.

“Says the girl who, even with all her scars, looks like an angel.”

I blushed at his comment, it was always the same, he managed to take my breath away just with a phrase like that.

“Shut up and kiss me sheriff.”

“With pleasure, hunter. ”

The kisses continued just like the memories and the scars.

Even though we had both lost a part of ourselves and even though destiny had marked us, it no longer mattered to us, because being together we were finally complete.

[atamascolily]

Given how tightly plotted previously installments have been, I have to admit I was caught off guard by the seeming introduction of new characters in the Walpurgis no Kaiten trailer. However, on reflection (heh), it makes sense if one of the themes of the movie is indeed opposites/doubling/mirroring. After all, if Homura has a double for a narrative foil, why shouldn't the rest of the main cast have one, too? Prior to the second trailer, I had assumed this role would be filled by the "new girl" in the first trailer, who appears to be a Homura/Mami/Madoka hybrid, but it seems that's just the tip of the iceberg.

That said, it's also clear to me from the second trailer that this mirroring, if that's what's really going on here, isn't going to always literal as it is with Homura. The girl paired with Nagisa in the ball pit in the second trailer doesn't look exactly the same as Nagisa, but it's clear from the framing that the two of them are being deliberately juxtaposed, and will likely serve as narrative foils to each other. My guess is that this girl is the humanized form of Nagisa's witch Charlotte, just like I think that the most likely candidate for Homura's double is her witch Homulilly, (because the metaphorical almost always becomes literal in this series, even though the movie may or may not name them directly as such), but my point stands regardless of their exact relationship to each other.

If that's the case, then who in the Holy Quintet is the counterpart for the other new character--the green-haired girl in the trailer?

The obvious answer is "Mami"--partly because of the tea party and general vibes, and partly because of the color scheme (green and yellow go well together and the girl has golden eyes like Mami's). This is especially true if fan theories are right and this girl is the humanized form of Gertrud the Rose Witch, whom Mami faces off against in episode 1-2 of the original series, and who serves as a deliberate counterpoint to Mami there.

Having a more human Gertrud as foil to Mami would make sense because unlike Homura and Nagisa, Mami never becomes a witch in the original series; while she does have a witch form in the PSP game and other spinoff media, I think we are unlikely to see it in this installment and thus her most likely counterpoint would then be Gertrud. Gertrud's familiars are also visible in Homura's new world at the end of Rebellion, suggesting she might turn up in some fashion in Walpurgis no Kaiten.

(This also raises the interesting question of whether Mami's VA would voice this character or not. Considering that Kaori Mizuhashi also voiced Walpurgisnacht and Tatsuya in the original series, it's not impossible than she and/or other voice actors might play one or more roles in this new installment. As a bonus, this would also mean that SHAFT could get away with not announcing the minor roles before the release, as they would probably have to if they were adding completely new voice actors to the cast. Until we get more news, I'm assuming that Chiwa Saito is voicing both Homuras, though everything else is more speculative.)

However, it occurred to me that based on her ponytail and her position in this shot, she could also be Kyouko's foil (red and green being opposing colors); this is less likely, but I figured I'd mention it as a possibility anyway, since the second trailer appears to be leaning heavily into Rebellion parallels. TBD. Like Mami, Kyouko doesn't have a witch form in the original series, so her most likely parallel is another established witch character, although nobody from the original series immediately leaps to mind.

(By the way, this would mean there are more new characters--or new versions of established characters--we haven't seen yet, so, uh, hold that thought.)

After that, it gets a little more complex and murky. Sayaka's most likely foil should be her witch Oktavia, but it's unclear to me from what we've seen so far how much that particular conflict manifests internally or externally. I think Sayaka is going to be extremely conflicted in Walpurgis no Kaiten, and it will be interesting to see how her arc develops. Based on the original series, however, I would say that the other logical witch counterpart for her is Elsa Maria the Shadow Witch, whose labyrinth mirrors Sayaka's black and white thinking during a particularly dark period for her, though I suppose H.N. Elly the Box Witch who attacks Madoka in Episode 4 is also a possibility.

Madoka also has a witch form, Kriemhild Gretchen, who is absorbed into the Law of Cycles, though I think her foil is most likely the Law of Cycles itself. We'll have to see.

You may have noticed that I am limiting myself solely to witches from the original series rather than spinoff media. The first reason is that I'm skeptical that SHAFT would bring in a witch that general audiences who have only followed the main series have never seen before (except for maybe a brief cameo). The second reason is that the Law of Cycles' motif in Rebellion explicitly shows only those witches from the original series, and we see only a select group of these witches and/or their familiars during the battle against Homulilly's familiars.

All these witches are potentially fair game to appear in WnK, making nine in all, though I doubt more than a handful would have more than a few lines, let alone a major role. Also this diagram does not appear to incorporate Walpurgisnacht unless she turns out to be the Law of Cycles after all.

Somehow, I can't imagine SHAFT pivoting in mid-stream to bring up something completely new or even a more obscure witch from another spinoff, especially when so much of the main series focused on reliving and re-experiencing the same events over and over again. Sorry, fans of the Madoka PSP and slot machine games, I think you're destined to be disappointed in your wish to see any of those game-only witches on the big screen, but I suppose we'll see.

This is all just speculation for now, but I'm excited and intrigued to see where this goes!

[gingiesworld]

Let's Talk

Scarlett Johansson x GN! Reader

Warning: Angst. Fluff. Smut. Reader has a penis. P in V. Unprotected sex.

18+ Minors DNI

Well guys, this One Shot won the poll. So please enjoy

Everyone thought that both Y/N and Scarlett had the perfect relationship, well it used to be before they both started to drift apart. Neither felt the spark between them that they did once.

Y/N had spent as much time as they could doing work either in the home office or at work, while Scarlett tried to stay on set as much as she could. Whenever her co-stars would ask her about them, she would lie and say they were doing good. Although truthfully, she had no idea how they were. Neither of them spoke to each other.

One night as she left set, she got asked once again and shr relayed the same lie as usual. Something that had become a routine, but as she was on the drive home, she had tried to think of when everything had changed between the two, why it changed and she kept coming up blank.

So once she returned home, she decided that they needed a talk. She was tired of the silence and loneliness even though Y/N was in the house. What she never really realised was that Y/N had been given a huge project to overlook and a deadline which was impossibly close.

"We need to talk." She told them as she walked inside of their office.

"Can't it wait. I have to get this finished." They told her tiredly as their eyes remained on the screen.

"No, it can't!" She told them as she closed their laptop. "We need to talk now Y/N!"

"Ok." They turned to face her with a stoic expression. That was the moment she noticed how tired they looked. "Let's talk."

"I uh." She stuttered as Y/N chuckled as they stood up.

"You wanted this talk Scarlett so talk." They told her. "Because if you aren't going to say anything, I will just go back to my project."

"Of course, work always comes first." She scoffed as Y/N shook their head no.

"It doesn't!" They yelled. "I have a project with a deadline that is closing faster than the Flash himself and I don't think I can do it! If I don't do it I could get fired Scar. I could lose my job!"

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked them.

"Because you were never here and you never asked." They sighed as they rubbed their brow. "So I just got stuck in. I have barely slept because I need to finish it." They sat down on their chair with a defeated look on their face.

"Baby." Scarlett stepped before them. "You should have told me." Her hands on either side of their neck, going down to their shoulders. Massaging them softly. "Maybe you need some loosening up and a good nights sleep." She then took their hand and led them to their shared bedroom. She started to strip as they watched her. In her lingerie set, she soon pushed them on the bed. Straddling their lap and brushing their noses together. "I missed you." She whispered as Y/N closed their eyes. Relishing in the closeness between the two of them.

"I missed you doll." They told her, licking her lips before she pressed her lips on theirs in a bruising kiss. Y/N's hands gripped her hips, helping her grind on their hardening member. Their hands roaming her back as Scarlett moaned into the kiss. Y/N's tongue roaming the depths of her mouth, moaning when Scarlett sucked on their tongue.

The animal within them coming alive as they removed her bra before standing up, turning her to face the full body mirror they have. Scarlett moaned as she watched Y/N's hand smoothly make it's way up to her breast. Massaging it roughly before she pushed her ass into their hardened cock.

Y/N growled as they bit into her neck, sucking on her skin as Scarlett held their neck, keeping their lips on her skin. Y/N's free hand made it's way inside of her panties and through her folds. She moaned as their finger applied pressure to her clit. Scarlett's moans echoed in the room as she closed her eyes as Y/N pinched her nipple roughly.

"Open your eyes." Y/N growled as they bit her ear. "I want you to watch yourself as you cum. Watch as I fuck you raw." She moaned when Y/N's hardened member brushed up against her ass. She listened as Y/N used their hand that was on her breast unbuckle their belt and push down their jeans and underwear. Allowing their hardened member to spring free. They opened Scarletts legs more and moved their hardened member through her soaked folds.

"Fuck." She moaned as Y/N bottomed out in one swift movement. Gripping her hips hard as the two faltered forward, Scarlett's hands resting either side of the mirror as Y/N's grip tightened.

"You're taking me so well." They husked out as they hammered into her. Her legs shaking and her hands slipping due to the force. Y/N then pushed her up against the mirror, earning a loud gasp as her hard nipples came into contact with the cold mirror. "Fuck Scar, I don't wanna pull out."

"Don't." She said as she rested her cheek against the cold glass. "Cum in me. Fill me up."

"You need my cum huh?" They asked as they grunted as they went harder.

"Please. Make me yours." She told them. She heard them growl at her words. "Ruin me."

With that, Y/N's hand made it's way to her front, applying pressure to her sensitive clit. Making her squeal in pleasure as the knot in her stomach tightened.

"You want to carry my babies?" They asked her as she nodded. "Answer me!" They growled as they thrust harder than before.

"Yes. Please." She begged them as they continued to pound into her harder. The two of them were getting closer to their climax. With one swift thrust, Y/N coated her walls with their seed, slowing their movements as Scarlett came.

When Y/N pulled out, they got on their knees and spread her folds, smirking as both of their juices leaked out of her.

"We are nowhere near done here." They told her when they started to thrust three fingers inside. Relishing in the sounds of her moans and their cum mixing together, just starting the long night they are going to spend together.

[dyns33]

Without warning part 1

I wanted to make a soulmate Frank Castle with some angst

Frank Castle didn't believe in soulmates.

Or rather, he did, he had seen his parents happy, at first, and many other people who had said their sentences to each other, but he considered that the universe had been wrong.

He had almost immediately fallen in love with Maria, before she had even spoken to him, and it had been a shock that she was not meant for him.

But it didn't matter, because he only wanted her, and she didn't seem to care that he wasn't her soulmate either. They had been very happy together, for years, with their children.

He wished it would last forever, and that he would never hear the phrase "Well buddy, shooting people without warning ?"

His decision to join the army had already been made before the phrase appeared, but it had scared him. Frank didn't want to be the kind of man who would shoot someone without warning. He was neither a coward nor a monster.

He didn't understand in what context someone would say such a thing to him.

Then Maria and the children had been killed. He had thought he was going crazy, and it was no longer so impossible for him to put a bullet in a man's head without being polite.

Red could have said his sentence to him, and Frank thanked his God for not having stuck such a boring blessed ass with him.

Some thought he could have resumed a normal life with Karen.

Sweet Karen. He loved her very much, he cared for her, she was family, but Frank didn't see her like that. Both more romantic than they probably wanted to admit, he knew she wanted to find her soulmate, and he didn't want to put her in danger, as strong as she was.

He couldn't relive the same thing as with Maria. Neither the same love, nor the pain of losing her.

After avenging his family, killing several bastards, dying in the eyes of the world, Frank had understood that he would never have a normal life again. So he remained hidden, sometimes helping Red stop bad guys, even if they continued to disagree on the method.

The last one had disturbed them a little. First, because the Devil couldn't determine if he was really a criminal.

"I've already crossed paths with him… He smells of blood, I know he kills people, often for money. But he seems like you, only targets criminals. And he sometimes works with Spiderman."

"The kid ?"

"Yeah. The kid seems to trust him. He told me he was a fan of my work, before he cut a guy in half, so I don't know, Frank. I don't know at all."

"I know. I'll take care of him."

"Wait, there's something else…"

As was often the case with Red, Frank hadn't taken the time to listen to the rest, certain he knew what he had to do. It had been a surprise when Murdock hadn't screamed because he had shot the guy.

It had been a surprise when the guy had gotten up, whining because a bullet in the heart was really painful, even if it was an honor to be shot by the Punisher.

"Deadpool, big fan, nice to meet you !" he had hummed as he hopped towards him, one hand outstretched for Frank to shake. He had shot him again.

They had then often crossed paths with Wilson, who continued to stick to Frank by acting like a madman, and each time he ended up killing him, because he was really too unbearable.

This seemed to make the mercenary laugh, who considered it a mark of friendship. Even if he was immortal, Red and the young spider reprimanded him, first violently, then out of habit after a while.

It was a surprise to hear a new female voice rise against the bullet he had just fired into Wilson's leg in the hope of silencing him.

"Well buddy, shooting people without warning ?"

Frank froze at first. Since the others snickered, he knew that it was not an enemy who had just appeared behind him. He vaguely heard them call her 'Ghost'. Obviously they had known each other for a long time, they trusted her.

So they didn't understand when the Punisher pointed his gun at her, as she approached to help Wade get up.

Still as naive, Daredevil thought it was because Frank had never met her before. A simple reflex. It had to be said that Ghost was strange, surprising. Her costume was entirely black, and her helmet of the same color completely hid her face.

Her voice was strange too. A distant sound, as if muffled by the wind. Later, much later, Red would explain the powers of Ghost, who had given her her name.

Not only could she completely disappear, either only for the eyes, or by becoming gone, passing through matter, but on top of that, she became undetectable. No smell, no heartbeat, no breathing, no footsteps. Nothing.

The first time, it had been complicated for poor Red. She had wanted to help him against a gang, and even if he refused to admit it, she had scared him. He had thought he was losing his mind when enemies were beaten by nothing, then a voice had spoken to him.

Without him saying anything, Ghost had finally understood. And then, suddenly, he had heard her heart, as she asked him with an amused voice if that was better.

Able to go anywhere, she could have known who he was, who Spiderman was, everyone, and no doubt she knew, but she had never said anything, not even to Wilson. In any case, he didn't want to know, because of his vigilante bro code of honor.

That wasn't the problem. He didn't have a secret identity, and even if people learned he was alive, he knew how to defend himself. But this Ghost had said his sentence, which echoed in his head, and he couldn't accept it.

"Calm down, Frank. This isn't…"

"Fuck no." he said simply.

If the others noticed that she froze, they didn't say anything. She hadn't seemed afraid when she saw the gun, but that simple word had paralyzed her, which didn't help the situation at all, because Frank was then completely certain of who she was.

And then, without thinking, he fired.

Frank could have meant that he knew what would happen. But it was a real shock to see the pierced helmet fall to the ground, while the rest of the woman had vanished into thin air. He didn't know yet that she could do that. He would have killed her instantly.

The others were very angry with him. Much more than with Deadpool. And besides, Wilson got mad for the first time with him, threatening to cut off his head. Ghost was a friend, a sister.

They didn't understand why he did that. To be completely honest, Frank wasn't sure he knew either.

It wasn't that girl's fault if fate had decided they had to be connected. If to meet her, he had to lose Maria, the children, become a murderer. He didn't want that, it was out of the question, and she had to know it.

It seemed like Ghost was smart. Frank didn't see her again after that. After that exchange, he also saw Wilson a little less often, and the mercenary ignored him most of the time, when he wasn't insulting him.

His behavior had disappointed the Spider kid and Red, but it was nothing new, and their opinions didn't matter to him.

Life went on, as if he had never met his soulmate.

Then he crossed paths with Y/N.

As if his life wasn't complicated enough already.

[bumblesimagines]

Jocelyn (the idol)

there is no "us." we were never anything.

it was just for fun.

i haven't been with anyone since.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Possible ooc behavior I did not finish the show Sam Levinson stop ruining female characters challenge (impossible), soft angst?, drug mention, mentions of Jocelyn's mental breakdown

Show was ass but Lily-Rose did really well with what she was given

(Y/N) stared up into the twinkling night sky, the sound of distant city traffic mixing in with the music still playing throughout the house despite the party slowly coming to an end with more and more people returning home or passing out somewhere in the house. He wondered if the paparazzi outside the security gates had already slunk back to their miserable lives or if they continued lingering about to snap photos of those who came and went. They'd always been a pain in the ass to deal with like greedy vultures constantly flying about in hopes of getting a shot of something juicy. He was sure there'd be articles written and posted with photos of his car entering the premises with clickbait titles and headlines. 

"There's a party going on... and you're out here looking like you're at a funeral." Jocelyn's familiar voice filled his ears, the clicking of her heels growing near until she stood beside him and plucked the cigarette from his fingers. She brought it to her tinted lips and inhaled, smoke soon slipping from her mouth. "Come inside and have a drink with me. It's been a while since we last spoke." 

"There's not much to talk about, Joce." He told her, tilting his head to look at her. 

Jocelyn looked just about the same since the last time he saw her face to face, if not a bit healthier and happier. She'd been unpredictable then; the mixture of drugs and alcohol she used to cope with the neverending grief over her mother's death sent her down a dangerous spiral of constantly shifting moods and impulsive decisions. It'd been exhausting being around her, especially when one minute she despised him and the next nobody would be able to pry her off him. In the end, Chaim and Destiny were forced to admit she was truly unwell and had her admitted to a hospital. 

"Well, there's your new album, the new movie you were in, and my upcoming single." Jocelyn pointed out with a soft chuckle, her head cocking to the side. Her eyes softened. "There's also.. us and what happened." 

"There is no "us." We were never anything, Joce. We were barely even friends. All we ever did was have sex and argue every time we recorded." (Y/N) took the cigarette back, taking a deep breath before he butted it out and flicked it out toward the cliff. Flirting, drinking, taking pills and powders they should've ignored, hooking up, recording a song or two, arguing over random things; it was an irritating cycle that pushed his limits and patience. "It was just for fun."

"We went out together to clubs and events or did you forget that? We were something. Maybe not a couple but we were more than 'barely friends.'" Jocelyn scoffed softly, her eyebrows furrowing and jaw visibly clenching. "No matter how much you say that it was all for the fans and to get them hyped for the songs, you can't deny we had something." 

"We were fuckbuddies at most, Joce. I don't get why you're still hung up on that."

"Because I haven't been with anyone since! I thought about you while I was recovering, while I was in that hospital trying to get better. I... I thought maybe we'd be serious when I was discharged . I.. I thought you would at least be kind enough to visit after but you went full fucking ghost on me. And maybe the worst part is that I still want you."

[cha-melodius]

2024 Fic Year in Review

My fifth fic year in review! It's always wild to go back and look at how far I've come. As always, feel free to grab this if you want to do your own; I've stitched it together over the years. And thank you to everyone who read my fics this year, whether it was one or all of them.

2020 | 2021 | 2022 | 2023

AO3 Username: chamel My Page: Link Active Fandoms: Red, White & Royal Blue: 14 works Loki: 3 works The Man from UNCLE (2015): 1 work New Fandoms: The Pairing (CMQ novel; 1 work) Total Number Of Completed Works/Word Count This Year: 23 works, 303k words All Time: 135 works, 1.57 million words

Most Popular One Shot (by kudos): This Year: Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) (RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 9.4k) All Time: Class(room) Warfare (RWRB, Alex/Henry, T, 7.8k words)

Most Popular Completed Multi-Chapter (by kudos):  This Year: False Dichotomy (RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 62k) All Time: Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood  (RWRB, Alex/Henry, E, 20k words)

Events/Challenges: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Gift Exchange 2024, A Royally Big Bang, Lokius Reverse Bang, idk do what you want exchange

More reflections, stats, and planned fics below the cut!

Additional Random AO3 Stats

By number of fics: 79% one shots, 21% multi-chaps

By word count: 69% multi-chaps (nice), 31% one shots

Ratings by number of fics: 48% E-rated, 26% M-rated, 26% T-rated

Musical artists contributing highest number of titles: spread out this year, but Wilco, Metric & Sufjan Stevens came in with 2 each

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?  I was wrong in my 2024 roundup post—I wrote 25k more words this year despite having 10 fewer fics. Which I did NOT expect. I figured I was trucking along to make my usual ~270k, but I forgot about The Secret Fics lol.

What’s your own favorite story of the year?  I think I have to go with Body and Soul(mate), which I'm just so so proud of. I love how it came out and I think it's really original.

Did you complete your writing goals from last year?  The Goal: My goal is to have a similar mix of fics as least year, and also to write my first collaboration with @cricketnationrise, which will be a long multichap. First part, pretty close. I wrote more multichaps (21% vs 15%) this year, which meant fewer fics in total. Second part, oops. Cricket and I have both been busy, but the hockey fic lives!! We'll get to it eventually!

Do you have any writing goals for the New Year? I can't believe I'm gonna say this but... write more original fiction. See below for more on that. Fanfic wise... finally finish some of the planned stories I've had kicking around for a while.

Did you take any writing risks this year? I submitted a pitch for an anthology, was accepted, and wrote my first original story! I had a lot of fun with it and I think I'll purse more next year. Idk if I'm ready for a whole novel and trying to get (more) published, but we'll see.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Even though it's numbers have come up since publishing, I'm still gonna go with The Impossible Soul, aka my Westworld-esque android/human AU.

Most fun story to write: Probably Body and Soul(mate). Figuring out all the body swaps and soulmate lore was a lot of fun and the whole thing just flowed so well.

Biggest disappointment: Why do I keep this question? I hate complaining publicly. 😂 My biggest disappointment is that I sometimes let fandom drama/trends/popularity make me feel bad. Being mad because a fandom loves X type of fic doesn't help anyone.

Biggest surprise: I'm not sure I really had any big surprises this year. Biggest surprise in my stats was that my percent of explicit works is way up—T used to be my most-used rating. Part of that is publishing fewer one-shots, since those tend to be T for me, whereas a long fic is more likely to be E.

Coming soon/planned for 2024: It's a little depressing how so many of these are the same as last year. Hence the resolution above, I guess.

Kissed Out (RWRB pro-pool players AU)

RWRB 1940s noir AU

RWRB conductor/piano soloist AU

RWRB Jurassic Park AU

RWRB rodeo rider/polo player AU

RWRB hockey AU (with cricket)

A shitload of prompts from my fandom fest

Extremely delinquent MTH fics

TMFU art thief/gallery owner AU

Thanks to folks who tagged me in their year in review posts, including @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @kiwiana-writes, and @porcelainmortal

[tmntartblock]

TMNT LEOSAGI AU

FIND ME IN THE FUTURE

Chapter 4: Failed experiment

previous chapter |

There it was, one possibility. Leo tried to fight against the idea, as it was a long shot but it was the last glimpse of hope. He swept aggressively the tears that had formed up after thinking about Usagi and their last some-what happy conversation. Usagi had gave the crystals for a reason. It had to be. He knew something was gonna happen.

We are here for you.

Leo decided it was time to face Donnie.

Of course Donnie was still awake at 3 am. Leo had always nagged him about it even though he did exactly the same thing. 

“Leo! What are you doing up?” Donnie said, not even pretending to hide his half-done gadget. 

Leo was hesitant for a second. What if Donnie couldn’t help him? The hope was holding him together and he was afraid what would happen if he had to let go.

“Donnie. I need a dimension portal.”

“What now?”

“I need it as fast as possible.”

“Do you think they grow on trees?”

“Well, probably they grow in crops if I’ve understood Usagi correctly but that’s not important right now. I need a dimension portal.”

So this was the moment his brother had completely lost himself, Donnie thought. But he couldn’t lie to himself – a dimension portal sounded so freaking cool.

“It would take a long time, Leo. I need to find… well, first of all, some scientific proof that multiverse exists and then a to find a fuel source-”

Leo opened a little bag with turquoise stones and threw them on the table.

“These are how Usagi travelled to here. At least I think so. You can start from this.”

“Where did you-”

Leo looked at the floor, fists clenching the bag.

“I got them from Usagi.”

Donnie took one of them carefully in his hands. 

“They look like the material from his necklace.”

Leo’s heart was pounding in his chest.

“He… He said that they are what the Realm is protecting. He said they cultivated blue crystals when he was a kid. Could it… could they be to used for teleportation?” Leo asked, full of hope and fear. Please. Please, please, please.

Donnie put the crystal back on the table and gave Leo a pitiful look. He sighed.

“I… It could. It might. He never told you?”

“I guess I never asked.”

“You never asked how he got here?” Donnie couldn’t believe his brother. How he could not ask about it? Donnie had to always come up with an impossible project to keep his mind occupied every time Usagi came to visit just not to ask him about his realm.

“It was irrelevant to me.” Leo felt like an idiot. But back then it didn’t matter. Usagi came from a blue portal and that’s it. “Why didn’t you ask? You are the geek.”

“You specifically asked me not to ask invasive questions about his home planet or himself because you thought he would feel uncomfortable.”

“And you actually never did? Even when I wasn’t around?”

“Of course not. I promised.”

“Thanks”, Leo said, feeling gratitude to his brother. Even though this one time it would have helped not to listen to him.

Donnie stared at the crystals intensely.

“I will look into them but I won’t promise anything. These crystals could be just for decoration.”

“I know you can figure it out.”

“Thanks for the pressure.”

When Donnie got the portal machine running after a couple of months, Leo could not think straight. It had been so long that who knew what had happened to Usagi. He could’ve been killed for all he knew.

“We should do couple of test runs”, Donnie said when they all stood next to the brand new machine.

“Test runs? You said it’s working, right?” Leo said.

“Yeah, it works but-”

“We can test it to go to Usagi’s realm”, Leo said. “We have wasted enough time.”

Donnie didn’t want to argue longer. Leo had been a pain in everyone’s butt for months and Donnie was getting tired of it. Leo didn’t listen to anyone when he had the attitude.

Donnie gave everyone a little square machine with the little turquoise stone.

“These are portal devices to create portals”, Donnie said and gave everyone one. “They each have a portal stone that is charged by the big machine over here. You can do few jumps from one place to another with these without them needing to be charged but I still haven’t tested how many exacted.”

“I have the one that’s connected to the rest of them so we can do simultaneous teleportation together. One crystal is meant for one person to use and it does not hold the portal for that long so that’s why everyone has their own. So don’t test them. I don’t want any of us to end up in any random realm.”

Donnie gave Leo a long look.

“I can do this by myself”, Leo said and crossed his arms. He was going to do this now, no matter Donnie said.

“We promised to help”, Mikey said. “So that’s what we’re doing.”

Donnie set the coordinates and the portal machine started to glow. They stepped on the machine and the glittering light covered them. When it disappeared, they had appeared in the middle of a blood covered battlefield.

They had ended up somewhere dark, where the only source of light came from the bright blue nebula above. The ground was covered in gray dust that made the lungs hurt. 

They were surrounded by different kind of mammals standing on two feet, fighting with katanas, knives and bos against what Leo could only describe as straight from a horror film. The shadowy creatures did not have a clear shape, they moved through the air, slashing their opponents, leaving them screaming on the ground. Leo felt uneasy looking at them. 

Fuck.

“What happened?” Leo yelled and drew his katanas.

“I- I don’t know”, Donnie yelled and dodged an arrow. “I- I need to recalibrate. Shield me.”

Neither side cared if they were a foe or a friend. The turtles were attacked immediately. Leo kept his stand to protect Donnie but Mikey and Raph were getting pulled further away to fight.

“We are on some kind of crossroad section”, Donnie yelled, trying to make the numbers on his little carry-on machine to make sense. “There’s a lot of the same energy in here as these crystals so maybe that’s what confused the machine. We are not that far off tho. I think some of these people here might be from Usagi’s realm…”

“For fucks sake Donnie”, Leo couldn’t hold his frustration in as he kicked a leopard to the ground. The leopard in blue-red costume got back up and attacked again, forcing Leo further away from Donnie who looked at him, very much insulted. 

“You blaming me?” Donnie’s cheeks started to burn red. “What the fuck. I said we needed to calibrate.”

“Well I thought you meant that we would end up few miles off but not in an entirely wrong fuckin planet!” Leo yelled as he dodged the leopard’s attack and hit them on the head, so it passed out on the ground.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were so stupid to not understand that”, Donnie spitted. “I’m sick of your nonsense, Leo. Get a hold of yourself.”

Leo was ready strike back but he felt a push and something cold touched his shoulder. He turned around and faced the shadowy creature, standing in front of him, staring with its white bottomless eyes. Leo couldn’t breath.

The heavy feeling from his heart poured to every inch of his body. The failure, the fear that had kept piling on for months. He would lose. Everything. He would never find Usagi. He had brought his brothers to their grave. They couldn’t get out of there alive and it was all because of him. 

He would never find peace.

Lightning struck the air, covering everything in blue light. The force of the strike made Leo fall to the ground and he couldn’t believe what he saw. It had struck Donatello. Leo felt weak, powerless, he almost couldn’t get back up.

“Don!” Leo cried. He heard his brothers yelling from the distance. Donatello’s body was laying on the ground, smoke lingering from his body. No, no, no, no. Leo ran as fast as he could, using his sword on everything that was in his way. 

“Don, Don, please be alive, please”, Leo was afraid to touch his brother, who was covered in wounds. But he was breathing. For now.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t worry”, Leo said, trying to calm his racing head. “We will get you home.”

Blood, so much blood. Leo could smell the burn.

“Raph! Mikey!” Leo yelled. “We have to go!” He couldn’t see them, but he heard them agreeing. “O-okay Donnie, what do we do? How- how we get home?”

Leo felt the tears forming. Fuck. How could he let this happen? Donnie had not explained how to get back home. 

Mikey and Raph had reached them finally, covered in blood and bruises. They couldn’t do anything but try to fight off the people attacking them.

Leo took the portal device from Donnie and looked at it. There was an extra button with a home symbol on it. Leo felt a sense of relief.

Thank god Donnie knew they were a bunch of idiots.

They got home, everything was loud, rushed. Master Splinter took care of Donnie with Mikey and April. Leo wanted to go inside but Raph stopped him.

“I don’t think it’s good for you to be there right now.”

Leo wanted to argue with him but there was no point. It was still hard to think straight. His mind was on the battlefield. 

Leo sat down on the ground, his heart pounding heavy like he was still running. Raph stood next to him. The tension was insufferable.

Raph opened his mouth.

“You know master Splinter has always been worried about Usagi.”

“What?”

“Is that big of a surprise for you? Well, I guess he hid it pretty well from you since you would have not listened in the first place.”

“Why are you telling this now?”

“Because I want you to stop this shit. Master Splinter is right. Usagi comes from a world we don’t know. He is a trained soldier. You have to stop this nonsense before one of us dies. We don’t know him.”

“I know him.”

“Do you? Do you really or are you just that delusional?”

“Shut up already.”

“No I fuckin’ won’t before you get it in your thick head. If you really knew him and he could be trusted, he would’ve told about that betrayal plan. He knew you would’ve helped him but he did what he fuckin’ did. ”

The anger was burning through Leo but he couldn’t get up. It hurt to hear what everybody really thought about Usagi.

“You have nothin’ to say?” Raph spitted.

“Not to you.”

After so many painful hours waiting, April finally came to announce that Donnie was going to live. 

“He’s just now unconscious and highly medicated. He’s gonna be in pain for a long time. And who knows what that amount of electricity did to his nervous system.”

Leo went inside the room and took a look at Donatello, covered in bandages and all kind of tubes. The worst had not happened. Not yet. 

Master Splinter was sitting next to him, looking at Don with a concern. He turned his head only when Leo started to talk.

“I need to talk to you, master Splinter”, Leo said. The initial anger had already faded and he started to feel numb from all the emotions. Master Splinter got up to his shaky legs.

“You are right, my son. But not here, we need to let Donatello rest. Let’s go to my meditation room.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” master Splinter said calmly as they sat down. 

“Is it true that you hate Usagi?”

Master Splinter was not shaken by the question. It was like he knew it was coming.

“Hate is a strong word, my son and I would use it more carefully. I never hated him but also, I never truly trusted him. First, not because of his character: he was as innocent boy as you were. But the environment he was raised in shaped what kind of man he grew up to be. The realm is not something to take slightly. It is a strict military society and the citizens are known to be loyal to their realm.”

“Usagi is different. He always said he hated being there.”

“People there are told from a very young age that they need to protect their realm and die for it. Even the most determined mind can fold under enough pressure, my son. He may have realized how strong and dangerous you had become and that the best for his realm was to eliminate you and the rest of us. He may have not be able to kill you yourself but he put his feelings aside to make somebody else kill you. Only a person with a heart of ice could do that.”

“You don’t know that. I have to save him.”

“I order you to stay.”

Leo looked at him, shocked.

“I know what you want to do. But you’re going down your old path, my son”, Master Splinter’s words cut like the blade. Leo could barely look at his father’s disappointed face.

“You are not to order me anymore. You’ve made it clear enough for years now that I’m the one taking the responsibility of everyone. I am the head of this house. I make the calls.”

“I may have miscalculated the level of responsibility you were ready to take on, my son. I thought encounters with Shredder had thought you enough. You are doing horrible decisions and not thinking about the consequences for your family.”

Leo stared at his father. It was like every word coming from his mouth was meant to break the last pieces of his soul. But he did not feel anger. He did not feel sadness. There was just the unpleasant truth in front of him.  

“Usagi is my family”, Leo said as he stood up, looking down on his father. He walked away, went to his room and packed rushly the few items he thought he might need. He needed nothing. He deserved nothing.

He went to the portal machine and avoided Raph and Mikey. They would try to stop him. No matter how much they hated him, they wouldn’t let him leave to a whole other realm alone. He could not stand to see Mikey even though he would’ve needed that one last hug from him. But he couldn’t bare anything else happen to them, not because of him.

The machine wasn’t hard to set up. Donnie had left some manuals laying around. Leo tried to find the other crystals to take them with him but couldn’t find them. Others probably still had them on. Leo packed the manuals in his backpack so at least Raph and Mikey couldn’t immediately follow him.

He took a last look on the door and imagined his brothers in the living room. They would manage.

He had to keep everyone he loved safe. That’s what he had to do. That was his purpose. To save everyone. Alone.

Goodbye, Earth. 

THE END OF ISSUE 1

I hope you enjoyed the first 4 chapters :) Let's see how Leo will manage to survive in the realm in the next issue!