#like she is so fucking kind and forgiving and patient

[zellk]

I'm in love with Aamira ❤️❤️🙏 can you give us more info about her? Some fun and maybe not so fun facts about her?

Hi Anon ! Thank you for your kind words and for your interest \o/ Aamira's side of the family is the one that Qalaa got her "Beast Curse" from. It's a bloodline hereditary curse that boosts the strength of those in good health (like Qalaari) and eats away at those that have a weak constitution... like Aamira. "Weak" members of the family are usually cast aside or cast out. Aamira ; while still quite young, 16 or so ; ran away from all of this to try to live her life following only her will and enjoy as much of it as possible. Even without the curse Aamira would have had a weak health, but think of it as her Beast basically making her immunodeficient and weaker and weaker as the years go by.

She managed to make a little life for herself in a small unremarkable place close to one of the older forest of the region. There she developed close ties with two siblings, Temhos & Olgha. Both of them members of a tribe that lives deep deep withing the old woods who come to visit the village semi frequently to trade goods and buy things to carry back where they live. Both siblings tried to court Aamira (after months of good relationship), and, eventually, Aamira chose Temhos. For two or three years things were pretty idyllic fro all of them. But then Aamira started talking about wanting a child... Temhos tried to reason with her that with her health it was really fucking dangerous for her to try and that her chances of not making it through were too high for his tastes... Aamira pretended to listen but actually didn't and things got really bad when Temhos found out she was pregnant. They argued, Aamira's health took a downside, Temhos took care of her until she got better again (and Aamira, with her rose-tinted delusional glasses, thought it meant he'd stay). When Aamira was around 7 month pregnant Temhos ran away (very very far away). It broke her heart but not her (by now frantic) determination to see her pregnancy though. She (somehow) found her away again to Temhos' village where she was taken in by Olgha (who was very confused, then very angry (at both Aamira & Temhos), then very panicked). Qalaari was born in this village. Olgha became her surrogate parent to help Aamira raise her (she was still in love with Aamira, but knew that her heart, broken as it was, would still never be hers... I think Aamira knew Olgha's feelings too and could only just be very thankful she still helped her raise Qalaari, despite how painful it must have been for her.) Aamira was very loving with her daughter, but her (now very bad) health and broken heart left her with long dissociative episodes, on top of moments where she wouldn't even managed to get out of bed. That's when Olgha would take care of Qalaari most (frustrated and heartbroken as she was over the whole situation, Olgha genuinely loves Qalaari like her own daughter.) 12 years after, the Beast finally eroded all of what Aamira was (she was still young... probably around 32 or 34 years old ??) and she passed away. Also, how Aamira survived giving birth is nothing short of a miracle. Most likely due to her will of titanium to meet and raise her daughter... Eventually the Beast got the best of her, but she managed to hold on for 12 more years !!

[shotmrmiller]

soulmate au part 1

john price x f!reader

wc: 1.2k

unedited, forgive my mistakes.

since you were born, your world has been grey. you never thought anything of it, until at school, they started teaching you colours. the only ones in the room that could see more than just different shades of grey, apart from the teacher, were identical twins.

weird.

you went home and asked your parents.

"we are born missing half of ourselves. we have a fated one, and when you meet them, your world will look the way it was meant to."

oh. but... "in class, there were twins that could see colour. what about them?"

they look surprised for a second until your dad softly explains. "in rare instances, the soulmate bond will be platonic. which makes sense in this case, because twins grow up with a connection regular people like us will never understand."

you nod and lower your gaze to look at your shoes. you wonder if the person meant for you is interested in junie b. jones books like you are.

-

in high school, you crush on this pretty girl— a cheerleader. her hair is long and beautiful, her face is small and round, and she's so kind. just your type.

but no colour stains your vision, so you burrow your emotions deep and mourn the loss of what could've been.

-

in college, one of your friends ask you if you've met your soulmate yet.

"no, not yet," you lament. what she says after freezes the blood in your veins.

"my mom knew someone whose soulmate was already dead before they had even been born," she comments while stabbing a grape tomato with her fork. "it was really tragic, because she'll never know what it's like to know a love that has no equal."

your heart is in your throat, and you find it hard to swallow the food in your mouth.

what if your soulmate is already dead? oh, god. you might just throw up. your friend doesn't seem to notice the change in your demeanor and continues to babble carelessly about how she knew someone that knew someone who's soulmate had turned out to be a murderer.

oh my fucking god.

you quickly run to the bathroom and throw up your lunch.

how cruel is the universe? to have no control over who is meant to be for you.

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and lean against the stall of the bathroom. you should've known that this soulmate business was too good to be true.

cupping your hands, you rinse the taste of bile out of your mouth before walking back to your friend who stayed in her seat.

"jesus, you look terrible, you alright?" she asks.

running your fingers through your hair, you huff. "i've certainly been better. just got a bit nauseous, nothing serious. maybe it's a stomach bug."

"oooh, you better not be pregnant! what of your dreams of working in the medical field?"

you giggle at her response. "that'd be impossible unless i'm the virgin mary."

she gapes comically then leans in and whispers, "you're lying! don't tell me you haven't dated anyone just because they weren't your soulmate."

you shrug, and keep your eyes fixed on your half-eaten plate of food. "i don't really wanna talk about it, if that's alright with you. besides, you've got bigger things to worry about, like the upcoming exam for mr. richardson."

slapping a hand to her forehead, she exclaims, "oh, shit! i totally forgot! shit!"

you watch her inhale the rest of her salad and toss her trash before waving goodbye and sprinting toward the library.

with a sigh, you look down at your food. grey. lifeless. shaking your head, you pick up your plate and toss it in the bin.

you decide to focus solely on your studies. you have dreams of being a doctor and pining after someone you haven't even met yet would only serve as a distraction.

--

your white coat grazes your calves as you walk toward your new patient. standing outside the room, you pick up the clipboard.

Price, John. 34, Active Military.

he's the head of the task force! god, you've only heard stories of them from the other medics on base who have met them, so to finally come face to face with the man, the myth, the legend? you wipe your clammy hands on the fabric of your scrubs and clear your throat.

be professional, be professional. he's just another patient, it's no big deal.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait a second before twisting the knob with a shaky hand. you nervously keep your eyes on the clipboard as you walk in.

"good morning, captain price."

"mornin', doc," he rumbles.

oh, his deep voice just might be the end of you.

"you don't sound all that happy to be here, captain," you tease while flipping through his medical history papers.

he lets out a low chuckle, and you squeeze your thighs together at the sound. delicious.

"nothin' personal, doc. just don't like bein' here, you understand."

lightly laughing at his joke, you finally steel your nerves and look up at him.

only to have your vision bleed in something you don't understand. is that colour? is this what colour looks like?

the clipboard drops, clattering to the floor. john— being the courteous gentleman that he is— quickly kneels to grab it and lifts his head as he hands it to you.

he freezes in place, the clipboard slipping from his hands as he stares at you.

you thickly swallow, and dumbly question, "do you...has your....colour? can you see colour?"

unblinking, john's eyes are fixated on you as he remains silent.

your eyes dart around to take in his features. his brightly-coloured eyes are framed by lines that hint at his age, his strong jaw adorned by a mutton-chop beard. his nose is specked with a beauty mark.

"what colour are your eyes, captain?" you softly ask.

he closes his mouth and takes in a sharp breath. "i've been told they're blue."

"blue," you smile. the eyes of your soulmate are blue.

but then, your delighted smile melts off your face, in horror.

there's a shiny band on his finger. he's married.

john price, your soulmate, is fucking married.

your vision distorts with the tears that threaten to spill and bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. it feels like there are shards of glass in your lungs, cutting you open with each quivering breath you take. your pain is red-hot, searing under your skin, flowing through your veins like molten lead.

john knows exactly what you're looking at.

"love—" he starts but you cut him off swiftly.

"don't. you don't owe me anything, captain. uhm, but uh... maybe it's best that we switch your doctors, yeah? conflict of interest, and all that."

you all but run away, away from that room, from him.

how terribly unlucky.

you head towards your office, which is down the hall, and slam the door closed. only then, do you cry, and mourn what should've been.

[arahdow]

WHO?! pt. 1

Pairing. Sonic x reader. Shadow x reader.

Content. fem reader. they mention another girls name as a prank. insecurities, angst but most of all hurt to comfort bcs in this house we appreciate aftercare after a sad moment. mhm humor.

Word count. 1.7 k

A/N. this is a two part post!! the reason i divided it was bcs i’m having a lot of trouble writing for silver and knuckles (i’m thinking on adding scourge too) 😫 so i’m trying to give myself some more time BUT in the meantime please have this and forgive me for not posting something of mine in a while 🤧 i assure you i’m working on different requests and ideas, so pls be patient and wait for the best!!

+ no beta read anddd a lil too ooc maybe

Sonic was always a prankster, but his prank backfired? That’s new…

Another tiring day at work, helping her coworkers get their job done even when she had her own work, doing extra hours, even walking home felt like a burden. She only wanted to lie down for at least the whole weekend. 

Sighing, she opened the door of her shared home with the blue hero, Sonic the hedgehog. He called himself a hero, something along the lines of ‘blue justice’ and she always laughed at his antics. She wanted nothing more than to hug him and sleep in his embrace.

As she walked to the kitchen, she heard Sonic humming and washing the pots he used to make dinner. He wasn’t used to cooking, but he liked to treat his girlfriend, especially when she went overtime.

“Hello.” She greeted, her voice weak as she noticed the delicious smell of the food he made.

Wiping his hands, he turned to his girlfriend, kissing her on the forehead. “Go and change, I'll be waiting darling.” 

The girl nodded with a sleepy smile and went to their room, before she could enter, Sonic yelled: “Be sure not to get asleep, Amy!” 

And it’s like her whole world crashed. Feeling like a cold splash of water running down her body, she soon felt her stomach drop. Amy? Why Amy? Was Amy there before? Why was he mentioning her? What?

A whole world of ‘what’s’ and ‘why’s’ ran through her head. Still, it wasn’t enough for her to stop feeling hungry, so, even if she wanted to stay by herself now, she knew if she didn’t eat she'd probably pass out in their shared room. 

Feeling a sting on her chest and throat, the girl changed herself and walked to the kitchen again. Her appetite forced her to meet her lover, but was he really tough? Was he still… Hers?

In silence, she sat beside Sonic starting to eat. The man looked at her confused but followed her movements without a word. She always thanked him for the food and let him have the first bite. It was a cute tradition between them and now she just went straight to eat. He couldn’t blame her, so he accepted it and kept on eating.

Sonic almost forgot the prank. Honestly, he was expecting some kind of teasing back, as his lover always had a callback, but now? She seemed too tired to add something of her own so he left it at that. 

He was ready to talk about something else when he noticed tears staining her face. “Dear? Wha-” He hurriedly went for a napkin and gave it to her. “What is it?”

The girl refused the napkin and turned away from him, her tears running free. Then he stared at her barely touched food. “Lov-”

“Why Amy?”

Sonic bit his tongue, looking at her. Amy?

“What’s with-”

“Do you love her? Again?!”

The man flinched a bit at her broken voice. His chest constricted with pain. 

“Listen, I-”

“I don’t…” The girl scoffed and braced herself. “I don’t want to know the details, just, have you fallen in love with Amy again?”

He reeled back, inhaling with insight. Oh. He. Fucked. Up.

“No, love-”

“Then why mention her? Why is her name in your lips when I’m the one you swore to spend your life with?” Sonic was already panicking inside watching the meltdown his girl was having. 

“It’s not like that!” He managed to say, stumbling on his words to prevent her from cutting him off again. “Love, it was a prank.”

The girl looked at him, her tears suddenly stopping, it almost looked humoristic if it wasn’t for the whole reason she was crying.

“I’m sorry you’d thought I could do that to you,” he explained, standing up and wiping her tears by himself with the napkin she refused to grab. “I was trying to be funny like we always are but… I guess it wasn’t the right timing.”

“No shit.” She replied, a sarcastic tone in her voice as she sighed, the weight on her shoulders disappearing. “Ah, thank chaos.”

“I mean, how could I do that to you when I already have an engagement ring somewhere in my room?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. Wait. “Wait what?”

“What?” He echoed, the atmosphere in the room changing completely as he winked at her. They were in for a long night, but first, he had to make it up to her, and he knew exactly how.

Sonic told him about it and said it was funny, so Shadow mentioned it while his partner was venting because he thought it was good timing. spoilers: it wasn’t.

“Can you fucking believe it, Shadow? My sister wants me to attend this stupid gathering, I told her it was fucking useless, I don’t give two shits about them because of what they did in the past, they never… They’ve never even fucking apologized! I’m just so mad right now, how can they be so stupid? Idiots! But you know what’s worse? The fact that…”

Shadow looked at his partner, listening intently at her venting. His gaze went in between her and her hands folding the laundry. His mind somewhere else as he recalled a conversation he had in the morning with his blue copy.

“This is a good way to cheer your girl up! Believe me! I’ve tried it before and it totally works.” Shadow looked at him, a skeptic look in his eyes. 

“Are you sure pranking her is the best way to cheer her up? But why if it’s something vulnera-”

“Naaah, I don’t think anything is that bad that you have to care too much about it.” Sonic explained while munching on his fifth chili dog of the day. “And besides, it’s just a simple harmless prank, she’ll laugh and it’d be alright.”

“...And I was like, ‘You remember what auntie said the last time I was there, why do you want me to go so fucking bad?’ ugh, it’s like a nightmare, I can’t wrap my head around it, really!”

He knew it was something serious because she was cursing a lot, or maybe she felt kind of free now that she was letting it all out? Was it a great time to do that prank? Maybe she’ll stop running in circles and just give herself some time…

“That sounds hard, Sora.”

Silence.

His face was stern, his position sitting on the bed seemed relaxed, but on the inside he was gauging her next words or actions in response to his words. Pressing his lips, he waited for her reaction, but it seemed like the world just stopped, did he stop time unconsciously? No, because the ceiling fan was still moving over their heads. 

“What did you just say?”

But he didn’t reply. More like he couldn’t. He already wanted to say it was a prank, but he stopped himself. Maybe if he waited a bit more… He could hear the sound of her cries.

Her cries?

His mind shifted violently, attentive to the sound of distress coming from the girl. Shadow took a step, horrified at the scene. She covered her face with her hands and dropped to her knees as she kept on crying.

That was his sign. Kneeling in front of her, Shadow took her by the wrist, relieved that she didn’t push him away instantly. 

“Shh sh, it was a prank, I'm sorry, I wasn’t being serious.” He said, trying to reason with her. That seemed to make the trick as she stopped for a bit, head still on her hands as she seemed to take a deep breath. The calmness didn’t last long as the girl shook her head and kept on crying, her face still fully covered.

He tried getting her hands away from her face, trying to get a glimpse of her eyes, wanting his point to come across, but she wasn’t budging.

Shadow just stared at her, his capacity of dealing with emotions almost close to none as he tried to find a way to solve this situation he himself caused. Lucky for him, her cries started to die down, not because she was less sad, but because she was tired from crying.

Being able to see her eyes eased him for a bit, but something still pulled at the strings of his heart: what would she say now?

The girl got up from the floor, walking out from her room straight to the kitchen. Shadow followed silently, afraid of her next move or word. She took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank. Two, three gulps and then she stopped, closing the bottle again. Shadow felt his heart beating hard against his chest with suspense, when she turned at him, her red eyes from crying staring deeply into his. 

And then she smiled.

“Damn,” she said, sighing. “I needed that.”

Shadow blinked a few times trying to register her words. “What?”

The girl chuckled and wiped the tears off from her face, staring at him. “Yeah, you think I believed you?” a sarcastic laugh fell from her lips. “Chaos, you seemed so nonchalant trying to convince me you really had another girl, that was so funny!” 

“Wait, you… You faked it?” He asked, still not being able to wrap his head around the entirety of the situation.

“Yeah! Woah, I really needed to cry, I feel lighter now, thanks for the push, Shadz.” She said, winking at the black hedgehog, walking past him to their room again. “And, I recommend you practice your facial expressions, you seemed scared even before I started crying, if you plan on pranking Sonic, you’ll need to try harder.”

The man stood there, shocked as he then turned and questioned. “What the- Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” She asked, stopping before entering the room, turning her head at him.

“That! I-“ He suddenly felt the weight of everything on his chest, making him almost suffocate from the whiplash of emotions he just experienced. “I almost had a heart attack.”

With a playful glint on her eye, she nodded before turning around and keeping on walking. “Suits you right.”

[dandelionprints]

Don't Be Late

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Y/N (lil bit of fluff, angst, tormented Tommy and comfort)

Summary: When Tommy makes a promise to his wife he could never imagine that breaking it could potentially cost Y/N her life.

Warnings: bad language, a couple of slur words as used in the show *not words that I myself deem acceptable!*, a lot of violence, mentions of injuries, blood and death. Reader discretion is advised, do not read if you feel uncomfortable with this kind of content

Word Count: This is a long one coming in at 6,800k

A/N: It's been a while since I've written a full blown fic but I was on a roll so I just went with it! I hope you enjoy, please do like, reblog and/or comment your thoughts on it, I really appreciate the feedback x

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

"It's been three days, Pol. Why won't she wake up?"

He leant forwards in his chair, a hand gently grasping  Y/N's as she lay motionless on her hospital bed. Her body was battered with violent purple bruises and cuts covering what seemed to be every inch of her body.

The last three days had been hell, with a mixture of so many emotions running through him  that he didn't know where to put and the not knowing. Worry, anger, sadness. Guilt. So much guilt, it consumed him. 

Tommy wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to forgive himself for not being there to protect her. It could be said that it was a case of "wrong person, wrong time", but that did nothing to subside the sense of dread that filled his stomach whenever he thought about the brutality his wife had been through, all because of him. How scared she must have been on her own waiting for him to come and save her, but he came too late.

"Give her time, Tom. She's been through a lot, her body’s trying to heal, we can't rush these things. Besides, the doctor said this morning that the swelling and bleeding has started to go down so she is getting better. Slowly. We just have to be patient", Aunt Polly delicately placed her hand on his shoulder, softly stroking her thumb back and forth over the newly clean shirt. 

Polly had brought a clean set of clothes to the hospital after seeing that Tommy was too terrifed to leave Y/N at the hospital alone for even a second, leaving him wearing blood soaked clothes for the first day. Y/N's blood.

"I should've been there Pol. None of this would've happened if I hadn't gotten too cocky and dragged John and Arthur down to London to Sabini's club. All this for a fucking business expansion"

He lowered his head and brought his free hand to his forehead, pinching at the sides as if to relieve some of the stress growing with tension there.

"Fuck!", he shouted before quickly covering his face with his hand.

Tommy could feel tears springing to his eyes as he glared down between the gaps in his fingers at the speckled hospital floor. He was so tired of crying in the presence of anyone that wasn't Y/N since the night this whole shit show happened, it made him feel weak knowing other people could see that in fact, yes, Tommy Shelby does have emotions. Y/N  was the only one he'd been able to willingly show any kind of vulnerable emotion to since he'd returned from the war.

The sound of a lighter flicking open followed by the quick sizzle of a cigarette being lit came from behind him as Polly took a drag, before holding it within Tommy's line of vision. 

"Here, take this".

He hesitated for a moment, making sure that no tears would fall, then slowly lifted his head and reached for the now softly glowing cigarette bringing it to his lips and taking a long pull, exhaling the smoke as if it were the stress partially releasing from his body.

Aunt Pol watched him carefully, almost as if she were waiting to see if he was going to explode like a ticking time bomb or finally let his shoulders relax and sink into the chair. She was thankful when he chose the latter, slowly leaning back against the wooden frame, still holding onto Y/N's hand.

"You should go back to the house, Tom. Get some rest. I'll stay with her until you come back", she spoke softly, her own eyes tired from the constant secret worrying she'd been doing as well as sitting with Tommy next to Y/N's bed the last three days.

"No. I won't leave her, Pol. I can't leave her, it's my fault she ended up like this, I can't risk them coming back or the risk of her...", he stopped his words in their tracks as a lump formed in his throat. The tears that had only just subsided now came back, threatening to spill over, "Of her dying. Alone. Without me here letting her know she's safe, that I'm sorry. So fucking sorry"

Polly's face grew empathetic as she saw the pain etched all over Tommy's, the vacant glassiness of his eyes that had only grown darker over the past few days.

"She's not going to die..."

"She might, Pol!", his anger exploded then, the ticking time bomb she'd been waiting for had finally gone off.

The chair scraped on the floor as he stood, letting go of Y/N's hand, before turning to face his aunt who remained seated, not taking her eyes off him.

"How can you be so sure that she's gonna live, eh? How can you be so sure that she's ever going to open her eyes again?"

There was less accusation in his words than it seemed, more like a plead for some kind of reassurance or promise that the love of his life would be okay, that she'd return to the real world again.

Polly stood, then, calm and collected. 

"Because I know Y/N Shelby, and so do you. She's a tough girl, it'll take more than Sabini and the fuckers who did this to take her down. Now, go home and get some sleep. I'll stay here with her, give her a wash and read some of your poetry outloud. The nurses say she can still hear what's going on around her, that she may even end up dreaming of things that are being said so we'll be having no more talk of death. John said he'll take the next shift of watching the door so tell him when you get back to come here. You know he won't let those bastards go anywhere near her if they so much as step foot near the hospital"

Polly’s eyes remained on him like a mother scolding her child until they did what they were told. She knew that he was still reluctatant to leave Y/N's bedside but felt relief when he subtly nodded to her, stubbing out his cigarette and picking up his coat before leaning over Y/N to place a kiss on her head, being careful to avoid the purpling bruise that was forming there.

"I'll be back in two hours, Pol, then you can go home and get some sleep", he said simply, making his way over to the door.

"Not two, six. You need a proper sleep"

He narrowed his eyes at her without saying anything, his lips twitching as if ready to disagree with what his aunt had said.

"I'd say eight but I know you won't be able to stay away for that long. What good are you to her if your eyes can't even focus on what the gun is aiming at? Go. Get some sleep"

Three days earlier

They'd agreed that they would meet at 8pm later that evening, after Tommy finished up with business for the day, where the family car was stored in the garage near the Shelby family home.

"Don't keep me waiting too long", she giggled, stroking his face with the palm of her hand.

"Who says you'll be waiting?", he smiled, taking the hand that was on his cheek and bringing it to his mouth, placing a soft kiss to it.

The Garrison hadn't opened for the day yet but the Peaky Boys were starting to gather at the bar, getting in a pint before the days business was about to begin. John and Arthur were already trying to place a bet with Isaiah about who could down the most pints before blacking out with Arthur claiming it to be him.

"Eh, lads! No more drinking until business is finished for the day, and Arthur, I could place twenty pound on it being anyone but you who could drink the most", Tommy interrupted, leading to a cackle of ladish jeers. 

Y/N laughed before getting Tommy's attention once again, this time placing a finger beneath his chin and gently pulling his face towards hers.

"I know you, Tommy Shelby. You like to be on time when it's for business but business is also what makes you late to see me"

He felt a pang of guilt hit his stomach at her words, he knew she was right. He'd lost count of how many times he'd come home to find her curled up in front of the fire in his office fast asleep. How many times he'd either carried her up to bed or simply placed a blanket over her while he continued working into the early hours of the morning. 

"I promise, love. I'll be at the garage at 8pm sharp"

This time he leant forward and touched his lips to hers, taking in the sweet flavour of her lips that he loved so much.

"Go on, Pol will be waiting for you"

She paused, "Is it bad to say that I don't believe you?"

"I promise, Y/N"

She wanted to believe the sincerity in his eyes but a tiny part of her knew that she'd more than likely be kept waiting out in the cold while he finished up business for the day. 

"Okay", she half smiled, "I love you, Mr. Shelby"

Tommy kissed her then, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear.

"I love you too, Mrs. Shelby"

---

It was already dark by the time she'd made her way to their meeting point with only the glow from a firepit in the workshop opposite as the main source of light, rain flooding down onto the pavement outside in typical autumnal British fashion creating the sound of pattering on the old tin roof of the garage.

Y/N sighed as she leant against the black Ford Model T, taking a look at her watch. 8:03pm. 

'Well, it's only three minutes late, let's see if he's here before four minutes late', she thought to herself. 

There wasn't much to see in the garage other than old petrol can's and some oiled rags that had been dropped lazily on the floor, not that she could see much anyway with only the fire for her source. In fact, it only stretched as far as half the length of the garage, where unbenownsed to her there were men that were lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting victim. 

"Get 'em!"

The sound of a thick London Italian accent echoed through the cold rickety room and all Y/N could think to do was to cower against the car, waiting to be manhandled in some kind of way, the panic instantly settling into her chest.

It was obvious that the men who now had their fists blowing punches to her face didn't have a clue it was in fact a woman they were beating and not a man, probably due to the fact the fire was doing little to show that she'd wrapped her scarf over her head to stop the rain from ruining her curls. They didn't realise until she mustered enough strength through the continuous punches to let out the loudest scream she could.

It was only then that the men took a step back as the same voice from before bellowed out, "Stop!"

She held her hands up to her face and felt a slick warm liquid quickly covering them, the skin beneath it sore to the touch. Her left eye was blurry from the mixture of what she could only assume to be blood and swelling, but she could just about make out the silhoutte of a slim man with a hat standing near the wall.

The adrenaline was already kicking in helping to keep some of the pain from showing it's full potential, but her fight or flight hadn't seemed to of made an appearance yet. All she could do was stand there, frozen to the spot, her hands still holding her bloodied face.

"You must be Tommy Shelby's missus", spoke the man with the hat, taking a step forward confirming in the dim light that it was who she'd feared it would be. Sabini.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?", he smirked, leering towards her only inches from her face, "Apologies for the misunderstanding, we thought you were Mr. Shelby"

Her heart dropped into her stomach at the thought that this beating was meant for Tommy, that she knew they intended to do more than land a few punches to his face. She spat at the ground infront of Sabini's feet.

"You're lucky it was me and not Tommy, he'd have your eyes the minute you laid your hands on him", she was surprised by how even she managed to keep her voice despite the sheer panic coursing through her. 

Y/N knew it was a lie, that Tommy would be far too outnumbered to take on five of Sabini's men on his own especially without being able to see much.

Sabini laughed, throwing his head back slightly before stopping abruptly and grabbing onto each of her arms.

"You listen here you little princess, I don't think you quite understand the extent of how pissed off I am at your fella. You see, him and his brothers came to my club in London two nights ago. The Eden Club. A well run establishment, I'm sure you've heard of it. Anyway, they caused such a fucking scene that I've had to take matters into my own hands. I was planning on getting to Tommy, show him how scared he should really be about barging into one of my clubs, but it seems I may now have an even better way of sending that message".

Even with the light uneven across his features she could see a sly snarl creep onto Sabini's face, his breath fanning against her skin as he spoke. It was enough to make her want to wretch.

"Right boys, forget about Tommy. I want you to do what you were going to do to Tommy to her"

Her heart flew straight into her throat, threatening to jump out of her mouth at any moment. She wanted to throw up but the best thing she could do now would be to gain as much attention to passers by as she could. She screamed again only to have her mouth covered by Sabini as two men took over the hold on her arms.

"Listen here you little bitch, whether you like it or not, you're getting a beating. If Tommy's not man enough to face me himself and resorts to showing up to one of my clubs instead then this is what happens, someones pretty little face gets smashed in"

"You're a fucking creep! Tommy will be here any minute and I'm sure his brothers will be with him too, you won't know what fucking hit you!", she spat, the venom spewing from her mouth.

Sabini wasted no time in landing a hard slap against her already throbbing cheek making her splutter out whatever saliva she had left. He didn't leave it there though as his gripped both hands around her throat, squeezing as tight as he could.

"We'll be glad to see Tommy and his brothers, we can have a nice little catch up. Those boys couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery no matter how hard they tried so I'm not too worried. Carry on boys"

He let go of her throat leading her to gasp for air, her lungs felt like they were on fire with every harsh breath.

She didn't even have time to brace herself from the punch that was swiftly administered to her stomach, knocking out every bit of air she had managed to gain back, bringing her to the ground with a hard thump. Her head bounced off the ground sending a shockwave of pain running over her skull and down her neck. 

The punches were now followed by the kicks of steel toe capped boots, each kick more painful than the last until she almost felt numb. Where the fuck is Tommy?

She wanted nothing more than to scream out for him, to hear him running towards the men with bullets flying, ready to put an end to this nightmare, but all she could do was sob as the pain coursed through her.

"Boys, hold her up", Sabini's voice cut through the sound of the thumps and thuds, his voice menacing laced with a sneer.

Two men gripped Y/N's arms and yanked her back onto her feet, knees buckling beneath her with one of her ankles too weak to bare any weight. She was pretty sure she had some broken ribs and that her ankle was much the same way but she knew there was nothing she could do about it now. The only thing she could do was let her head loll forwards with sheer exhaustion. 

It was hard to keep her eyes open as her head was pulled up by a harsh grab of her hair, weakness taking over her entire body.

"Look at me. I said look at me!"

Another firm yank of the hair had her gaze just about managing to focus on Sabini, his eyes showing a glint of evil.

"I want you to tell your dirty gypsy husband that I'm coming for him next, if he wants to take over my race tracks then he's gonna have to fight for it"

"You're a fucking pig Sabini", her voice was hoarse as she spoke, her head longing to fall fowards again and let her eyes shut.

"Take my fucking name out of your mouth! 'Ere, Franco, take my name out of this scum's mouth"

She wasn't prepared for what came next as a blade was forced inside her mouth, her cheeks slowly being cut as well as a part of her lip. The taste of the metallic blood filled every tastebud, the only noise she was able to make were muffled groans as the cold metal sliced roughly through her skin.

Her body suddenly dropped to the floor once more, the sound of the mens foot steps starting to fade as they made their way towards the back of the garage and through a hole in the wooden panelling. 

"Don't forget to give your husband my message, if you survive that is", Sabini's spoke, a chuckle following him as he finally left her and made his way out the same way as the other men. 

She had no energy to even cry any more, a numbness enveloping her body and the blood still slowly seeping out of every cut she'd sustained.

She couldn't focus on anything now, the need for sleep becoming too great to keep her eyes open. She didn't even hear Tommy's footsteps quickly approaching the garage a minute later where she lay in a pool of her own blood. All she could do was let her eyelids drop as she slipped into darkness.

—

"Y/N! Oh fuck, Y/N!"

His cries bellowed through the bleak surroundings, the only movement to be seen was the flicker of the flames from the fire in his peripheral. 

“John! Arthur! Where the fuck are you?”, he screamed into the night before turning his attention back to Y/N.

"C'mon Y/N you need to wake up now, c'mon sweetheart", his desperate pleas did nothing as he cradled her head, her blood soaking into his trousers. He could see her chest rising and falling but knew that it was getting slower and slower with every moment that passed by.

It'd only been a minute or so since he'd gotten there but he could've sworn it'd been more like an hour, his heart thumping so hard that he thought it would surely pop out of his chest. 

"John! Arthur!"

Tears were streaming down his face, dripping onto Y/N's blood soaked cheeks, leaving streaks running through the red liquid.

He knew his brothers were meant to be on their way with the promise of a bed at Arrow House for the night. He just hoped that they would be sober enough to help deal with the chaos that was going on.

There was so much blood that he didn't know what to do. Sure, he could leave Y/N and go get help himself, but he didn't want to leave her alone for even a second. He'd already let her down once this evening and he'd be damned if he was going to let her die here alone on the cold stone floor, or have the people who did this to her come back and finish off the job.

John and Arthur came stumbling through the open door of the garage, an arm wrapped over each others shoulders as they laughed about how many women they'd managed to pull that night. As soon as they saw the scene in front of them though, the laughing soon stopped and they both straightened up, their eyes almost not wanting to look at the state before them.

"Who the fuck did this, Tommy? Where the fuck are they? I'll fuckin’ get 'em Tom I fuckin’ promise you, those bastards won't get away with this!" John's hands had grown into fists with his knuckles turning white, the anger twisting his face into pure hatred.

"It doesn't matter right now, John. Just go and get help, call a fucking ambulance!", Tommy looked to Arthur whose expression had turned more into terror than anything else, "Arthur, I need you to get Pol, tell her Y/N's hurt, badly. Tell her I need her here, I need... just get her Arthur, now"

It took a second longer than Tommy would've liked but both brothers soon turned and ran out towards the Shelby family home, their legs wobbling beneath them as they went.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so fucking sorry", Tommy sobbed as he gently stroked her face, pulling her in closer to him. His mind was racing with all the questions he was dying to know the answer to.

He knew he should be worrying about who it was that had done this to her but he was pretty sure he knew the answer to that already, and he wasn't about to waste what time he might have left with his wife thinking about that. No. All that mattered right now was that Y/N was going to live, that her eyes would open and she'd look up at him with that brilliant smile he loved so much to tell him that she was okay, that she was going to survive this.

Flashing lights appeared outside whilst Tommy had his head rested on Y/N's, whispering over and over again how sorry he was and how much he loved her. The pain he felt was all consuming and he knew he'd give anything to be in her position right now, just like it should have been.

Even when the medics came to retrive Y/N he couldn't bare to let her go, he insisted on carrying her into the back of the ambulance and holding her all the way to the hospital. They knew better than to argue with the Shelby man but managed to convince him to allow for her vitals to be monitored on the journey there, her pulse rate rapidly declining.

Polly hadn't arrived at the garage quick enough so Arthur had driven both Polly and John to the hospital at speed, swerving all over the road as they went, the tires slipping on the slick ground beneath them.

When they finally got there they saw Tommy disappearing through the double doors with Y/N still in his arms, a trail of blood on the floor behind him. This was going to be a long night.

—

The doctors had managed to get her heart rate back up to a reasonable pace by the time she was settled into a private hospital room. Fluids were being administered consistently alongside different medicines flowing through the tubes, her wounds now dressed with bandages and a thin blanket covering her black and blue body.

"Mr. Shelby, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal, it's a miracle she's still alive", a tall man with slicked blonde hair and glasses spoke, a clipboard and pen in his hands.

"When will she wake up?", Tommy tried to shake off his annoyance at the doctors statement of the obvious, of course this was a fucking terrible ordeal! Anyone with eyes could see that. He just wanted the facts that mattered most.

"Mr. Shelby, as I said, your wife has been through a terrible ordeal..."

Tommy grimaced, "I fucking know she has, don't you think I can see what's right in front of me? That and the fact I found my wife lying in a pool of her own blood half dead? Just tell me, when will she wake up?"

He was growing tired of not having answers to the main question he had and knew he wouldn't be able to relax until he had a definitive answer.

"The honest answer Mr. Shelby is that we don't know. To be blunt we're not sure if she's going to"

Tommy's heart dropped into his stomach.

"As you know, she's been through...", the doctor paused, not wanting to use the term 'terrible ordeal' again, "A lot. We've taken some images of her brain and we can see that she has some bleeding and swelling. We're not sure that she can recover from something like that, we can only hope that she will. Her injuries are severe, Mr. Shelby. As well as the damage to the brain she also has some internal bleeding, broken ribs, a collapsed lung, brusing to the esophagus, cuts to the inside of her mouth and a broken ankle. We're doing everything we can to ensure that she'll recover from this but it will take time. I'm sorry"

A ringing sounded in Tommy's ears, a noise so defeaning that he couldn't focus on anything right now other than the fact Y/N might not make it through this. His chest tightened and he found himself struggling to breathe, the sheer weight of the words he'd just heard sitting heavy on his chest.

"Are you okay, Mr. Shelby?"

"Leave. Now, please. Leave!"

The doctor wasted no time in carrying out Tommy's order as he scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Tommy fell to the floor, his knee's weak and unable to hold him upright. He clutched his chest as he gasped for the air that seemed to have become so thin in the room. Tears that had gathered in his eyes began to fall and there was nothing more he could do than kneel there on the cold floor as his world came crashing down around him. 

If he'd of been there at the time they'd agreed then this wouldn't have happened, not to Y/N anyway. It would be him laying in the hospital bed in front of him instead of her, or he'd be laying in a ditch somewhere ready for some poor passerby to find when dawn came. 

He knew for a fact that the guilt that was growing in strength would never leave him even if she did make it out of this, that he'd always blame himself for not being on time. 

A small knock on the door brought him shakily back up onto his feet again as he gripped onto the frame of the bed. Tommy managed to wipe away his tears just in time for Polly, John and Arthur to walk into the room. 

He couldn't look at them, only at Y/N laying in the bed. Her lifeless body was slightly sinking into the mattress beneath her, a mess of hair covered in congealed blood surrounded her head.

"Is she going to be okay, Tom?", John's voice quietly cut through the silence like a knife. 

Tommy took a moment before letting out a sigh, the lump in his throat wanting to escape and cause tears to come flooding out. 

"I don't know. The doctor said that she's got bleeding and swelling on the brain amongst other things. They don't know if she's going to wake up".

The room stayed silent with no one wanting to say a word, both for fear of upsetting Tommy further and also because what else was there to say? There was nothing any of them could do to make the situation better or to make light of any of this.

Tommy took a seat next to Y/N's bed side and held her fragile hand, longing for her to wrap her fingers around his, but of course she didn't. Even that alone was enough to make his heart break.

"John. I need you to arrange for the blinders to be on a rotation of a look out. I don't want anybody coming in or out this hospital without us knowing about it. Arthur, take Isaiah and a couple of the blinders with you to London, I need you to find Sabini", Tommy spoke plainly, not taking his eyes off of Y/N.

"Yes, Tom", Arthur nodded, motioning for John to follow his lead out of the room.

"Oh, and Arthur? When you find him", Tommy turned to look at him now, his eyes cold but somehow a fire lit in them, "Bring him to me. Alive"

—

Three days later

As expected, Tommy arrived back at the hospital within four hours instead of the six Aunt Polly had ordered. 

He couldn't sleep. Every time he'd managed to drift off he was soon awoken by nightmares of Y/N's screams as she was repeatedly kicked and punched, the sound each one of the blows made making his stomach churn. He could see her body laying there in a pool of blood with sobs wracking her chest... her calling out his name and him not being able to reach her even though he could see everything that was happening. 

Tommy woke up in a cold sweat, his clothes soaked right through and his hair wet. He decided he was better off admitting defeat than to try going back to sleep, the thought of having to see those images of Y/N whenever he closed his eyes was enough to make his blood run cold. 

His childhood home was quiet when he made his way downstairs. Ada had taken Finn to Arrow House under her watchful eye with Karl, it was better to be in a house that was stocked with firearms than back in London with nothing but a single pistol and where Sabini could be lurking in the shadows. 

John had gone to the hospital to take the next watch and Arthur was somewhere in London seeking out Sabini and his lackeys, waiting to hand him a blow that would make the Italian man wish he'd never come to Birmingham.

Tommy decided on having a bath before putting on clean clothes, taking a look in the mirror before he left. His complexion had almost drained of colour over the past three days with the exception of the dark circles that appeared under his eyes, much darker than usual. 

"God I hope she wakes up soon", he muttered to himself, adorning his peaky cap and reaching for the door handle before stepping out onto the bustling streets of Birmingham, lighting a smoke as he made his way to the hospital.

When he walked through the doors of Y/N's room he noticed something different. Aunt Polly was no longer sitting there with sadness in her eyes, instead she was stood next to the bed holding Y/N's hand, a small smile upon her face.

His eyebrows furrowed with confusion and his pace slowed as he approached her.

"What's happened?" he asked, nervous energy rushing through him.

"She moved, Tom. All on her own, she moved!"

Polly was beaming now, fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she had to resist the urge to hug him.

"What do you mean she moved?"

"I mean, I was reading her one of your poems and holding her hand. Her fingers started to move as if she was trying to tell me she could hear me. She's still in there Tommy"

His heart swelled in his chest although he didn't want to get his hopes up too much, there was nothing worse that breaking your own heart with false hope.

"It might've just been the nerves jumping, Pol. She probably doesnt have control of her body right now", he knew he sounded like dismissive bastard but he couldn't bring himself to believe that Y/N could do that but not open her eyes.

"Stop being so bloody negative Thomas. I'm telling you exactly what I saw with my own two eyes. Read to her yourself, you'll see", Polly scolded him, picking up the pages she'd left on her seat and going to hand them to him.

Tommy said nothing but shook his head towards the pages and instead took a step closer towards Y/N's bed. 

Polly placed Y/N's hand in his and softly spoke, "Y/N love, if you can hear what we're saying then squeeze Tommy's hand, let us know that you're still there".

He held his breath as he waited to see if she'd respond, his eyes watching her fingers like a hawk.

"She's not moving, Pol. You're seeing things with the lack of sleep, go home and get to bed, I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere"

"Don't tell me what you think I may be or may not be seeing and certainly don't tell me what to do. You may be a man now Thomas but I'm still able to lay you across my knee and give you a good hiding", her eyes glared daggers into the side of his head as he continued to stare at Y/N's fingers, unmoving on top of his.

"I'm sorry Pol, I just can't... I just can't stand the thought of having the hope there that she'll show me she's okay if she never actually...", he stopped dead in his tracks.

His mouth dropped open and his gaze widened in shock as Y/N's fingers started to slowly lift upwards before coming back down to rest on top of his fingers, trying to curl themselves around his.

"Y/N? It's okay, I'm here. You're safe", he placed his free hand over hers and leant over to kiss her head, the bruises still prominent, "I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so fucking sorry".

Tommy couldn't hold back the tears that were coming and let them spill out to fall down her cheeks, the overwhelming burst of relief he felt within his soul was like nothing he could explain. 

Polly stood with a hand over her mouth, a smile beneath her fingers. 

"T-T-Tommy?..."

Did she just speak?

His head shot up, eyes wide in disbelief. When he caught the first glimpse of her face he could see that her eyes were slightly open. Her eyeballs had red spots on them where blood vessels had burst, either from the pressure of being strangled or from the numerous hits to the face she'd sustained. He tried to hide the shock that hit him and gently cradled her face with both hands, careful not to press down on the discoloured blotches that lay beneath them.

"You're awake, you're... I-I can't believe it", he stuttered, scanning her face for any kind of expression.

"Y-you... w-w-were... late", she croaked.

It was almost as if he'd taken a stab to the chest as her words met his ears and the guilt came flooding back.

"I know, I'm so, so sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for this, not for as long as I live"

He stifled a sniff as his tears continued, a sob escaping his lips as his face screwed up into pure anguish.

"I-it's... okay", she murmered, taking a deep breath, "do-don't be... s-sorry... I-I'm j-just... glad i-it w-wasn't... you"

"No sweetheart, no. It's not okay, none of this is okay. Because of me, you're lying here in a hospital bed, completely black and blue with internal injuries and broken bones, all because I got too cocky and tried to challenge that fucker. I swear to you, Y/N. I'm gonna put a bullet between his eyes for this, he's not going to get away with it".

He brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face and she smiled softly, the memory of him doing to same back in The Garrison just before she'd left him that day, just before all of this happened…

"H-he said t-t-to... g-give you a... m-message..."

"No, shh shh, it's okay. You don't need to tell me anything right now, you need to rest and get better. You can hardly speak. Tell me anything you need to when you start to feel better. All I care about right now is that I have you, here, alive. No amount of money nor business could come close to how happy I am right at this very moment"

Two Days Later

She'd been awake more frequently over the next couple of days with each day being better than the last. Her bruises had now started to turn a lighter shade of blue with greens and browns dotted through them and the bleeding and swelling on her brain had improved significantly. 

The doctors were stunned at how well she was doing, they half expected her to die within the first few days she'd arrived at the hospital. 

"How are you feeling today?", Tommy asked as he stroked her hair from his position on the edge of the bed.

"A bit be-tter than yesterday", she softly smiled. She couldn't deny that she still felt like absolute shit and that every time she breathed it felt like she was trying to push air through a straw, but she was just relieved that she'd survived this whole ordeal, "Can you h-help me sit up a b-bit please?"

He instantly stood and gently swooped an arm beneath her legs and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her up before sitting her back down on the bed and repositioning her pillows behind her against the headboard. She winced with the motion but tried her best to hide it. She already knew that Tommy had so much guilt eating him up inside, it almost felt like if she showed him that she was in any kind of pain that it was a reminder of how much he'd fucked up.

"Is that okay?"

She nodded slowly, aware of her aching neck with every slight movement.

"Good, it's nice to see you looking a bit more like yourself", he smiled, his eyes studying every inch of her face.

"Sabini t-told me to tell y-you t-that he's coming for y-you next and that I-if you want to take o-over his race tracks then you're gonna h-have to fight for it... I'm s-scared, Tommy"

Tommy moved his chair closer to the bed, so close that his knees were touching the side of the frame, and took her hand in his.

"I promise you Y/N, you have nothing to be scared about. I know that I broke my promise before about being on time and it cost both of us more than I thought possible, but I swear to you, right here, right now in this moment, I won't let that fucker come near you ever again"

A response to that seemed impossible. Of course she wanted to believe her own husband but when he'd already broken one promise, one that had ultimatley almost led to her death, how could she possibly believe that he'd keep this one?

He could see her thoughts running round her mind, her eyebrows furrowing and mouth twitching like she didn't know what to say.

"Look, I know I fucked up massively. I will never be able to explain to you how sorry I am and I'd understand completely if you didn't want to be with me any more, but please believe that I will do everything in power from here on out to make sure that you're safe"

He was almost scared to hear what she was going to say. Did she want to leave him? Was he destined to lose his wife, not by death this time, but from the sheer fact she didn't think he could keep her safe?

"I-I could n-never leave you, T-Tommy Shelby", she smiled, her lips curving up into her bruised cheeks. 

Tommy stood up and brushed his lips against hers, laying a tender kiss upon them before pulling back slightly, enough to still feel her breath on his face.

"Just p-promise me one m-more thing", she spoke, looking into his eyes.

"Anything"

"Don't ever be l-late again"

He grinned, the twinkle in his eyes that she hadn't seen since waking up returning once more.

"I promise"

———

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[miniwheat77]

Nasty. (Mean!König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, König being a big meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight dub con, poorly translated German, this is short forgive me, (sorry if I missed any.)

Your nerves are completely shot as you stand in a line. You don’t know why, but he’s so so mean. So mean. He hates you for some reason. Absolutely hates you.

You’re lined up with other Sergeants, waiting nervously as Colonel König passes each of you. “Y/L/N, 50 push ups. im Augenblick.”

You know better than to argue, so you drop to the floor, beginning to do your push ups. Trying not to cry. You wish you could just know why he’s so mean to you. You just didn’t understand, you’d never done anything. You were always kind to him. Always obeyed him. When you finish your push ups, he’s excused everyone else and he’s watching you intently. “Colonel.” You ask, out of breath. He looks at you. “Can I ask why you gave me 50 push ups?” He stands there, eyes dark as he stares upon you.

“50 more.” He breathes. “Now.” A sigh leaves your lips and you obey him, dropping down to your knees again and propping yourself up. “When you’re finished you can go to bed.” He breathes. You choose to ignore him, tired of the way he’s treating you. He walks away down the hallway, but watches to make sure you actually finish your push ups. You do. He smirks to himself. You stand up when you finish and walk down the hallway to your room. You don’t understand.

A couple days later, you wait patiently for an order. You’ve been burned out completely, he’s making you run laps around the base and your eyes are burning from the sweat dripping down your face. The sun is beating down on you and he won’t let you stop for anything. He disappeared a while ago and you haven’t seen him. Your vision starts to blur, and you look confused. Legs slowing to a stop against your will. You start to see other colors, brighter colors filling your vision. That’s all you remember.

König forgot. He went inside for a second and he was going to head back out to relieve you but he got distracted. He’s sitting in his office when he hears yelling, and stands up to peek outside. Curious what the commotion is. He sees another Sergeant bursting through the door carrying you, and his stomach falls. “I need a medic!” He calls. Others flood the hallway and a medic appears. They’re rushing you back to the infirmary. “What’s going on?” She asks. “I don’t know, I found her outside passed out.”

She sighs. “She’s having a heat stroke, we need to cool her temperature down.” König walks away from the infirmary. He knows he’s a little extreme sometimes.

—

“My office, now.” His stern voice sends chills up your spine. You follow after him.

He closes the door behind you and walks around you, staring you down. “I said 50 push ups.” He crosses his arms. “I will do them, but I want to know why first.” You breath. He mumbles something under his breath in German, you don’t hear him. “Now.” He breathes. “No.” You breathe. “I deserve to know why.” He let’s out a deep chuckle and you know you’re digging yourself a hole, but you’re tired of this. “You listen to me, girl.” He growls. “I don’t have to explain myself. I don’t have to tell you why. I say jump, you fucking jump.” He growls. “dummes Mädchen.” He growls. You know what he’s just said. “Fuck you.” You growl. His eyes snap to you, wide. He’s pissed. In one second, he’s got you slammed up against a wall. Hand around your throat. He’s watching you turn a shade of red. “Fine. You want to fucking disobey me?” He breathes. You can feel his spit particles landing on your face. He’s seething. “Ich zeige dir, was ich mit bösen Mädchen mache.” He growls, he lets go of your throat and spins you around. Forcing you down onto his desk.

Your eyes widen as he tears your cargo pants down your legs, forcing them down. What is this? Why is he reacting like this? You feel the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance and in one hard thrust, he forces his cock into you and a gasp gets stuck in your throat as he starts to thrust himself into you. He’s stretching you and it hurts. Tears prick your eyes at the intrusion, a cry leaving your lips.

Luckily your body gets used to him. Your hands clutch his desk and he groans out. Hands holding your hips in a death grip, sure to leave bruises in their wake. His belt rattles violently with each of his brutal thrusts, the massive man makes you look small. Watching the way your pussy stretches around his massive cock has his eyes rolling back. You’re quiet for a while, but his thrusts halt immediately when a moan leaves your lips. He spins you around, pupils blown out. He can’t believe his ears. “Do you like this?” He asks. You’re leaning up against his desk, body exposed to his judgmental eyes. You stay quiet which earns a sharp slap to your cheek. You nod your head shyly. He grasps your thighs, forcing you back onto his desk again, returning his cock to your weepy hole. He thrusts in again and you cry out. “Ah! König please- slower please-“ you whimper. “You can take it, we both know you can.” He growls. He squeezes your breasts too hard and you whimper out, he’s so mean. “You like when I’m mean to you, dumme Hure” he growls. “You like when I bully your slutty pussy. I know how wet you get for me when I’m mean to you. You like it. So take it. Nimm mich, du verdammte Schlampe”

A cry leaves your lips as he bullies your cunt. Thrusting into you hard, not giving you anytime to adjust to him or his massive size. His desk is sliding across the floor with a violent screech, it doesn’t phase him. Not even a little bit. His groans that he’s letting out, they’re something different. You’ve never heard him being pleasured before, only angry at you. Maybe this is how you could make him happier. Maybe this is how you fix him being mean to you. You’ve got a death grip on his desk, his cock is pushing into your cervix and it’s too much. Bordering uncomfortable but you don’t dare tell him that. You keep your legs open for him, letting him use you. His moans are getting a little more desperate. Whimpers almost. “Oh fuck, so tight.” He gasps. He pushes one of your legs up a little higher, cock sliding even further into you. How on earth you were handling him was beyond you. You can’t help as your eyes start to water, tears beginning to spill from your eyes at the intensity of his massive cock. He’s overwhelming you. You can’t help it. “König?” You ask. “What?” He growls, “can I cum?” You whimper. You can see the way the small wrinkles around his eyes form, he’s smiling. “Now that’s a good girl, asking for permission.” He breathes. “Just a little longer.” He breathes.

You’re right on the edge. He’s pushing you over it quickly and you don’t know if you can hold on. “Ich sagte, warte”

You nod your head eagerly and he’s smiling down at you again. His cock twitches slightly and he’s about to cum. “Cum now, Liebling” he mumbles. You fall apart completely beneath him. Thighs shaking, body shivering. Chills arising on your skin. Your eyes roll back and you’re sucked into another dimension for a minute. The sound of him panting is bringing you back down to earth. He slides out of you and you let out a gasp. Realizing what’s just happened, he’s cum in you. Your eyes widen slightly. Worry filling you up.

“Get dressed and go clean up.” He orders. You nod your head, obeying him immediately.

The feeling that settles into your chest, sadness. Because no matter how much you offered your body up for him. Your holes, he was always just going to be mean.

[bengiyo]

Ben's Big BL Blurb

I was traveling for a few weeks, and there's no way I'm doing individual posts for every show I've been watching, so here's my thoughts on all of the shows I'm currently enjoying, in the order I'm most enjoying them.

Twilight Out of Focus

This show is fucking excellent. I'm not that keen on taking a break from our leads to see other couples, but I do like that BL continues to be the way that these guys are figuring out they're attracted to each other. Mao moving so smoothly into his boyfriend era, and knowing how he's feeling, has been excellent. I also really loved Hisashi knowing they needed to not be together all the time.

The Trainee

Jane is so attractive, and I'm so happy for Off. This latest episode was a lot of fun to watch for Ryan, because it's nice seeing him be more actively engaged in things happening around him. Pai seems far more settled now that she knows she has a place. Pah is clearly still a mess. Tae seems like he's good at what he does. Ba-Mhee falling for Judy is NOT IDEAL, and Judy is over the line.

Overall, I'm actually interested in seeing them mirror interns crushing on their mentors with two different pairings as a point of comparison. I also like how every week feels like the work goals make sense.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear

Besties, so much is happening in this show. There is daddy drama, wife drama, dead son drama, and so much more! These episodes are so long, but I'm really engaged with everything happening on this show. Job and Inn are really fucking good in this.

I Hear the Sunspot

I'm so glad that Kohei made his feelings clear, and I'm enjoying seeing Taichi figure out how to respond to them. We once again had a camping trip that did not give me what I wanted, but I did like Kohei being clear that he's still interested in Taichi. Finally, I liked the little confirmations that Kohei is taking to sign, and that Taichi is interested in that journey.

Knock Knock, Boys!

I'm so proud of Best! He has played Peak in this restrained way for so long, and it paid off in this most recent episode. I love that this story started with a gay man running from himself and his feelings, who then realizes that he can't run away from people who care about him anymore because they won't let him. I love that everyone being patient with him gave him what he needed to finally accept himself and say what he needed. I've really loved the way Thanwa tries to support Peak.

I'm also overjoyed for Almond and Latte, and I need them to fuck nasty before this show ends or I will be so disappointed. Latte is quietly one of my blorbos of the year with the way he is always clear about who he is and what he wants even as he is okay with where Almond is in the moment. They're an excellent pair.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

RISA IS OFF THE BESTIE LIST FOREVER! I will never forgive her for outing Hiroko to Ayaka just so she could ask Ayaka to choose her instead. Also, fuck those Bettys at the bar, who definitely know Hiroko's business, and that she's not out at work. Why talk about her to a stranger who called her senpai?? I'm relieved that Hiroko knows that Ayaka likes women now, and am curious how we move forward at this point.

I also need to know who this woman was who hurt Hiroko, because nothing makes me sadder than when we have to hide from other queers.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Thanks to @isaksbestpillow I was actually able to start this on my trip. I didn't want to start a show on a trip, but I could not resist. I really love that Ishida is in his late 20s and struggling with direction and purpose after his initial plan blew up in his face. I love that he's recognized so quickly that he's developed feelings for Mitsuya-sensei, and I love that Mitsuya-sensei is open about who he is. It's about goddamned time that we saw an age gap story of this kind, because so many meaningful relationships I've had are with gay men older than me.

Takara's Treasure

This quiet little show makes me so happy every week. I just desperately need for Taishin to figure out what he's feeling, and for people to help him realize what he's feeling. Takara's my favorite kind of pretty boy: the ones who are obviously and poorly masking incredibly turmoil. I love that Taishin sees through this and wants to help Takara. Excited for him to get to take care of him when Takara gets sick.

Century of Love

I've been having a lot of fun with this show, but episode 8 felt like a huge wobble. I love that San was so committed to Vee the whole time, but the back and forth about the stone was tedious. San giving up the stone as a way to signify that he was over the memory of Vad was nice, but we didn't reconcile Vee's theft and the emotional cost of that.

Love Sea

MAHASAMUT!! WE FINALLY BEAT THAT NASTY OLD MAN'S ASS!! Mut trampling over a bullshit breakup and kicking Rak's dad's ass instead was so satisfying that it almost makes up for Mut having little identity outside of his relationship to Rake, or the terrible arc that Mook and Vie are having, over the last few weeks. I have been playing Stomp for the last few hours because I needed them to kick that man. Mut did not hit him enough.

New Shows

There's a bunch of stuff I have to sort out over the next few days. I'm not going back to My Love Mix Up TH, but I do plan to start 4 Minutes. There's also another J-BL in the grey I got some help finding called Sugar Dog Life.

Shout out to @lurkingshan for helping me watch a few things while I was gone, and also @twig-tea for keeping me apprised of which new shows I probably need to pick up.

[nilsavatar]

DAY 31 - A/B/O

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!Avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, ANGST, SMUT in the end, love bites, rubbing, sexual tension, olfactophilia (they both turn on by smelling arousal/pheromones), P in V, manhandling, oral (f receiving), face fucking, fingering, praising, cursing, pet name (ma’uniltı`ranyu - my dreamwalker), rough, knotting, dirty talk, overstimulation, edging, strangers to lovers, first time (first heat, loss of avatar body virginity), begging, difference in power (alpha-omega dynamics), soft-dom Neteyam (mention of marking, possessive behavior but he’s kind and caring), Jamie Flatters cameo. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Living in the body of an avatar is not as simple as one might think.

Little note: OMG! You have no idea how happy I am to have finally finished this fic. It has been on hiatus for so many months that I thought I would never publish it. The more time passed, the more the pressure to write something worth the long wait increased. I rewrote it so many times, but it never seemed good enough, and the editing was exhausting. I hope with all my heart not to disappoint your expectations. Please be forgiving: this is my first Omegaverse. Thank you🥰

If you would like to be tagged in future fics, please write it in the comments. I will be happy to add you all💕

Word Count: 7,6k

Masterlist - Request a fic

Aubree’s knowledge as a xenobiologist fell short in front of the challenges of living as a dreamwalker among the Na’vi.

The presence of a secondary sex was fascinating, fictional in the eyes of a human being, accustomed to a binary system. But on Pandora, things were way different. The natives displayed their primary sex (male or female) from birth, and their roles in the clan were influenced by signs that emerged during puberty. Alphas, predominantly men, possessed a massive physiognomy. Tall, muscular, strong-willed, controlled in character, yet predisposed to irascibility. Betas were the largest group, with an equal proportion of females and males, and the most human-like. Omegas, mostly women, were known for their petite and delicate build, along with a calming demeanor.

When she arrived on Pandora, she had no particular expectations of what her avatar’s designation would be. Still, no one would ever have considered a potential alpha looking at her features. Aubree was a spitfire who was unlikely to be pushed around and knew her stuff in professional terms. Someone who won’t let you get away with nothing. However, her dainty physique and conflict-avoiding tendency were clear indications she would be an omega (or beta at best). The moment she connected with the hybrid, clarity rained down on her like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her own body erupted in a chorus of sensations, each one clamoring for attention. It was as if every nerve ending had awoken from a deep sleep, demanding to be felt. The omega within seemed to mold itself to her presence, wrapping around her with the natural warmth of a long-lost sibling's affection. Its voice, like a lullaby, soothed tenderly in her ears, caressed her senses, evoking a bittersweet nostalgia. It had waited for her for a lifetime, patiently biding, though she felt as if it had always been there; their destinies entwined for eternity. The connection felt familiar as if it had always been an integral part of her existence, hidden deep within her soul, longing to be seen. A joyous reunion with her inner essence, theirs, rather than a discovery of something new about herself. As her eyes fluttered open, the blinding white light of the hospital room assaulted her vision, her first instinct was to cry. Overwhelmed by the pent-up emotions that had been building within her.

Yet another factor played a role — a negative note. The recognition wasn’t exclusive to her; everyone around her, from the very moment she had awoken as an avatar, had sensed, smelled what she was. And this made it obvious why omegas often experienced such a designation as a condemnation.

Alphas’ attentions may be... excessive.

From a human perspective, Na’vi were naturally intrusive. The concept of personal space between the two species was totally at odds; they were prone to be close, to touch each other, to smell each other. A fundamental part of their socialization techniques. Aubree could have learned to tolerate it as a cultural trait if her alpha-designated colleagues didn’t engage in the same behaviors. They couldn’t help themselves.

“It’s the pheromones,” said matter-of-fact Max, not having any other scientific explanation. Studies on the subject were stalled. Without a vomeronasal organ connected to the brain, or terrestrial examples to refer to, they couldn’t describe the phenomenon. The only thing palpable to both of them, equally inexplicable, was that her wake was inviting. Alphas were almost reduced to a primal state around her. “You should talk to the Tsahìk about this,” Aubree mentally berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Who better than the Tsahìk, the spiritual leader of the clan and the highest authority among healers, to provide her with the answers she sought? And maybe even help in dealing with the symptoms.

*

The healers’ tent wasn’t large. Quite the opposite, it was indeed small. The room appeared even tinier with the disorganized heap of things stacked on top of each other in a jumbled mess, creating the feeling it could burst at any time. An imminent threat to be fair. However, under scrutiny, one could discern an order in the distribution of the items. To her right, tools of various types and sizes covered the entire wall. To the left, on shelves arranged by color, were terracotta jars filled with powders and ointments. Some were large, others tiny; some had regular shapes, others were bizarre, tongued, or angular. Engraved on the bottom of each were symbols. An early form of writing, considering the People were still oral.

A little further down, the counter ran around the entire interior of the room to the nearest post of mattresses where sicks could rest. Behind the cupboard was the massiest shelf of all. Ampoules, mirrors, rolls of cloth, baskets of bandages, needles, and flowers stuffed somehow. That place was a unique contradiction, ranging from manic order to disturbing chaos. Despite the dimness and the oppressive atmosphere, the tent also emitted a serene, welcoming feeling, akin to the mystical aura of a shaman’s lair.

But one not was out of place. Post-its here and there written in… English? What were post-its doing in the Tsahìk tent? They were so out of context.

“I see the human touch doesn’t go unnoticed.” Aubree gasped, more at the dull sound of something heavy being moved across the counter than the surprise itself. A woman emerged from the myriad of baskets scattered across the floor, placed one on the wooden shelf, and emptied its contents. Her hair, just above her chin, was straight but messy. The tswin, displayed in front of her chest, obscured the huge needle that hung from her slender neck. At every movement, the beads of the intricate shawl that covered her shoulders and breasts jingled, as lively as a child’s laughter. A streaked cerulean complexion set off lemon-yellow irises fixed upon her like those of a cat.

How old was she? Her face appeared youthful, almost adolescent, yet her eyes betrayed wisdom and worldliness far beyond her years.

“You must be Aubree. I was waiting for you to show up.” It seemed as if the healer’s pupils flickered at the sound of her name. The avatar stepped forward. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Kiri te Suli Kireysi’ite, Tsahìk of the Omatikaya.” Acting on impulse, she extended her hand, but when the young woman didn’t shake it, she hastily corrected the gesture into the typical bow of greeting and reverence. She looked amused.

“No need for formality here. We are the same age and are both researchers. We have more in common than you might think.” A smirk curved her plump lips as she put her fists on her sides. “To what do I owe the glee of your visit? I suppose you need to ask me something.” Her sudden remark made her jolt. The Na’vi woman stopped arranging the shelves and turned to look at her with anticipation. “Well?” “I wouldn’t know where to even start. It’s something I don’t fully understand,” she confessed. “Is it related to your dreamwalker body?” She nodded. “But humans cannot help you.” It wasn’t a question, but the scientist nodded anyway. Kiri drew a smile and disappeared behind a curtain that separated the room from the next one — a laboratory. After several minutes, she reappeared with a small box full of tea filters. “Have one in the morning and another in the evening. It’s a suppressant; it will quell your pheromones.”

Aubree blushed furiously. How…?

“I might be just a beta, but your wake is so strong that it knocked me out for a sec. I dare not imagine the effect you have on alphas.” “Not pleasant.” “Much too pleasant, you mean,” she chuckled. “Be careful not to abuse the drug. You wouldn’t want to find out about the side effects. And remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during estrus.”

Estrus.

The idea hadn’t crossed her mind at all when she accepted her Ph.D. and joined the AVTR Program. She was so thrilled to pursue her dream she would have accepted any job proposal. And who was she to deny she had always felt a fascination about natives? Na’vi estrus cycle was highly articulated and varied by secondary sex designation. Beta females, like humans, had a menstrual cycle and were potentially always fertile, exhibiting no visual, behavioral, or olfactory signals announcing impending ovulation.

Quite a different story for omegas and alphas.

The former went into heat three times a year, about four months between cycles, and could last up to seven agonizing days in the absence of a partner to care for them. This was their peak fertility period. The latter rutted once a year, and the length of the inter-anestrus was unpredictable. In mated pairs wasn’t uncommon for one’s heat to trigger the other’s.

“What should I do when it happens?” “Well, the most natural advice would be to spend it with a playmate, preferably an alpha, as theirs are the only pheromones that have a calming effect on omegas. There is no risk of conception for those who are not mated, so as long as your kuru’s are not entwined, let go.” “Mm, alternatives?” “Lock yourself in a shelter until it ends, away from everyone. But that is the least desirable option. It’s terribly painful to face heat alone.” “I could stay disconnected as long as my avatar is in this state.” “Risking dying of dehydration and starvation in the meantime? Or worse, that some alpha will have fun at your expense?” Kiri hastened to say, noticing the scientist’s horrified expression. “Yes, it has happened, and I assure you that the physical memory of the trauma remains, even if consciousness was not present.” “But I’ll still have to log out myself. My human body needs care, too.” “All the more reason you should find someone to look after you, and quickly. Your first heat is approaching.”

As if that were a small thing.

“My intuition tells me you’ll be fine. Now go. And drink your infusion.” She was about to leave the tent when one last question left Aubree’s lips: “How will I know I’m in heat?” “Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

She was so absorbed in Kiri’s words that she didn’t even notice the hungry glances she was catalyzing. Especially that of a distinguished man wearing a feathered cloak. The young Olo’eyktan followed her figure as she made her way back to the human outpost until she was swallowed up by the thick undergrowth.

“She doesn’t have a mate if that’s what you’re wondering,” a voice to his left exclaimed. As he turned, he came face to face with the Tsahìk, whose penetrating stare revealed a cunning expression that hinted at a deeper understanding. “I don’t see why this indiscretion of yours should interest me.” “Mm, I don’t know. Seems like she caught your interest.” “Hard to ignore with the trail she carries.” A corner of Kiri’s mouth twitched: Neteyam had just been trapped in the net. “She’s not the first omega with such a scent passing under your nose, but you’ve barely noticed the others.” The young man’s back straightened. “What's your point?” “I’m just surprised. That’s all.”

Neteyam’s gaze was again lost in scanning the spot where the avatar had vanished, lost in a thousand thoughts. Unaware of the bright, wide smile that now graced his sister’s beautiful face. The satisfied smirk of one who sees three moves ahead.

*

Upon entering the research division’s canteen, some may have felt as if they stepped into Goldilocks’ fairy tale. Everything in there was big, big or small, small, except for the stove and tables, which were set at an intermediate height so that both avatars and pilots could use them.

Aubree stared at the teapot brewing the concoction Kiri had given her; her nose stung by the pungent yet fresh smell of nettle wafting from the spout. Carefully, she poured the liquid into a cup without straining — Ingest the leaves — and drank it. Immediately, her throat burned and a tremendous itch seemed to want to tear it open.

Shit, even worse than anticipated.

She took a seat on the plush sofa, its velvety fabric enveloping her frame. As she pressed play on the remote, the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow on the dimply lit room. Her eyes followed the vivid images of a movie for distraction, but her mind was eaten up by the searing prickle that intensified with each passing moment. The discomfort became all-consuming, shielding her from the outside world, as if the itchy sensations had woven a barrier around her, isolating the woman in her own thoughts. She was oblivious to her colleague’s presence until he sank into the cushions beside her. His arm hung weakly on the backrest, almost brushing against her shoulder. But it was his sudden loud snort that jolted her back to reality. Aubree jumped as she turned to her right and found Jamie. His left knee wedged into his opposite ankle, his foot dangling in her direction. His head rested an inch from the wall, eyes half-closed in a drowsy state.

“You look tired.”

The guy let out a low, rumbling laugh in his typical mumble before replying that he felt like a bulldozer had run over him. Fatigue weighed heavily on him, evident in the strain it put on his distinct British accent. She surreptitiously watched him, taking in the details of his avatar that closely resembled the human it was created from. His gaze remained the same, although his blue irises had now turned a striking shade of yellow. His lips and teeth mirrored the original, except for the canines. When he smiled full-mouthed, two dimples appeared on his cheeks, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, as if they were smiling, too. His slightly protruding incisors gave his face a boyish charm, contrasting with his strong, masculine features. He radiated a sense of gentleness.

That last remark had the same effect as lightning illuminating the night. They were conversing freely, as they would have if they were humans.

An alpha and an omega.

Aubree had gotten into the habit of avoiding alphas as much as possible when she was in this body; head down, shy look, walk fast. Never within nose reach. But Jamie did not lose his cool in her presence. He didn’t sniff the air greedily. His gaze didn’t become insistent as it passed over her face. He didn’t moisten his lips endlessly or clench his jaw and fists as if to keep himself from jumping on her. Nor did hold his breath and make excuses, running for his life as he was wont to do.

The suppressor was working!

The success of the next days was enough for the unknown estrus to recede into the background, in the darkest and most hidden place in her head. Who could blame her? Her life was finally back to normal. After all, her avatar's first heat couldn't have been so terrible, could it? Just stick to this simple recipe and everything will be fine, repeated as a mantra.

Remember, it is a temporary remedy. Useless on the verge and during the heat.

Time passed, and days turned into weeks. The taste of the medicine became more tolerable as her throat grew accustomed to its piquant flavor. Even if it wasn’t, the end justified the means. Aubree took the doses with obsessive precision, but after a few months, she noticed the effects wearing off, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began.  The first warning came in the form of mild dizziness when she logged in, accompanied by a lingering feeling of fever. Then, her appetite waned, alternating with sudden bouts of hunger. Finally, twinges settled in her iliac fossae. She chalked it as harmless PMS, nothing she hadn’t already experienced. Most importantly, not a cause for alarm regarding her host’s performance or health; the hybrid was fully functional.

Wait a minute. Premenstrual syndrome?

As she walked down the hallway leading to the medical area, her mind wandered back to her last period. Her forefinger swiftly navigated the tablet, selecting the calendar app she used to track her menstrual cycle. She was still a long way from the start of the next one, a full two weeks, right in the middle of her fertility window. Maybe I’m ovulating. The symptoms she had been going through lately aligned with that assumption. Breast sensitivity, a slight increase in discharge, heightened lubrication, and libido.

This would have been enough to reassure her, if not for the steady, soft beeping coming from the hospital room, serving as a haunting reminder. Her stare roamed beyond the glass, taking in the circle of Link Units surrounding a pair of desks in the center, a total of eight. It settled on the last station on the far left. Number 3. Her lucky number. Well, not so lucky, given how things were going. The monitor next to it showed the status of the machine, the vitals of the subject inside, the neural activity of the two interconnected brains. The real-time image of the pilot's unconscious face.

Aubree’s face.

And so she realized the symptoms were none other than the avatar's. Ovulation, PMS, cravings were all alarm bells that the heat was near. But who gave her the coup de grâce was Jamie himself.

The guy was running towards her, calling out and weaving, eager for something he was about to share if he didn’t put the brakes on his run. With his palm up to cover his mouth and nose, he said, “Woah Bree... You stink.” His pupils showed a hint of dilation. “It’s time, isn’t it? The suppressant isn’t working anymore.” “Guess so.” “Um, I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, but...” He scratched nervously at the back of his head, no longer holding her gaze. “... if you ever need help dealing with… that. I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d prefer a friend taking care of me over some random dude. So...” “Thanks, Jamie, for the offer. I know it’s from a genuine interest, and that you’re not trying to take advantage of the situation. I appreciate it, but maybe the Tsahìk can help me out while I’m in the shelter.” “It could last for days.” “I still haven’t come to terms that intercourses are the only way. She's possibly making it sound worse than it actually is.” “Possibly not. Thinking you’ll be locked up somewhere suffering...” "I'll log out for the night," Aubree giggled. “Besides, it would be kinda weird, don’t you think? We work together.” Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “I do science. Stuff like that won't faze me. You better hurry, based on the scent you're giving off, you could be in heat any minute. If you change your mind...” With a last playful wink, Jamie left.

Free to return to her concerns, Aubree’s smile turned into a taut line. She had to find Kiri. Quickly.

*

As she battled the relentless fever, the seemingly endless and overwhelming path to Hometree stretched out before her. Every step was a struggle, her trembling hands clutching onto the rough tree trunks for support. Fatigue weighed heavily upon her, her eyes squinting against the blinding rays of the sun as it dipped below the horizon. The intense heat made her perspire profusely, the dampness seeping through her clothes, clinging to her body like a second skin. She wished she could strip off her garments; the discomfort unbearable. The thought of dying of shame seemed trivial compared to the fire that consumed her from within, leaving her skin burning and blistering. 

Sounds of prolemuris filled the air, their calls echoing through the dense canopy. The heavy, rich, damp bouquet of lush vegetation mingled with the freshness of rain and whiffs of her scent, alerting a hunter nearby to her presence. His senses heightened. With narrowed eyes, he tasted the air, as if savoring a fine wine. The particles rose into his nostrils, painting a vivid image of Aubree in his mind. Her sweet face, adorned with sparkling eyes, and sinuous curves stood out against the dry features of the People. 

As he continued to track her trail, his pupils dilated, his senses enticed by the lingering aroma. Every step he took, he could feel the dampness of the forest floor beneath his feet, the rough texture of the leaves brushing against his fingertips. The air was alive with anticipation, as if holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable. But as quickly as the scent had captivated him, the hunter’s instincts kicked in. He realized that if he could smell her, others could too. The realization sent a shiver down his spine, a reminder of the dangers that lurked in the rainforest. With a determined resolve, he pressed on, his senses alert, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

He left his prey to almost run the distance that separated him from the woman. His omega. The moments it took him to reach her seemed like hours when they were a handful of minutes at most. He found her at the foot of a plant, curled up in a ball, her cheeks stained with tears as she whispered incomprehensible words under her breath. The man staggered, his senses assaulted by the unmistakable pungent smell of her heat stench. A wake so overpowering that left him breathless and struck, unlike anything he had ever smelled before. Teeth gritted and jaw clenched to the breaking point, he bravely advanced towards her, finally falling to his knees. If only he had resisted his natural urges. He could not allow himself to give in. Not him.

With a gentle touch, he cradled her jaw in his palm and soothed her with slow, reassuring strokes along her side, repeating, “It’s alright, it’s alright. You’re safe now. You're not alone; I'm here for you. You’re going to be okay.”  Her cry-streaked face trembled as she whispered, “Please... I can’t take it any longer,” cheeks dampened by an endless stream of tears. “Just take care of it.” He cursed in frustration, powerless that he couldn’t even bring her to his sister. Kiri was assisting a primipara in childbirth. “Please!”  Before taking her in his arms and laying her gently against his chest, the Na’vi sighed, his voice filled with resignation, “Yes, whatever you need.”

Walking backward towards the nearest shelter, he kept his gaze fixed on the path, his piercing eyes fully focused on his surroundings, scanning for any signs of danger. The very direction he had originally come from. Not that anyone could have stood up to him under those circumstances. Regardless of whether he had reached the woman first, no one would have been foolish enough to challenge the clan’s top warrior. 

Groaning, Aubree nuzzled against him, finding solace in the familiar and calming scent that emanated from his skin. Like lowered into a light, peaceful bubble, his soothing alpha pheromones everywhere. An alpha she couldn’t recognize, her vision too blurry, but to whom the omega inside her was singing a serenade. In this foggy confusion, she could only hear the beating of his heart against her ear and the oh-so-big, firm hands holding her up. And though she could not see him, starry eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, looking tenderly at her. 

Her fantasy drifted away, picturing him holding her close, his lips exploring every inch of her body, and their lovemaking leaving her in a state of euphoric surrender. A shiver ran down her spine and made her throbbing quicken at the mere thought of being touched where the tremendous burn concentrated the most. The brush of his lips on her forehead and the tip of her nose made her believe, if only for an instant, that reality had merged with her imagination. His voice lingered in the air, like a gentle gust against her mouth, hinting that they were just moments away from their destination.

Where, she would have inquired, but there wasn’t much room for consistency in her head right now, her perceptions too chaotic to form a coherent question. She would have gone to the ends of the Universe, as long as it meant she could be near him.

Next to her, on her, inside her. Her heart raced with anticipation.

As the hunter laid her down on the mattress and went to fetch water, it was no surprise that her expression crinkled, her eyelids opened slightly, and a low moan eluded her parched lips.

“You need to drink,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern, as he offered out a small bowl. The liquid inside shimmered, reflecting the soft glow of the room. However, she shook her head, causing the contents to spill onto the floor, the sound of the liquid splashing echoing through the silence. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, but it quickly melted away, replaced by a deep-seated worry as he watched her. Her arms opened towards him, inviting him into her embrace. He had never encountered such desperation and helplessness in an omega before. 

Calmly, he laid down beside her, pulling her gently towards him. As he hugged her, she could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. But it wasn’t enough. Aubree craved more, she needed more. And so he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were soft and tender, like a delicate caress. When she bit into them, the taste exploded on her tongue, a blend of sweet honey and warm sunshine. The flavors danced and mingled, delighting her senses. Closing her eyes, she felt a rush of sparks and stars illuminating her mind. His tongue explored her mouth with a gentle touch, mirroring the soothing sensation of his hands as they massaged her tense shoulders.

She felt perfect, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. The soft glow of candlelight danced across their entwined bodies, casting a warm, intimate atmosphere. The warmth of his arms, his faint scent mingled with her own, enveloped her, creating a sweet, comforting haven from the outside world. Yet, an intoxicating sensation filled the air as she nestled against his chest, hearing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. A soothing melody that resonated deep within her. Every touch, every caress, sent waves of bliss coursing through her body. In this moment, she found solace and contentment, knowing that she had found her rightful place - in his loving arms.

She was exactly where she belonged, complete and fulfilled.

When he let go, she was panting, her lungs desperate for oxygen, her heart pounding in her chest. All she could see were his eyes, lost in darkness. Delighting in her exquisite taste, surpassing his wildest dreams, he pressed his lips against her face and kissed her deeply. The overwhelming passion seemed to consume her, suffocating her with its intensity. He gently moved away, giving her a chance to catch her breath, and as he did, he positioned himself on top of her, taking off the thin t-shirt she had on.

As much as he longed to press his skin against the avatar's, the Na’vi couldn’t help but be drawn to her curvaceous physique, a stark contrast to the ruggedness of his own kind. He took his sweet time to admire her; the naked breasts, the rounder hips, he could not resist stroking them with his fingertips. Aubree’s scent brainwashed him, a slave to the instinct to take her where she was, but in the back of his mind, there was still enough clarity to realize that he was truly amazed by the wonder of the woman before him. He liked her. He really liked her. He had liked her from the first moment he had noticed her, her trail so enchanting that it could not be ignored.

Once again, he yearned to taste her, to hold her. He placed his lips upon every reachable inch, leaving his mark with his intoxicating scent. He lavished attention on her face, caressed her eyes, nibbled on her ears, traced her collarbones, and claimed her neck, burying his nose in her skin, his tongue tenderly exploring the hidden depths behind her shoulder. It was a remarkably sensitive spot, causing her to surrender to pleasure, her corneas tilting backward in ecstasy. The surge of pheromones transformed into a primal growl, resonating deep within her core; uncontrollable shivers coursed through her body. He pressed harder against her hips, releasing a second wave that intensified their connection.

Aubree wrapped her limbs around him, squeezing him in a fervent embrace. The sound of their mingling breaths filled the air as their lips met once more, a symphony of desire. Overwhelmed by the sensation of his body against hers, she reveled in the way he effortlessly fit into the curves of her form. Each kiss and caress he bestowed upon her skin brought a cascade of relief that engulfed her senses.

Through the graceful dance of their bodies, she felt the weight of his longing against her. Every movement spoke volumes of his desire to please her, to alleviate her anguish. As his lips explored her skin, a low, guttural moan escaped her throat, resonating with a mixture of gratification and pain. In the air, a spice of raw passion intertwined with a hint of vulnerability. In his touch, she could sense the depth of his caring, his soulful dominance.

She realized how similar they were: two people subjected to their nature.

Equally desperate, her lungs aching, she reached a trembling hand towards his tail, fingers brushing against the coarse texture of the loincloth. The tightly cinched knot resisted her efforts, causing each tug to reverberate with a faint sound of strained fabric. The hunter, his muscles trembling with anticipation, propped himself up slightly, his breaths mingling with hers in the dimly lit room.

Time slowed to a torturous crawl as he painstakingly unraveled the knot, his fingers working with meticulous precision. The sensation of the fiber slipping through his grasp sent shivers down his spine, a mix of alleviation and frustration intertwining in his chest. The weight of the tewng around his ankles became a physical reminder of the barriers they both longed to shed. Almost on the verge of tears, he yearned for liberation from this confining cloth, craving the proximity and warmth they shared. With a swift motion, he freed himself from the bindings, the garment rustling quietly as it fell to the ground. In an instant, he pulled her back into his embrace, his arms blanketing her with a renewed fervor.

As their bodies tangled, a rush of emotions flooded their senses — the scent of their shared desire hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma of sweat. The touch of their skin, now unencumbered, ignited a fire that burned with an intensity they could no longer deny.

The scientist loved every moment; his piercing, smoldering gaze fixated on her, lolling in every tender touch, every flattering word, but she reached her limit, and he could sense it. Suddenly, the biting cold dusk shrouded her exposed form. Her garments were violently ripped away, leaving her vulnerable. The icy sensation lasted only a fraction of a second, though, for that was all the time it took for the stranger to plunge into her doused core. His intricate braids tickled against the satin-like skin of her inner thigh. The balmy breeze of his breath danced upon her as she rolled up her sticky legs around his head. “No need for that,” she giggled, her voice trembling. The sharp edges of his canines teased her, causing a playful tingle to spread across her lips. His smile showing both desire and mischief.

With exasperating slowness, he inhaled in a long sniff, his expounded pupils pulsating as they reopened. He dove in to guzzle the juicy nectar at its source, emitting a hoarse moan with the initial sip. She gasped, feeling the vibration against her quivering lips, as a blissful wave rippled through her soul, intensifying her arousal. Gripping her silky hair, he nestled his face, exploring every crevice, nuzzling her thoroughly. His insatiable tongue and eager lips caressed the velvety walls of her intimate entrance, skillfully teasing the supple skin and delicate clitoris. His left hand, loving and firm, cupped her slender ankle, his touch sending shivers up her bone. Slowly, he trailed his hand up her smooth thigh, his fingertips tracing every contour, igniting a fiery anticipation within her. With a whispered whoop, he sank his index into her swollen, drenched core, the wetness coating his digit. There was no resistance, only an overwhelming urge for more. In sync with her ragged sighs, he added a second finger. The sound of their combined panting saturated the air as her grip tightened around his relentless, plunging fingers.

At this point, Aubree was trembling with need as every fiber within her begged to be fucked. The alpha’s dominant pheromones beguiled her, while his languid, deliberate movements captivated her gaze. His hungry eyes, dark and all-consuming held her spellbound by the way he devoured her. The crushed combination of his present and skill left her subdued, infatuated even. As her back arched in pleasure, a primordial scream tore through her open windpipe. Excitement was so intense, a fiery mixture of ecstasy and release so gratifying and flawless,  that her omega felt a devastating love than just heat. In that instant, he hit her G-spot with caustic precision one final time, causing her to pour forth in a torrential climax. A violent, passionate eruption met by the man’s eager mouth, which drank her essence like a thirsty beast.

However, something unexpected happened as the orgasm subsided. Aubree burst into tears.

Copious tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks; wet, hot streaks that burned almost as scorching as the new, unbearable fire festering in her belly. Sobs rang through the shelter as he called her back, holding her tightly in his protective embrace, now curled against his chest seeking consolation. “Shushu... ‘Upe kemwiä? (What is it?).” He murmured, his lips resting on her temples as he futilely wiped away her tear-strained cheekbones. “It doesn’t go away, it doesn’t go away.” She cried, her nails scratching his chest, desperately trying to hold on to something. Her nose rubbed against his rib cage, then his jaw to impregnate him with her perfume, his heart pounding wildly.

In a frenzy of kisses and bites and touches, he let her vent, his digits grazing along her spine, confused by the speed with which the urge had reassembled in her. The Na’vi was confused by the speed with which the itch had reassembled within her. Normally it would take a few hours after such a powerful first orgasm. Time to rest, eat, drink. Aubree badly needed hydration to combat the incessant fever that plagued her and the fluids she was losing.

“Take a moment to rest. You need to drink.” “Screw the water, I want you,” she confessed, her misty eyes fixated on him. They shimmered with unstoppable tears and thirst. Her face flushed with a violent purple. It was the most powerful heat the man had ever witnessed, and he wondered what had triggered it. That it was her first heat? Had the suppressors made her high? It was because of him? The alpha in him reprimanded him with the natural mildness of primal appetites. Just take her, she’s pleading for it. But he shook his head. It wasn’t him. He was better than that. He had been raised to care for others, not to use them. Alphas protect, that was what gave them purpose; he would do anything to protect his mate, even from herself.

Even though she wasn’t technically his mate.

Despite not being bonded in the traditional sense, their connection was undeniable. Aubree, unbeknownst to her, held a special place in his heart from the very moment they met. It was clear from the start that this outcome was unavoidable. Calling upon anything that could keep him sane, he held some sort of energy drink under her nose. “Näk (drink).” The omega sounded at this command. It was as if by speaking in his native language, he was able to assert himself a thousand times more forcefully, even if she didn't get his words. The omega knew for both of them. “Can you do this for me? Drink this and I'll give you everything you want.” She had never heard anything more beautiful. She swelled the entire contents in one gulp, her head dizzy from the sudden amount of sugar. She fell back between the pillows with a quickening pulse, even if he was stroking her hair comfortably. The fall brought a fresh whiff of her needy wake, filling the entire hut as well as his nostrils. Instinctively, the hunter took a deep breath. A breath, that stopped halfway as his brain registered the source of the trail between the woman’s legs. A shimmering fountain that caused him to let out a guttural roar of defeat. He was so weak to her.

As he settled between her groin, the tip of his erection brushed against the warrior’s waistband, still clinging to his torso. The only garment Aubree had allowed him to keep.  The sight of him, breathtakingly elegant and athletic, thanks to Eywa’s mercy, overshadowed the idea of how many other omegas had the privilege of having him inside them before her. But now he was all hers. That thought alone ignited a fresh wave of excitement to blossom. He pressed his full weight onto her, and she wasted no time running her hands over his taut, strong, muscular back. Every contour, every sinew, was exquisitely formed and enticing under her touch. The closeness they shared, their bodies pressed against each other, sent a thrill through her. He smelled so damn good, hard and bothered for her. The way he responded to her advances only heightened her desire, flaring up a foreign heat in her veins, surpassing even her own natural instincts.

His shaft, long and thick, glided inside her, stealing her a gasp as he filled her in one fluid motion. Pleasure trembled through her, evident in her labored breathing and tightened walls. The barriers of her depths easily acclimated to his divine cock, satisfying even her smallest wishes. It was almost embarrassing to realize how every aspect of him was designed to please her — the texture of his body, the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, the sound of his voice, his tantalizing scent.

She couldn’t help it and was somehow ashamed of her weakness. Her intimacy clenched at some point, in response to the blows he gave her, the few but deep sounds he made. So securely he gasped at the faint pain before rushing to her mouth in a ferocious kiss. Demanding, needy. He bit and pulled at her lip, pushing his tongue to lick the arch of hers, to suck her teeth, making her vibrate around him.  Had she mentioned that his lips were amazing? Yes, she had, but who cared? She would have repeated over and over again how unworldly they melded with hers in such a sublime way that they would have stunned her if she weren’t for the crazy pheromones already. Aubree didn’t even know who this man was. Her senses tangled, preventing her from recognizing his face or voice, despite a nagging suspicion of familiarity. Her mind sporadically focused before touch or smell overpowered it. Now taste. His lips felt like fresh fruit, sweet and full-bodied. She would have spent hours luxuriating in them, but the impression she was about to burst grew and grew, driving and unbearable.

She moaned uncontrollably as the Na’vi drew back his hips until only the tip rested against her core to thrust again before effortlessly thrusting again. Each new point of contact stung inside her. The avatar felt an insatiable desire to take all of him, to never let go. Her heart filled with euphoria — little bites, caresses, kisses ran through her body, which now smelled like his. She tugged at his hair as he made his way back to her mouth, her wet thighs encircling his waist, her heels nestled in the dimples of Venus. Clinging to him as if the contact of his epidermis, his chest, his arms weren’t enough. She craved more. Their hearts pounded in unison, like furious galloping horses, their passion untamed. “Tsahey, sı`ltsan’efu (oh hell, feels good),” he grunted, his timbre low and gravelly. Kind of a dirty move whispering praise in Na’vi into her ear. His words danced to the tips of her toes from the dull joy it gave her to feel appreciated, as the sound of their frames colliding echoed in the hut, a symphony of lust and devotion. Her cries grew shrill, a melodic chorus that fueled his every thrust. He was so hot, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, as he moved faster, the friction intensified, sending sparks shooting through all of her body. Aubree clasped her legs around his waist, hankering for everything he offered. His grip on her shoulders steadied, his fingers digging into her skin. The force of his thrusts increased, each one hitting her with a mix of pleasure and pain. Her nails dragged along his back, leaving red trails in their wake.

The man rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingled; his lukewarm exhales covering her face and his ears full with her gasps. The smell of their passion hung heavy in the small space, a heady mixture of steam and need. He watched her in both ecstasy and disbelief. The sight of such intensity in his gaze overpowered her, but she clung to it, relishing every moment when his dick struck a sensitive bundle of nerves.

As she felt his knot dwell, alpha pheromones crept into her subconscious, drowning her omega in the musky aroma of dominance and submission, an exhilarating fog that pushed her further into surrender. The place seemed to darken as her soul naturally responded to him; her pulse hastening with trepidation. Each frantic gasps for oxygen a struggle against the sweeping emotions. She had no choice but to capitulate, to cry out for him. It felt as if her very DNA had been written to covet him, to lock him inside, but the native held her back, prolonging the exquisite torture.

“That’s not a good idea. It’s your first time.”

A new growl escaped her windpipe, vibrating hungry rage. A rumble that allowed no response, a warning that made him bend his ears back and sink to the point of no return. His stare fixed on her with a longing that knew no bounds. Now only orgasm could free him from her clutches. His expression seemed pained, a flicker of hesitation, but it lasted only a second before the most animalistic and savage sounds she had ever heard rose from the back of his throat. The researcher bit his neck to stifle a moan louder than the others, desperate to repress the burden that threatened to consume him. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop for concern of hurting her. He gasped, his grip on her hips toughening as he plunged more fervently, the rhythmic slapping of their bodies reverberating through the room.

“Don’t ever come out. Stay in forever,” she stammered in confused, fading whimpers. His reaction was harsh, his hips digging with such force that the knot scraped hard against her walls, inducing her to writhe in ecstasy. “Nga tsun ke pawm fula tsonta oe… Nga zir fìtxan tsìltsan (You can’t just ask me that… You feel so amazing).” His voice strained with lust. In response, the woman gyrated her hips even deeper against him, moaning with abandon until he filled her completely. His burning seed spread inside her, as he released a final wave of pheromones that triggered an orgasm so powerful it knocked her unconscious — her frame succumbing to the overwhelming fulfillment that exhausted her. “Are you okay?” He kissed her temple, but she could barely nod, still breathless. “Good.”

Amid that swirling sea of dizzying, carnal lechery, the Na’vi caught a whiff of her enticing trail, drawing him in like a magnetic force. He twisted her neck gently, planting kisses and licks behind her ear, where it released all sorts of fragrances that blended with the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Aubree shivered, her skin tingling as he grazed his teeth over her sensitive flesh. The aroma of her essence intensified here, so potent it could dance on his tongue, so tantalizing to explore further.

As he indulged in a small taste, her partner’s presence surged within her; his dick twitched, and automatically her inner walls throb around him. Just as her apprehension grew, fearing his bite, his lips found her ear where he murmured: “Don’t be afraid. I won’t mark you until you ask me to.”

Suddenly, a clarity washed over her, as if the dense intoxication of hormones had dissolved, leaving her lucid in its wake. The researcher pushed her lover away, panic coursing. Her narrowed eyes hinted at a revelation, now that she could finally name the alpha who had guided her in her very first heat, still mating with her with a satisfied and dangerous grin.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan. Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy. Aubree fought not to close them, but with each blink it became harder and harder to keep them open. She felt his fingertips brush the hair from her face, then caress one cheek as he lowered himself to place a light kiss on her forehead.“Hahaw, ma’uniltı`ranyu. Nga kin ne tsurokx. Tätxaw ngeyä tawtutetokx. Oe veaywng nga kay sìn. (Sleep, my dreamwalker. You need to rest. Return to your human body. I’ll take care of you from now on).”

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

@neteyamssyulang @layla2-49

[xoxotaylynn]

gangster kind of lover

warnings: dom!chris, sub!reader, drugdealer!chris, druguser!reader, y/n, abusive!chris, oral sex, unprotected sex, let names

summary- a look into y/n's and Chris's relationship and how his actions affect her life and her drug addiction

i need a gansta to love me better

since i was a little girl i’ve always wanted a disney prince boy, as i got older i learned those boys will only fuck you over and gangsters will love you better.

to always forgive me

a gangster boyfriend will always forgive you with some sex.

ride or die with me

a gangster boyfriend would kill for you.

that’s just what gangsters do after all

i’m fucked up, i’m black and blue

i’m getting ready to go out clubbing with a few girlfriends i’m applying some make up on my bruises that my boyfriend? left i don’t know what we are. i want to be his girlfriend but he “doesn’t commit” little does he know i’m built for it, all the abuse

i’ve got secrets that nobody knows

“omg girl what’s on you’re leg that’s a nasty bruise!!” my friend halle says worried

“oh nothing i just ran into a table REALLY hard and hurt myself it’s fine tho!” i lie i tried to cover that up but my lower body ones are harder to cover.

i’m good on that pussy shit

“nah give me the hard stuff weed is for pussys bitch” i laugh as my hookup is making a line for me currently

i don’t want what i can get

“hey girl you look good tonight” this random dude flirts

“yea no thanks i’m alright” i laugh

“girl you need to get out there stop rejecting guys and live a little

“trust me girl i’m getting out there and living a lot!!” i laugh

“i’ll believe it when i see it!” she laughs

“okay girlll”

i want someone with secrets

“we gotta hurry up my friends don’t know we’re together” my hookup says while sucking in my neck

“do they also know that you sell drugs?” i breathe out

“someone’s got an attitude tonight but no they don’t and they won’t find out” he demands the last part

“are you tryna seduce me even more?” i laugh “next thing i know you’re gonna tell me to call you daddy” i’m PANTING at this point

my freakness is on the loose

we kissing as we walk into his bedroom and he shuts to door with his foot as he leads me to bed, he lays me on the bed and he doesn’t waste any time he strips me if my clothes

“hurry up and fuck me chris” i complain as i throw my head back

“be patient or you won’t cum” he taunts

“yes sir” i smirk

he grabs my jaw and makes me look at him “ill fuck this little attitude right out of you don’t even”

“fine next time i’ll call you daddy” i bite my lower lip and smile

“keep the fucking attitude up and we won’t fuck” he warns

“fine” i huff and he starts kissing down my stomach and to my uncovered pussy.

he starts to pepe’s kisses all over my sensitive cunt and i start to moan already “of fuck chris please give me more”

“patient sweetheart” he says sending vibrations up my pussy. he starts to eat me out and i’m a moaning mess the second he starts i know this is gonna go to his ego

“oh mother fucker don’t stop” i moan he adds three fingers no warning and i’m not going to last much longer now “please chris i’m gonna cum!!!” i whine

“whenever you’re ready baby” he says in my cunt but just like that i’m LEAKING with my juices all over his face “mmm taste so good for me” he says as he finishes swallowing

“just fuck me chris please” i beg

“well sense you said please” he teases and takes his pants off

“no condom i’m on the pill i just want you to cum inside of me” i ask

“just this once” he tells me as he grabs my hips, he then slides me over to him and he aligns his dick up to my wet sensitive cunt

he goes in and with no time to adjust he rams into me.

“OH FUCK!” i yell the second he starts fucking me

he’s ramming into me with no cares making me yell his name out, and i hear slight moans from him, i feel my pussy walls tighten around his dick and it’s twitches inside me

“oh fuck chris i’m so close” i moan

“me to baby cum with me” he basically moans

and then on cue we both cum together with our juices mixing inside me. he lets his cock sit inside me for a minute while we catch our breath.

“oh fuck you did so good today angel” he compliments laying beside me now

“thank you! you did good to i don’t think i can walk anymore” i laugh

“good you don’t need to be walking anyways who are you tryna go see with those legs anyways” he always does this

“no one just you but now i can’t get to you” i respond making him mad

“well you won’t be leaving then” he gets up

“wait what that’s not fair i have a life besides fucking you” i argue

“well to fucking bad” he yells

“no! you can’t keep me here” i yell back

“FUCKING WATCH ME” he screams and yanks me off the bed, he throws me onto the floor and then slaps my face leaving a bright red hand mark

“OW WHAT THE FUCK CHRIS” i yell still on the floor holding my cheek

“STOP BEING A FUCKING SLUT AND LISTEN TO ME AND I WOULDNT FUCKING DO THAT” he yells

“get the FUCK away from me” i grab my clothes hurriedly put them on and run out of his house “whatever we have is DONE” i yell outside

you got me hooked up on a feeling

“fuck i have NOTHING” i scold myself. i try to call my new dealer but he won’t answer “fuck it we’re calling chris

“chris can you get my my usual i’m out.” i say over the phone

“i was waiting for this call you know you love my cock to much” he laughs

“go to hell you know that’s not true you’re not even that big i’ve seen bigger and better dicks” i attack him

“ouch that’s not what you said in bed” he argues

“chris just get over here and get me my shit i’ll have money” he deamand

“if you wanna see me so bad just ask but sure i’ll be right over” he grunts

“great” i hang up

5 minutes later he’s knocking at my door

“hi chris come in” i say coldly

“hi ma” he flirts

“chris is told you i’m done with you” i tell him

“then why am i here” he asks

“for DRUGS” i empathize the last word

“you know we’re gonna end up fucking” he says factually

“whatever you have my shit” i ask

“right here” he pulls a baggy out of his jacket pocket

“here’s some money” i say grabbing it off my coffee table in the living room

“no thanks ill give this one to ya” he declines my money

“oh my fucking god just come here” i say annoyed cause he only does this when he wants to fuck and i’ve learned to just suck it up cause he won’t take the money

“that’s a good girl” he praises and i connect our lips and we start making out.

you got me hooked up from the ceiling

“chris come over i’m hornyyyy” i whine over the phone

“i’ll be right there” he groans and i can here him pick up his car keys this makes me smirk

“see you soon” i moan into the phone knowing that will make him hard

“goodbye ma” he hangs up the phone

got me so high, i’m barely breathing

“are you feeling it” chris asks

“hell yea i think i can hold my breath for ever i like don’t end have to breathe right now” i say laughing

“baby breathe please” he softens his tone

“yea okay i will” i say taking a deep breath

i need a gansta to love me better

chris will always love me better than little disney prince boy, my gangster boyfriend will do what we it takes to make sure i’m his no matter what.

[karniquefreak]

Homelander bombarding Hughie with thousands of voice messages, having a meltdown because his boy is not picking up. Meanwhile, Hughie just innocently fell asleep on the couch or something not aware of the shitstorm he’s inadvertently caused.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. This number is not available. At the tone, please record your message."

[05:19 pm] Are you fucking serious?

[05:20 pm] Very funny. Hughie, why aren’t you answering my calls? Is this some kind of joke? Pick up your phone.

[05:21 pm] Hughie. Babe. What the fuck is this? Why are you ignoring me?

[05:22 pm] Where the hell are you? Why aren’t you picking up? You’re kind of pissing me off. You have to know you can’t just fucking go offline on me like this. It’s incredibly rude. Am I going to have to punish you later?

[05:34 pm] I’m trying my damnedest to be patient, but you’re really testing me here, sweetheart. Pick up your phone. Now.

[05:36 pm] You don’t seem to understand how this works. When I call you pick up. You don’t make me chase after you like some limp-dick schmo. Did you forget who I am?

[05:40 pm] We’re really doing this, huh? So what, you don’t want to be with me anymore, is that it? And instead of having the common decency to face me like a man you just ghost me. Of course. Jesus fuck, that's classic you, isn't it? Son of a bitch— [audio cuts off]

[05:42 pm] I’ll rip out your spine and laser your dick off andthrowyourbodyinto— [audio cuts off]

[05:45 pm] Hey. It’s me again. Hughie, I know what I said wasn’t...nice. I know, I know. Yikes! I'm just going to start over. I’m sorry. Look just—just pick up, alright? I miss you.

[05:47 pm] FUCK YOU! You miserable insect! I always knew you didn’t take us seriously, you two-faced shithead. I hate you, truthfully you were nothing to me, you know that? Just another nobody to get off with, you never meant a thing to me! You weren’t even a good lay, I could have gotten better dick-sucking from Deep for half the trouble!

[05:51 pm] Ugly sobbing noises 

[05:55 pm] Hughie, you know I love you, right? It's ok babe, I forgive you! I'm not angry, I promise. Just come over, we can have dinner and talk. It doesn’t have to end like this. I’ve calmed down now, alright? It's fine. We're good. Honest.

[05:57 pm] Are you having an affair? Is that what this is? So who the fuck is she then? Are you with Starbitch? Bet she's laughing at me while you're fingerblasting her, she must be getting off to this. But let me make this perfectly clear, you don’t fucking cheat on me. I’m The. Fucking. Homelander. Does your tiny brain even comprehend that? I am the most superior being on this earth. You should be honoured— [audio cuts off]

[06:00 pm] I’m sorry, Hughie. I may have overreacted a smidge. I'll admit that I jumped to conclusions. Yeah, fine. You win this round. Happy? Now pick up the phone.

[06:04 pm] distorted sounds of inhumane screaming, furniture getting smashed, walls collapsing, palms are sweaty knees weak, arms are heavy, there's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti

[06:06 pm] S-sir is everything ok? We heard— GET THE FUCK OUT ASHLEY, I’M BUSY! sounds of glass shattering Bunch of braindead fucks.

[06:07 pm] You better be dead, Hughie, because nothing excuses this kind of bullshit behaviour. Not from you, you hear me? I don’t give a fuck anymore, in fact I never did! Truth hurts, doesn’t it? I admit you were amusing, good for a laugh or two, but it's gotten boring. I need more and you're clearly not delivering.

[06:08 pm] I know I said you playing hard to get is a turn on, but this is ridiculous…

[06:09 pm] Hey asshole, I deleted all of your nudes. You can keep mine because I genuinely feel sorry for you, seeing as it's the best you'll ever get. I should charge you a pretty penny every time you jerk your sad little cock to me.

[06:10 pm] Ok you got me. I didn’t actually delete them, but I’m going to if you don’t PICK UP YOUR MOTHERFUCKING PHONE! HUGIE!

[06:19 pm] Fuck why do I keep— I’m sorry babe, you know how I get. You know I didn’t really mean any of it, right? I just forgot myself for a second, you know me. That’s what I love about you though, you understand me like no one. I need you Hughie, it's true. Please answer me.

[06:21 pm] What is it this time, huh? Did I hurt your fee-fee's, you big fucking baby? Did I make you cry? Aw boo fucking hoo! Why don’t you grow a pair already! I’ve given you everything and this is the thanks I get?! I’m a fucking catch! I was voted Sexiest Supe Alive for seven consecutive years! I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you, Campbell! You’re lucky to breathe the same air as me!

[06:24 pm] Is this because I accidentally sprained your wrist that one time? You’re still mad about that? I offered you head and you said no! That’s on you for not accepting my apology, it wasn’t even my fault so quit your moping, it's not fucking cute. Always such a goddamn drama queen. Jesus Christ, get over it, Hughie. Fuck's sake.

[06:27 pm] You said you loved me, you lying whore! I believed you! You know how much I fucking hate liars! YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET THIS CAMPBELL. I'M COMING FOR YOU!

[06:40 pm] Hughie, I’m here. Open the fucking door. I’m not going to break it down because you bitched me out like a little pussy the last time. C’mon, I’m being nice here, it’s more than you deserve. 

[06:41 pm] Hughie enough. I’m not going to repeat myself.

[06:42 pm] ALRIGHT THAT'S FUCKING IT. YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE, CAMPBELL!

Hughie this whole time: 

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Let’s get it on

Pairing: Lucien Flores x afab!reader x Frankie Morales

Words count: 12779 💀 (I humbly apologize, please don’t hate me)

Rating: +18, absolutely NSFW, please if you’re a minor don’t interact.

Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears a skirt, has breast and vagina, other than that no other description is given and I made sure she doesn’t blush, she has hair but it is not described what it is like and no one runs their hand through it, unprotected p in v (it's fiction, no one gets pregnant or gets infections in this world, please use protection in real life), unprotected anal, oral (everyone receiving it LOL), spit roast, a little bit of choking (very lightly), spanking, manhandling, rough sex, masturbation, dirty talk, use of “daddy” once, mention of anxiety, mention of cheating, brief Santiago appearance, angst, fluff, Lucien, reader and Frankie are bi af ❤️, pet names (baby, kitten, good boy, princess), soft!dom Frankie, sub!Lucien, everyone is horny af, reader is basically a menace along with the guys, alcohol consumption, cum eating, cream pie, a lot of nipple play just because I love it (don’t look at me like that, boobs are gorgeous ❤️), Frankie is PEK but also a boobs man in this because I said so, frottage, pussy pronouns, balls sucking, Lucien's chain (only one, sorry) makes a series of glorious appearances *wink*…listen, I don't know what other kind of smutty things I wrote anymore, If I notice something is missing I will add it right away.

This was written for @baronessvonglitter’s Fuck-tober challenge , thank you so much for the opportunity and happy birthday again 🩷 She assigned me Lucien and the song Let's get it on by Marvin Gaye, I had a blast! And it drained me, but that was only my fault because I couldn't stop writing LOL Sorry if I've been more of a pain in the ass with this, I promise I'm done. It’s the very first challenge I’ve participated and it’s also my very first Lucien fic, I’m so nervous about it💀

As usual, English is not my first language so please be patient with me, no beta and no proofreading, I reread it a couple of times today too and I hope there are no mistakes, please forgive me if you find any.

I really hope you’ll like it!

Lucien: hey baby, long time no see, how you doing?

You: I was alright before this text came

Lucien: I know you miss me and you know that too.

You: Not even a little bit.

Lucien: baby… I’m sorry. Can we meet? Please?

You: and why on earth should I do this?

Lucien: I just want to give you back something that you left at my place.

You: fuck, okay, just one time, in a public place and don’t you dare to have expectations.

Lucien: come on, deep down you still love me.

You: sure, so deep down that I can't find it

Lucien: cruel woman. Shall we meet at the usual bar at 9?

You: I’m not the one who cheated, asshole. Fuck, ok. See you there.

You put down your phone letting out a sigh, cursing yourself for accepting to see him.

Lucien. Your ex. The unreliable man that broke your heart.

——————————

You entered the bar looking for him, scanning the place and seeing few people at the tables drinking and chatting.

He was sitting at the bar counter, rolling a bottle of beer between his fingers, staring intently ahead.

The bartender was with his back to him loading a dishwasher.

You watched him from a distance, he hadn’t changed much since the last time you saw him.

He was wearing one of his colorful shirts that he wore all the time, even when you went to your mom’s for lunch on Sundays and she obviously never failed to point it out to you “Can't he just wear a normal shirt for once?”.

You didn’t know what to do about it, Lucien has always been a stubborn guy and anyway, despite what your mother said, they suited him well.

Light wash jeans hugged his legs, his hair was a little longer but as messy as you'd always seen it, and a short beard covered his cheeks and jawline leaving some patches.

You had always liked his aquiline nose, the way you felt it press against your cheek as you kissed, and even more the way it rubbed against your clit as Lucien moved down between your thighs.

You shook your head.

“This is only going to bring me trouble” you thought as you approached “well, fuck, maybe I’ll even get a decent apology” you rolled your eyes as a whiff of his perfume reached you, a perfume that you had given him before he left you and that had caused you to have one of the worst fight in history that lead into a very painful break up. It was persistent, woody, with a very fresh citrus note, quite unmistakable.

You still remember the day you entered your friend’s house and you distinctly smelled that perfume in her living room. That day you had discovered that Lucien had been cheating on you. And to add insult to injury, as soon as he had heard you enter he had hidden behind a cabinet in the kitchen like a complete idiot. It took you 30 seconds to find him. You were already suspicious seeing your friend’s messed up hair and smeared lipstick, you had asked her if she was with someone and she had replied that no, absolutely not, she was taking a nap. But you knew her well, she had never taken naps, especially in the afternoon, she was a hyperactive person who needed to keep herself busy all the time. Apparently she had found a way to do it by fucking your boyfriend.

“Hey” you nodded at him, without trying too hard. Seeing his face again was already enough to bear with.

He turned and greeted you with a smile “Hey babe” UGH. You couldn’t stand that casual innocent smile on his face.

“Lucien, if you call me babe one more time I swear I'm leaving”

He pouted, putting those puppy eyes on you that you once liked so much and now only made you angry.

“Okay, I’m going to behave, I promise. Would you just…sit down?”

You huffed “okay, just for a moment”

This bar was another place you never went back to after you broke up, you often came there together after work to have a beer and meet friends.

It was a nice bar, actually, but you had given up and now you were meeting your friends on the other side of town.

The counter was made of dark wood, as were the stools, and some industrial-design lamps hung over it, enveloping the place in a relaxed and soft atmosphere.

Frankie, the owner, was former US special forces pilot, as soon as he turned around and saw you he greeted you like an old friend “Hey beautiful, how are you?”

“I’m good Frankie, thanks, can I have a beer?”

“Blanche on tap as always?” He still remembered your usual order, which put you in a good mood despite the presence of that asshole of your ex.

“That would be wonderful, thanks” You looked at him with eyes full of gratitude.

Frankie must have understood the reason why you hadn’t come anymore and he must also have understood how little you wanted to be there at that moment.

Lucien was silent and watched you interact, you could feel his gaze still on you.

Frankie moved to pour your beer and you resigned yourself to turning to him.

“So, let me get this straight, what the hell do you want exactly?” you asked him with a serious look.

“I wanted to give you that” he replied by putting a hand in his pocket and taking out a ring you were hoping to see again.

“Oh good, finally you did something right” It was a ring that your grandmother had given you and that you cared about a lot because it was one of the few memories you had left of her. This was the measure of how little you wanted to see Lucien again, you had even given up on it.

Deep down you knew, or at least you hoped, that Lucien wouldn't get rid of it.

If he had pulled another nasty thing to you could have redone the side of his car with a key or something. He would have deserved it and wouldn't even have had right to complain.

What bothered you the most about the whole thing was that he had done everything behind your back, if he had spoken honestly to you and told you that he wanted an open relationship or if he had confessed that he wanted to leave you you would have accepted it more easily.

“I was sure you would be happy to have it back” he smiled

You had looked at him askance and replied “well then you could have done it sooner”

“I thought it was better to let some time pass” he had shrugged at which you had sighed because he wasn’t entirely wrong but you had replied peeved anyway “Six months?!”

Lucien didn't know what to say, he just stammered "s-sorry" and looked down at his legs stretched out on the stool.

You growled and rolled your eyes again, he was impossible. “I don’t think I can expect much from you though so it’s okay”

Frankie put the beer down in front of you and smiled sweetly, “here you go, I missed you by the way”

“I missed you and this place a lot too” and took a long drink, feeling the beer slide cool on your tongue.

You could see Lucien out of the corner of your eye and he was smiling, he always told you that you drink beer like no other girl which he thought was a compliment… a really poor one actually, but for some reason you liked him saying that. You were probably blinded by love, because you were really in love with him once and there was no denying that having sex with him was amazing, he always knew how to push the right buttons and make you feel incredibly sexy in his arms. Not to mention the fact that he made you squirt and that had never happened to you before.

His kisses, the way he touched you, how he knew how to use his hands on you, his amazing cock, the scent of his skin, everything about him drove you crazy.

As much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. Just for the bed part.

“What’s that pretty little head of yours thinking?” Lucien ventured, giving you a crooked smile.

You stared at the bubbles of your beer rise up the rim of the glass and get lost in the foam.

“What a shitty boyfriend you were, if you really want to know”

And how wet you made me, but you would never have told him that.

Lucien took a sip of his beer, shifted on his stool and replied, “I know. I’m sorry.”

You hummed contentedly as you took some peanuts from the small bowl Frankie had placed in front of you along with your beer. It wasn’t such a bad thing to hear him admit his flaws after all, better late than never.

“I know I was terrible to you and I don't know how you put up with me for so long,” his voice sounded strangely sincere, as if he had actually thought about what he had done wrong.

“Well, that's not bad to hear. Thank you very much” you granted him a smile, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Lucien's eyes lit up "it's nice to see you smile, finally"

You were losing it, just a little. “No no no. I won’t fall into this again.” You thought, “I won’t let it happen.”

“We’re not okay, though” you added “don't get any strange ideas”

“Of course” he smirked “Are you dating someone?”

“Actually yes,” you replied right away “a good guy.”

“Oh. And what’s his name?”

“Simon”

He chuckled, shaking his head

“What?!” you asked him, widening your eyes, “what are you laughing so much about?”

It was unbelievable how Lucien could go from melting your heart to irritating you in a matter of seconds.

“You can't be okay with someone named Simon”

“Why not?!” You frowned, looking at him, waiting for the most stupid answer ever

“Because it sounds like an accountant's name. Or that little Chipmunk guy's name. I can't believe you're happy with him”

“I am.” you replied, offended, “he’s very good. And anyway it’s none of your business”

Simon was simply the first name that came to your mind, there was no boyfriend, you just wanted to keep him from knowing you were still alone.

“So tell me,” Lucien asked, coming closer to your ear, “does he make you come like I did? I remember how you moaned while I fucked you”

You felt a jolt down your spine as his words kept reverberating in your ear and inside your brain and then you hurried to answer “Of course he does”

Lucien’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile “I don’t believe you”

Best fuck of your life but still an asshole.

“You cheated, Lucien, so you lost every chance you get over me, shut the fuck up already” you snapped, almost on the verge of tears.

You held back with all your strength to not give him the satisfaction.

Frankie turned to you immediately “Hey, it’s all good? Should I kick his ass out?” He asked looking grimly at Lucien.

“Thank you Frankie, there’s no need, I’m going home”

You took your wallet out of your bag to pay but Frankie waved his hand in the air “no way, it's on the house”

“Well, thank you then. I hope to see you soon, without this asshole around” you squinted at Lucien who seemed finally mortified.

Being with him was like riding a roller coaster, it was fun and breathtaking and then in an instant there would be a downhill slope and everything would go to hell.

You rushed out after saying hello to Frankie again and completely ignoring your ex.

Lucien followed you after leaving some money on the counter under Frankie’s stern gaze.

He grabbed your wrist and you glared at him “I know, okay, I’m an asshole, I didn't want to make you suffer! I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I’m sorry about everything”

“Well you could have not acted like an idiot in the first place. We’re done, Lucien, let go off my wrist” you didn't even raise your voice, you used a coldness that surprised you.

You turned and walked away without even listening to him anymore.

You were tired, so damn tired. You just needed to go home.

_____________________

It had been a horrible day at work, your boss had loaded you with deadlines and you had left the office after 2 hours of overtime with your head exploding. On your way home you thought that after a day like that you really deserved a beer and without thinking twice, instead of going home, you headed to Frankie's bar.

It was Friday night, after all.

You entered the bar, pushing your way through the crowd to reach the counter. The place was full and Frankie was busy.

As soon as he saw you, his eyes lit up under the cap he never took off and he smiled at you “It’s so nice to see you again!”

You smiled back thinking how stupid you were tm so never have noticed how cute Frankie was before.

He placed a beer and a small bowl of peanuts in front of you without you having to ask.

“Frankie, you’re my savior” you told him, noticing his beautiful brown eyes, his strong nose just like you loved in a man, his lips and jawline made to be kissed.

He was gorgeous.

“Don’t mention it, knowing what others want is my job after all” his mouth curved into a soft smile and you felt something, like a little fire that was ignited inside you.

You sat there exchanging jokes with him between one cocktail and another that he prepared.

He was funny and kind and you loved spending time with him.

When the place had started to empty a little, it was already 1am, Frankie had poured himself some whiskey and leaned against the bar counter in front of you.

He looked tired too.

“The bar is really doing well, isn't it?” you said “you should hire someone to help you”

He smiled “Santiago took a share, he'll help me from next week. You remember him, right?”

You nodded. You had met Santi one evening when you were there with your friends. He was a nice guy, a former special forces agent just like Frankie.

“Great!”

“Listen…” Frankie hesitated for a moment “I don’t want to sound cheeky but… would you like to go out sometime?”

You looked at him, saw his hopeful look, and agreed. He was too handsome to say no.

You both smiled and you ended up helping him set up the bar while the jukebox played old rock songs.

You felt at ease with Frankie, the horrible day you had just had no longer mattered.

When the last chair had been turned upside down on the tables and the floor had been cleaned, you went out into the back alley to throw out the garbage.

“What do you say about Monday? It's my day off,” Frankie suggested.

“I think it’s perfect”

Frankie’s gaze lingered on you, making you hot and bothered.

You had moved closer to him, just an inch from his face and you had placed a hand on his broad chest, letting it slide slowly over his shirt “I don't want to seem cheeky but… could I kiss you?” you asked him raising your chin and watching him through your lashes.

Frankie chuckled “Hey. You're good, miss. Sure you can.”

As soon as you put your lips on his you felt it, a rush of adrenaline that went through your entire body. That dark alley wasn't exactly the most romantic place in the world but when you kissed him it seemed special. Frankie returned your kiss on the lips a couple of times, as if he was respectfully trying to understand how far he could go.

You pulled him by his shirt to bring him closer to you and deepened the kiss.

Your tongue caressed his lips and he didn't have to be asked twice, he let you in immediately and wrapped his arms around your waist.

Frankie was different from Lucien's, your ex was greedy and impatient, it almost seemed like he was in a hurry while kissing you.

Frankie took his time, tasted you like a ripe fruit, licked inside your mouth expertly, knew exactly what dance he wanted to involve your tongue in, tenderly nibbled your lower lip.

You felt your knees buckle, as his hands slowly moved towards your ass, you placed yours on his to invite him, to give him silent consent, and you moaned into his mouth when his big hands squeezed your ass cheeks.

You pushed him against the wall, sliding a hand between you and touching his erection over his jeans.

Frankie chuckled, his voice hoarse “hey, someone’s hungry”

“I haven’t eaten,” you replied, pouting and then bursting into laughter. Frankie pulled you back into his embrace, kissing you again, trailing down your jaw and then your neck.

You moaned again.

“Well, you should eat something. There’s a place around here, they make amazing tacos, how about that?”

“I prefer to eat you” you replied mischievously, fumbling with his belt, Frankie looked at you in ecstasy. You took his cock in your mouth right there in that alley, dirtying your knees on the asphalt without caring. He was big, about the same size as Lucien, it pulsated deliciously on your tongue and you greedily swallowed every drop of his cum.

You started dating that same Monday, he took you out to dinner and you ended the night at his house where Frankie served you three orgasms with his mouth.

It had been unbelievable, Lucien was good at it but Frankie put a special dedication into licking you like he was pussy drunk and determined to giving you the best experience you could have had.

That evening, held in his arms, your face resting on his chest, you felt completely satisfied after a long time.

______________

You hadn't heard from Lucien for three months, you and Frankie were dated regularly and you really liked how your story was going. One day he took you flying in a helicopter. Seeing him focused, capable, totally immersed in his element made you so excited that as soon as you got off the ground you fucked him in his car, in the parking lot, with the risk that someone would catch you in the act.

He was a fantastic man, passionate, attentive and caring.

You had forgiven Lucien after all, if he hadn't asked you to see each other, your story with Frankie would never have started.

You often went to Frankie's bar after work, sat down for a drink and chatted with him and Santi, who in the meantime had started working there.

One evening while you were laughing together Lucien came in. You muttered an “oh no” under your breath looking at Frankie who immediately put a hand on top of yours resting on the counter and squeezed it as if to tell you to stay calm.

Santi exclaimed “Hey! What are you doing here?!”

You and Frankie simultaneously turned to him with wide eyes “do you know him?”

And Santi laughed and shrugged answering “of course! He’s my cousin!”

Lucien was as surprised as you were to see you all there together.

You had never met Lucien’s cousins, he had barely introduced you to his mother and only because she had insisted. He had always been elusive, you should have known from the beginning how it would end between you.

You certainly didn't want an official engagement either, anyway.

“Why the hell are you here, cousin?” Lucien said scratching his head.

“I work here, idiot, I even told you last week at your mom’s lunch but I’m not surprised you didn’t listen.”

You giggled at Santi’s reprimand, looking at Frankie and squeezing his hand tighter. You were so glad to be with an uncomplicated man like him.

Frankie promised you something and did it, he made a date with you and showed up on time, he showered you with attention and always thought of your pleasure before his own.

“Sit down, I'll pour you a beer” Santi said and moved to the tap.

Silence fell between the three of you, until Lucien broke it by noticing the way you were caressing Frankie's hand, making small concentric circles with your thumb on the back of his hand.

”So he’s your new boyfriend? Wasn’t his name Simon?”

“It didn’t work with Simon, Frankie is much better anyway,” you looked at him tenderly and his eyes returned yours with a sparkle under the peak of his cap.

“I’m glad,” Lucien simply said, looking at Frankie and then at you. Maybe he had finally learned to behave in a civil manner.

Santi placed a beer in front of his cousin and asked “so do you like this place?”

“Sure, I've been coming here long before you started working there. She and I used to come together all the time.”

Santi finally understood your triangle. “But you…” he said pointing to you “and him” pointing to Frankie and you nodded “but before you were with him… ok I understand”

Lucien laughed “it’s not that weird, you know”

And you thought that no, it actually wasn't, because of the state of mind you were in. You were very calm, finally, and Lucien's presence didn't bother you at all.

You spent the evening together, while Santi and Frankie served cocktails, chatting and laughing.

At the end of the evening you insisted on staying to help clean up despite Frankie and Santi's protests, so Lucien also felt compelled to volunteer.

“You'll finally do something useful, cousin.” Santiago said and you all laughed, including Lucien.

You and Frankie went home around 2am, while you were thinking about how tired you were he pushed you on his bed, his eyes locked on yours as he stripped you of your jeans and panties and spread your legs.

You just can’t resist when Frankie’s eyes darken in that particular way, as if he felt the intrinsic need to make you come. That night you also read something else in his gaze, the need to claim you as his.

“You really have the most beautiful cunt I've ever seen, do you know that darling? Who does this pussy belong to? hm?”

“It's yours” you managed to say as you took off his trusted baseball cap throwing it on the floor “it’s all yours”

He drowned in your pussy, coating your folds in his saliva, his tongue frantically moving up and down and his fingers teasing your entrance. He nuzzled at your clit, making you squirm with the tip of his nose bumping into your harden bud again and again.

You raised your gaze so as not to miss a single movement of his tongue and his hungry lips that were drinking from your most intimate part.

“Fuck, you’re so good at doing it, Frankie, oh my god” you whined, lacing your fingers with his soft raven curls, he smirked against your skin and kept licking you until you were an incoherent hot mess just babbling his and god name in a blissful state.

“I need you” you pleaded “please Frankie, give me your cock”

He lifted himself up to your mouth and kissed you, letting you taste your essence from his lips while with one hand he spread your lips and his tip began to push inside you.

“Fuck, you’re drenched” and you nodded completely incapable of putting together a meaningful sentence.

He filled you up, accompanying the last thrust with a groan, and waited just long enough for you to get used to his intrusion before starting to pump in and out of you with a steady pace.

Sex with Frankie was nurturing in a way that surprised you, he really took care of you, making you feel safe every step of the way, every thrust into you like a kiss on your cervix and a caress to your soul, you never experienced something so endearing before.

He really was the perfect partner and you’re never felt so lucky in your life.

———————————————

Three more months passed since the first evening spent with Frankie, Lucien and Santi at the bar and it became an habit almost every weekend, Lucien showing up late, you making fun of him and generally having a great time together chatting and laughing. Sometimes you invited some friends and one of them ended up having a huge crush on Santi.

You were happy to see them exchanging languid glances and withdrawing from you to chat alone. Claire, your best friend, confessed to you that she was crazy about Santi after almost a month and you were not at all surprised.

“I’ve noticed the way you two look at each other for a while now,” you laughed “it’s time you decided to go out alone.”

“Oh, we will, next Monday.”

You hugged her chirping “I’m so glad for you dear, you truly deserve the best! And Santiago is such a great guy!”

“I know!” She smiled “he’s so sweet and kind and such a menace sometimes, I just fell head over heels without even realizing it”

That was perfect, you with Frankie and your best friend with Frankie’s best friend, like every rom com that you loved rewatching for comfort at which Frankie laughed so hard at.

You couldn't wait to tell him that sometimes it really happened.

——————————

You were tidying up as usual, listening to music from the jukebox. It was two in the morning on a Friday like any other, since you were with Frankie your hours of sleep had decreased a bit but sleeping in his arms guaranteed you a deeper, more peaceful rest.

You and Frankie had celebrated your first six months together with a dinner earlier that week followed by two hours of intense, animalistic, intoxicating sex.

Lucien had seen you fall more and more in love, he had seen the way you looked at him, how you always sought physical contact, even if it was just intertwining your fingers with his, it was obvious that Frankie made you happy.

You would have been lying to yourself if you said you didn't feel anything for him anymore but Lucien made you lose the ground under your feet.

You needed someone stable, Frankie was your rock while Lucien was a dizzying amount of a person.

You were taking out a bag of garbage when you heard noises in the alley and low voices.

You looked out the back door curiously and saw Frankie and Lucien talking in the shadows. You stood still behind the half-closed door trying to listen. They hadn’t noticed you.

“We should tell her,” Frankie said and Lucien replied, “not now, please, she would never forgive me.”

“Lu, I love her, do you understand? I don’t want to hurt her.”

Lucien nodded “I know Frankie, you think I don’t care about her? But if we tell her now she’ll think it’s my fault, please. We’ll find a way, I promise”

Lucien rested his hands on Frankie’s forearms, caressing him and bringing his hands to his, clenched into fists along his sides “come on, don’t do that”

You were paralyzed. What was it that they couldn’t tell you? And why did Frankie and Lucien seem so close when in front of you they just acted cordially and threw each other the occasional barb?

You thought they were united by their affection for you and Santiago and tolerated each other for your sake but at that moment you weren't sure anymore.

Your blood froze in your veins when you saw Lucien approach Frankie and kiss him.

It was something you never thought you’d see in your life and most of all you never thought Frankie would do something like that behind your back. “Stop it Lu. I told you, I won’t do anything until we tell her. Kissing the other day was a mistake, I can’t forgive myself for that” he pushed Lucien away “and how can you think of doing it again? Have some respect for her and for yourself”

You couldn't see Frankie's gaze in the dim light but you knew it was similar to the first time he realized Lucien had cheated on you. You were relieved, Frankie hadn't given in, hadn't made the same mistake, because he knew how you felt.

Lucien blurted out “Look, I love her too, I don't want to be an asshole again but you also know how I feel about you. And I know you feel the same, idiot. Don't try to put all the blame on me, there are two sides to every ditch and I didn’t dig alone. Your lips were on mine the other day and I felt your hard cock okay?!”

Lucien had a desperate tone that you had only heard him use when he had tried to apologize to you months before.

You were speechless. If you had to be honest with yourself, you had noticed certain looks but you had never interpreted them.

Frankie pushed Lucien by the shoulders pinning him against the wall “Listen to me, idiot. You were the one who kissed me first. It’s incredible that you don’t even know how to take responsibility for yourself.” Lucien’s feet barely touched the ground from the way your boyfriend was slamming him into the bricks of the wall. “You may have been the first man who made me hard but that’s it and you know why? You will never ruin what I have with the best girl I’ve ever met. I want her to be part of this. Either that or we do nothing.”

He had moved away from Lucien to go back inside, you quickly left the garbage in the closet so you wouldn’t get caught, you would throw it out later with an excuse.

You walked over to the bar and poured yourself a shot of whiskey, downing it in one gulp. “Hey, where were you?” Santi asked as he came back through the front door. He had gone out to take Claire to get a taxi.

“I went to the bathroom,” you lied, and Santi raised an eyebrow, looking at you with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine, don't worry.”

You put the glass in the dishwasher and loaded it, mulling it over in your head as Santi talked about how great the night had been. He counted the takings sitting at the counter while the jukebox played Bruce Springsteen's Hungry Hearts.

You had always known that Lucien was bisexual, you were too. You had a girlfriend for a couple years in college and it had been a great relationship.

It must have been the first time it happened to him, you couldn't think of any other explanation.

“I want her to be a part of this” Frankie’s words were still ringing into your head.

You giggled unknowingly at the thought of Frankie being excited for another man, it was… sexy.

“Hey!” Santi snapped his fingers in front of your eyes “are you still here with us?”

“Yes” you quickly answered.

Santi chuckled “what was that little smile for?”

“Oh nothing, I was thinking about Frankie” it wasn’t entirely a lie, you were thinking about him. And Lucien. And the three of you together. It intrigued you more than you were willing to admit.

“You two lovebirds are so cute” Santi mocked you and you didn’t mind at all.

Frankie came back followed by Lucien “Are you ready to go home, baby?”

“Yes, I’ll take this to the closet and I’m ready” You lifted the first case you saw behind the counter hoping that it actually belonged there.

“Let me do it” Frankie suggested but you immediately replied “no love, I can do it, don’t worry, I’ll be right back” you smiled and gave him a kiss and then you headed towards the closet.

You picked up the garbage you had left there and went out into the alley to throw it away. You took a long sigh, feeling your cheeks hot as you thought back to the scene you had seen. You didn’t know what would happen but you had faith in Frankie, he would fix everything.

You went back inside. Lucien sat silently in the corner, looking back and forth between you and Frankie, and now you could see longing in his eyes. He looked at Frankie almost as you did.

Your heart fluttered.

————————————————-

After two days of silence you were ready to snap at Frankie. Why the hell didn't he tell you the truth? You could see his gaze drop every time you mentioned Lucien in a conversation and you knew he had the speech he wanted to give you on the tip of his tongue.

You were pissed, but you tried to stay calm.

You couldn't believe Frankie wasn't being honest with you about this when he had talked to you about much more serious things, opening up to you with simplicity. He had told you about his previous job, about the anxiety attacks it had left him with.

He had been in therapy for years and dropped out because of this.

Santiago was the person who helped him face reality, he never abandoned him and Frankie said he owed him his life. The reason he opened the bar was because they had always talked about it “we’re going to open a bar and we won’t have to deal with this shit anymore”. They had always said that and it had become a kind of mantra that had kept Frankie afloat every time he thought he was sinking into anxiety.

He was a new person now and you were lucky enough to find him.

You didn't want to lose him and you certainly wouldn't have tolerated it happening because of Lucien.

You wanted so badly to trust that Frankie would tell you about it sooner or later.

And then there was something else and you knew it was wrong but you couldn’t get the way he had pushed Lucien against the wall out of your head.

Lucien was not small and yet he seemed light as a feather under Frankie's hands.

Was that his real strength? He had obviously never used it with you and you had asked yourself many times what those powerful arms were capable of doing.

In addition to that, you couldn't stop thinking about you, Frankie and Lucien in the same bed. It was your’s greedy brain fault.

You felt guilty because Frankie never failed to please you. At the same time, however, you imagined what it would be like if Lucien had also entered the picture.

Frankie wanted it too after all, he had said so.

By the end of the week you were so pent up by all scenarios you imagined that you actually prayed for Frankie’s confession.

“Frankie” you said on Friday morning, after a night spent at this place sleeping in his arms “we need to talk”

His fingers began to fidget on the kitchen table where you were both sitting having a cup of coffee and some pancakes that you made from scratch.

“About what?” He asked

You swallowed air, carefully choosing your words “Well, I saw something last Saturday night” and he widened his eyes knowing already what you meant. You could see fear in his look so you instinctively brought your hand over his nervously tapping on the table’s wood.

“Don’t worry” you tried to reassure him “I don’t want to break up with you. I love you Frankie, and you can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

Frankie looked pale and concerned “Yes baby but that was so bad. I don’t know what to say”

“Truth is fine” you suggested and he nodded, taking a long breath “yeah, you deserve it so here it is. Lucien kissed me once, about two weeks ago and then again on Saturday. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was scared. It’s just that… I also didn’t know I was into men before. I swear it’s the first time that happened to me but I felt something. Something strong, actually. I was so confused but more than anything else I don’t want to hurt you. I love you, no matter how many men I could find attractive, you’re the most important person in my life.”

Your heart melted instantly at the puppy eyes look that he gave you.

“I trust you. I wish you had told me right away because you know I can understand, but if it was your first time I guess you needed time to process it.”

“Yeah” he murmured softly “but I’m sorry anyway”

“It’s okay. Actually… I don’t mind the idea”

Frankie spat the coffee he was drinking back in his cup “What?”

“Yeah” you admit “I mean… it’s hot” and you felt your cheeks burn at the revelation.

Frankie smirked, looking at you with that particular gaze in his eyes that you recognized as horniness “you would love to fuck both of us, don’t you? Naughty girl”

“I’d love to have a threesome, yeah” you cooed, approaching him and sitting on his lap. You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, you felt his hands wandering on your back and hold you tight.

“What have I done to have a woman like you? Really, I’m the luckier motherfucker that ever existed”

You kissed him again losing yourself at the sensation.

____________________

You saw Lucien at the bar that evening.

Santi was busy making drinks across the counter, Claire was sitting in front of him, Frankie was in the back getting a keg of beer to replace the one that finished.

You were sitting next to each other and you could feel the tension rising in your chest.

Lucien, oblivious to everything, smiled at you and told you about a movie he had just seen.

You hadn’t been this nervous in his presence since you first met and you couldn’t stop staring at the gold chain around his neck. It made you wet to think at the way the accidentally hit your face while he pumped into you.

You'd never liked it on anyone but him, just as you'd never liked anyone who wore a baseball cap all the time before you met Frankie. They were your exceptions.

You were imagining Frankie being hit while Lucien fucked him. Each time they hit your lip or chin the sudden pain turned into pleasure and that little moment had become part of your sexual routine.

The kiss you had seen, though chaste and hasty, had uncovered a series of needs inside you that you hadn't even expected. You had been seething inside all week and talking about it with your boyfriend had only partially calmed you down.

“Lucien” you said “I need to tell you something”

“Just tell me” he grinned, you could see from his expression that he wasn’t expecting anything you were about to say.

“Maybe it’s better if we go out” you sighed, getting up from the stool.

Lucien followed you with a questioning look on his face, you made your way through the crowd to the exit and you leaned against the outside wall of the place, standing on the pavement, while he looked at you “so, what do you have to tell me?”.

You twisted your hands nervously as you searched for the words. “I… I saw you. You and Frankie” you spat suddenly, not finding another way to say it.

Lucien immediately became alarmed and started babbling “oh, no, listen, it’s not what you think… I mean… nothing serious happened, I would never do something like that behind your back again, I know you’re happy with him and I don’t want to ruin it, please believe me. It was just a kiss”

“I know. Frankie told me” you said, firmly “I can't exactly say the same about you but I trust him”

Lucien looked down, as if he was scanning the pavement for who knows what. “I… I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t want to take him away from you. The thing is… I realized how happy you were and first I envied you…And one day… I saw Frankie looking at me and I… I messed up, please forgive me, I’ll never kiss him again.”

You watched him simmer and feel ashamed and you were almost tempted to leave him like that, without saying anything else, as punishment for what he had put you through months before.

You smirked “Lucien” and he wouldn’t stop piling up excuses “Lucien! Shut up and listen to me!” you snapped

“Okay” he replied continuing to inspect the sidewalk.

“Frankie I are inseparable, you know. But… we can try something, if you want”

You locked eyes with his and watched as his expressions changed from confused to intrigued. “What?” he asked, with a crooked smile.

You knew he already understood but he was dying to hear you say it.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed at seeing him gloat like that. “I can’t stand you when you do that.”

“Like what?” he pressed, moving closer to you.

“Like… you are, God, you are so arrogant. You make me regret my own thoughts.”

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered into your neck. He was dangerously close, you were practically trapped between him and the wall. If there was one thing that would never change, it was Lucien’s ability to make you feel like you were playing with fire.

“I want… the three of us…”

“What?” he insisted “say it”

“I want us to have sex, okay, the three of us. together” you squealed.

Lucien looked into your eyes, searching your gaze, you felt like you had confessed a sin. “Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. Interesting.”

“Stop gloating and tell me what you think,” you protested, arms crossed over your chest.

Lucien took your hands and brought your arms down your body, pressing you against the wall and whispering in your ear, “I’m in. Whenever you want.”

“You’re a slut, you know that, huh?”

“Hey! You suggested it, okay? And what can I do, I like to fuck with people who turn me on. So tell me sweetie, when are we doing it?“

“Tonight,” you answered instinctively, the desire to kiss him eating you up and the thought of seeing him with Frankie occupying every part of your brain.

“Woah, you’re not wasting your time.”

“You know I never liked it,” you replied, looking at him through your lashes.

Lucien had always awakened a primal instinct in you, maybe it was his disheveled look, the shirts he always wore open partially revealing his chest, the smell of his skin, the way his beard nipped your cheeks as he kissed you, you didn’t know, but you felt it strongly every time he got closer than he should have.

You came back in and your gaze immediately searched for Frankie, you saw him behind the counter and you slipped in, grabbing him by the waist “you know you can’t stay here” he warned you tenderly, placing his hands on yours “be good and go back to your stool”.

You moved in front of him and looked him intensely in the eyes.

He was so beautiful, so sweet, so attractive that you would have covered him in kisses right there, in front of everyone.

“It’s done. For tonight.” you cooed, winking at him.

Frankie smiled “you’re a little schemer, you know that?” And he kissed you, giving you a pat on the ass immediately after “Good. I can’t wait. Now get out of here”.

You dutifully went to sit down and did nothing but watch him and Lucien alternately for the rest of the evening, reading anticipation on their faces, feeling impatient and excited. You could hardly believe that this was going to happen, and yet you were one step away from having sex with both of them and you had wanted it.

______________

Santi went home with Claire leaving the three of you alone, he looked at you a little suspiciously because normally you would have protested at the fact that he was running off with his girlfriend leaving you to clean up.

He didn't know what you had in mind but he wasn't stupid anyway and he had surely noticed the glances you had exchanged all evening.

He turned around before leaving and smiled saying "have fun”

Once you were alone, a strange energy spread through the bar. No one knew how to make the first move. Lucien was babbling about the beer bottles left lying around, Frankie was busy sweeping every corner, you were lounging at the counter, rubbing the surface with cloth and detergent as if you had to mirror yourself on the wood.

You had to do something to warm up the atmosphere. You put away the cloth, washed your hands and armed with courage you took a coin from your wallet and headed towards the jukebox. You were looking for a song that could give you the push to take the initiative.

You chose Let’s get it on. Marvin Gaye. “A classic always works. It has to work.” you thought. You turned and looked around the place. The dim lights, the smell of whiskey, lime and beer, the little couches scattered around in the corners, the old jukebox, it was a place you knew like the back of your hand and it made you feel comfortable.

It was nice to watch your boys move around in there, confident and relaxed, it had been for all the nights you’d spent there.

You were pleasantly tipsy, not so much that you were drunk but enough to feel brave.

You could have done it. With the song playing in the air, warm and sensual, you felt ready.

You went to your rock first. You walked over to Frankie smiling at his obsessive sweeping of the same spot for the past 5 minutes.

“Hey. I think it’s clean.”

"You say?" Frankie leaned the broom against the wall, laughing, welcoming you into his arms immediately after. You rested your face on his plaid shirt, inhaling his scent, that intoxicating scent of tobacco and leather that you loved so much.

“I love you so much, you know that, right?” You murmured in his chest.

“I know, baby, I love you too”

You raised your chin and looked him in his beautiful chocolate eyes, he moved his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek, brushing his thumb on your skin.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever met” he said. You didn't know how but Frankie had the extraordinary talent of always saying what you needed to hear.

And he said it in a way, with that deep, slightly hoarse voice that made you tingling inside every single time.

You kissed him, savoring him slowly, his tongue brushing your lips, making room into your mouth, intertwining with yours. Frankie deepened the kiss, holding you tight.

You moaned softly into his mouth, reaching out to take off his hat and burying a hand in his hair.

“Interesting song choice,” Frankie whispered, moving his hands to your ass and squeezing “Shall we go home?”

“Yes in a little while, let me dance with you some more” Frankie chuckled, holding you close and starting to swing with you, your bodies pressed and rubbing together.

Lucien came up behind you. “Can I join?” he asked mischievously.

His arms were on Frankie’s, you were deliciously snuggled between the two of them as the three of you moved your hips in unison.

You were silent, still moving, your breaths growing together.

Lucien's hands wrapped around Frankie's strong biceps were a perfect sight. Sandwiched between the two of them, you felt exactly how you imagined.

Hot, confident, eager.

Lucien was the first to break the silence, you felt him half-hard against your ass.

“At my place or yours?” he asked Frankie smirking

“At my house. It’s closer” he replied immediately.

You pulled away and looked into each other's eyes. "Are we sure we want to do this?" Frankie asked.

“I think… yeah” you were hopeful that neither of them had changed their minds and Lucien nodded “Yes, I’m more than sure” and accompanied the sentence with a caress on your arm.

“Do you still want it, Frankie?” And he nodded too saying “of course”

“Come here,” you waved them both closer together and put a hand on the back of their heads, making your mouths collide, a tangle of lips and teeth and tongues.

Lucien's lips were impatient and needy on one side, Frankie's ones expert and sweet on the other. And you in the middle. You no longer knew who was licking whose lips, your saliva and your mixed flavors were intoxicating.

You pulled away and panted “let’s go.”

The song that had accompanied your kisses had ended, leaving a trail of desire.

You reached Frankie's truck hugging each other, Frankie and Lucien's hands intertwined behind your back.

You sat down in front next to Frankie, taking Lucien's hand that was hanging from behind on your shoulder and caressing it while with the other you squeezed Frankie's thigh, slowly moving up towards the crotch of his jeans.

He squinted at you “what are you doing, babe?”

You batted your eyelashes “nothing” and then chuckled softly.

“Well, this nothing is sending me out of space”

Lucien laughed in the backseat as you finally approached Frankie’s house.

As soon as you entered Lucien pushed you against the wall and kissed you “god, I missed your lips”

You smiled, holding on to Frankie's shirt and pulling him close to you.

Frankie's hand hugged your hip feverishly, moving up to your breast, his palm open on your shirt, right on your hardened nipple stiffing against your lacy bra.

Lucien continued his lustful path up your jaw, down the column of your neck, sucking the soft skin and smoothing it with his tongue.

Frankie kneaded your breasts with one hand while squeezing your butt with the other until he grunted “Take off your clothes, baby”

Lucien pulled away, looking at you expectantly.

You smiled at both of them, standing in front of you waiting to see your naked body appear before their eyes.

You took off your shirt, throwing it on Frankie who smiled catching it and bringing it to his nose to inhale your scent.

You could see that light in his eyes, that spark of desire that always shone when he wanted you desperately.

You continued your undressing by unhooking your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Their eyes were fixed on your nipples stiffen in the air.

Lucien instinctively took Frankie's hand and squeezed it tightly, wincing.

“You are always as I remembered you. Gorgeous,” he muttered and a rush of pride rose up to your chest.

“Yes? Touch me,” you invited him.

Lucien’s hand tremblingly approached your waist, moving up along it, stopping at the side of your breast. With his thumb he reached your nipple, brushing it with the tip of his finger.

He freed himself from Frankie's grip and took his hand again, placing it on the crotch of his jeans, turning to give him a crooked smile full of silent requests.

Frankie smiled at him, embarrassed but horny, moving his hand up and down the outline of his cock. It was a new sensation for him, he seemed totally enraptured by it.

Lucien didn't stop caressing you, a moan escaped his lips, his eyes moving alternately between you and Frankie.

Frankie in turn raised a hand to touch your other breast, you wriggled in your guys's hands, so different and yet so enhancing, both of them.

Your guys… it was so strange to think about but that's what they were in that moment. Yours, all yours.

Lucien urged you, “Why don’t you take off your skirt too, princess?”

You didn't need to be told twice, you pulled down the side zip and let it slide down your hips.

“Mmm you’re wearing my favorite panties” Frankie whispered and Lucien echoed “I remember them well. I loved the curve of your ass tight in those panties”

They looked at each other pleased and in a fit of need they exchanged a kiss. Seeing their beards rubbing against, their tongues chasing, their hungry lips capturing each other and hear them moaning into each other’s mouth was too much.

You moaned, your eyes hypnotized in front of that vision. Everything you had imagined took shape in front of you, it was like a dream from which you prayed never to wake up.

“God…” Frankie muttered “let’s go to my room”

————————————————————

You had always liked Frankie's room, it was simply furnished but comfortable.

There was a large bed right in the center, with a beautiful blue duvet that you loved, it was wonderful to cuddle up there with him.

Frankie pushed you gently against it, inviting you to sit down. He turned to Lucien, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt, looking into his eyes. Lucien was looking back at him intently.

Once undone, Frankie ran a hand over his neck, tangling his fingers in his chain, letting it slide down his chest, until it reached his jeans. He fumbled with the button, then pulled down the zipper, and let them slide down his hips. Lucien helped him by stepping on them and pulling them off his ankle, then kicking them to the floor.

He took off his shirt and threw it in a corner. He was naked except for a pair of black boxers that barely contained his erection.

Your gaze wandered on his sculpted chest that ended in a slightly soft, delicious belly, which you had always loved to nibble and you felt your panties getting wet at the sight.

Frankie was the only one still dressed at that point so you urged him “Undress, love, we want to see you”

You could recognize a hint of uncertainty in his eyes but you knew he wanted it. He wanted it so badly that his cap had been left behind at the bar and it was the first time that had happened.

He took off the flannel shirt he was wearing over a T-shirt.

Lucien sat down next to you, letting his fingers slide down your arm.

Frankie pulled his shirt off his neck, leaving his chest bare. You had a thing for his nipples, small, pink, sweet as honey under your tongue. You loved playing with them, and Frankie went crazy every time you did it, even if he wouldn’t admit it openly.

“Come here,” you asked, and he leaned in. You reached up and took one of his nipples between your fingers, pinching it.

Lucien chuckled as Frankie squirmed under your touch “he likes it huh? Good to know”.

Frankie glared at him, “only she can do that,” and Lucien pretended to agree with a clearly amused tone, “yes, of course.”

Frankie snorted, before reaching down and grabbing your knees, spreading your legs “let me see her”.

He reached for the lace of your panties, rubbing it against your folds, wetting the fabric further. “Oh yes, that’s what she needed.”

“She needs you always” you moaned.

“I know. Lie down, love, I want to give her everything she wants” he replied under his breath.

Lying on the bed, you felt Frankie's hands hook around the edges of your panties and you lifted your hips slightly to allow him to pull them down.

He began kissing your inner thigh, lingering on your skin, trailing up towards your groin.

Lucien lowered himself to one of your breasts and licked the areola all around, deliberately avoiding the nipple, looking at you with a knowing smile.

The moment Frankie dipped his fingers between your folds Lucien took your nipple into his mouth, starting to suck slowly.

They worked in sync, your boyfriend between your thighs and your ex on your tit, it felt like they were everywhere, all over your body, ready to taste every part of you.

Frankie’s fingers gathered your arousal to your clit, surrounding it with two fingers shaped in a V and stroking it up and down.

You whined their name, both of them.

Lucien was sucking at your nipple like a madman, pinching and twisting the other one with his fingers.

He parted for a moment just to ask Frankie to stop. Frankie interrupted his careful work around your clit and folds with a grunt “what do you want?”

“It will take me just a second” Lucien wetted two of his fingers with your juice and then he spread it out on your nipple, motioning in circles and then sucking at it again. “mmm even better, babe, I can taste how sweet your are on your fucking beautiful tit”.

It was something he enjoyed doing and it always made your head spin. He moaned loudly sucking at your nipple like that, overwhelmed by the new flavor on it.

Frankie returned down to lick your pussy, up and down, precise, calm, relentless. No one could do it like him, not Lucien, not anyone else you’d ever had.

His hands squeezed your thighs, holding them wide, his tongue lapped flat between your outer lips and when he reached your clit he took it between his lips, sucking it.

“Oh my god, it feels so good” you whine

“I can never get enough of your sweet little pussy,” he whispered between licks.

Your hand disappeared between his dark curls, pushing him towards your pussy, inviting him to dive even deeper and when you felt his tongue pushing your entrance you encouraged him to fuck you with it “more baby, give me more” and Frankie nudged into your hole continuing to take care of your clit with his fingers and then alternating sucking and stroking, until two of his fingers were inside of you and he curled them in a way he knows he was making you crumble.

Lucien was cupping your tit, caressing it with his hand and tongue, his beard gently brushing it, giving you extra stimulation.

They didn’t stop until you were a mess of whimpers and beg, you felt your essence running out of you, Frankie’s mouth catching every drop of it expertly, obscene squelch coming out of you as you clenched around your boyfriend’s big fingers.

“Give it to me, baby, give it all to me” Frankie incited you while you felt your orgasm flooding through your body, making you quiver.

Lucien slipped between your legs “I wanna taste her a little more, please” asking your boyfriend’s permission which drove you absolutely crazy, Frankie made room for him by placing himself next to you and as he continued on your bundle of nerves with his thumb, Lucien licked you clean, drinking from you.

They stood up and kissed as you caught your breath, Frankie's hand on Lucien's waist pulling him towards him, demanding and keen.

You stayed out it for a while watching them, leaning on your elbows, enjoying their eager mouths, tasting your flavor on each other’s tongue, their beards drenched in your juices.

Frankie was much rougher with him, almost matching Lucien’s typical impatience.

He bit his lower lip, sucking it then forcing his tongue into his mouth licking like a starve man.

You loved seeing him lose his inhibitions, it turned you on deeply the way he trailed down on Lucien’s jaw and neck and up to his lips again, rubbing his hand on his cock over the fabric.

You knelt down beside them, your hands on the elastic of their boxers. You pulled them down with their help and they stepped out of them, leaving them crumpled on the floor.

With one hand on both of their cocks you began to stroke them, feeling their velvety skin slide between your fingers, both were already hard, leaking pre cum.

“Mmmm all slippery and wet for me… I love it” you cooed and they stopped kissing looking down at you, mouths parted and running out of breath.

You brought their cocks together rubbing them on one another, touching the tips, stroking them up and down and they left out a whimper.

You had to use two hands to hold both of their big fat cocks.

You continued to smear their pre cum down their length, skin on skin, tips kissing, pleasure on pleasure building strongly as they throbbed in your hands.

They were both hypnotized by your movements, eyes locked on your hands working on their shafts.

You felt a rush of power in your chest, both of your guys at your mercy, your cunt slick again, arousal pooling at your core.

Lucien palmed the back of your head and you couldn’t help but leaning yourself at his cock licking his tip, savoring his flavor on your tongue.

You did the same to Frankie and he praised “you’re so fucking beautiful like that”

You took his length in your mouth, stroking Lucien with your hand, Frankie’s heavy and hot on your tongue as you slide down until you felt it in the back of your throat, almost gagging.

Frankie whispered “god, baby, you always take me so well”

You whined feeling your cunt dripping on your thighs, beginning to suck him.

You run your tongue up and down his length, sucking on his mushroom head, feeling salt and musk invading your mouth.

You stroke Lucien some more and then he moved on his knees right next to you.

You turned and looked him as you sucked, his dark eyes eagerly watching Frankie’s cock disappearing between your lips.

“Can I help?”

You pulled away from your boyfriend’s cock, a thread of saliva connecting his length to your lips.

“Do you want to taste it?”

Lucien nodded repeatedly.

“Say it,” you urged, “I want to hear it.”

“I want to -”

You shook your head, “Tsk. You’re not getting away easily with this. And you don’t say ‘I want’. Ask nicely.”

Lucien gulped before speaking again, visibly annoyed. You didn’t care, it was Frankie’s cock you were talking about, it belonged to you. Him begging for it seemed like the least he could do.

“Can I take it in my mouth, please?” Lucien had finally decided to submit to your will, he was losing his cockiness, pleading with his entire face, and it felt good.

“Only for a few minutes. And make sure you don’t make him come, that’s my job”

“Okay” he agreed and he lowered himself onto Frankie’s cock, mouth wide open, starting to suck where you left off.

Frankie gave you a pleased look, he was clearly impressed by your attitude and you caressed him on his tummy, just above where Lucien's head was, tracing with your fingers that happy strip of hair that led to his intimacy.

A little something only you were allowed to do, ‘cause Frankie was so self conscious of his tummy.

He gained a little bit of weight that went right there on his love handles since he retired and you worked so hard to make him feel better about it.

You loved every single inch of him, from his lovely curls, to his strong nose, from his wide shoulders to his soft belly.

His body was made for loving you, to protect you, to make you feel safe.

You grabbed his balls as Lucien continued to suck him avidly and you gently gripped on them, Frankie left out a whimper that went straight to your cunt.

You angled your face to suck on one, sliding it over your tongue the way you knew he liked it.

Your face right next to Lucien's as you took care of Frankie together must have been something Frankie would never have imagined, you had never heard him moan like that and honestly you were on the edge too as you heard the obscene sounds made by Lucien's mouth full of Frankie's cock so close to your ears.

“Jesus fuck” he muttered, taking an handful of Lucien’s messy hair, pushing him down to his length, you suffocated a little evil laugh at hearing Lucien gagging more than you did.

As soon as you felt Frankie's balls harden you ordered Lucien to move, he took Frankie's cock out of his mouth with a lewd pop and for a moment you lost concentration looking at his swollen lips.

You shook yourself, stuffing what belonged to you into your mouth, wrapping your hand around his base, sucking non-stop, Frankie pulsing on your tongue, his musky scent filling your nostrils, him praising you “my good girl, you are so incredible. You like it huh? I know love, just like that, don't stop”

You increased the pace, sucking at his tip with all the breath you had left, swallowing his whole spent down your throat as soon as he spurted it in long thick streaks, his whole body quivering, his head falling backward and his eyes shut.

“Fuck yeah, baby, oh my- fuck you swallow like a champ” His voice spent and hoarse almost cracked.

You kept it in your mouth until he softened, he looked at you so sweetly, cradling your head, repeating “I love you, baby, I love you so much” and you looked back at him with all the affection that flooded from your heart.

“Come to me, darling,” he said as he sat on the bed and motioned for Lucien to join you on the opposite side. The two of you lay down on Frankie’s bed, you were in the center again, pressed against his chest with one leg wrapped around his waist, while Lucien hugged you from behind.

Frankie kissed the crown of your head, your hair, caressing your arm, holding you tight.

Lucien left a small trail of kisses along your cheek and neck as you felt his cock press against your ass and you hummed quietly.

The three of you stayed like that for a while, snuggled together and listening to your breathing return to normal, until Frankie asked you what else you wanted to do.

“I want…” you paused, examining your desires thoroughly “I want you in my cunt and Lucien in my mouth”

Frankie left out a “damn girl! You’re insatiable” kissing your forehead and you hid your face on his chest giggling.

You raised your head admiring your boyfriend’s captivating smile and his beautiful brown eyes, a little dimple popping out at the side of his mouth.

“Yeah” you cooed “I’m always hungry for you”

Frankie provoked you “and what do you tell me about him?”

“It's a nice addition” you admitted reaching Lucien’s cheek with your hand, passing your fingers tip on his scratchy beard.

“Spit roasted huh?” Lucien whispered into your ear “such a good girl for us”

“On all fours, babe”

You willingly complied with Frankie's request and he stood behind you.

“Is she ready?” He asked and you whined a “yes, please” sticking your ass out and spreading your legs for him.

Frankie leaned down and spread your folds his fingers, looking at your pussy. “Almost” he said.

You snorted “What, almost?” You felt wetter than you’d ever felt in your life, just the thought of being taken by both of them at the same time made your clit vibrate “Yes, love, you need to stretch out a little for me, just a little”.

You protested under your breath and Frankie suddenly stuck his index and middle fingers up to his knuckles inside you. You winced, feeling your disagreement die in your throat.

“Fuck!”

“Here you are princess” he said, starting to move his fingers inside you, in lascivious squeaks and a flow of juices that coated them.

Lucien was in front of you, kneeling, slowly pumping his cock. He approached your face passing the tip on your lips, spreading drops of pre cum over them.

Your mouth instantly agape welcomed him, humming at the flavor spreading on your tongue. Its thick vein crawled across your palate, its flavor a little more pungent than Frankie's but just as pleasant.

You inhaled sharply through your nose, focusing on relaxing your mouth to let him slide in as Frankie's fingers explored relentlessly inside you, caressing your g-spot.

You were basically gushing on his fingers, squirming and crying as your orgasm rose up from your tummy, to your chest, choking in your throat full of Lucien’s cock.

“Fuck baby, you’re dripping on my wrist” Frankie groaned.

Lucien placed his hands on either side of your face and gave a couple of harder thrusts, hitting your throat.

You felt on the verge of tears but the orgasm Frankie was giving you was easing the pain, leaving you in a state of dizziness.

Frankie lined up with your entrance, hitting your folds with his cock a few times and then entering with one firm thrust. He hit your cervix and made you see stars.

He began to hammer into you, gripping your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh.

It was rougher than usual but you didn't mind. Being fucked from both ends was blowing your mind, you had never felt so full.

“Fuck, princess, you’re taking me well” Frankie yelled behind your back while Lucien was grunting right in front of you, palpitating on your tongue.

You were exhausted, overstimulated, yet you didn't know how to stop.

Your skin was incredibly hot, little drops of sweat were sliding down your skin.

You looked at Lucien and his chains flapped on his chest while his raven curls were plastered to his forehead.

His eyes were narrowed, his jaw was slack, an ecstatic expression painted on his face.

You could have come just by watching him but Frankie wouldn’t stop thrusting into you, he was now bent over you holding onto your breasts, barely keeping his balance but you knew how much he loved grabbing your tits while he fucked you. Frankie was a tit man. He was the king of oral sex but while he was doing it he loved to pinch your nipples and could spend just as much time sucking your tits as he enjoyed doing it at your clit. No one had ever made you squirt before Lucien, that’s true, but Frankie was on another level. Making you explode like that was a mission for him and to do that he concentrated on putting his mouth where he knew it would have the greatest effect. And you had sensitive nipples. A perfect match.

Frankie was so close, you knew it because of his sounds. You knew them by heart, those guttural moans that slipped past his lips when he couldn't hold it in any longer.

He flooded your pussy a few moments later and you came right after him, the sound of your orgasm muffled by Lucien's cock still in your mouth even though you felt a storm inside.

You swallowed Lucien's seed shortly after, his hand anchored to the nape of your neck.

He sounded incoherent and delirious as he filled your mouth with his cum.

You collapsed together on the bed, a tangle of legs and arms and labored breathing.

After a few minutes Frankie said “I think I’m not done yet” and you looked at him and immediately understood. Lucien didn’t know him that well, his face was relaxed and totally unaware.

“Huh? What do you want to do?” he asked innocently. Frankie was staring at you and smiling in a mischievous way.

“Oh I know…” you grinned back at Frankie.

“Can someone explain it to me?” Lucien was starting to get nervous, probably feeling cut off from your complicity.

He would know very soon.

Frankie didn't give him time to ask any more questions, he moved on the bed, manhandling him like a puppet.

He turned him over on his back, holding both his wrists still with one hand and said “now you will take my cock. Be good and get down on your knees for me, kitten”

He let go of his wrists and Lucien, submissive like you'd ever seen him, got down on all fours for your boyfriend.

“It's time to take off that braggart look on your face.” Frankie barked.

Lucien tried to protest but before he could, Frankie's finger had already disappeared up into his ass.

He screamed a “fuck” in a broken voice and Frankie laughed “Come on, I know you like it”

“Yeah, I do. You could have prepared me though, motherfucker” Frankie slapped Lucien’s ass.

A red patch radiated across his skin. You were sitting quietly on the side of the bed, enjoying the scene. Frankie was serving you a little revenge on a silver plate.

“I think you deserve a little punishment so now you will shut up, you will take my cock in your ass and you will like it, we clear?”

Lucien moaned as Frankie moved his finger inside him, stretching him out.

“Fuck. Okay. it's not the first time someone's been hard on me though”

For a novice, Frankie certainly showed no hesitation “Ask yourself why”

He had had anal sex before, it had happened with you too but it was his first time with a man.

Lucien's breathing had become heavy again, he was literally melting under Frankie's touch.

He added another finger.

“Yeah, you like that, look how good you're taking my fingers. Tell me you like it, I want to hear it.”

Lucien moaned incoherently and Frankie spanked him again “Use your words”

Lucien babbled “I- I can’t” and Frankie's hand went down a third time on his ass

“Yes you can, speak up” he ordered.

Frankie was a vision.

Focused, relentless, you unconsciously lowered a hand between your legs as you watched him, starting to flick on your clit.

“I love it” Lucien finally managed to say “fuck. yes”

“Good boy” Frankie hummed “you can call me daddy if you like that”

You laughed and Lucien raging voice protested “I won’t call you daddy in a million years, asshole”

Frankie thrusted his fingers inside him saying “Shall we bet?”

Lucien left out a single desperate moan.

“I swear I never wanted it before but now I feel like doing it” you whispered and Frankie winked at you.

He pumped his cock it into his fist, until he got hard again, giving a few more slaps to Lucien who was waiting obscenely open for him.

He pounded into him grabbing him by his hips, thrusting in and out of him ferociously.

Lucien screamed in a frenzy.

You kept touching your clit, increasing the pace along with Frankie who sank into Lucien in long, incessant thrusts.

He grabbed him by his waist and Lucien slammed into Frankie’s chest, holding him firmly as he continued to fuck him.

“The chain” Lucien pleaded “please”

Frankie entwined his fingers with the metal “what do you want, kitten?”

“Pull it. Gently” Lucien said “I need- please”

Frankie didn’t hesitate, pulling it towards him, Lucien moaned, his breathing slightly constricted by the metal around his neck. Frankie was careful not to overdo it and the little extra stimulation sent Lucien over the edge. His neck was red where the chain dug into his skin.

You were now at your limit, flicking on your clit like crazy, two finger stuck in your cunt, wailing along with Lucien and Frankie.

You came screaming Frankie's name like a God, Lucien's body jolted against Frankie's, he pulled out of your ex's ass, stroking his cock a couple of time before painting Lucien’s ass cheeks with his cum.

You were lying on the bed again a moment after, you hugging Frankie and Lucien next to you.

You sighed, breaking the silence first “If we do this again I think I’ll cancel my gym membership,” and they both laughed.

A/n: If you've made it this far, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart for your time. 🩷 I hope you enjoyed it, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[genderqueerdykes]

hi forgive the unsolicited advice, but that doctor experience was fucked and you have a right to file a complaint. Also, have you considered bringing a friend to advocate for you? I do it with my friends and then the doctor listens to me repeat my friends' questions and has to explain their bias to me or be on their best behavior and give the medical care they're actually supposed to give.

that's not unsolicited advice at all, thank you!

i do not have many friends or people who can come to appointments and advocate for me unfortunately- i had to separate from my last friend group because of how toxic and abusive they were being, so i'm currently in the middle of looking for new local friends. i do have a neighbor who cares about me a lot though and i might be able to ask her to attend appointments with me where i feel like i'm unseen

that's really great that your friend is there to help you with that! i did that for one of my first appointments when i was seeking help for my fatigue/fibromyalgia. she did a great job of reasserting what i had been saying to the doctor and not letting him just make assumptions

what i'm going to do is call back the patient advocate for that facility and let them know that i got my surgery done without a hitch elsewhere and that the person who told me that they couldn't do the surgery for me because of my weight need to be reported and honestly fired, because they're doing this to other people, not just me. you shouldn't go into medicine if you are not concerned about improving the health of every patient who comes into your office.

i don't care if they're rude. i don't care if they're homeless. i don't care if they have addictions. i don't care if they are incoherent or in a psychotic episode. i don't care if that person is 600+ lbs- they still need help. as a medical professional you don't get to pick and choose who you help, you don't get to be petty and only want to provide care to rich, skinny white people. everyone needs help eventually

thanks for your kind message i appreciate it!

[kombuuuu]

gwen romantic hcs or scenario please? 🥺🤲

Spidery Romance.

Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader

another bunch of headcanons (and snippets, ur favs) with my favourite girl 🤍

GWENNBBBBB MMMWMAH HHHNG WEBEWEBWEEEHHHH

Gwen: Blue

You: Pink

Dad Stacy: Black

A cat..: Purple

mom friend this, mom friend that

how about just mommy?

is a HUGEE comfort roll in the realtionship

will do little things for you that you wouldn’t even realise

like keeping random containers because she knows you like them

jars 🫙 🤍‼️

she loves taking care of you, loves being who you go to for things

it makes her feel needed, which we know she struggles with

so she loves a partner who’s more co-dependent, like she is

“Baby?”

“Help.”

“Honey, what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Open it, please“ :(

“Oh, you sweet thing… What are you going to do with an empty pickle jar.”

“You’ve eaten all the pickles?”

“I’m… going to grow an ecosystem.”

ABSOLUTELY steals shit for you

she’s not rich, seeing as she doesn’t exacccctly live in her own universe

hey, star crossed lovers are multiversel..

so she steals

just nicks things from the mall she thinks you’ll like

little trinkets or anything small and shiny she can find

also cat figures

small, cute cats. she loves anything about them and will go out of her way to take em for you

(you think she just wants to deny the fact she loves the cats. or stealing)

your OWN little klepto cat

(you both love that game)

“Hey, Sweets.”

“Oh-! You’re home!”

“And I brought a cat.”

*gasp* “What breed !!”

“No clue, but look it’s tail moves.”

Will take you out to movie dates any time she can.

never really knew how to treat a lady so she takes notes from stupid eighties shows

will throw rocks at your window

or climb up the tree next to your house and break in even though she could just go thru the front door.

buys (steals) chocolates in heart shapes and roses to decorate your bed

it’s not even valentines she just wants too

don’t forget the candles and scented bath salts with a whole ass spa set up in your bathroom

“Baby? Wh—“

“[Name]! I missed you.”

“I missed you too, babe.”

“What are the flowers for?”

“Our anniversary’s not ‘til September.”

“Beautiful, we don’ need a reason. Just wanna appreciate you.”

smile and giggle like a little bitch? of course you will

Will eventually tell you about her spider woman endeavours

she’s guilty of hiding it from you

when you trust her so much

slipping out of your shared bed at night to go patrol feels

dirty.

She finally caved to her subconscious and spills it

you don’t freak out on her but she can tell you’re stressed

she tries to comfort you even when you have to opportunity to ruin her life

you could end it between the two of u right then and she’d forgive you

but not herself

“I’m spider-woman.”

“What?”

“The hero, [Name]. Well, vigilante I guess—“

“What the hell.”

“Baby, please. I know I should’ve told you sooner—“

“Do you know how much danger you’re in? Are you crazy? What happens if you get hurt and I’m not here? Fighting crime like that. Fighting villains.”

“I know, sweet girl, I know.”

she comforts you through it while you basically have an existential crisis in her name

you’re more scared she’s going to get hurt

or worse

than you are betrayed,

you can get why she kept this a secret

it takes you a couple week to hone down the worrying

gwen is hella patient with you 🫶

“I don’t like this. You’re putting yourself in harms way, and it’s careless,”

Guilty stare

“,But i’m not gonna stop you.”

“Thank you, [Name].”

“Please don’t die on me.”

“I won’t, baby.”

and when your finally calm you can kind of see the appeal in it

she convinces you to let her swing you around the city

and despite you both knowing you’re probably gonna pass the fuck out

you agree cause it’s cute

“Gwen.”

“Yeah baby?”

“I think—, maybe you don’t understand what I mean by ‘I don’t like heights’.”

“Wh— Oh.”

“What d’yu mean ‘Oh.’?!! You only just realised??”

“I come up here so often, it’s like a second thought!”

“It’s the fucking Empire state!”

“Ehh…”

She’ll take you nice places around brooklyn

mostly high up

to let you see the view

and to finally see you in it

she draws you any chance she gets

especially when she takes you to those places

shes been to em so often that she’s got muscle memory for the line to every building, but now she gets to trace the contour of your face around it too

will web you to the building if you ask

just so you won’t fall

“You know there’s not a single universe where I wouldn’t catch you, right.”

“There’s a first for everything,”

She snorts “Sugar—“

“I love you, Gwen. And trust you with my life. I do not, however trust wind.”

“Understandable, love you too.”

When you meet her dad he’s a little skeptical at first

only because you’re so nervous and he’s taught to be suspicious as a cop

but eventually he likes you, and you him

your both like old pals and it confuses gwen

he takes on a very fatherly position in your life

one you missed out on

gwen is ecstatic

the two people she loves the most in the world like each other

the stars aligned for her

she tells you about her struggles with him and is glad it doesn’t affect either of your relationships

“Do you treat my daughter well?”

“Dad, please.”

“Gwen, it’s okay. I’d like to think I am, sir.”

“Cause if you hurt my little girl, everything you do to her will feel a lot worse for you.”

“Dad!”

“I would never hurt your daughter Mr.Stacy, I love her. It’d be stupid of me to let her go.”

He smiled and clapped your back

*groan* “Why.”

she likes to keep you comfy

kinda has a thing for the housewife vibe

so she’s willing to do a lot for you

she’ll notice how empty it is in your house when she’s not there

it’s quiet and lonely

so totally for you (and not also her)

she’ll get you a cat

a small black american bobtail

she had found him while on patrol

saw a box left littered at the park and decided to pick it up

closer she got, more ‘mews’ she heard.

when she saw a short, stumpy looking kitten in the box

her heart melted

so obviously she took it

“For [Name].”

‘mew :3’

“Co-parenting practice.”

‘mmrp’

“God damn it.”

loves the cat with her whole heart

and so do you

you name it Peter

he’s adopted but he doesn’t need to know that

when he does something bad you threaten (emptily) to put him in back out in the street

“Go get a box, Peter. I’m gonna make your momma put you back where she found you.”

“He can’t understand you, baby.”

“Yes he can, look at how he’s looking at me!”

“See his face!? He’s so mocking me!”

:3

“Sure, baby.”

—

EEE 🤭🤭🤭

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More Nimona headcanons because these dorks have taken over my brain

I feel like Nimona tried really hard to hate Ambrosius

The first month they knew each other Nimona tried so hard to antagonize him and poke fun at him and remind him of the shit he’s done wrong 

But it’s kind of hard to hate someone who’s slow to anger and quick to forgive 

Reminding someone of their past mistakes with the intent to hurt them kind of stops being fun when the person is constantly aware of their mistakes 

And owns up to them without making excuses and is constantly trying to undo the damage their mistakes caused  

After a while, he grows on her and she starts to trust him and in return he trusts her

This one is based heavily on me and my best friends 

Nimona and Ambrosius will talk shit loudly in public 

They won’t use code names and if they don’t know the person they’ll start describing them like “Did you see that dude in the yellow shirt? He just pushed that kid out of line what a dick!”

They won't check to see if the person is out of earshot either they simply don't give a fuck

And this gives Bal so much fucking anxiety enough that he starts pleading with them to stop

You hear them going off about something and Bal saying “Ambrosius love hun sunshine I’m begging you to keep your voice down” 

“Nim Nimona starlight hi I would like to remind you that they’re still behind us and I don’t want to explain to Ambrosius why you’ve gotten into another fight this week so please stop” 

To which Nimona responds with “Tell him he’ll probably laugh”

Whenever Nimona and Ambrosius want to rant they rant to each other 

Because Bal is the type of person to give advice in the middle of a rant 

Talking some “If you explain this to them in a calm and compassionate manner I’m sure they’ll stop”

And while that's excellent advice sometimes you just want to scream your most unhinged thoughts at someone 

And they never judge each other either 

Nimona can look Ambrosius dead in the eyes and go “Have you ever gotten so angry during an argument that you’ve considered lighting their car on fire?” 

And Ambrosius won't even think about it he’ll respond immediately with a “Who hasn't?” while Bal slowly backs out of the room and silently vows to hide his car the next time they fight 

Whenever Ambrosius comes home from a stressful day at work he just walks into the house and lets out the most dramatic drawn out sigh 

And whenever Nimona hears that noise they’ll run to the living room and sit on the couch patiently waiting for their daily rant session 

Whenever Nimona gets home and wants to rant he’ll walk around until he finds Ambrosius

And if he can't find him he’ll sit by Bal and stew in his anger while he waits for him to come home 

He can't even take one step through the door without Nimona saying something like “How dare you make me wait” 

And Ambrosius will always respond with something like “Oh I’m so sorry firecracker it’ll never happen again”

And encourage them to tell him the information they’ve been patiently waiting to spill

Bal doesn’t rant unless he’s literally at the end of his rope

Like you have to royally screw him over for him to go home and rant to his family 

When he finally rants to them they don’t make a big deal out of it 

But they do however try their best to take care of him without raising his suspicions 

Nimona will conveniently make Bal’s favorite dinner 

Ambrosius will just so happen to pick up his favorite dessert on his way home (cause they both know the signs of a Bal rant and they plan accordingly) 

They listen to his rant and let him eat his favorite food in peace while they play his favorite movies 

You know real wholesome shit 

All the while they’re coming up with plans in their head to destroy this person's life

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter XII : Venus

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

A/N: I realized shortly after posting chapter 11 that I’d made a small mistake in the timeline I’m intending this to follow. I included a line from Din saying Paz had already tried to take the Darksaber from him and failed, but where we’re at now, chapter 5 of The Book of Boba Fett hasn’t happened just yet. So I’ve gone back and deleted that small detail from the previous chapter, and why am I even telling you this, idk, but if you guy could do me a solid and pretend to forget my fuck up, I’d love you forever for it. 

Writing Star Wars is hard

Also, the indomitable @dirtysouvenir has rendered the most gorgeous artwork imaginable of Din and Sithy, and I still can’t quite believe my eyes every time I look at it. Everyone please go show Jonis all the love and praise she deserves. 

Anyways… like always, forgive me for the wait. I love you all for being so patient with me. And shout out to chapter four of Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband which served as inspiration for this. You will always be famous to me!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 8.1K

Read on AO3

Tip Jar

CHAPTER XII : VENUS

What are we doing here, and why are our hearts invisible?

Anne Carson, Kinds of Water

“Just like that, yes. Good girl–keep doing what you’re doing.” His hand slides to circle your wrist, leather and the thick weave of your tunic, the slight shake of your nerves caught between. “Grip it firmly, but squeeze it gently. Yes– yes, good. You’re doing so well.”

You suck in a trembling breath, too hyper aware of the feel of his chest plate brushing against your back, the cap of his left knee gently bumping the back of your own, his arms wrapped in a loose and careful cage around your frame where he’s helping you direct the blaster at the target he’d set up several meters away for practicing. He’s got one of your wrists wrapped in the leather of his fist, the other cupping the underside of your elbow to keep your shaking arms steady. 

“I don’t know why I’ve never been very good at this,” you whisper over the sound of the burning desert winds lashing you in the brow. “It’s just never come very easy.”

“That’s alright. That’s why we’re practicing again.” The hand cupping your elbow moves slowly to your waist, all his handling of you these past few days has been so intentional, cautious and patient and aware of himself and you and your reactions. Your heart beats, thumps and thumps hard enough to make you a little dizzy, a little sick. “Keep your right arm firm, but fluid. Try not to lock your elbow, let the recoil move through you steadily.”

He’d covered your hair and face in soft white linen wraps to keep you from being scorched by the sun and sand, and his voice is so deep, head pitched low so that the modulator is vibrating right at the level of your ear, the sounds of him sluicing through the linen to curl around your ear. You shiver again, squeezing your fist too tight around the butt of the blaster. You’d asked him if he’d help you practice just before you’d made planet fall a few hours ago, and now here the two of you are. A few clicks outside of Mos Eisley, he’d found a cluster of sandstacks to land the Crest amidst for a couple hours of target practice—near an area he’d told you is called Beggar’s Canyon. 

You’re not sure if it’s just an excuse to have him touch you, but here you are now, in the circle of his arms, shivering with nerves and heat and want. The sun burns, but the places where he grips you burn worse, and your heart rings in your skull. 

“Focus your gaze between the eyeline, eventually, it’ll come naturally, your aim, but for now, use the field the blaster sets. Squeeze gentle–” He grips your now healed elbow firmly, anchoring your arm, the hand holding your wrist moves to your waist, securing you in his hold so that when you pull the trigger, the zing of the blaster bolt leaving its chamber moves through your limb, into your chest cavity, electrifying your heart, and his hold is steadying all the way through. He’s there to keep you up, keep you strong, and so it’s almost thoughtless when you do it, a gut instinct or some muscle inside your brain desperate to flex and stretch or come awake because faster than you can blink or think, you take hold of that bolt of plasma with your mind, freezing it midway between where the two of you stand and the target he’d set. 

You feel his hands flex around you, but he keeps still and silent, watching, waiting for what you’ll do next. And your heart beats faster and faster, the bright of the sun gleaming and nauseating, refracting off the sand, the plasma, your eyes. The bolt screeches and writhes and defies the laws of nature by your hand, and it does not feel good, but it does feel right. 

The first time you’ve really wielded the Force since the night you escaped. 

There’s something painful and uncomfortable and familiar about it coming back to you. Your breath goes fast within your chest, the taste of the desert on your tongue and the grit of sand sneaking beneath your clothes, sweaty line of anxiety down your spine, and his steady, calm breaths up against your back every other moment, this power inside of you that’s always been the cause of everything bad and only some things good. It vibrates in everything, moves through all living things, the Force, within you, within him. 

“Let it go, cyare. It’s okay if you miss.” You shut your eyes and let it fall away and now it’s not the Force or you or anything else, it’s only him keeping you up against the rest of everything. 

The two of you, like grief and the mountain. 

-

“How did you meet this woman again?” You ask for about the third time, seemingly unable to keep your mouth shut and your nerves to yourself. 

“She’s been keeping up maintenance on the Crest for a while now. And she helped out with the kid, watched him for me a couple times—I trust her.”

“Peli,” you repeat the name contemplatively, taking in the sight of him as he checks the pre-landing codes, flipping switches and punching toggles a little too roughly. He’s agitated, covered and swathed in it. You know he’s worried about you, the way you’ll feel being around someone else, scared you’re still feeling fragile or tired or weak. And you’re accepting it for now because you are. You are tired and you do feel fragile and you do need taking care of. If only for the time being, if only for a little bit longer. A sort of end feels very near, and you’re still working out what that such end is going to be. 

“Peli,” he sighs, hitting the last button and finally swiveling in his chair to face you, and you eye him suspiciously, you know that sigh and head tilt. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Not tired?”

“No.”

“Your shoulder?”

Hurts. “Fine.”

“Cyar’ika.”

“Din.” Another sigh. Another shake of his head. You’re sure he’s rolling his eyes at you beneath that stupid lug of metal he wears on his fat head. But you hope that he’s smiling too, and you give him a soft, small one of your own, twisting your fingers together tightly in your lap. You want to reach out for him, to go to him and sit with him and kiss him again like the other day. But you don’t feel ready again. Again, fragile, tired, a weakness of heart within you that you can’t understand the source of, or you can, but you don’t want to accept it, you want to be able to move on, to get over it, to be like you once were. But that you also know he’ll let you feel for as long as you need to.

“I promise I feel okay, and that I’ll tell you if I don’t.” The target practice had left you tired and awake, and there is something moving inside of you—a recognition of sorts you can’t pinpoint exactly, but which you know is going to show or tell you something about yourself soon, the Force, the things you’d done or the things you’d do. And there’s patience too, a waiting, a readiness to receive whatever this would be without pressure or urgency. You feel entirely strung tight, a knot about to be set loose, entirely at ease, as well. Something strange about the anxiety you carry within yourself, like it doesn’t really matter much anymore and is only waiting for the right moment to be expelled. 

He gives a soft grunt and turns back to face the control panel. The rolling golden sands of Tatooine like an ocean before you, and then there in the distance, the littered smattering of sand blighted little buildings that make up the spaceport of Mos Eisley. He directs the Razor Crest towards Hangar three-five, the ship jostling with the lowering of the landing gear. 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” You ask nervously, following him down the ladder once he’s eased the ship into the landing bay, fretting over this ordeal of having to meet someone else from his life, a friend, which wasn’t even something you were aware he knew how to have. You hear the heavy thud of his boots against the durasteel, and then his hands are circling your waist and pulling you down the rest of the way, paying no mind to your indignant squawking. 

He’d been strange with his touch, as well. As if he couldn’t help himself some moments, overcome by habit and familiarity, and then afraid and cautious in others. And you can’t understand how you feel about this either. Grateful, a sort of soft that makes your eyes smart and your cheeks bleed with heat. He’s so aware of you, so aware of what you might want or need, but then overcome, as well, needing you, wanting you. And you feel so afraid you won’t be able to give him those things—the ones he wants or needs, that you won't be able to find your way back to the way things had been between the two of you before. 

“You’ll be fine,” he says, little compassion to be found for your fretting. You stick your tongue out at the back of his head, rolling your eyes and steeling yourself as he lowers the hatch, and a chirpy little voice calls, Mando!

The plank lowers, and lowers, and lowers, and finally, a mess of springy dark curls come into view. The small woman, Peli, claps her hands excitedly and spreads her arms in wide welcome of him, and something in your heart throbs. 

A friend, indeed. 

“Peli,” he greets her, heavy, swaying gate stomping down the gangplank, voice serious and not all matching her enthusiasm. You roll your eyes at him again as the reverberations of his steps tickle your feet through the soles of your boots. 

“Hey, look everyone! It’s Mando,” she says to the chittering droids whirring around her. You follow him slowly, slinking directly behind him so that the breadth of his shoulders conceals you for a second longer before, “And who do we have here? Another unlikely companion?” 

He pivots, letting you step into full view and brave shyness, a hand coming up to hover around your waist, urging you forward, but not actually touching you. The sound of your name rings in tune to the thump of your heart through the modulator. Careful, so careful, and it makes you hurt at your own self. Wanting to touch you one moment, unable to stop himself from ripping you into his arms; another, afraid, feeling like he can’t even put a gently motioning hand on your body, and how will you ever fix this? How are you going to ever be able to get the two of you back to where you were? 

You take a hurt little step away from him, swallowing the heat in your throat several times before you can force a smile onto your face. 

His body shifts and sways towards your retreating one. 

But the small woman steps towards you, pit droids spinning and skittering frantically around her, and she claps a work hewn hand on your shoulder. “Let Peli take a good look at you.” Her gaze is cheerful, full of a youthfulness that belies her age and an even more cheerful, gap toothed smile. “Pretty girlfriend, Mando.” She waggles her bushy brows up at him. “Brought me another set of bright eyes, didn’t’cha?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Peli.” Your throat feels humiliatingly tight when she takes your hand in her smaller one, giving it a swift shake, no gentleness about the way she handles you, and there’s something comforting about the forsaking of the kid gloves. Your fracture isn’t obvious for the whole world to see, there’s still normalcy to be found for you. 

She looks up at Din as you avoid his burning gaze, laughing scowl on her sunny face. “Who woulda thought you had it in, ya, huh?” She thumps a fist on his chest plate, shaking her head and moves to take a look at the Crest. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Chasing down some elusive bounty? Carbon scoring’s worse than last time.'' She chatters a million miles a minute, pulling out some sort of electric scanner, assessing the old gunship. 

“We had a long trip,” he sighs, hands fisted on his hips as he watches her impatiently, turning his gaze back to your face every few moments. You want to bare your teeth at him in a snarl and tell him to stop fucking worrying. You want him to take you into his arms or hold your hand. 

“Long trip, sure. That’s what he always says,” she tells you over her shoulder with a roll of her eyes. “Turns out it’s usually a gun fight or something just as idiotic.”

You snicker, enjoying the easy way she handles your Mandalorian’s surliness, grateful for the cheerful buffer she provides between your own internal angst and his overzealous worrying. “It was a long trip this time, I swear. We’re coming from the Core,” he grumbles, and the two of you follow her while she inspects the damage on the ship, and in a moment of bravery or desperation for normalcy or closeness or just him, you reach up to grip two of his thick fingers in your fist. His hand immediately adjusts and curves to wrap around yours, intertwining your fingers and taking you securely in his grip. You feel him turn to look down at you questioningly, but you refuse to look back. This is normal, this is how it should be, this is what feels right even if you need the barrier of his gloves to feel like you can breathe. 

“The Core! Long way’s.” Hmm, she muses as she goes. “Got a fuel leak.” Again. He huffs. “Taking a vacation now?” She turns back with another smarmy smirk. 

“Something like that.”

“Nice little honeymoon?” She teases. “I could use one of those myself.” She scans something else, and the pit droids chatter and chirp around her, almost full her height, she’s so small. 

“Peli–” he grumbles. Your grumpy, shy boy; you wonder if he ever blushes under that thing, squeezing his hand in yours as tight as you can. 

“Yeah, yeah. No droids, I know. When are you gonna get over that nonsense, huh Mando? It’s about time, you know!” She bends to inspect something closer near the landing gear, covered in carbon scoring here too, examines her scanner again, then clips it back to her utility belt. “Alright, here’s the deal–” But he cuts her off, pivoting while pulling his blaster in one fluid motion to shoot at a poor little droid that's gotten too close. “Hey! Hey! What’ve I said before? You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it!” She shouts. 

“Din–” you scold, gripping the thick of his arm to pull the weapon down. 

“What’ve I told you?” He barks. 

“No droids. No droids. Blah, blah. You have got to get over that! I’m tryn’a make a deal with you here, ya womp rat.”

He jerks aggressively towards another little droid that wanders too close, sending it skittering away in terror, and you pinch his arm beneath the thick duraweave, frowning up at him, be nice, when he looks down at you, giving him a jut of your eyebrow and thrusting your chin at Peli. He groans, cursing low and grumpy in Mando’a. “Fine. What’s the deal?”

“If you let them work on the Crest–” She jerks her chin at the little pit droids quivering behind the crates strewn about the hangar in abject terror of the mean Mandalorian. 

“No,” he cuts her off, stubbornness in every line of his frame. 

“Din!” You scold again, bumping your hip into his. 

“Come on, Mando! I’ll charge you half price–”

“Deal,” he cuts her off again immediately, the cheapskate. 

“Ha!” She hoots and claps loudly. “Droids! Get to work on this lovely man’s ship. Lemme see the cash.” She holds out a grubby palm, wiggling her fingers. “He’s pretty easy, you ever notice that?” She says to you conspiratorially. 

“Constantly,” you can’t help the laugh in your voice. Your first laugh in what seems like years. 

“Loose knickered is what they used to call it back in my day.” And you have to turn your face into his arm to muffle your cackling, listening to him start up another string of curses beneath the helmet.

“I’ve literally never heard anyone say that before, ever,” he mutters sullenly. 

“Well, you’re young.”

“Not that young,” you provide helpfully, big cheesy smile that feels slightly unnatural and rusted spreading across your face. 

“Whoopee, Mando! I like this one! You really do know how to pick ‘em.” She claps him roughly on the shoulder, her little paw slapping loudly against his pauldron. “Anyway, I’ve got somewhere to be for the next couple of days, you see. I’m dating that Jawa again—the one I’d told you about,” she announces, proud as anything, big smile across her leathery face.

“A Jawa?” You repeat, making sure you heard right. 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, bright eyes. They’re quite furry… very furry, but…” She clicks her teeth together, “You know…” Grins. 

You look up at Din, squeezing his arm in your grip. “Guess I gotta try it.” You’re pretty sure you hear him grumble something to the effect of over my dead body, before he’s agreeing to Peli’s deal with a clap and a shake, and the promise of two hundred and fifty Imperial credits and absolutely no harm done to her droids while she’s gone and they work on the Crest. 

“Treadwell, get in there!” She shouts, and the little pit droid chirps fretfully, trembling behind an R5 unit. “You can’t say no, you’re a droid. Oh, he’s not going to shoot you. Stop being a coward! What is this, a democracy all of a sudden?” Losing the fight, the droid wheels forward to get to work. “Yeah, thought so.” She turns back to you and Din. “You two can stay here, look after the shop while I’m gone? It’ll only be a few days.”

“We have some resupplying to do, but we’ll stay until you’re back,” he promises.

“And you’re not going to shoot my droids?”

“And I’m not going to shoot your droids,” he agrees, but later, you catch the too rough nudge he gives one of the little droids with his boot when he thinks no one’s watching. This man and his droid complex, you roll your eyes. 

“How’s the N-1 keeping up?” He asks as she’s packing up to go. 

“Just how you left her. That honey’s faster than a fathier. You should take her out while you’re here, give that baby a spin. Oh! And I added that turbonic venturi power assimilator I’d mentioned before. Remember? S’how I reconnected with my Jawa,” she nudges you with a wink. “You’re gonna be the fastest ship on the Outer Rim.” 

“You got a new ship?” You ask curiously.

“Just a side project we took up while I had some spare time.” But the way he says it is a little strange, making you pause to look up and try to read the blank face of his helmet. Ah, and he smooths that same hovering hand from before along the line of your spine, an attempt to soothe or quell your curiosity without actually giving you the gift of his touch.  

Peli leaves a few hours later, and she really does have a Jawa lover. The little critter comes to collect her right before the suns set, off to catch the sandcrawler before it journeys off into the desert, leaving you alone with only Din and the little pit droids for company. 

And suddenly, that shyness from earlier is back for some reason. The distraction of travel and the buzz of hyperspace lost to the calm silence of the quiet spaceport as the suns set over the horizon and night settles in, cool winds coming in on the sand gusts from deep in the desert. After hours of work, Din posing as the menacing overlord barking orders and complaints, intruding on their work when it isn’t up to his ridiculous standards, the droids finish up for the night, and Din engages the hangar security system, and then the ship’s, locking the two of you in safely for the night. 

“Dinner?” He asks as he moves slowly around the hull, pulling the cloak from his shoulders, a river of sand sluicing in a rain sheet onto the steel floor. The sound of it has a shiver moving through you as you lower yourself to the floor, crossing your legs beneath you at the edge of your makeshift bed. You desperately want to crawl between the covers without a shower and find the peace of evasion through sleep, secure in the knowledge that he won’t follow you into bed. He’d refused since you’d reunited, even though you’d invited him several times to share the much more comfortable pile of blankets than what you know his pilot’s chair or bunk provide. He’d not taken you up on the offer yet, and right now, fluttering heart and hot eyes and sweating nape, you’re glad for it. 

You don’t know what’s wrong with you—or you do. You’re overwhelmed with want and fear, of him, of his touch, of having lost what the two of you had before. And as you watch him start to pull his armor from his body, first one pauldron, then a vambrace, then a thigh guard, no sense of congruity to the pattern with which he divests himself of his Creed, it’s suddenly like he’s standing right in front of you, and yet you miss him anyway. Miss him in a way that makes you sick and devastated. 

You must make some sort of sound, a funny look on your face or a change in your breathing because he turns suddenly, a too worried, “What’s wrong?” on his tongue. 

“Nothing.” You look up at him from your spot on the ground, head falling back on your neck, and you can feel the wet of your eyes, trying to force yourself not to blink so that they won’t fall—the tears. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He comes to a slow crouch before you, long legs folding down, down. “What is it? Tell me.” Half missing his armor as he poses now, it’s like he’s half him, half yours, half only-man, half Mandalorian. A little bit like what you feel yourself; half, half, half. 

Pulling one glove from his hand, he lifts it, palm spread towards you, showing you his intention before he carefully cups the side of your face; thumb at your pulse, pointer and middle fingers giving your temple a soft pressure, pinky poised at the bridge of your nose. Your lashes brush against his index every time you blink, and his skin is smooth and rough at the same time, and warm—sun-hearted man. 

You press your face harder into his palm, letting him support the weight of your head, nuzzling against the rough of his calluses, blaster blister scratchy against your carotid, and heat pulses all through you from the crown of your head, sliding down the length of your, still yet, too long hair, the back of your neck, your chest, pooling to settle deep in the pit of your belly. 

And yet there’s something missing or different or off, like you feel empty but too full of trepidation to conjure up that old desire you’d always had, that need for him to fill, fill, fill you. Like the heat is there, but it’s remembered, not necessarily present. It all makes you want to cry and scream and go to sleep. 

The truth, and plainly: you’re terrified of anything that might hurt, can’t fathom the idea of it. 

Your heart beats in your throat, you taste it on your tongue, and it mixes with the sad when you say: “Do you remember when we were on Kashyyyk—when we sparred?”

“I remember,” he says, voice deep and low—through the modulator. You hate his helmet. You wish you could get beneath. You wish you were brave enough. The feeling of it coming on sudden and unexpected, thought, bitter and foul and not something you’d necessarily felt before, certainly not so viciously. It’s just that you hate that all this has happened—you want to feel the press of his lips at the crown of your head and the wash of his breath like heat moving through your hair—that you are not in the same place you once were, that you’re too afraid to move forward. 

“When we switched weapons—”

He hums: “Yes.”

“It was so green there.” You turn your face further into him so that you’re speaking into his palm now, words pooling there in the cup of it like a well of truths and fears. 

“It was.” The pointer and index stroke your temple, press once, twice, thrice—harder on the latter. It feels good, it feels real and reminding. He lets a heavy silence pass for a moment, he’s thinking of something, contemplating a push. “Do you remember—” He passes a swallow you can hear the thickness of, “Do you remember how I had you in the dirt—like a fucking animal? How you let me do whatever I wanted, however I wanted.” He gives the hardest press he’s given yet, at your temple, you think you feel the press against your brain, and you open your mouth to let the edge of your teeth dig hard into the meat of his palm. He growls a rough sound, a hungry sound, a sound like one he’d have made when he had you in the dirt like a fucking animal. 

You drag your teeth along the hill of his palm, closing your mouth at the end. You don’t give him the wet of your tongue, you don’t feel ready to taste his skin like that just yet—an assimilation of violence.

“Yes,” you finally say, realizing that he understands what you were thinking without having to say it, or knowing how to, that you’re full of memories of past desires and how badly you want them back and how out of reach that all feels, but also, that suddenly now, in a single blink, the heat in your belly isn’t remembered, but present, alive, awake. That you’re cunt clenches once, twice, thrice around nothing—harder, hungrier on the latter. That you’re wet for him. “I remember.”

“Good. I remember every single thing we’ve ever done.” You roll your face in his palm so that you can look up at him now, feeling something like brave. “Every word, every breath, I remember all of it. Alright?”

“Alright,” you say quietly. 

“And if you need me to help you remember too, then I will.”

“Alright.” And then: “What if I can’t, though?... What if we can’t ever have that again? What if I can’t remember? What if I can never give you that again?” A tear slides over the bridge of your nose, and now it’s not only truths and fears cupped in the palm of his hand but the saltwater of grief too.  

“Then we’ll find something new. A new way, a different way. We’ll do it however you want now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, cyar’ika.” It’s very much a promise, a new Creed being established here. 

“Okay.”

He nods, “Okay.”

-

The water is warm verging on hot verging on scalding. It feels incredible slithering over your tired and sore muscles, the ligatures in your arms still trembling from the blaster practice earlier today, from your overwhelm of emotions. 

You hate that you’re not good at it, that the only weapon that seems to become you is a lightsaber. 

The suds of his earthy smelling soap slide through your hair, slipping down your spine, over your ass and along your legs to pool around your feet and disappear down the drain. You shiver once, as though letting something fall away as you slide your hand down, over the swell of your belly, to cup the palmful of your cunt, wedging your hand between your thighs. You pet slowly at the wet curls there, realizing some of it is also the sticky slick of your desire. You were right, you’re wet for him and your clit pulses, slightly swollen and wanting. Your body is awake and hungry for him for the first time in what feels like eons. 

You explore slowly, your cunt slightly trembling at the feeling of being prodded and touched for the first time in you can’t remember how long. Moaning softly, you pull your fingers from between your legs, hands sliding up now to cup the weights of your breasts in each palm and squeeze tightly. Oh, you want him, you want him, you’re afraid. Your head falls back on a thump against the fresher wall, loud enough that you hear his lurking voice through the door, you okay in there? And instead of being annoyed at his overbearing caution, his hovering, you shiver again, something coming back to you now. 

Your desire. 

You shut the water off, grabbing one of the soft linens he’d slung over the warm pipe for you to wrap yourself in. He knocks a knuckle against the wobbly little door, “Cyar’ika?” 

Looking at yourself in front of the steamy mirror, too long, naiad hair, bright, strange eyes, you want him, you want him, you want to feel alive, awake, anything. You can’t deny your shortcomings, fears, whatever they might be called, but there is yet still a soft place inside of you that they’d not snuffed out, that wants Din still. 

You turn to slide the fresher door open just as he’s readying to knock again. 

He’d showered before you, after he’d fed you your soup and your disgusting fake bread he’d promised he’d find a real substitution for soon enough, and you’d needed a moment alone to sit in your grime and silence, digest your feelings. He’s clad now in one of his soft, dark undershirts, his flight pants and the helmet, opposite your towel and water dewed skin, steaming from the hot fresher. 

You watch a swallow pass through his throat, words caught, slow and heavy. He clears it once, twice, tilts his head down to take in the state of you, before he says, “You alright?”

You nod, wide eyed awake. He’s standing right in front of you and you miss him and you want to shock him wide eyed awake too. “The water was too hot. I got dizzy,” you lie, swaying towards him a little, letting your lashes flutter dramatically. 

Not all the way, but enough, just a little, as much as you can bear, that’s what you want from him right now. 

His hands come up to grip the sides of your arms immediately, his bare hands, soaking up the wet of your skin. He pulls you into himself, pressing you carefully against his chest, and you shiver and shake against him, teeth rattling with a sound entirely lacking temperance. Your blood feels like it’s boiling, there’s desire alive and writhing in your tummy, and you squeeze your thighs together tightly, shifting from one foot to another while you drip a puddle onto the cold floor. 

“Come here, sit down,” he murmurs, gently moving you to your bed, easing you down onto it slowly. “You need to take it easy,” he clucks over you, gripping your elbow to let you down carefully, keeping his hands on your bare skin until the last moment. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re still tired, you’re still recovering. And you never listen. You have to listen to me when I’m trying to take care of you. You don’t eat enough, and I know your shoulder still hurts, little liar. Your elbow is barely better, and I saw you making strange faces when you were walking up the plank the other day. Your hip hurts doesn't it? Or your knee, something. No, don’t answer. I know you’ll just say no.” He talks and talks and talks, and you love him and you think that— 

There’s a name for this…

He’d told you he loved you and he’d not said it again, neither had you, it felt too huge a thing to talk about again just yet while there was still so much left to discuss and bridge, but what does it matter if your body sings or screams in pain when you have the love of this beskar titan? What could you care for all the rest of everything?

Yes, Din. Yes, Din. Whatever you say, Din, as he huffs and puffs and arranges you, brings another pillow and blanket from the bunk, his only one in there, not that he cares, lovely man. 

And it’s not only that you feel like you need to give him the things he wants or needs, because of course you do. You love him, you need to be able to give him things, everything, you want to be able to give him the whole galaxy. But it’s also that you want to. That to give him what he desires is to feed yourself, to live together, to be together, to give each other the things you need to stay alive. 

You let yourself fall back onto the soft blankets slowly, this nest where you’ve always felt so safe and so protected and so loved, even when neither of you knew it was love that was holding you here. And you watch him for a few anxious moments as he pulls the covers this way and that, tucking them here and there, trying to avoid looking at the bare expanse of your dew damp legs. But then, taking hold of his hand, you still his nervous movements, and he finally looks up at your face, letting go of his fretting, taking hold of the bravery in the palm of your hand. 

Shy—but brave. Brave—and wanting. 

“We’ll take care of each other, won’t we?” You want to tell him you love him again, but there’s something slightly terrifying, gloriously intimate and fragile about the words. 

“Always.”

“And we’ll keep each other alive?” Maker, I hope we keep each other alive. 

“Yes.”

You take hold of the edge of the linen covering you, revealing your naked body to him slowly, exposing your soft underbelly. You hear his breath hitch, exhale on a groan that sounds like dying. His grip on your hand goes tight to the point of bone crushing pain for one brief, brief moment before he remembers himself and gentles again. You shiver at the pain, belly swooping and quivering with fear and nausea and lust. 

You wish you could see his eyes, his face, his want. 

“You—” he stutters, swallows, “You don’t have to, my love.” My love. He doesn’t need to say it out loud again now with teeth and tongue, he says it in all the things he does. 

“You have to know that I want you so much. That I want you more than anything, Din.”

“I do know,” he says immediately. “I’ve never doubted that.” 

“I want to show you.”

“You don’t have to. I know—” His other hand comes up to grip yours with both of his, caging your limb within the strength of his fists—to keep himself from touching you anywhere else, you think. But you can feel the intensity of his gaze along your skin, over your bare breasts, quivering with your hitching breaths, water droplets translating the frantic beat of your heart in their trembling on the surface of your skin. The line of your belly, the slope downward to the soft place between your thighs. 

He’d seen the scarring on your hand, it was inevitable as much as you’d wished you could hide the deformity they’d left. As much as you wish you could’ve kept it from him, held an illusion for the rest of your lives together to spare him from the reminder of the things that’d been done, happened, chosen. But now… now he is to be subjected to the whole truth of it. Scars like cobwebs, strangely shimmering in silver lights beneath the surface of your skin—they’d been clever and ingenious in their torture—covering the whole circumference of your left hand up to your elbow. But also, from the lowest point of your last rib, over your right hip, traversing lower down the contours of your skin to wrap around the uppermost swell of your thigh. 

They’d left their mark like they’d intended, and it wasn't something you could ever hide from him, the reality of what’d been done, what you’d chosen. It was obvious in everything, etched into your skin, a chasm in the still present distance between the two of you. 

You feel like a bruise; tender, vulnerable, incongruously desperate to press on it harder and feel that dull throb, dark and ugly and on display. 

His hands go tight around yours again for a moment, before he’s snatching them back to grip his bent knee, white knuckled, silent anger on display when his eyes reach the scarring. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, smoothing a hand over your hip down to your thigh to grip yourself there, digging your fingertips lightly into the plush softness. Your skin vibrates. “It doesn't hurt now.”

“What did they do?” His voice is like gravel, restrained fire-full fury. 

“They wanted to see what it’d take to leave a mark. They figured it out.” The helmet turns away sharply, a short, brutal curse spit from his mouth. The tongue of his mother, beautiful despite his violence. 

“It’s okay, Din.” You take hold of your thigh, pulling it up and apart, spreading yourself for him. Brave, wanting heart, be brave. He turns back immediately. “I want you to see how much I want you,” you whisper. “How much I still need you.” 

You let your fingertips flutter lightly over your swollen, needy sex, and you can hear the obscene, sucking sound of your wet lips spreading apart when you part your legs wide enough for your sex to bloom. Cunt hungry and weeping for him. 

Fuck, he spits, leaning closer, and his hand snaps forward to grip your ankle all the way around, pulling your foot up onto the uncompromising muscle of his thigh—your only point of contact. 

“Show me, cyar’ika. Show me how much that pretty cunt missed me,” he growls. 

You start slow, wide eyes fixed on the dark tee of his vizor, fingertips swirling around your clit slowly, it pulses and throbs and beats to the rhythm you can feel his own heart beating at within his own chest. But you pet it slowly, teasing both of you, and then feel lower down to the clenching mouth of your cunt—fuck, he spits again—slicking your fingers in your sticky wet. You start to rock your hips against the flat of your hand, the sound of your cunt, loud in the quiet hull, nothing to interrupt but the too desperate sound of your mutual panting. His fingers around your ankle are so tight they’ll leave a sore spot, and you can't think of the later hurt now, afraid it'll scare you out of this, all you can focus on is the beat of your cunt, the way it cries for him. 

You swirl your fingertips at your opening, again, again, “Put them inside. Let me see you fuck yourself.” And it’s a demand. 

You start with one, slow and tentative, a little, shocked gasp as you probe shallowly within the tight, little hole. Then further, wiggling inside until you’re impaling yourself with your own small finger, the first thing inside of you in so long, and suddenly, you wish it was him. Your eyes fill with tears at the thought, spilling over at the wish that he could’ve been the first thing inside of you after all this time, but the reality that you’re just not ready for it yet. The salted proof of your inevitable shortcomings slide back along your cheeks to drip into your ears. 

“Another,” he demands. “Oh, it sounds so pretty, little one. Give it another.” You pull your single finger out, sucking, wet-cunt sound that he groans in tune with, to press another one in, mewling at the pinch and stretch of it, the slick slide. Yes, just like that. You’re doing so well, he says, a mirror of his earlier words to you today during target practice. “Roll your hips, ride your hand.” You hitch another sob, “Don’t fucking cry,” he grits, pressing your heel hard into the meat of his thigh. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re going to come for me, you’re going to let me see it.” He spreads his thighs wider in his kneeling crouch, pushing his hips forward into nothing, drawing your gaze to the heavy bulge behind the plaquette of his flight pants. He’s so hard. 

You crook your fingers inside yourself, hill of your palm against the swell of your engorged clit, fingertips against the spongey ridge at the front of your cunt, rolling your hips faster, chasing the orgasm you need to give him. Your foot feels numb in his grip, your cunt, on fire, so tight it hurts. Your belly hitches and heaves, open mouth gasping and you cry his name, moaning and writhing wantonly, your stomach slick and glistening again with sweat now instead of water. One of your palms reaches up to take hold of your breast, nipple caught between your fingers, squeezing tight, tight, tight. And suddenly he’s surging forward, letting go of your ankle to lean over you and rip his pants open, freeing his furious erection. The tip is red-purple and swollen fat, drooling a thick string of sloppy, white precum, and he wraps one massive fist around the angry thing. Din, Din, Din. He beats at his cock furiously, the sound of your name, the slick thwack, thwack, thwack of it sends you spilling into your orgasm, belly pulling tight, cunt twisting even tighter. 

“Fuck, fucking come—fucking come,” he snarls as he twists his fist cruelly around the head and the thick white viscosity of his semen starts to spill from the fat head, bubbling up and over his fist and between his fingers, splattering heavy and hot onto your spasming cunt, coating your fingers so that you’re pushing the thick of his come into yourself, slicking you further. “Yes, yes, yes, like that. Let me fucking see it…Look at what you do to me.” And there's so much furious want in his voice, and he’s so big, long and thick, and you know it’s going to hurt when he puts it inside of you for the first time again—you remember how it hurt before, how you loved it—and you’re afraid you’re not going to be able to handle any sort of pain ever again, not even the sort you’d been so hungry for before. 

But your womb pulls tight, pulses and throbs, and suddenly your two skinny fingers arent enough, you want the thick heft of his cock fucking hard and fast and deep inside of you, punching at the deepest spot within you.

His orgasm ends on a fierce groan, panting, thick chest heaving, his head hangs low between his shoulders. You pull your shaking fingers from your clenching hole, and he gives a few last lazy strokes, squeezing the last drops of come from the slick tip to splatter against your pussy. “I fucking missed this—your cunt covered in me.” His dripping cock bobs so close, and you have the sudden insane thought of him just shoving it in, holding you down prone and fucking all of his spend into your sloppy cunt, forcing you to take it and be his again. “I can’t wait to eat it. I can’t wait to fill it with my come again and eat it out of you.” There’s a part of you that might want it, that might wish for it. 

“Maker, Din…” you moan, rubbing the thick semen into your overstimulated clit, your mound, up the curve of your belly, slicking yourself in him.

 If you can’t have his touch, this is enough, and you bring your sticky, soaking fingers up to your mouth, sucking the come from them. He groans, not fair, sitting back on his knees, spent cock hanging obscenely from his open pants, wet and glistening. He reaches behind his head to tug his shirt up and off, leaving his sweaty chest bare and gleaming. Your eyes flutter shut, cupping your cunt in the palm of your hand, covering the slick curve of it, and you arch your back, spreading your thighs further, putting yourself on display for him. 

“Gorgeous, cyar’ika,” he says between pants. “So pretty, my love.” He reaches down to squeeze his half hard cock once more. “I can be patient for you, I promise. You’re so worth it.”

-

He lays beside you in the dark, stretched out long and entirely clothed, but here with you, forced and convinced to share your bed with a line of pillows as a protective moat between the two of you at his own insistence.

You’re on your side, hands folded beneath your smushed cheek, wide eyes searching fruitlessly for the shape of him in the pitch dark. You want to say something else. You want to tell him you love him again, to hear the words fall from your tongue. 

“What are you thinking?” He asks.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” You hum a barely breathed laugh. And then, “I know you’re scared or regretful or worried that we’ll not get back to where we were,” he reads you.

“Yes.”

There’s a name for this…

He sighs long, goes quiet for longer, and then finally: “What’s happened’s happened, which is an expression of faith in the mechanics of the galaxy.”

“Fate?” You muse, a little unbelieving.

Dark red—

“Call it what you want. We met, we separated…you were—gone. We waited. Now we’re here again. It’s meaningful, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You believe in this—fate?” I didn’t think I believed in anything anymore. But I believe in you.

“Call it what you want, but yes.”

—String. 

There’s something about this that you need to consider, chew on. The fact that you’d felt, all your life, cursed to know how a thing would happen, be, end, always. Something like fate, perhaps, the whisper of it making a home for itself within the shell of your ear, and now the truth that he too believes in this thing you’ve always lived with. Destiny, what have you—you believe in the same things, you believe in each other. 

“Will you hold my hand?”

He turns over, reaching to twine his fingers through yours; large, rough palm against small, soft palm. You want to tell him you love him again, you want to hear the words for him, but they feel trapped, tender, timid. 

You’d always thought your destiny fixed, poised, on the tip of your tongue. A thing was what it was birthed unto the galaxy in perpetuity, and no amount of desire could absolve you of its sunken teeth. But this—this desire is like the creation of myth, that dark red thread that goes by the name of fate being pulled taught, humming in accord with a frequency heard only by the two of you. 

Now: “Will you kiss me?” A beat of silence, his fingers around yours going tight, tight. 

“Come here,” his voice blends with the darkness, and tugging you into himself, protective border between your bodies and his hand around your jaw, he slips a kiss onto your tongue. His mouth holds the hot recollection of being alive; the drag of his teeth against your bottom lip, the taste, your fingers weaving through his hair, your names sounding together, a pair because they belong on the same breath. 

You pull back, and it’s only a small brevity, but it’s enough, and that confusion from earlier, that shiver of letting something go or taking it back into yourself, settles. 

You’re afraid or regretful or both, yes, sure. You also find yourself to be, suddenly, forgiving, full of empathy. You won’t be able to have him unless you take possession of yourself first, and on the tail end of a comet breaking across the sky: I love him, but I must also love myself. He deserves someone who loves themself, but more than that, I deserve it too. To be able to give him the things he wants and needs: I deserve to be in love with myself. 

You let the Tartarian memory become nothing.

 Love manifests itself primarily in forgiveness.

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[elliesbelle]

skinny dipping

ellie williams one-shot

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: it's a wednesday and you go to a coffee shop. you hear the barista call a name: ellie. your ex-girlfriend. after some nonsensical chatter, she asks to catch up. have you both changed or are you still those scared little kids?

content warnings: modern au, ex-girlfriend!ellie, also ex-best friend!ellie, also artist!ellie, also a bit of mean!ellie, ellie and reader are in their mid-20s, cursing, verbal arguments, kind of angst, mention of character death, ellie and reader break-up, non-sexual nudity, minors don't interact

word count: 6.1k

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i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

based on the sabrina carpenter song “skinny dipping”

It’s 8:47 on a Wednesday morning. You’d gotten an early start to your morning and figured you could treat yourself to a cup of coffee. Since you work just around the corner from the coffee place and had a few minutes to spare, you were at your leisure. 

You stand to the side from where the pick-up counter was, patiently waiting for your name and order to be called out. Scrolling through your phone absent-mindedly, your ears suddenly perk up when one of the baristas calls out, “Oat milk latte for, uhhh… Ellie?” 

There’s no chance that it’s actually her. 

But it is. 

You look up from your phone to see a flash of auburn hair. The barista places the oat milk latte on the counter to be picked up by a woman in a simple black t-shirt tucked into dark grey jeans and wearing a pair of old, black Converse. 

The woman mutters a thanks to the barista before turning around to suddenly meet your stunned gaze. Her green eyes mirror the expression on yours. 

“Hi.” Your ex-girlfriend suddenly blurts out. 

“Hi, E-Ellie.” You blurt out right back. 

The sounds of chatter from other patrons and chairs scraping and the cha-ching of the register are all drowned out suddenly as you’re both being pulled into a bubble. 

“Then go, Ellie! Just fucking go!” You screamed. 

“The fuck does it look like I’m doing, huh?” Ellie yelled back, throwing up her hands in frustration before going back to stuffing her belongings from her desk into her backpack. 

“Running away, like you always do!” You responded angrily. “You’re a fucking coward!” 

“Uh, huh, sure.” She scoffed, keeping her back turned to you as she zips up her backpack. 

“Just go back to your fancy fucking college with all your fancy new friends and go ahead and make your pretentious art and forget about all of this!” You said, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face. 

“Yeah, maybe I will!” Ellie retorted, whipping around to look at you. 

“Fine.” You sneered. 

“Fine!” She replied. 

You glared at each other, her angry green eyes meeting yours. 

After a moment of loaded silence, you sniffled, wiped your nose on your sleeve, and shook your head. 

“Well, you can go ahead and forget about me too, then.” You professed, making your way to storm past her and out of the garage. 

Before you reached the doorknob, you felt Ellie’s hand suddenly grab your wrist. 

“Wait,” She said, voice a little softer. 

You kept your eyes focused on the door, knowing that if they met hers once again, you’d beg for forgiveness that you didn’t need to receive from her. 

“Don’t.” You said firmly. You attempted to shake her off, but her grip stayed secure. 

“Let’s just—let’s talk about this.” She said with an attempt at rationality in her voice. 

“I’ve been here the whole time to talk. There’s no point in it anymore. Now let go of me.” 

“Baby—” 

“I’m not your fucking baby, Ellie!” You suddenly yelled, relenting to turn around and say this directly to her face. Her eyes were welling up with tears. 

“Please, I love you.” Ellie pleaded. 

You scoffed. 

“No, you fucking don’t.” You proclaimed. 

You shook off Ellie’s hand from your wrist once you felt her grip loosen. You yanked the door open and ran into the night. 

The flooding of memories is put to a stop when you hear the barista call out your name and order. You jump and so does Ellie. 

Awkwardly, you break the eye contact to walk to the pick-up counter right next to her, reaching out to grab your drink. 

You pull the coffee cup to your chest, as if the heat could radiate comfort through your body. Something within you summons a sliver of courage, so you decide to break the silence and dared look her right in those ocean-green eyes again. 

“How are you?” You mutter, so quiet that you weren’t sure if she heard you. But you were both so close to each other that you swore you could hear her heartbeat. 

“I’m…I’m good.” She mutters right back. 

Ellie surprises you with a tiny smile. You return it with a bashful one of your own. 

“Good.” You say. “I—I didn’t know you were back in town.” 

“Yeah, actually I—” Ellie hesitates for a second. “I moved back last month.” 

“Oh.” You say, shocked. “Oh, wow. I didn’t know that.” 

“Yeah, it was–it was a little sudden. But I’m here.” 

“Right.” You reply, taking a nervous sip of your coffee. 

“Umm, so…how’s your family?” She asks. 

“Oh, they’re…they’re the same.” 

“That’s good. How’s your sister Kiko?” 

You smile, touched that Ellie remembered your little sister. You’re reminded of how close she was with her, how much your little sister looked up to Ellie. 

“Oh, Kiko’s…Kiko. As always.” You say. Ellie smiles. 

“How old is she now?” 

“Turning 19 this month. She just graduated.” 

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing. I feel like she was just 5 years old, like, yesterday.” 

“I know, it’s so crazy. She’s actually taller than me now.” 

“My little dude, taller than you? That can’t be true.” 

“Surreal, right?” 

“That looks awesome, little dude.” Ellie said. 

“Really?” Your little sister Kiko beamed. 

“Yeah! You’ve got talent, kid.” 

You walked into your bedroom, holding a glass of lemonade in one hand. 

“What are you doing in here, Kiko?” You questioned, seeing your sister sitting next to Ellie on your bed with her sketchbook open on Ellie’s lap. 

“I was showing Ellie some of my drawings!” Your sister piped. 

“Oh, yeah?” You said, coming over to sit on Kiko’s other side. You handed Ellie the glass, to which she uttered a quiet thanks. 

“Check it out,” Kiko said, pulling her sketchbook closer to you. “This one is a picture of an apatosaurus eating a leaf.” 

She pointed at a charcoal drawing of a long-necked dinosaur eating from a tree. She flipped the page and pointed at a sketch of a girl who looked roughly the same age as her. 

“This is my friend Peni. I drew it while we were eating lunch the other day, but she said I made her eyes too big.” 

“And I told her to punch Peni for that when she sees her at school on Monday.” Ellie said. 

“Ellie!” You exclaimed, reaching behind Kiko to smack Ellie’s arm. Ellie cackled. 

“She deserves it! Her drawing’s perfect!” Ellie said. 

“Okay, but don’t tell my little sister to resort to violence!” You complained. 

“I think more people should be resorting to violence.” Ellie shrugged. 

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Whatever,” Ellie laughed again. “Show us more, little dude.” 

Your sister enthusiastically flipped through more pages of her sketchbook, describing each of her drawings. You and Ellie listened happily and attentively, Ellie occasionally taking sips of her lemonade. 

“Oh, and this is you guys!” Kiko suddenly exclaimed. She pointed at a half-finished pencil drawing of you and Ellie. 

Your eyes widened and Ellie choked on her lemonade. 

You and Ellie were laying down together on your living room couch, fast asleep. One of Ellie’s arms served as a pillow for your head while the other embraced your hip to pull you closer. Your head was nuzzled in Ellie’s neck, arms wrapped around Ellie’s waist. You were both covered with a throw blanket, and you could catch a glimpse of your feet intertwined with Ellie’s at the end of the couch. Though just a sketch, you could tell that you were both in deep, unencumbered sleep. 

You weren’t sure when it was that Kiko drew this because you and Ellie had fallen asleep with each other countless times. It wasn’t rare for you two to cuddle either; you’d been best friends for a while now and you were very physically comfortable with each other. But something about the way Kiko captured this intimacy on paper felt further than that. It awakened something dormant in you, something you didn’t realize was there in the first place. 

Neither you nor Ellie seemed to know what to say. You both stared at the sketchbook dumbfounded, Ellie not realizing that she had some lemonade dribbling down her chin. Luckily, Kiko didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension in the air. 

“Oh! Hang on, I have to grab my other sketchbook! I’ve got a couple more dinosaur drawings I wanna show you, Ellie!” 

Your sister jumped up and bounded out of your bedroom, leaving her sketchbook in between you and Ellie. 

You continued to stare at your sister’s sketch. Even if you were five years older than her, Kiko was far more artistically talented than you at just the age of 12. 

Your fingers reached out to lightly brush across Ellie’s and your etched faces, but they were suddenly met with Ellie’s own fingers, who had the same idea. You both quickly retracted your hands after accidentally zapping each other as your skin touched hers. 

“Shit, sorry.” Ellie said, breaking the silence. 

“Oh, it’s okay.” You whispered. You tore your eyes away from the drawing to stare at your legs dangling from the bed. 

“That Kiko is a… pretty funny kid, huh?” Ellie said, laughing nervously. 

“Right,” You said. “Well, Kiko is Kiko.” 

“She really is.” 

An awkward silence continued to loom over you two, neither knowing how to break it. This was unchartered territory for you. You usually felt so at ease with your best friend, but something suddenly shifted. And you weren’t sure what it was. 

You eventually looked up at Ellie, who was twiddling her fingers. You noticed her chin still dripping slightly with lemonade. You giggled as Ellie met your eyes. 

“What?” She asked. 

“What is the matter with you?” You laughed, getting up and walking towards your desk. 

“What!” Ellie repeated. 

“You’ve got lemonade on your chin, dummy.” You said, grabbing a kleenex from a tissue box. 

“Oh,” Ellie brought her hand up and felt the wetness. “Shit.” 

She chuckled, grabbing the bottom of her shirt to wipe her face. 

“Hey, no!” You scolded, running over to her to slap her shirt out of her hand. 

“What!” Ellie said, indignant. 

“Were you raised in a barn?” You scoffed, handing Ellie the tissue. 

“Yup,” Ellie replied, accepting it. “Oink, oink.” 

You rolled your eyes and laughed as Ellie cleaned off her face. 

“You are so annoying!” You said, taking your pointer finger to push up the tip of Ellie’s nose, giving it the appearance of a pig’s snout. 

Ellie swatted your finger away playfully, snickering. 

“And yet you still laughed anyway!” 

“Whatever!” 

“Hey,” Ellie said, holding her hands up. “Not my fault I’m a comical genius.” 

“A comical dumbass, maybe.” You rolled your eyes once more. 

“Oh, you love me.” Ellie said, grinning widely. 

You and Ellie both chuckle. You’re surprised to find that you missed the sound of her laughter. 

After a few moments, you both fall silent. You feel heat rushing to your cheeks at the same time that Ellie’s freckles turn pink. Suddenly you don’t feel the need for coffee anymore. Your heart beats like that of a hummingbird and you feel as if you were sweating excessively underneath your short-sleeved button-down. Your lungs feel like they were fully submerged in water. You had to tear your gaze away from those ocean-green eyes. 

It’s Ellie’s courage this time that breaks the silence. 

“Well, uhh. Let her know I say hi, will you?” 

“Y-yeah. Of course.” You say. “And uhh, say hi to your Uncle Tommy and Aunt Maria too.” 

Ellie smiles, but you notice a hint of sadness behind it. 

“Sure.” She says. 

You give her a slight nod. 

Fidgeting with your coffee cup, you feel your chest tighten from the rising awkwardness. 

“Well, uhh, I gotta get to work.” You say. “Umm, it was nice seeing you.” 

You give Ellie a final smile and a wave, whipping around and heading out the door before Ellie could respond. 

The sound of a bell tinkles as you walk through the door of the coffee shop. You take several deep breaths as a million emotions wash over you. You take a sip of your coffee before turning towards the direction of your workplace. But before you could get far, you hear another tinkle of the coffee shop bell. 

“Wait!” You hear Ellie’s voice call out. 

Before you could turn around, you feel fingers wrap around your wrist. You both immediately withdraw your hands as you feel Ellie’s skin accidentally zap yours. 

“Fuck, sorry.” Ellie says apologetically. 

“It’s okay.” You reply, pulling your zapped hand to your swiftly beating chest. 

“Umm,” She begins. “This was really nice. Catching up, I mean.” 

“Y-yeah.” 

“We should…do this on purpose sometime.” She says, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly. An old Ellie habit you recognize. 

“Oh, umm.” You bounce lightly back and forth on your feet. “Yeah. Sure.” 

“Cool beans.” She says, smiling. “Are you free tonight, by any chance?” 

“Oh, I have to stay late at work tonight.” 

“Oh, okay.” She says, her smile faltering. She seems to think you were making up an excuse to flake. 

“But I’m free Friday night!” You say quickly. “I get off at 5:30. But if you aren’t free or if that doesn’t work for you—“ 

Ellie smiles. 

“Friday sounds great. Do you wanna do 6:30 at Raja’s?” 

You grimace slightly. 

“Won’t that be too nostalgic?” 

Ellie chuckles. 

“Maybe, but let’s do it anyway.” She says. Your cheeks feel warm from her sudden boldness. 

“We won’t sit at the same old table or anything,” She says, holding her hands up. “Just dinner. Nothing more.” 

You consider this for a second. 

“Yeah,” You say slowly. “Yeah, okay.” 

Ellie beams, knowing she won you over. 

“Friday at 6:30 then.” 

“Oh, that’s so fucking cool.” You say. 

“Yeah, you think so?” Ellie responds. 

It was Friday at 6:54 in the evening. Ellie was right on time, but you were kept at work longer than expected and were several minutes late. You’d rushed home to drop your work things off and make yourself presentable as quickly as possible for having dinner with your ex-girlfriend, thanking past you for already laying out the outfit you planned on wearing for the meeting. 

The diner was a 10-minute walk from your apartment, but you made it a 6-minute run instead. It had rained the previous day, so you’d nearly slipped several times. But you caught yourself each time, determined to make it in one piece. 

When you arrived, Ellie was already sitting at a booth, drinking water. You arrived completely winded, breathlessly muttering a hundred apologies. Ellie just smiled, telling you to take a deep breath and that it was completely okay. She seemed grateful that you showed up either way. 

After taking generous sips from the glass of water that was already waiting for you, you’d greeted Ellie properly with a smile. She returned it, and now you were both discussing all the tattoos she’s gotten in the past few years. You’d noticed one on her left arm when she pushed the second glass of water towards you. 

“How about the one on your right arm?” You ask. You’d gotten a slight glimpse of it the other day at the coffee shop. 

“Oh, umm.” She says, placing her arm on the table so you could get a better look. She seems almost reluctant to do so. 

You lean in closer, moving your head around to better inspect the ferns that decorated her forearm from different angles. There was something else engraved on top of the ferns that you couldn’t quite make out, but it somehow seemed familiar. Your right hand hovers over the tattoo, an impulse to touch it nearly coming over you. But you keep your fingers to yourself, afraid to cross that line just yet. 

“It’s beautiful, Ellie. Did you design this one yourself?” You ask. 

“No, uhh,” She begins awkwardly. “My ex-girlfriend Cat did.” 

“Oh” was all you said in reply, unwittingly withdrawing your hand. 

“Yeah, uhh. I got it freshman year of college. After…after my dad died.” 

“Oh.” You repeat once more. 

“Y-yeah. It wasn’t the easiest thing to deal with, and Cat thought it would help with like, the grieving process and all.” 

“Right, of course.” You say, feeling remorseful for having brought attention to the topic. 

Ellie begins to unintentionally run her fingers over the tattoo out of nervousness, drawing your eyes to it once more. You suddenly recognize what the final part of the design was. 

“That’s the…the moth. From your old guitar.” 

Ellie looks down at it sadly. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

You’re both drawn into yet another awkward silence. Fiddling with your fingers in your lap, you feel as if an anchor was dropped onto your chest. You’d known that the topic of Joel’s death might come up, but you were nervous nonetheless. 

You look up to see Ellie’s face to find that she was already staring at you. She didn’t look like she was upset with you in any way at all; in fact, it was guilt that flashed across her features. You realize why, and there was an unspoken acknowledgement that you were both thinking about the same thing. 

Ellie withdraws her arm back to her side. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. 

“I know.” You whisper back. 

You were sitting on the couch in Ellie’s makeshift art studio that she’d set up in her garage. You hugged your knees to your chest, rocking back and forth as you drowned in your tears. It had been almost a week since Joel’s funeral and nobody had heard from Ellie. Everyone asked after her during the wake, but neither you nor her Uncle Tommy or Aunt Maria could answer. She hadn’t made it to the funeral, and you were worried. 

It was four months into your freshman year of college. You decided to attend a university closer to home, only a half-hour drive from Jackson. But Ellie chose an art school in Boston after receiving a scholarship, all the way across the country. 

Deciding on a long-distance relationship seemed like a no-brainer when you and Ellie had discussed it after you both graduated high school. You loved each other, both as girlfriends and long-time best friends. It felt as if your love would be able to survive anything. 

The longer that Ellie was away, however, the more difficult it got. Your college was much smaller, compared to hers. You preferred it that way; that was a factor in your choosing to attend. Some of your peers that you grew up with in Jackson were even in a few of your classes, and this eased the anxiety of being away from home. 

But Ellie, a couple thousand miles away, was in a brand new town with brand new faces. You were nervous for her, fearing that she’d be a fish out of water. You knew how awkward she could be sometimes and you worried that she’d get lonely. But after a few weeks of college, she’d made several friends and grew to love Boston. This made you happy, but part of you was sad that you couldn’t experience this milestone in your lives together. 

You’d been inseparable since childhood, growing up together and going to the same schools and having the same friends. Along the way, you’d realized you were in love with each other. It was bliss, to fall in love with the one person you trusted most with your life and to have them love you back. You were both so in sync, even and especially after you started dating. She knew you like the back of her hand, and you knew her the same. 

But as you sat there in Ellie’s garage with only the comfort of your own arms, you started to wonder. You were trying to convince yourself that Ellie was pulling away from you because of Joel’s passing. But all the unanswered phone calls, missed flights to visit home, the growing disinterest in your side of the conversation affirmed that Ellie was becoming someone you no longer knew. You were still where you always were, but Ellie had traveled oceans away from you.  

You had your head buried in your knees when you heard the sound of the door unlocking. As you dropped your legs to the ground, you watched as Ellie entered the garage. She flicked the light on and jumped when she saw your miserable figure sitting on her couch. 

“Oh, fuck!” She yelled. “You scared me, babe.” 

She placed a hand on her chest as if to slow down her rapid heartbeat. 

“Sorry.” You whisper meekly. 

“What are you doing sitting here all alone in the dark?” She asked, walking over to her desk and placing her backpack on top of it. 

You stared at her in disbelief. 

“Where the fuck have you been, Ellie?” You said, ignoring her question. 

“What do you mean? I’ve been around.” She replied, her back towards you as she collected some belongings. 

“You missed Joel’s funeral.” You said bluntly. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.” She said, a little too nonchalantly. 

You watched as she continued to move around the room, rearranging a few things and rifling through drawers. She felt your gaze on her but avoided eye contact with you. 

“He was your father, Ellie.” You said after a few minutes of silence. 

“Adoptive father,” She corrected. “He wasn’t my real dad.” 

“He fucking raised you.” 

“Yeah, well,” She said, placing a few paintbrushes in her backpack. “Look how that turned out.” 

You were exhausted. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Ellie?!” 

She finally turned around to face you. 

“What?” She asked, taken aback by your raised tone. 

“Where the fuck have you been? Why weren’t you at Joel’s funeral? Everyone’s been worried sick about you, wondering where the fuck you went off to. Your Aunt Maria nearly called the cops, but your Uncle Tommy and I had to convince her that you wouldn’t be so stupid to go and get yourself hurt!” 

You’d risen from your seat on the couch now, glaring at her. 

“And now this about Joel? He was your fucking father. I don’t give a fuck what you say! He loved you so much, and it would break his heart to hear you talk about him like this.” 

Tears were streaming down your face as Ellie watched you silently continuing your outrage. 

“I know you need to deal with your grief in your own way. I know you’re sad and need time, but…” You sniffled. “Please don’t shut us out. Don’t push away the people who love you. Joel wouldn’t have wanted this for you.” 

Ellie scoffed, which took you by furious surprise. 

“You don’t know that. He’s gone. It doesn’t matter what he wanted anymore.” 

It felt as if she slapped you right across the face. 

“I’m so fucking sick of this.” She finally said after a moment of silence. 

“What?” 

“I’m sick of this town. I’m sick of the people here. I can’t fucking stand being here for another second. I don’t want this.” 

You stood there shocked, staring at a stranger who looked remarkably like the girl you loved. 

You and Ellie continue to look at each other from opposite ends of the table. She seems as if she wants to say more, to apologize further. But she stops when you give her a forgiving smile. 

“It’s okay.” You say. 

She returns your smile, sadly but with gratitude. 

Your moment of reminiscence is interrupted when your waitress approaches your booth. 

“Oh my goodness, it’s the troublemaking duo!” Your waitress exclaims. “I didn’t know it was you that Ellie was waiting on!” 

Heat rises to your cheeks. 

“Hi, Wendy.” You say, recognizing the old woman. 

“It has been so long since I’ve seen you two together! Oh, and now you’re both so grown up!” Wendy gabbed. “Oh, Ellie, it’s so nice to have you back in town! Your Aunt Maria has been going on and on for weeks about how excited she and Tommy are that you’re moving back!” 

“Yeah, they seem pretty psyched to have me home,” Ellie says, smiling kindly. “It’s good to be back, Wendy.” 

“Maria kept wishing you would move back after you’d graduated college! And I kept telling her, ‘kids gotta get their feet wet first!’ But look at you, back home again finally!” 

“Yeah, Boston was pretty great. But it wasn’t for me, and I really missed Jackson.” 

Wendy smiled at this. 

“Oh, having you two back here like this feels like things never changed. I wish that I knew you were both coming in; otherwise, I would have saved your usual table!” Wendy says, gesturing towards a booth in the corner of the diner. 

You glance over and see a young couple sitting together, holding hands across the table. They were slightly obscured by this old, beat-up jukebox that was playing some old 80s song. 

“Oh, it’s alright, Wendy,” Ellie says, waving her hand. “We’re good here.” 

“Well, okay!” She dips her hand in her apron. “Oh my, I forgot my pen and pad! Oh, and I haven’t even brought you your coffee yet! I swear, I think my brain is slowly spilling out of my ears every day!” 

Ellie laughs and you grimace at the image. 

“Let me go grab those things real quick, and then I’ll take your gals’ order!” Wendy says gleefully. 

“That’d be great.” Ellie replies. 

Wendy beams at both of you before making her way back to behind the counter. 

“Since when did you drink coffee?” You ask Ellie, to which she shrugs. 

“Kind of grew on me back in college. Still have to drink it with tons of sugar and creamer, though.” She says. 

“Ahh, well, that explains the oat milk latte from the other day.” 

“Memorized my order, huh?” She teases. 

Wendy the waitress saves you from your bashfulness by arriving with two coffee cups in one hand and a coffee pot in the other. As Wendy pours into each of your cups, Wendy decides to gush more over the two of you. 

“I was just telling Esther in the back how much we would dread when you two rascals would come in here. I remember how you two would come in and order one milkshake to share and a plate of fries and then pay us with dimes and nickels! Drove us nuts to count it all out!” 

You and Ellie laugh nervously, embarrassed over your childhood antics. 

“And you’d come in here and play that one a-ha! song over and over again if you had any leftover change! Oh, we all got so sick of that song that Raja almost took out the jukebox at one point!” Wendy chortles. 

“Right, “Take on Me” was what we always played,” You recall. “Sorry, Wendy.” 

“Oh, it’s alright,” She says, waving you off. “In fact, someone put that song on the jukebox a few weeks back and it made me miss those good old days.” She sighs, reminiscing. 

Ellie glances at you while you look at Wendy in her reverie. Ellie’s eyes look gentle and affectionate, an expression that hasn’t adorned her face in years. 

“Oh, I do miss you youngsters and your shenanigans. Drove me crazy, but it kept me young. Do you recall when you came in here absolutely sopping wet, Ellie?” 

Ellie blushes suddenly, scratching the back of her neck as her freckles turn pink once more. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry about that.” 

“Oh, you got the floor all wet and dirty, and your usual booth smelled like wet dog for a week!” Wendy cackles. 

“Oh?” You ask. “When was that?” 

“It was back in—” Wendy starts, but another waitress called behind the counter. 

“Wendy, honey! Table 12 spilled orange juice everywhere; can you grab the mop?” 

“Oh darn,” Wendy says. “Let me go take care of this mess real quick, sweethearts! And I’ll be right back for your orders!” 

Wendy walks off quickly and leaves the two of you alone once more. 

You glance at Ellie. 

“When did that happen?” You question curiously. 

“Umm,” Ellie says nervously. “It was that day. At the lake.” 

Your face softens in recognition. 

“Els, come on!!” You yelled, pulling her with you. 

“Dude, no!” 

“Els, 17 is way too old to be afraid of the water!” 

“I am not afraid of the water!” Ellie said, breaking free from your grasp and crossing her arms. 

Joel had dragged you and Ellie with him for a fishing trip by a nearby lake. He’d forgotten his bait box back at his and Ellie’s home, and he left you and Ellie to your own devices while he drove back to grab it. Bored out of your mind, you were trying to convince Ellie to jump into the lake with you from a large rock that oversaw the water. 

“Then you won’t have any problems if I just…” You made the motion of pushing someone. “...throw you into the lake, by any chance?” 

Ellie backed away from you, holding her hands up. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, man,” She said. “I will never, ever forgive you.” 

You groaned then dragged your feet to the edge. You looked over at the lake. 

“It’s not that high of a jump, Els! Come on, Joel and I taught you to swim two summers ago!” 

“Let’s just get back to the shore, dude. He’ll be back any second.” She said. 

“You know Joel won’t be back for another half hour.” You replied, knowing that Joel would find a million other things to do before heading out again. You skipped over to where she stood feet away from the edge of the mini-cliff. 

You grabbed both of her hands in yours. Her breathing hitched when your skin touched hers. 

It had been a month since your little sister unveiled her drawing of you and Ellie sleeping together. Ever since then, Ellie seemed nervous to be near you, much less be touched by you. You were still best friends and still as close as ever, but there’d been a palpable tension in the air after that awkward moment in your bedroom. It was as if you were both just waiting for something to happen, something inevitable. 

“Pretty please, Els?” You asked your best friend, batting your eyelashes at her. She blushed furiously. 

“You’re gonna catch your death if you jump in. It’s chilly.” Ellie said. “And I’m not lending you my jacket if you get your clothes all wet.” 

“Fine.” You said. You release her hands and walk towards the edge once more. Ellie’s eyes widen as you begin shedding your clothing: first, your shoes, then your pants, and finally your shirt. 

Ellie averts her gaze as you were left in just your underwear. 

“Problem solved.” You said boldly. You walk back over to her. 

It wasn’t as if you and Ellie hadn’t seen each other intimately before, having been best friends for many years. But for the last month, she started seeing you in a much different light and looking at you this intimately was opening the floodgates.  

“Come on, Els.” You said, tugging on her shirt. “Take a leap with me.” 

Before Ellie could respond, you sighed and turned away from her to walk back near the water, discarded the rest of your clothing, and jumped off the edge with a scream. 

“Goddamn it.” Ellie said, rushing over to see where you’d dove. She watched as you eventually emerged, ripples reverberating around you. 

“Let’s go, Ellie!” You yelled from the water. 

Ellie backed away from the edge, took a deep breath, and said, “Fuck it.” 

She replicated your actions and took off her clothes, all the way down to her black sports bra and boxers. 

You were swimming around in circles when you saw Ellie’s stark naked figure plummeting into the lake before landing ten feet away from you. You beamed, wading towards her as she rose from underneath. 

“You actually did it!” You exclaimed. Ellie splashed you, lake water getting in your eyes. 

“Ellie!” You whined. 

“You’re the fucking worst!” She said, pouting. 

“You love me!” You said, ribbing. 

“No, you’re the worst, I hate you.” Ellie said, splashing you once more. You splashed her back. 

You both waded closer to the shore until you both felt your toes touch the bottom of the lake. 

“You jumped in for me, you fucking adore me!” You giggled. 

“Oh, please, you wish.” Ellie scoffed before you reached over to squeeze her cheeks together. 

“Hey!” She said, muffled. 

“Don’t deny your love for me, Miss Ellie Williams.” You teased before giggling again as you release her face. 

“Nope, hate you ‘til I die.” Ellie said stubbornly, to which you shove her shoulder.  

“Well, too bad, because I love you!” You said. 

“Uh-huh.” Ellie replied, rolling her eyes. 

She began to turn away from you to paddle towards the shore. 

You take a leap. 

“I do love you.” You suddenly said. 

“Yeah, I know, man.” 

“No, Ellie, I—” You said, stuttering. “I-I love you.” 

She turned back to face you. 

“What?” 

You swam closer to her until your faces were inches apart. 

“I love you, Ellie.” 

Ellie blinked. 

“I—” She began, unsure of what to say. 

“Sorry, I just—I just wanted to tell you that, that’s all.” You whispered, looking down at your submerged and naked figure instead of at her. 

“No, it’s okay, I—” Ellie started once more. “I-I love you too.” 

Your eyes shot up to meet hers. 

“What?” 

“Y-yeah, I—” Ellie began, but she’s cut off when your lips suddenly meet hers. 

It was as if fireworks began erupting within you. As the shock of your kiss wore off, Ellie melted into you as she grabbed your face to draw you closer to her. You wrapped your arms around her neck as she pulled you in tighter. 

No amount of fantasizing could ever prepare you for the euphoria that was kissing Ellie Williams. It was like everything fell into place, like your entire friendship was leading up to this. It felt so foolish that you hadn’t realized this sooner, that you had to wait all this time to let yourself fall in love with your best friend. 

You were both pulled into this bubble where it was just you, Ellie, and the lake. You felt inevitable. 

You broke off, needing to catch your breath. Your foreheads were pressed up against each other, both of you breathless. Your head felt empty but your heart was full. 

Before you could say anything, you felt Ellie’s hands leave your face. Your eyes shoot open to see Ellie already at the shore, bounding towards the rock you’d jumped off from. 

“Ellie!” You called out, but she didn’t respond. 

You watched as she reached the mini-cliff where you’d both left your clothing. You thought for a second that she was going to jump back in, but instead, she was pulling her clothes back on. 

You made your way to the shore, shivering and embracing yourself. 

“Ellie!” You called out again. “Where are you going?!” 

Ellie had pulled on her Converse, quickly tying the laces into knots. Fully dressed, she looked down at you, still bare and exposed. 

You could make out her face from where you were, but you didn’t recognize the look she wore. It wasn’t anger or pity or sadness. You’d never seen her make that expression before. 

You started towards the rock, but Ellie was quicker. She ran off before you even got close to her, dripping lake water behind her and leaving you still at the shore, naked and screaming for her to come back. 

“Oh,” You say. “This is where you came after that?” 

“Yeah,” Ellie replies. “Wasn’t sure where else to go.” 

“I always wondered,” You say. “Cause when Joel got back, we drove back to your house, and you weren’t there. You never said where you’d gone.” 

“Yeah, well. I was just some scared little kid.” She admits. 

“It’s okay,” You reassure. “Me too.” 

You stare once more into the ocean in her eyes. You didn’t mean to bring up the past. You’d wanted to keep this meeting bureaucratic, free from the judgment of yesterday. 

You decide to break the silence with humour. 

“Kind of crazy how you ran away from me real fast.” You giggle, taking a sip of your coffee. 

Ellie doesn’t laugh; instead, she takes a leap and reaches over to your free hand that you’d placed on the table, putting hers over it. 

Your eyes widen as she looks at you in a way that no one else ever has. 

“But I’m not running away now.” She says genuinely. 

You place your cup down and give her a soft smile. 

“Good.” You reply. 

You feel the water finally flow under the bridge. 

author’s notes:

sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda, sabrina propaganda

sorry for teasing this for so long! i have issues

the reader's sister's name is based on my little sister's name kiko :) they're also an artist and currently studying to be an animator!

hope y'all enjoy this! spent so much coming up with the concept and writing about it cause i have such a connection to this song! let me know what you think and reblog if you can ♡

taglist: @digit4lslut, @jajsnjz, @callmelola111, @thatgiraffefromtlou, @gold-dustwomxn, @machetegirl109, @ximtiredx, @fireflyelllie, @brownshirtelliesgf, @sawaagyapong, @uraesthete

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 1.3

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

summary: He mentions her name after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times.

(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)

themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accommodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

He mentions her name in his room after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times. Touya didn't know why he did it. Maybe because remembering his childhood was bringing him too much sorrow he needed a breather from these drowning emotions. He wanted a reminder of why he kept on living, and it was her. The reason he was here doing shitty rehab and therapy.

To be honest, ever since he opened up about the Sekoto Peak incident and the reasons behind his burnt scars, the darkness swallowed a part of him, reminded him that the past will never die and it will prevent him from moving on because he will never become the same Todoroki Touya he was back then. That's why he kind of listened to that devil on his head, urging him to destroy his soul and forget about healing. He will never heal. He will never get that damn redemption.

Todoroki Touya will never be forgiven as long as he lived.

One time, while he was out at the garden, he saw one nurse slip out a stick of cigarette and secretly give it to one of the patients. There it was in its smallest form. Temptation. The reason humans were slaves to vices. Touya could feel his mouth water at the sight. His head was begging him to walk towards the nurse, secretly get buddy-buddy with them, and grab a stick or two.

No, just one. Just one stick. It will be fine. I will not be addicted. Just to release the stress.

He quietly walked towards the nurse, glancing every now and then around him to see if someone will catch him in the act.

Just take it slow and nice, Touya. You can get your relief now if you do it the right way.

He was nearing the nurse when a question popped in his head.

Is she worth one stick, though?

Guilt. It was embracing him like an old friend, cuddling him like they were the bestest of friends.

Is she worth one sip of alcohol, Todoroki Touya?

Is she worth all those violent things in your head?

Hey, Todoroki Touya?

IS SHE?!

He stood there, in the middle of nowhere, contemplating this one bad decision in his life, the one that will alter the course of his direction. Why was he here anyway? Isn't it because of her?

"Do you want to become a better person?"

"Yes."

He grunted, clicking his teeth in annoyance as he walked back inside the facility and headed to his room, making sure his strides were as normal as they could be or else the staff would be following him around and restrain him. When he got inside, he slowly sank on the floor and let out a deep breath, relieved that he got to escape the clutches of the darkness again as sweat rolled down his body.

Of course, he knew the answer.

She was worth more than that. She was worth more than everything. She was fucking worth more than all the damn he could give.

He got up after a few minutes, slumped down in his bed and took out his mp3 player. This time, he played the song she listened to whenever she wanted to sleep. When they first met, she told him she craved someone to sleep beside her, so she would play this song a lot to sleep. It was ridiculous, but he adopted the same habit one day, when she was out for work and there was her vinyl player in the corner of her room.

He hit the play button and forced himself to sleep, whispering her name.

"..."

He smiled.

"... good night."

Drowning away, from the start to the end

Come and take my all away

Words come along to despair

And I'm here craving for your love to save me...

The song plays repeatedly in the background.

------

"She was fresh, white, laundered sheets, and soft skin, and warm smiles."

His therapist was wide-eyed, confused and surprised at Touya's sudden remark, thinking back on their previous sessions if he mentioned a certain woman with these characteristics. So far, the only women Touya had mentioned was his mother and sister. Describing a woman as fresh laundered sheets with soft skin and warm smiles was a lot more than what someone would tell about a family member.

Touya looked out the window. It was a sunny day, the same weather on that day when he noted the scent on her. While he knew he had to tell more about how his alcoholism and cigarette dependence, he just couldn't go on not mentioning her. She was the reason he wanted to change, after all.

"It was the morning after we did it for the first time," Touya absentmindedly continued his tale, unknowingly making his therapist slightly flustered that he would mention a bit of his sex life. "I never touched her despite living with her for the first 2 months, and then I just had the urge, and then... the next morning... she just made sense."

She was covered with the white sheets, her hair loose with a few strands slightly covering her face. Her fair skin was soft in his hands, and he felt afraid of breaking her (even though he had originally planned on ruining her before.) And there was that warm smile again, the one she kept showing to him even though he had no idea what he had done to receive those.

"Good morning, Dabi," she greeted, unaware of his real name at the time. "Is there anything you want for breakfast?"

"I should've asked her if it hurt," Touya realized, "you know... doing it with me and all. She told me before that her shitty ex just took her virginity when they were in high school without making her feel good. I wasn't there, but I would like to think she cried a lot."

"Did you ask her if she cried or was sad about it?" the therapist inquired.

"I am not the best person to say the best words."

The therapist was confused, thinking about the meaning behind his lines.

"What did you say... or do?"

"I... I hugged her, and I..."

"And you... ?"

And I smiled for the first time.

"That's a secret."

"O-Okay." The therapist closed his notebook. "What's her name?"

"Her name is..."

ps. the song he was listening to was Never Again by Karen Aoki (the link is up there for you to listen)

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