#then she goes away for 5-7 years

[kessielrg]

resisting.... urge... to add OC... to... someone else's AU

[whatifitis]

♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.

Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭

WC: 1045

CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff

You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.

Fucker 

It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 

For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 

However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 

Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 

Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 

The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 

Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 

The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 

Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”

As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 

The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 

Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 

What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!

As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 

Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 

The cheeky fuck. 

“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 

“A mattress?” you ask.

“A mattress.” 

After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”

“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 

He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 

“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 

You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 

“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 

Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 

“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 

You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”

“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”

You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 

[just-aake]

A Feline Connection Part 7

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has to face the harsh reality that she can’t help everyone.

Masterlist Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, light fluff

Words: 3790

“Whitney Frost, daughter of Byron Frost—a typical Wall Street tycoon,” Tony’s voice echoes through the phone as he reads out the details FRIDAY managed to dig up.

On Natasha’s screen, she can see multiple files and articles pulled up on Tony’s monitors, the holographic images casting a blue glow on his face as he continues.

“There are plenty of articles about her earlier years. Standard socialite magazine garbage—life of a spoiled rich kid, extravagant parties, lavish vacations. You get the idea.”

Natasha lets out a dry scoff at the irony, her lips curling slightly. 

“Coming from the playboy billionaire who once blew up half of his mansion?”

Tony gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his chest in a wounded gesture. 

“Watch it, Romanoff. I’m helping you here.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha nods. “My bad. Please, continue.”

Tony huffs, turning his attention back to his screens. 

“After her father’s death, she goes dark for a couple of years. No public appearances, no sightings—nothing. Coincidentally, around the same time, reports start cropping up about a new leader rising within one of the East Coast’s major crime families. Descriptions of the leader consistently include one distinct detail: a golden mask, giving them the title–”

“Madame Masque,” Natasha finishes for him, her tone flat.  

“Bingo,” Tony confirms. “Over the years, she’s pulled off some pretty big moves. Arms deals, arson, major heists—she’s dangerous, Nat.”

There’s a shuffle of papers in the background, and Peter’s voice chimes in. 

“I don’t get it, Mr. Stark. If she was already rich, why turn to crime?”

Natasha doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

“It’s not always about money,” she says. “Sometimes it’s just about power and control.” 

A brief silence follows, the weight of her words sinking in. 

Tony’s expression darkens slightly, and even Peter doesn’t offer a rebuttal. They all know Natasha is right. 

People like Whitney thrive on domination, bending others to their will. 

Natasha’s frown deepens, her thoughts drifting back to the night before—the memory of you leaving with Whitney still fresh and raw. She exhales slowly, the sting of hurt in her chest flaring again, though she pushes it down. 

Suddenly, Tony’s voice cuts through the quiet. 

“Okay, I can’t ignore this anymore. What are you doing?” 

Natasha’s brows knit in confusion as she glances at the screen. “What do you mean?”

Tony leans closer to the camera, pointing a finger at her with exaggerated disbelief.

“Why are you bottle-feeding that cat like it’s a baby?”

Natasha pulls Widow closer, cradling the tiny feline protectively against her chest. In her free hand, she holds a small baby bottle filled with water, offering it near the cat’s mouth. 

“She still won’t eat complete meals,” Natasha explains defensively. “At least this way, she’s staying hydrated.” 

Widow lets out a faint, sad meow, turning away from the bottle and burrowing deeper into Natasha’s arm. 

Natasha sighs softly, her expression tinged with disappointment as she looks down at the cat.

Peter’s voice pipes up from off-screen. 

“Miss Romanoff, I could go pick up some different kinds of cat food if you’d like?”

Before Natasha can respond, Tony waves him off. 

“Great idea, kid. Take my card and have at it.”

“Awesome,” Peter replies, his excitement evident as he disappears from view. 

As soon as Peter is gone, Natasha raises an eyebrow at Tony. 

“Was that really a good idea?”

Tony shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “Eh, it’ll be fine.” 

“So, what is it?” Natasha asks knowingly. She can tell Tony got rid of Peter so that he would not hear whatever it is Tony was holding back. 

“Some tough love,” he says bluntly, his relaxed demeanor shifting into something more serious. He leans forward, fixing her with a pointed look. “Look, Nat, if your friend is running with people like Whitney Frost, you might need to face the facts.”

“Which are?” Natasha’s tone grows colder, her jaw tightening.

“She’s a criminal,” Tony states flatly, the words landing like a stone.

Natasha’s frown deepens, the label grating against her as she reflexively clutches Widow a little tighter. “And?” 

Tony sighs, shaking his head as if she’s missing the obvious. 

“You need to start treating her like one.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow. 

“Did you forget I used to be an assassin?” she counters, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

“And now you’re an Avenger,” Tony fires back without missing a beat. “Not everyone’s like you, Nat. Not everyone wants to change.” 

The silence stretches between them, tension simmering as Natasha processes his words.  

Seeing her still hesitant to accept the fact, he adds softly, “You can’t help someone who doesn’t even want it.”

Natasha frowns, her eyes drifting down to the little cat in her arms. She strokes her fur delicately, and Widow returns a faint purr in response, though she still refuses to move much more than that. 

“Send me everything you have on Whitney and Madame Masque,” Natasha says, her determination resolving. 

She’s not going to give up on you so easily.

Tony studies her for a moment, his expression knowing before he sighs and leans back in his chair. 

“Already done.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

A deep sigh escapes Natasha as she rubs her tired eyes, trying to dispel the exhaustion. The hours have stretched into the late night, a glance at the window and then at the clock on her tablet confirming just how much time has passed.

Beside her on the couch, Widow is curled into a small ball, her tiny body seeming to shrink further with every passing moment. 

The meal Natasha had prepared for her earlier sits barely touched—a few nibbles at best.

Though, in her tired mind, Natasha can’t help but let a stray thought creep in: maybe her cooking is bad enough to deter a cat. 

The self-deprecating humor makes her sigh again, a sure sign of just how drained she feels. 

Setting the tablet on the table, Natasha leans back against the armrest of the couch, her head tilting to rest against the cushion. She raises an arm to cover her eyes, allowing herself just a brief reprieve, not planning to sleep but needing the darkness to ease the strain from hours of research. 

For a while, the silence wraps around her like a blanket. 

Natasha focuses on her breathing, the steady rise and fall helping her ground herself. 

Eventually, she debates whether she has it in her to dive back into her work for the night when a sudden movement shifts at her side. 

Tiny paws pad up her torso, and then a soft weight settles against her stomach.

A familiar, distinct meow breaks the quiet—a chirping, happy sound Natasha hasn’t heard from Widow in days. 

She freezes, her body going rigid as suspicion blooms in her chest. Breathing slowly, Natasha tries to maintain her sleeping position so as not to give herself away.

Widow’s sudden shift in mood—it could only mean one thing.

“I know you’re awake,” your voice cuts through the stillness, warm and teasing from just above her.

Realizing she’s caught, Natasha exhales softly with a mix of both relief at your presence but also mild frustration at the fact that you were able to sneak up on her again. 

She removes her arm from her eyes, blinking up to meet your gaze.

You’re leaning casually against the back of the couch, your head tilted and resting atop the cushion, a small smirk on your lips. 

“It’s way too early for you to have fallen asleep,” you tease lightly, your voice carrying that familiar playful lilt. 

Your attention shifts to Widow, who’s now eagerly leaning against the cushion to lick at your outstretched hand. 

“Isn’t that right, Widow?” you coo, your tone softening as you address the little cat.

Widow chirps again, louder this time, in agreement and nuzzles against your hand with obvious affection. 

Natasha can’t help but scoff lightly, shaking her head at the way the two of you seem to operate as a perfect team.

Carefully, she sits up, trying not to disturb Widow perched atop her. 

However, the movement brings her face unintentionally close to yours. She stills as she realizes the proximity, her lips parting slightly as the quip she intended to deliver gets caught in her throat. 

Instead, all that escapes is a soft exhale. 

Your smirk falters, replaced by a small, almost sad smile. Your eyes search hers, lingering as if you can see something more beyond her carefully maintained exterior. 

The intensity of the moment steals Natasha’s breath, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. 

Breaking the tension, you lift a hand into view, holding up a bag of takeout containers.

“I brought dinner,” you say softly, the warmth in your tone cutting through the charged silence.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha sits cross-legged on the couch, a takeout box resting limply on her lap as her attention drifts away from the half-eaten meal inside. 

Instead, her gaze falls on the two of you. 

You’re seated on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, also cross-legged, with Widow nestled comfortably in your lap. 

The little cat looks more content than she has in days, her tiny paws resting on the edge of the table as she eagerly eats the torn-up pieces of meat you prepared for her. 

A wave of relief washes over Natasha at the sight of Widow eating normally again, her movements lively and natural. It eases the knot of worry that’s been sitting in her chest, but as always, her focus inevitably drifts to you. 

It’s a pull she can’t resist, her gaze lingering on the subtle details in your expression, the quiet ease with which you handle the moment. 

Natasha absently stirs the noodles in her box, her mind turning over the question she’s been holding back since you arrived. It gnaws at her, but finding the right way to ask feels like navigating a minefield.

“How…” she begins, her voice hesitant, but the words falter. 

Natasha bites her lip, uncertain whether she has the right to pry into your life any deeper. 

You glance up at her, catching on to the unfinished question. Setting your takeout container on the table, you tilt your head slightly, offering her an easy opening. 

“How am I here?” you ask knowingly, your voice gentle.

Wordlessly, Natasha nods, grateful but wary of the answer.

“You didn’t look at the USB?” you ask, a touch of curiosity in your tone. 

Natasha shakes her head. 

“I was busy worrying about more pressing matters,” she says, her eyes flicking meaningfully to Widow, who’s still munching happily in your lap. “And anyway, it didn’t seem like she wanted me to have it in the first place.” 

You huff lightly at her words, and with an amused shake of your head, you turn Widow to face you, your fingers gently scratching behind her ears. 

“You were supposed to give it to her,” you chide playfully. 

Widow lets out a small, sassy meow, as if to argue her point, and then wiggles free from your grasp. 

Natasha watches with mild curiosity as the little cat pads over to the side table, where the USB has sat untouched for days. Widow grabs the small device in her mouth and trots back toward Natasha. 

Stopping at her side, Widow drops the USB onto Natasha’s lap with a decisive plop before looking up at her with a smug little chirp, her tail swishing behind her. 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with the faintest hint of a smile as she picks up the USB. 

“Thank you,” she remarks dryly, her tone soft but teasing.

Widow lets out a pleased meow, circling once before hopping back into your lap, her little body nestling comfortably against you. 

Natasha’s gaze shifts to the USB, her fingers brushing over its surface thoughtfully, before lifting her eyes to meet yours.

“So,” she says, her tone calm but tinged with curiosity, “what exactly am I going to find on here?” 

You glance down at Widow, stroking her head absently as you answer, your voice steady but carrying an undertone of something more. 

“Whitney had a scheduled meeting out of state with some buyers tonight.” 

At the mention of the other woman, Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, reading between the lines. 

“So this is…?”

“Everything you need to finish your original mission,” you reply evenly, meeting her gaze with a serious expression. “The buyers’ identities, their locations, the details of each weapons deal. Enough to track them down and stop the weapons from being used in the wrong hands.” 

Natasha studies you closely, her sharp instinct catching on to the underlying reason for your sudden assistance in her original mission. 

“To shift my attention from Whitney.” 

Your silence at her pointed remark is telling. 

Natasha’s lips press into a thin line, the unspoken truth hanging between you. She tilts her head, her voice firmer now. 

“Why are you protecting her?” 

You flinch slightly at the accusation, your hand pausing mid-stroke on Widow’s fur. After a moment, you let out a sigh, your gaze drifting downward. 

“You know, it wasn’t always like this between us,” you say quietly. 

Natasha stays silent, letting you continue.

“Her dad—her real dad—was the original leader of the organization,” you explain, your voice tinged with something softer, almost nostalgic. “I met her when she was training to take over his position. Or, rather, she found me. I was just a simple thief back then. But not to her.”

You pause, your hand resuming its slow strokes over Widow’s fur as you collect your thoughts. 

“She made me an offer—something I never expected. Another opportunity for my life. To join her. She saw something in me. Something…more.”

The words hang in the air, and Natasha feels a pang of understanding, recalling her own experience from the past. 

“It felt good,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Having someone look at you like that, like you’re worth something. Like you could be more than you ever thought of yourself.” 

You let out a soft, bitter chuckle. 

“She’s always been good at that. Making you feel special. Like you’re the only one who matters.” 

Natasha’s gaze softens slightly, her arms folding across her chest as she listens. She doesn’t interrupt, sensing the weight behind your words.

“No matter what she did—how far she went—I always found a way to forgive her,” you continue, your tone darkening. “Until I couldn’t anymore.” 

There’s a long pause, the quiet broken only by the faint sounds of Widow’s contented purring. Finally, you lift your gaze to Natasha’s, the vulnerability in your eyes stark, unguarded, and disarming.

“And then I met you,” you say softly, your voice carrying a bittersweet edge. “And for a while, I felt that same thing again. That feeling from the beginning—when it was just lighthearted, fun, and flirty, intoxicating even.”

Natasha’s breath catches, her chest tightening at the quiet admission. The honesty in your words cuts through the usual banter and teasing, leaving her unsure how to respond.

“But I already know how this ends,” you add, your voice softer now, tinged with resignation. “I’ve seen it before. And I can’t…” You trail off, shaking your head slightly, the words left unfinished. 

Natasha watches you closely, her sharp gaze softening despite the weight of your rejection. She leans forward, her voice low but steady in understanding. 

“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.” 

Her tone shifts, gaining a quiet intensity and insistence.

“But you don’t need to stay with her either. We can figure out a way to disengage the bomb without you returning to her. A way to keep you both safe.”

Your gaze lowers, regret flickering in your expression. When you finally speak, your voice is heavy with sorrow.

“I have to go back.”

Natasha’s lips part in protest, her brows knitting together in frustration, but before she can speak, you cut her off, your tone firmer now.

“Not because of the bomb,” you clarify. “But because of what I did to her.”

You rise slowly, retrieving the tablet from the table, its screen still displaying the research Tony sent on Whitney. Sensing the shift, Widow hops into Natasha’s lap, purring softly as Natasha strokes her fur, grounding herself.

Sitting down beside her, you scroll through the files until you find what you’re looking for. Wordlessly, you turn the screen toward her. 

Natasha scans the report, her frown deepening with each line. 

It details a failed raid on a Stark Industries facility, ending in a catastrophic explosion. Operatives were killed or gravely injured. Their leader, however, was not discovered among those found.

“I abandoned her that night,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “None of that would have happened if I had stayed.” 

“You don’t know that,” Natasha counters firmly, her gaze snapping to yours, her hand reaching out instinctively to rest atop yours.

A faint, sad smile tugs at your lips at her touch, and you shake your head slightly.

“I appreciate the thought,” you reply, your voice tinged with bittersweet humor, “but we both know that’s not true—especially considering how I’ve managed to sneak past Stark’s defenses twice now without any problems.”

The smirk you add at the end is small, almost fleeting, but it carries a sting of truth that Natasha can’t ignore.

You’re exceptionally skilled. She can’t deny that.

Your fingers brush hers lightly, tracing the bandages covering her knuckles. A contemplative sadness crosses your face.

Then slowly, you lift her hand to your lips, pressing a soft, almost apologetic kiss against her skin before lowering it back onto Widow’s fur.

“I’m not innocent here, Natasha,” you continue resolutely, your voice low, as if the words are for you as much as for her. “I never was.”

Natasha’s jaw tightens at your words, but she doesn’t interrupt as you continue. 

“I owe her a lot,” you admit, your voice heavy with the weight of your past. “She gave me a chance when no one else did. She saw something in me that I couldn’t. And yet…” Your voice falters slightly, but you press on.  

“I still betrayed her in the end.”

Your gaze shifts to Natasha, your eyes meeting hers with a depth of emotion that makes her chest ache. 

“You deserve more than to wait for me to eventually do the same to you,” you say softly. “More than I already have.” 

Natasha’s chest tightens, the quiet ache spreading as she watches you, her gaze taking in every flicker of pain and regret etched across your features.

But this time, it’s not sadness that rises within her—it’s anger. Not at you, but at everything else.

At Whitney, for manipulating you. At the circumstances that have pushed you to this breaking point. And most of all, at the invisible chains of guilt that hold you hostage, preventing you from seeing a way out.

Her hands twitch, the urge to reach for you almost overwhelming. She wants to close the distance between you, to grasp your shoulders and shake you free from the weight of your past, to tell you that this isn’t your only option.

But she hesitates, her fingers curling into fists as she forces herself to stop.

Forcing you to accept her help, no matter how badly she wants to, would make her no different from Whitney. It would just be another form of control, another pressure you don’t deserve.

And Natasha refuses to become that.

Instead, after a long pause, she speaks with quiet determination.

“What will happen to Widow?” 

You look down at the small cat, curled up peacefully in Natasha’s lap, and sigh. 

“I can’t bring her back with me,” you admit, your voice thick with regret. “But I’ll stay with her as long as I can tonight. Make sure she’s okay, and I’ll explain it to her—let her think it’s like last time, when she stayed with you while I was away.” 

You glance at Natasha, searching for her response. 

“If…you’re still willing to take care of her?”

Natasha straightens slightly, her expression softening as a small smirk forms on her lips.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

Your lips twitch into a faint smile at her answer, gratitude flickering in your eyes. 

But Natasha isn’t done. She leans forward, her tone resolute as her gaze locks onto yours.

“You don’t have to keep punishing yourself,” she says, her words deliberate and carefully chosen. “If you feel guilty about what you’ve done, you can always make it right for yourself. You still have that choice.” 

Her words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, an unspoken plea woven into her steady tone. 

Natasha’s expression holds no judgment, only quiet insistence and something deeper—hope.

The silence that follows feels fragile, as if it could shatter at the wrong move. 

Widow shifts slightly in her lap, her tiny body curling closer as her soft purring fills the space between you. 

It’s a faint sound, but comforting nonetheless, grounding you in a moment that feels far too heavy for words.

For a fleeting second, Natasha sees something in your eyes—an almost imperceptible flicker, as if her words might be reaching you. 

But then your gaze drops, breaking the connection, and the moment slips away. 

Without a word, you gently lift Widow from her lap, cradling her with the same care Natasha has come to associate with you, and rise to your feet. 

Natasha sits up a little straighter, her sharp eyes following your movements as you step toward the hallway, your figure outlined by the dim glow of the room.

“Try to get some rest, Miss Black Widow,” you say softly, your tone steady but carrying a subtle finality that roots her in place. You pause just before disappearing from sight, your head turning slightly as if debating whether to say more.

“You, out of everyone, deserve it.” 

The words linger in the air long after you’ve gone into your bedroom, wrapping around Natasha like a quiet echo. 

She stays where she is, her fingers drifting absentmindedly over the fabric of the couch where you’d been sitting just moments ago, as if tracing the memory of you.

The warmth of your presence is gone, replaced by an emptiness that spreads through the room, making it feel colder, quieter. 

Natasha exhales slowly, leaning back against the couch and staring at the space where you had disappeared from her view. 

She knows you meant those words for her, but the ache in her chest tells her they’re something you’ve denied yourself for far too long. 

“So do you,” she whispers into the empty room, her voice barely audible but filled with a longing that she knows you’ll never let yourself hear.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

a/n: Fair warning, I believe there’s only a couple parts left in this series. But don’t quote me on this cause we all know I’ve never been good at predicting the number of chapters left. Again thanks for reading!

If you asked to be tagged and I missed it or if the tag did not work for you, please let me know.

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[imaginespazzi]

Part 12: Fleeting Moments Of Forever

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15

I let my guard down and you pulled the rug (I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved)

(In which a depressed by recent events author spreads her depression)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint really hard, Hurt with a little bit of comfort if you squint really hard again (basically just squint you guys!)

Words: 12.3K

TW: Swearing (as per usual), a man (ew), brief reference to parental abandonment

A/N: Good morning/night my lovelies <3 Not quite sure what to say when it's one in the morning and I'm slightly delirious but I'm only a couple of hours late with this. There's a lot going on in this chapter and I'm sure I will once again be spammed with asks calling me evil, but remember lovelies, it's for the plot! I will be editing this chapter at some point tomorrow because I just really don't have the energy to edit but I wanted to get this out for you guys by tonight. So if you're reading tonight and see mistakes, please feel free to point them out and I'll fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves!

May 2033

~ A few minutes ago ~

Azzi feels like shit as she runs up the stairs behind her daughter. She feels like a shit mother, she feels like a shit sister-in-law-sort-of-kinda-thing and most of all she feels like a shit ex-girlfriend-turned-complicated-current-situationship-or-whatever. And saying those complicated relationship titles in her head only makes her feel worse. Because really it should’ve been so simple; it had been so simple. And Azzi had chosen to make everything complicated and difficult instead. 

Drew’s words had been like a shot going down wrong, an accusation she knew she deserved but one that stung all the same. Paige’s silence -the fact that she hadn’t been able to give Azzi the assurance that she’d forgiven her- had been like the terrible chaser after that only made her feel more nauseous. And the after effects of it had been Azzi exploding all her feelings on her baby girl who’d just wanted some damn soda.

Letting the guilt fester, Azzi pushes open the door to Paige’s bedroom to find Stephie cuddled up against lavender pillows, one of Paige’s few hoodies that hadn’t made it to the Fudd household draped around her tiny little body. Azzi’s heart constricts at the sound of her daughter’s hiccoughs, tightening even more when she notices the wet patch Stephie’s tears have created against the pillow. 

“Stephie-bean,” she says softly as she climbs onto the bed, reaching out to brush a hand across the little girl’s curled up frame. 

“Go away Mama. I’m mad at you,” Stephie’s petulant reply is immediate as she shrugs off Azzi’s hand, furling away further into herself. 

“I know sweetheart-”

“You yelled at me,” Stephie continues, trying to keep her voice as firm as a five-year old’s can be but it’s too many emotions for such a little soul and Azzi can hear the telltale sign of a fresh new set of tears just waiting to fall. 

She tries again, gently pulling Stephie’s back against her chest and this time, there’s little resistance as the little girl goes easily into her mother’s arms. Azzi tightens her arms around Stephie’s waist, pressing a litany of featherlight kisses into her hair in between apologies, “I’m sorry. Mama’s so sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t’ve yelled like that baby-”

“No you shouldn’t’ve,” Stephie says matter-of-factly, as she turns her body around to face her mother’s and Azzi’s hands instinctively move to wipe away the tears tracks on her face, “you were so loud. I don’t like when you yell.”

“I know bean,” Azzi says, the tight grip of remorse squeezing her heart harder at the melancholy in her daughter’s words, “but Stephie baby you know soda’s bad for you-”

“But it’s Friday Mama and I only wanted a little,” the little girl whines immediately, “I swear Mama I would’ve only had a little bit and then I would brushed my teeth so hard and they’d be sparkling white like this,” she pulls her cheeks wide open so she can bare her pearly white teeth at her mother, “see!”

And despite that heavy pit in her stomach, Azzi can’t help the slight peal of laughter that rumbles throughout her and elicits a matching grin from her daughter. She ruffles the little girl’s hair before pulling her flush against herself, Stephie’s head burrowing itself into the crook of her neck and for the first time tonight, Azzi finally feels like she can breathe again. Because at the end of the day, what matters most is the child wrapped securely in her arms and as long as she has Stephie, Azzi thinks, no matter what, she’ll find a way to survive. For Stephie. 

Something soft and fluffy brushes against her skin and Azzi reluctantly unfocuses from Stephie to find that the arm of the hoodie that had previously been draped over her daughter’s body, is now wrapped around both of them. Paige’s hoodie. She stares at the material, eyes blinking back tears as that wretched feeling of something’s missing whirls around her. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling; this secret craving that Azzi had often found herself hiding away from when she and Stephie were alone. A craving to have Paige there too, a craving for the two of them to be cradled in the blonde’s strong arms, a craving for this almost perfect picture to be complete. And now that she’s had a taste of what it’s like to have that - these past few weeks having felt like a tester of what it could be like to live in a dream that Azzi had thought she was no longer allowed to dream- Azzi wants nothing more than for it to be permanent. 

Another wave of guilt crashes against her as her mind flickers back to the bitter note she’d ended the conversation down stairs on. The stinging emphasis she’d placed on my daughter echoes loudly in her ears and even though Azzi knows that technically she hadn’t said anything untrue, the image of Paige’s face falling -the sparkle in her eyes dimming at the reality of the younger woman’s words- makes Azzi’s heart stutter with regret. There’s a part of her that thinks it’s all happening too fast, a part of her that’s in a constant duel with the rest of herself that’s ready to call Stephie theirs. And she knows it’s only been a couple of weeks -knows that it’s a little insane to have already carved out a place for forever on a shelf that’s plagued with uncertainties- but the truth is that there’s always been an unfilled space in Azzi and Stephie’s world that’s just been waiting for Paige to step in and claim it. It’s always been hers; they’ve always been hers. 

“Mama,” Stephie’s quiet voice mumbles against her chest and Azzi distractedly hums in return, “why does Miss Buecks have to learn to say no to me?”

“Because she likes to say yes a little too much and she definitely likes to say yes to you but if she keeps saying yes all the time, she’s gonna spoil you. Well more than you already are that is,” Azzi teases goodnaturedly, tugging at Stephie’s nose. 

The little girl pouts loudly before indignantly refuting her mother’s statement, “I am not spoiled. I’m a good girl. A very good girl. A very, very, very, very, very-”

‘Okay, okay, okay,” Azzi says, hushing the little girl with a slight laugh before she can continue to repeat herself, “you’re my very good girl who’s just a little bit spoiled.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Stephie admits, scrunching her nose, “but how come you never make Aunty Leen or Aunty J or Aunty Tessie or any of your other teammates say no to me?”

“Because-well,” Azzi struggles to find the words, “Miss Buecks is- she’s just- it’s different and she’s around a lot more,” she’s around all the time, “and so she’s gotta learn to say no to you sometimes.”

“Like Pops had to learn to say no to me if he wanted to keep helping Nana babysit?” Stephie asks earnestly and Azzi laughs at the reminder of how she and Katie had basically had to force Tim into learning how to say no to his persuasive granddaughter. 

“Yeah something like that,” she says with an amused grin. 

“So Miss Buecks is like-” Stephie pauses, hesitating slightly before a soft smile -one that bears an uncanny resemblance to the one her mother sometimes has when thinking of the same woman- appears on her face, “she’s like family?”

Azzi’s breath hitches in her throat; the delicate mix of sincerity and innocence in her daughter’s voice makes her pause. Because Stephie says it like it’s the most simple yet most important truth in the word, that’s it’s common knowledge she’s known all her life. Paige is family. 

“Yeah,” the brunette breathes out finally, the edges of her lips slightly upturning into a grin that matches her daughter’s, “I guess she is.”

Stephie nods quietly as she mulls over her mother’s answer and Azzi can practically see the cogs turning in her brain before her daughter’s dark brown thoughtful eyes look back up at her, “so does that mean we can keep Miss Buecks forever?”

“I-’

“I mean cause you said she’s family right?” Stephie babbles on, ignoring the way Azzi’s eyes have widened considerably, “and family- family is forever right Mama? That’s what they say? So- so if Miss Buecks is family that means she has to stay forever? We get to keep her forever?”

Azzi blinks rapidly at the onslaught of words falling from her daughter’s lips. Stephie makes it sound so simple; she makes a forever with the three of them sound like a given, like something that’s meant to be. And it makes her think of that night eight years ago, when Paige had made it sound just as simple. 

Be mine forever. 

It was Azzi who had made it complicated; obsolete even. 

But, she thinks, she won’t this time. As she looks back down at her daughter, the hopeful smile on Stephie’s face as she awaits Azzi’s answer, feels a little bit like fate is giving her another chance; a clear sky to re-write her own destiny in the stars. This time, with Paige. 

“Do you- do you want that,” Azzi asks slowly, “do you want to keep Miss Buecks forever?”

If possible Stephie’s smile grows even larger as she gives her mother what can only be described as a ‘duh’ look, “of course Mama. I want Miss Buecks forever and ever and ever. You want that too don’t you Mama?”

Azzi pauses for a second, letting herself be immersed in the idea. 

“Yeah,” she says softly, her eyes suddenly misty. And she knows that there’s still so much left unresolved, that tonight had revealed a chiasm of problems they’d have to still build a bridge over to get back to each other. But for a chance at a forever Azzi had thought she’d long forsaken, Azzi’s willing to try, “yeah I think I’d like to keep Miss Buecks forever too.”

The squeal Stephie lets out practically bounces off the walls in tandem with the little girl springing off the bed and Azzi laughs as her daughter wraps her small hands around her mother’s much larger ones, trying to tug her along. 

“Stephie wait sweetheart, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

Stephie sighs impatiently, “we’re going to Miss Buecks, Mama. We can’t just make this decision without her,” she continues matter-of-factly, “we have to tell her.”

“Tell her what Stephie?” Azzi laughs as she finally lets her daughter pull her off the bed and start dragging her out the door. 

“We have to tell her that she’s family and we have to tell her that we want to keep her forever.”

***

They’re about halfway down the stairs when Azzi begins to hear the whispered hissing of an argument between Paige and Drew going on in the kitchen and she feels dread wrap itself around her whole body. It doesn’t take a genius to gauge that it’s likely about her -more specifically about her and Paige’s relationship- and suddenly it feels like something dark has been cast all over her, stomping out the brightness that she’d felt just mere moments ago. 

Azzi hesitates on the last few steps, causing Stephie to impatiently look up at her as she contemplates whether or not to interrupt whatever altercation is going on in the kitchen. For as long as she’d known them, Paige and Drew had never seriously fought but then again, when Azzi had known them, Drew had been a child; a kid who would never have doubted his sister's decision, or Azzi’s for that matter. But the man that had walked into their lives tonight is one that had been witness -perhaps even a victim- to all the terrible decisions the two of them had made in the last eight years. It’s only natural, Azzi thinks, that he’d be wary of their relationship. He’d seen the burn marks that their relationship catching on fire had left on his sister’s skin and it was only natural that he’d blame the woman who’d held the matches. 

“Mama,” Stephie presses as she tugs at Azzi’s hand, “come on,” she whines, “I wanna see Miss Buecks.”

“Steph-” Azzi tries to say, her instincts going haywire when she hears Paige’s voice more clearly now -stop it Drew- but then Stephie pulls hard and she’s practically tripping down the rest of the stairs, trying to keep balance as the little girl holding her hand continues to drag her towards the kitchen. 

They’re still speaking too quietly for Azzi to pick up exactly what they’re saying but there’s a resigned urgency in Drew’s voice and a fearful sadness in Paige’s that makes bile rise at the back of her throat and suddenly Azzi’s very sure that whatever this conversation is, she really doesn’t want to hear it. But her feet keep moving, letting Stephie lead the way as the claws of it takes a second for everything to fall apart sink into her heart. 

“-there’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season,” Azzi hears Drew say as they finally reach the kitchen door and she forces Stephie to a halt. Every part of her is screaming to take her daughter and turn away, to not listen to wherever this conversation she clearly wasn’t meant to hear is going.

“I know,” Paige whispers and Azzi’s heart stutters as she takes in the blonde’s red-rimmed eyes as she leans against the table, “I know.”

Azzi opens her mouth, ready to alert the brother-sister duo of their presence but before she can say anything, Drew’s speaking again and as the words roll out of his mouth, Azzi feels her blood run cold. 

“Stick to the plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

The plan. Liberty. New York. October. 

The words run around in a frenzy through Azzi’s brain creating a mixture of confusion battling with the sense of an unwanted realization that makes her feel dizzy. It’s like someone pricking a needle against the bubble of forever she’d just let herself believe in and there’s a loud pop echoing in her head. The noise hurts. Azzi had known Paige’s contract with GSV was only for a year; she’d even considered -perhaps even expected- that when Paige had signed it, she probably wasn’t planning on staying forever. 

But that was then. 

Surely things would be different now. 

“Miss Buecks,” Azzi’s dragged out of the cacophony of her mind by the sound of her daughter speaking. Stephie’s voice is wracked with fragility as she clings tightly onto her mother’s hand, her face morphed into a combination of betrayal and please tell me i’m wrong as she looks at Paige, whose face has gone ashen at the sight of the two of them standing by the doorway, “you’re moving to New York?”

“Stephie,” Paige whispers, eyes brimming with tears as she falls to her knees in front of the little girl, hand moving to grip her her shoulders, “sweetheart I-”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie says again, her usually boisterous tone replaced by a meek, desperate one, “are you going to New York? Are you- are you,” her voice breaks and the next words come out in a barely there whisper, “are you leaving us?”

Say no, Azzi thinks, please say no, say you aren’t leaving, promise you’d never leave. But as she watches Paige open and close her mouth, choking on air as she tries to give an answer, she knows it’s wishful thinking, knows that it’s a promise Paige isn’t going to make. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s voice is shaking, holding back her tears as tight as she’s holding onto the hope that Paige will give her the answer she wants- the answer she needs, “are you leaving us?”

“I-” Paige bites her lip, hands running up and down Stephie’s shoulder and arms, almost like she’s trying to memorize what it feels like to be able to touch her, almost like, she’s not sure when she'll get the chance to have her this close again again, “I don’t- I don’t know sweetheart I-” 

It’s the wrong answer and Azzi closes her eyes as Paige cuts herself off with a small gasp of air when Stephie rips herself out of the blonde's grasp

“No,” the little girl says harshly, pushing herself behind her mothers legs. 

“Stephie-bean,” Paige says helplessly, looking from the little girl to Azzi. 

“No, no, no, no,” Stephie says; each no is louder than the last, “how you don’t know? You’re an ‘dult. ‘Dults are big. They know everything so how you don't know Miss Buecks?”

“It’s not that simple bean-” Paige tries to say, her hands outstretched towards the little girl, fingers clenching and unclenching like they don’t know how to be still unless they’re clasping onto her. 

“It is,” Stephie yells, “are you leaving us or not? Yes or no Miss Buecks?”

“I-” the blonde splutters, still unsure of what to say. 

“Stephie,” it’s Azzi who cuts Paige off this time, opening her eyes as she bends down in front of her daughter, pulling the little girl into a hug, “baby it’s okay. It’s going to be okay-”

“No it’s not,” Stephie screams as she wrangles herself out of her mother’s grip, the force of it causing Azzi to stumble backwards and something like if you’re going to hold me, hold me forever catches in her throat when Paige instinctively reaches out an arm to wrap around the her waist to keep her steady. The contact makes Azzi shiver and she has to fight the urge to let her shoulders relax, the urge to let herself melt into the warmth that Paige has always exuded.  They stare at each other for a second, Azzi trying to drown herself in the ocean blue of the blonde’s eyes as Paige tries to find some semblance of stability to hold onto in the brunette’s earthy ones. 

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, that one syllable coated in layers of emotions that Azzi thinks she’d be willing to spend an eternity peeling through if it would bring her one step closer to keeping the woman in front of her from leaving, from going to fucking New York. 

“Mama I wanna go home,” Stephie’s adamant voice pierces through the silence and Azzi tears her gaze away from Paige -but not before she can catch a brief glance of the older woman’s face contorting in pain- to look up at her daughter's cloudy face. 

“Stephie-bean,” Paige speaks before Azzi can, heartbreak laced in her tone as she practically pleads with the little girl, “sweetheart please-”

“You promised you’d try to stay” Stephie bursts out, big fat tears cascading down her small face, “do you even rem-ber? At Nana and Pops’s house when I was scared you left you promised you’d try. But you’re not- you’re not even trying to stay Miss Buecks,” the little girl accuses, “you- you- you lied to me Miss Buecks.”

“I didn’t Stephie- I didn’t lie-” Paige tries to explain between her own tears and they’re still pressed so close together that Azzi can feel every shake of the older woman’s body against her own, “I didn’t lie sweetheart. I’m still- I’m still trying-”

“You’re not-”

“I am. I am Stephie. It’s just-” Paige’s eyes flicker towards Azzi who flinches at the unspoken implication, “it’s complicated.”

“Then un-comp-icate it,” Stephie stomps her feet petulantly before a series of heavy sobs wracked her tiny body and she heaves loudly, clutching at her chest. 

Concern floods through Azzi’s veins as she shuffles towards her daughter, still on her knees and Paige follows her lead, the two of them inching closer, “Stephie-”

Something shifts as Stephie looks at the two of them through tear-stained eyelashes; the anger and fight slowly dissolving into the air. And then, if possible, her face crumples even more before she’s falling into Paige’s lap, one arm tightly wrapping around the blonde’s neck as her other hand reaches out to grab onto Azzi’s bicep, binding the three of them together in a mess of limbs on the cold kitchen floor. 

“Please don’t go Miss Buecks,” Stephie wails as Paige clutches the little girl firmly against her chest, her hands brushing through her dark curls as she tries to comfort her, “please, please, please Miss Buecks I don’t want you to go. Don’t go to New York. Please don’t go. Please stay- stay with me and Mama forever. Please Miss Buecks.”

“Stephie-”

“Please don’t leave us Miss Buecks,” Stephie cries, her breathing unnaturally heavy as she shakes in Paige’s arms and Azzi reaches out a hand to soothe her back, trying and failing to keep her own tears at bay. Azzi’s chest tightens as Stephie continues to babble, begging Paige to stay as the blonde continues to hold her, droplets of water streaming down her face as she gently rocks the little girl back and forth. Because despite the way Paige has practically melded Stephie’s little body into her own, Azzi can see the way that the older woman still can’t seem to say the words that the little girl wants to hear, can’t seem to bring herself to guarantee forever. And it feels like the threads of the dream she’d just started weaving, are slipping out of her fingertips. 

Azzi doesn’t know how long they sit there -Stephie still pleading in Paige’s arms and Azzi stroking her back- but eventually her daughter’s words begin to turn into nonsense, her breathing slowly evening out until there’s nothing but silence; the gravity of her emotions having lulled her to sleep. The silence is deafening as Azzi tries to figure out what exactly she should do next, take her daughter and run or succumb to that part of herself that wants to follow Stephie’s lead and beg Paige to never leave them. She still doesn’t quite understand what’s going on, what sort of plan Paige has about moving to New York and if she’s honest with herself, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to know; a part of her that wants to go back to ignorant bliss they’d been living in for the last few weeks. But as she stares at the dried tear tracks staining her daughter’s face -that familiar guilt of all we do is hurt the people around us reverberating between her and Paige- Azzi knows there’s no going back. 

“We should talk,” Paige says finally, her voice small as she looks at Azzi, “please.”

Azzi swallows as she wipes at her tears, ignoring the way Paige’s eyes trace her fingers, like they wish it was her brushing them away instead. She ignores the part of heart that wants that too, wants Paige’s comfort, just wants Paige. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess we should,” she says finally, “but um- I should- um,” she gestures towards Stephie’s sleeping body, “should uh- probably put her to bed first.”

“Right- yeah- yeah of course,” Paige nods awkwardly as Azzi reaches to pry Stephie off of her. 

The little girl lets out a low sleepy whine, her hands tightening around Paige’s neck, “no Miss Buecks don’t let me go.”

“Stephie,” Azzi’s heart breaks at the fear etched on her daughter’s face, despite being fast asleep, at the idea of being taken away from her Miss Buecks. 

“I’ve got you sweetheart,” Paige whispers softly against the little girl’s hair before looking back at Azzi, her eyes swimming with guilt, “I can- I can take her upstairs.”

A part of Azzi wants to say no, wants to start taking out stitches in the places where Stephie and Paige have already sewn themselves together. There’s a part of her that regrets having ever given them the needle in the first place, a part of her that wishes she’d never let her daughter get so attached, when there were so many uncertainties about the strength of the thread between them. 

But instead she says, “fine,” as she follows Paige up the stairs, heart constricting at the softness with which the other woman holds her little girl. 

“Put her in one of the guest rooms,” Azzi calls out quietly when Paigs starts to turn into her own room. 

The blonde stops in her tracks, turning around to face Azzi and she has to look away when she sees the stricken expression on Paige’s face. They were meant to be having a sleepover. The night was supposed to end with the three of them curled in Paige’s bed, supposedly watching some random movie but in actuality, Stephie would have dosed off in the middle of it and Paige and Azzi, with their hands entwined over the little girl’s body, would have spent the rest of it talking about everything and nothing. That’s how it was meant to go; it was meant to have been just another night like any of the other ones they’d spent together the last couple of weeks. But now that normalcy seems like an out of reach fairytale. 

“Az-” Paige tries to argue but there isn’t much fight in it and just the slight defeated shake of Azzi’s head is enough to have the older woman biting her lip and doing as she’s asked.

Azzi hangs back by the doorway as Paige gently places Stephie down on the bed, pulling up the moss green covers over the little girl’s body. It feels wrong, Azzi thinks, as her mind drifts back to a few moments ago when Stephie had been cuddled in Paige’s purple bedsheets; that had felt right, like a place her daughter could truly belong. She shuffles her feet nervously as she watches Paige caress Stephie’s cheeks before pressing her lips against the little girl’s forehead. 

“I love you Miss Buecks,” Azzi hears Stephie mutter and she digs her fingernails into her palms. 

Paige lets out a quiet whimper, shuddering slightly as she echoes the words back, “I love you more Stephie-bean.”

That should be enough, Azzi thinks, it should be enough that Stephie loves Paige and Paige loves Stephie to keep them together. And it’s not fair that it isn’t but if there’s anyone that knows that sometimes love isn’t quite enough to keep two people together, it’s Azzi. There’s too much there, too much history and she’d been naive to think the past wouldn’t cast a dark shadow on her present. 

The walk back downstairs feels like it takes an eternity; like they’re climbing back down from a tall mountain. Azzi walks ahead of Paige and she can feel the blonde’s gaze lingering on her back, can practically feel the tension vibrating off of her body at the prospect of the talk they’re about to have. Drew stands at the bottom of the stairs, nervously pacing with his hands stuffed in his pocket. His eyes move up to meet Azzi’s when she finally reaches the last step and he looks a lot like the little boy who’d once accidentally spilled a glass of water all over one of her favorite books. He has that same guilty look he’d had back then when he’d apologized profusely, swearing he’d save up all his pocket money just to buy her another one.

“I’m sorry,” Drew says in a rush, “I didn’t know you guys were coming back down and I didn’t know Stephie was gonna hear that-any of that. I swear Azzi- you know I wouldn’t have said any of that shit if I knew she was gonna hear-”

“It’s fine Drew,” Azzi reassures him, hesitating slightly before reaching out a hand to gently pat his cheek and she’s relieved when he doesn’t immediately back away, “I know you didn’t mean to.”

Drew lets out a small sigh of relief, “okay good cause I really didn’t. I uh-” his gaze flutters between Paige and Azzi, “I’ll um- I’ll let you guys talk now,” he pauses in front of Paige, who looks about as miserable as Azzi feels, “love you no matter what Paigey,” he whispers before giving her a quick peck on her forehead and squeezing her shoulder. 

And then it’s just the two of them and the heavy burden of everything they can no longer ignore. 

***

April 2027

Azzi grips the armrest tightly, her eyes screwed shut as the plane shakes rapidly while preparing to land. For someone who’s pretty-well travelled and has dealt with her fair share of turbulent plane rides, Azzi still finds herself going ridgid every time an aircraft she’s on starts getting a little too bumpy. She can practically hear Paige’s teasing voice -even after all this time- calling her a big baby but the blonde would have laced their fingers together anyway, distracted her with some random story and she’d have held on to her hand -no matter how sweaty- until the plane stopped moving. 

God, Azzi misses her so fucking much. 

But hopefully she won’t have to for much longer. Azzi’s not quite sure what’ll happen after she lands in Dallas, hasn’t -in a very un-Azzi-like step- even really practiced what she wants to say. But, and she knows it’s a little dramatic but she thinks she can probably come up with a mix of apologizing, begging for forgiveness and declaring her undying love that would atleast get Paige to consider giving her another chance. 

There’s this hollow ache in her chest that hasn’t gone away for the last two years. And Azzi had tried to ignore it, had tried to shift her focus to everything else -everything good- that was happening in her life. But even after she’d had an All-American last season at UConn, even after she’d let that team to a back-to-back national championship, even after she’d been the first pick of the 2026 draft to GSV, even after she’d won rookie of the year, there was a still lingering pain -a deep rooted sense of something she’d lost- etched through her whole body. The thing is that Azzi knows she can survive -can even succeed- without Paige- but she doesn’t want to. Not anymore. 

The decision was a long-time coming, the inevitable leap of faith to chase after what she wanted most in the world. But it had all clicked into place at the most mundane of times. She’d been at the park on her regular morning run and she’d seen a family -two women who’d looked at each other like they’d stop breathing if they looked away and their beautiful baby girl who was happily swinging in between them- and suddenly everything else had felt so insignificant in comparison. She’d been forced to admit the truth she’d been trying so hard to run away from. That was the future Azzi wanted -perhaps not immediately but eventually- and she wanted it with Paige. 

Azzi hadn’t let herself overthink it, knowing that if she gave herself enough time, she’d more than likely talk herself out of it. Instead, she’d booked the tickets from San Francisco to Dallas in a rush and then called Ice -the newly anointed Dallas Wing rookie- and it hadn’t taken much to convince her former teammate - who’d all but squealed at the idea of her ‘parents getting back together’- to pick her up from the airport and drive her straight to Paige’s. 

“She’s gonna be so happy,” Ice had assured her, “I mean I’ve only been here like a week but I know for sure she misses you Az. Oh my god this is so exciting,” and Azzi had laughed as she’d listened to the sound of her friend giddily clapping, “I’m so excited for the two of you. You belong together.”

A serene smile crosses Azzi’s face, and she knows it must look a little ridiculous just smiling to herself like this, but all she can think about is that she’d be with Paige soon. And she’s not naive enough to think that everything would miraculously be okay; she knows just how deeply her rejection must have pierced into Paige’s soul. But if the other woman gives her the chance, Azzi’s ready to spend an eternity making it up to her. 

She sucks in a deep breath as the wheels of the plane collide with the runway, her eyes crinkling slightly as she realizes the weather app had lied to her and instead of the ambient evening she’d expected, it’s torrential downpour outside. In hindsight, maybe that should have been her first sign. But for now, Azzi smiles at the raindrops trickling down the window, clichéd memories of kissing in the rain -”baby come on, it's romantic, who cares if we get sick”- flooding her brain. 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Dallas Fort Worth International Airport. The time outside is currently 7 pm in the evening. We hope you had a good flight and on behalf of Delta Airlines, we wish you a pleasant stay,” the pilot’s voice croons throughout the speakers as Azzi fidgets with her necklace, her last Christmas gift from Paige. 

Just a little while longer baby. I’m coming to you. Forever. 

***

The nerves she’d kept at bay hit Azzi all at once as soon as she climbs into Ice’s car; the thoughts of everything that could possibly go wrong barrage into her mind as she watches the windshield wipers furiously fight against the rain. What if Paige doesn’t wanna see her? What if Paige isn’t willing to give her another chance? What if Paige hates her? 

“Dude,” Ice groans, briefly looking away from the road to flick Azzi’s arm, “I can literally hear you thinking. Chill the fuck out!”

“I’m trying,” Azzi whines, leaning her head against the cool window, “Fuck, Ice what if this is the dumbest shit I’ve ever done in my life? What if she sees me and is like ‘what the fuck are you doing here,’ what if she tells me go home? Oh my god Ice why the fuck did you let me do this?”

“Let you?” Ice splutters indignantly, “oh no no no. You are not putting this on me. You didn’t even let me say anything when you called. It was literally ‘hey Ice, I’m coming to Dallas, make sure you pick me up in 6 hours okay thanks’ and next thing I know you’re in Dallas,” the younger girl mimics the phone-call as Azzi continues to groan. 

“This is why I leave the spontaneous shit up to Paige,” she says, stressfully rubbing her face. 

“Yeah but-” Ice gives her a lopsided grin, her tone softening considerably, “she’s gonna love that you did this for her Az. Trust me dude- the two of you- you’re meant to be. Everyone’s always known that. She’s gonna be so fucking happy to see you.”

“Thank Icey,” Azzi says softly, dragging in another deep breath, “I needed to hear that.”

“Any time Az, any time,” Ice reaches over to squeeze her hand and Azzi finally lets herself relax into her seat. 

The rest of the car ride consists of reminiscing their time at UConn -it’s strange to think that they’re both alums now- and Ice telling Azzi stories about her move from Connecticut to Texas. Anticipation builds in Azzi’s stomach as she glances at the GSP, eyes fixating on the ‘3 minutes till your destination’ bubble on the bottom left corner. 

Her destination. 

Azzi thinks no matter how much she’d tried to fight, no matter how much she’d tried to turn and walk the other way, all roads were always meant to lead here. Paige was always meant to be her final destination. She’s not one for fairytales, doesn’t think life began with once upon a time, but as Ice’s car comes to halt opposite the blonde’s apartment, Azzi hopes that her life has a happily ever after where she and Paige get to write the ending of their stories together. 

“We’re here,” Ice says slowly, smiling ear to ear as she turns towards Azzi, “go get your girl.”

“Okay, okay-” Azzi whispers to herself, “you’ve got this Azzi. Just fall to your knees and tell her you’re sorry and that you love her,” she shoves Ice when the younger girl snorts at her little pep talk and then breathes in deeply, “it’s gonna be okay. I’ve got this. I’ve got this!”

“You’ve got this,” Ice affirms, forever a supportive child.

Taking one more breath, Azzi’s just about to step outside, when she sees her. Paige is walking, almost running towards her apartment. Despite the rain, in typical Paige-fashion, the blonde doesn’t have an umbrella. Strands of wet hair are plastered against her forehead and little droplets of rain cascade down her face and neck. Her shirt sticks to her body so that Azzi can see the definition of her abs and the younger woman would love to take a moment to appreciate just how fucking hot Paige looks but instead, her eyes follow the bulge of the blonde’s biceps down to where her hands are interlocked with someone else’s. Someone else who’s not Azzi. 

She gasps for air but she swears it’s carbon dioxide that settles in her lungs instead because god, does it burn. 

Paige is laughing, eyes twinkling as she and a beautiful woman -a beautiful woman who isn’t Azzi- race to get out of the rain. She hears Ice curse behind her, sounding just as confused as she feels as the two of them watch the scene unfold in front of them, watching Paige and the woman come to halt right in front of the blonde’s apartment building. 

“Az maybe we should-”

“Who is that?” Azzi cuts Ice off, her eyes still transfixed on the two smiling women. 

Ice sighs, “her name’s Olivia. She’s a reporter for the Dallas Morning News-”

“And who is she to Paige?” Azzi asks bitterly, as if she doesn’t know the answer, as if the way Paige is wrapping an arm around that woman’s waist isn’t enough of an answer in itself. 

“I don’t know. Azzi I swear I didn’t know she had a-” Ice hesitates, “she hasn’t told me anything about another woman. 

Azzi doesn’t say anything, hand tightly gripping the car door she hadn’t even had a chance to open as she watches Paige brush a loose strand of hair out of the woman’s face. 

The tip of the dagger pierces against her heart. 

The woman smiles at Paige as she wraps her arms around the blonde’s neck and now they’re pressed flush against each other, barely any space between them. 

The dagger digs deeper. 

Paige caresses the woman’s cheeks. 

The dagger twists. 

It happens in slow motion; Paige moving ever so slowly as she presses her lips against the woman’s. 

And the dagger lodges itself somewhere so deep inside Azzi, she thinks it might be permanently entrenched inside her soul. 

It’s funny, Azzi thinks as she watches the two women break apart -their hands intertwining again as they start walking into the apartment- anyone else watching this scene would perhaps think of it as something straight out of a romantic comedy. But to Azzi, it feels like the climax scene of a tragedy. 

“Can you take me back to the airport?” she says slowly, still watching Paige’s retreating back. 

“What- no Azzi I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ice disagrees immediately, “c’mon we’ll go back to my place and I swear I have some good vodka left over from my housewarming party-”

“Ice please,” Azzi begs, her voice hoarse, “I just wanna go home. Please.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you say Azzi,” Ice concedes softly, already starting to pull away from the curb.

“You can’t tell her about this, you know that right?” 

“Az-”

“No Ice. She’s moved on and she’s allowed to move on,” the words feel like thorns on the tip of her tongue, “she looks happy. I won’t ruin that. You can’t tell her. You can’t ever tell her.”

“Fine,” Ice nods reluctantly, “I won’t say anything.”

Azzi allows herself one more look back at the apartment, allows herself one more second to dream of Paige running back outside, spotting her and telling her that all of this is just one big misunderstanding, telling her that she hasn’t found someone else, telling her that she’s still Azzi’s. But dreams aren’t reality. No, reality is the fact that Paige looked happy, looked happy with someone that wasn’t Azzi. And even if that damn fucking dagger -sharpened with the image of Paige and someone else- is making her bleed out, Azzi thinks that her heart will still a find way to keep beating, as long as she knows that Paige is happy. 

*** 

The almost two thousand dollar last-minute flight back to San Francisco passes by in a blur. Azzi feels like she’s sleep-walking as she gets into the uber, pressing play on a voice message Ice had left her from after she’d gotten on the plane. 

“Azzi please text or call me as soon as you land. I’m really worried about you dude. I’m so fucking sorry. I had no idea. I texted Adam after -he’s a team manager that’s really close with Paige- and I guess she and Olivia have been dating since the end of the season last year but Paige is keeping it highkey on the DL like the team barely knows and I swear Az- I didn’t know. Fuck please don’t do anything stupid Azzi. Text me as soon as you hear this and then just- just go home and sleep and call me tomorrow morning. I love you Az, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Since the end of the season, Azzi thinks slowly, her brain still a fuddled mess. That meant that Paige had been with someone for almost eight months. And Azzi knows she has no right to feel this hurt, let alone feel that tiny spark of betrayal that’s lingering underneath it. She’s the one that had let go; it’s only natural that Paige would eventually find someone else to hold on to. 

“Where to Miss?” the uber driver asks as Azzi’s typing out a short ‘landed’ text to Ice. 

It’s almost two in the morning and sleep prickles against Azzi’s eyes, her body feeling barely functional but the urge to just forget is stronger than the wave of tiredness washing over her body. And so she ignores every good instinct she has and instead of giving the cab drive her home address, Azzi tells him to drive to the nearest bar instead. 

It’s a heat-of-the-moment decision -taken as sordid images of Paige wrapped around another woman cloud her ability to think- and she doesn’t know it’s about to change the trajectory of her whole life.

***

May 2033 

The silence in the living room is deafening as Paige and Azzi find themselves sitting on opposite sides of the sofa. Azzi’s fingers tap against her thighs; resisting the impulse to reach over and touch the other girl, comfort her and be comforted in return. This night has felt like one of the longest in her life, all the hits falling like dominoes with the two of them at the end of the line. And perhaps it’s the way she’s starting to feel the bruises now as she absorbs everything that’s happened tonight that has her thinking fuck it and turning to Paige with a pleading look on her face. 

“Can you just-” Azzi hesitates as she scooches just slightly closer to the other woman who regards the movement with wide eyes, “I know- I know we have to talk and we will but I just- it’s been a long night and I’m just so fucking tired and I just- I miss you-” she says and she’s not sure how it’s possible when Paige has been here the whole night but it’s the truth, “and I just- can you just hold me? Please?”

Paige is so still that for a moment Azzi thinks maybe she’s asked for too much but then the older woman is moving -so fast like she’s scared the brunette will change her mind- and Azzi feels herself being lifted sideways onto Paige’s lap. The blonde’s grip is iron tight as Azzi buries her head into the crevice of her neck, breathing in the smell of all things Paige. She reaches her hand out gently, placing it against the older woman’s chest, trying to stabilize the two of them to the steady beat of Paige’s heart as the other woman rubs her hand up and down Azzi’s back. They stay like that for god knows how long and Azzi wishes she could just keep them like this forever, in each other’s arms. 

But they need to talk. 

And Azzi reluctantly untangles herself Paige, closing her eyes when the blonde lets out a soft whimper. She doesn’t move all the way to the other end of the sofa this time; choosing instead to sit right next to Paige with their legs pressed togethers and it’s not nearly enough -too little when all she wants is to be consumed by Paige-  but at least it’s something. 

“I was going to tell you tonight,” Paige starts slowly, “you remember in the car when I said I would explain the whole Angie thing to you, well that- that’s part of this whole mess.”

Azzi furrows her eyebrows, “Angie? What does- what does she have to do with this?”

“I’ll get there okay- just- just let me start from the beginning,” Paige says nervously, “just listen okay.”

Biting her lip, Azzi nods, signaling for the older woman to continue. 

“I didn’t want to come to GSV-”

“Because of me?”

Paige sighs, “yes. It- it just- it felt like such a bad idea at the time. You broke my heart Az,” she shoots Azzi an apologetic look when she flinches at the bluntness of it, “and coming here- being around you- I was scared it was gonna be a reminder of that all the time. Every time I’ve seen you these last couple of years Az- it’s hurt. And I just didn’t- I couldn’t live with that every day.”

It’s not something Azzi wants to here but she understands it; she’d felt the exact same way when Colleen had first told her about GSV being interested in Paige. 

“But more than anything,” Paige continues, “I was scared that coming here meant giving you a chance to do it again. Because the two of us being together for more than just a fleeting moment- well it felt inevitable that something would happen and I was just so scared that it would be something bad. And so I fought Talia every step of the way until she forced me to come here and I met Stephie,” a soft smile flitters across the blonde’s face, “and she just- she said I’d look good in purple.”

Azzi laughs, “and that’s all it took huh?”

“You know me. A little bit of flattery will get you everywhere,” Paige grins, “but it wasn’t just her,” she nudges Azzi, “it was you. I was so sure you were gonna tell me to turn it down, tell me that there was no way this was gonna work. But you didn’t. You’re always surprising me I guess. Baby you said you wanted me on your team and that was it for me. No matter how much I said I needed time to think or whatever, as soon as you asked me to come here, I knew I was a Valkyrie.”

“I lied to Colleen that it was for the team,” Azzi admits, “think I even lied to myself about it that I wanted you here to help us win a championship. And yeah maybe that was a little bit of it but I just-” she looks down shyly at her lap, “I just wanted you. Here. With me.”

They’re quiet for a little bit, letting their confession dangle in the air until Azzi breaks it, her mind back to focusing on the revelation from before, “I don’t get it then Paige- what was Drew talking about then? What is this whole plan thing with the Liberty? Being in New York by October? I know your contract is for a year but I just-” she shrugs, “I just assumed you were gonna renew with us so where- where does New York even come into play in all of this? I’m just- I’m just so confused.”

Paige chews at her bottom lip and fidgets with her fingers, two tell-tale signs of her nerves as she keep her gaze firmly away from meeting Azzi’s, “I guess- I guess all my fighting against GSV got through to Talia and after I’d made up my mind to sign with the Valkyries, she- she figured out a verbal deal with the Liberty. They didn’t- they didn’t have the money for me this year but next year with Sabrina retiring- next year they will and GSV knew they were gonna get Angie to be their point guard of the future and it all just- it all made sense. I’d stay here for a year, mentor Angie so she could be my replacement for next year and then I’d-” 

“Then you’d leave,” Azzi says bitterly and this time it’s Paige who flinches, “but you said- you said Stephie and I convinced you to come here- so- so what? We only convinced you to come for a year?” she asks, her tone sharper than she intended it to be. 

“No it wasn’t- it wasn’t like that,” Paige tries to justify, “I just- it scared me how easy it was for me to be convinced. It was one moment with Stephie- one moment with you- and I was ready to make a decision for my future based just off of those two little moments. Do you know how scary that is? And I knew- I knew that coming here- being around the two of you would just- it would make me fall so fucking fast -and it has- and I was just so scared that I’d get my heart broken again and I just- I needed an escape plan.”

“You needed an excuse to leave us,” Azzi says venomously. 

“That’s not fair Azzi,” Paige says quietly, “you have to understand how afraid I was of history repeat itself Az,” she reaches for the younger woman’s hand, enveloping it between her own, “when I lost you the first time, I was so fucking broken and it took me so long to fix myself- I- I don’t even know if I did ever fully fix me. You can’t blame me for being scared of having to go through it again.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before she finally lets out a sigh because Paige is right and she can’t- she won’t hold whatever decision the other woman had made before they’d found their way back to each other, against her. 

“Okay. Okay. I- I get it. I get why you were scared. I get why you had a whole backup plan and-,” she grins teasingly at the blonde, “and now I also get why you were such a bitch to Angie.”

Paige laughs a little, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s and closing her eyes, letting themselves melt into a comfortable silence as they bask in each other’s presence and for a moment’s Azzi feels floaty and free until Drew’s words replay themselves inside her head. 

“Paige,” she says slowly, earning a little hum of acknowledgement from the other woman, “it’s over now though right? The deal- you- you’re gonna tell the Liberty that it’s off? No more New York right? Not even as an escape plan?”

The blonde stiffens, her eyes opening immediately. 

“Paige,” Azzi presses, lifting her forehead so she can study the older woman’s face properly,  the false comfort of a few seconds ago being replaced by a leaden pit in her stomach. 

“I- I don’t know,” Paige whispers, so quietly that it takes a couple of seconds for Azzi’s ears to even pick it up. But when it does finally register -the repeat of what she’d said to Stephie-  it feels like something’s slowly cracking inside Azzi, until the cracks get larger and larger and something shatters, the pieces of it lodging themselves in every organ of her body.

“You don’t-” Azzi swallows, pulling her hands out Paige’s, “you don’t know?”

“Az-”

“No,” Azzi holds her hand out in a stop sign as Paige tries to grab for her, “how- how can you not know,” she keeps speaking even when the blonde tries to reply, “Paige you- you were the one who pushed for this. You were the one who begged- who convinced me to try. Why- why would you do that? What have we been doing for the last few weeks Paige if you’re still thinking about leaving at the end of the season? God Paige- how can you even say that you don’t know?”

“I thought I did,” Paige bumbles out, “these past few weeks have been everything to me Azzi and I thought I knew but tonight- everything Drew said-” she stops suddenly and Azzi knows whatever the young man had said isn't something Paige wants to repeat back to her. 

“What did Drew say?”

Paige hesitates, “he thinks you’re gonna break my heart and that I’ll lose you and that I’ll-” she clutches her throat like the next words are physically painful to say, “that I’ll lose Stephie.”

“And you- you think he’s right?”

There’s heartbreak etched all over Paige’s face as she shrugs helplessly, “you’ve done it before Az. You let me go. You- you said no-”

“And you’re one who left,” Azzi bursts out, tears cascading down her face as she rises to her feet. 

Paige guffaws up at her, “what?”

“I know I said no but you left literally the next fucking day before I could say anything else. God Paige, I know I fucked up and I know that it’s mainly my fault. Trust me I’ve regretted it every single day,” Azzi sobs, “but you- you left Paige. I know I let you go but you didn’t hold on to me either. You just- you left.”

“Azzi-”

“I understand why you had an escape plan before,” Azzi says, wiping away her tears, “but I can’t be with you if you still have one now. Especially not when Stephie’s involved. She’s already so fucking attached and if you can’t promise not to leave her then I- I can’t let her get anymore attached. I can’t watch my baby girl cry like she did tonight- not again Paige.”

“Azzi,” Paige says again, like it's the only word she knows; the only word that matters. 

Azzi falls to her knees in front of the other woman, wrapping her hands around Paige’s tightly wounded fists. 

“I get that you’re scared and I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel like heartbreak is inevitable with me,” she presses a kiss against the blonde’s knuckles, “but Paige I- I can’t- live like this, I can’t live knowing that you could leave me -leave us- any second. I need you to trust me, I need you to believe in us and I need you to tell me you’ll stay. And if you can’t do that then-”

“Please don’t say it,” Paige breathes out, her shoulders radiating with tension. 

Azzi stands back up slowly, delicately placing her lips against the  older woman’s forehead. She feels Paige shudder under her touch as she tries to put every little bit of emotion, every little bit of please choose me, please choose us, please choose to stay, into that kiss. 

“Just- just think about it- sleep on it I guess. Take your time Paige but I- I need more than ‘I don’t know’ as an answer,” she says finally, the words lingering between them as she brushes away a couple of strands of the blonde’s hair before letting out a sigh as she puts some space between them, “I should go.”

Paige’s fingers immediately wrap around her wrist as the other woman blinks up at Azzi with pleading eyes, “don’t go-”

“Paige-”

“It’s late. Stephie’s asleep. Just- just stay.”

You stay, Azzi wants to scream because how can Paige ask her to do the one thing that the older woman herself is scared to do. But she’s exhausted and driving home -to a house that’s entrenched with the memories of the last few weeks but wouldn’t have Paige in it- sounds like something dreadful. And so she nods, shooting Paige another longing look before she heads towards the staircase. 

“Az,” she hears the other woman call out just as she’s about to climb onto the first step, making her stop and turn her head over her shoulder. 

“Yeah?”

“You know right? You know that- that I-” Paige gulps, “you know that I lo-”

“No,” Azzi says immediately, shaking her head rapidly, “say it to me when you can tell me you’ll stay.”

*** 

May 2027 

Azzi taps her foot incessantly against the hardwood floor as her gaze nervously flitters towards the front of the restaurant, where a man in a light blue polo shirt and dark jeans has just walked in, his own eyes scanning the premises in search of someone. She has the ridiculous urge to shrink in her seat, to hide away from his wandering eyesight as if he’s not the reason she’s here in the first place. Taking a deep breath and counting to ten Mississippis, Azzi finally raises her hand, trying to wave him over. 

“Tristan,” she calls out, attempting to arrange her features into a smile to match his when the man in question finally spots her. 

“Hey,” Tristan choruses, his eyes twinkling as he slips into the seat opposite Azzi, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda shocked you called. Not that I’m not happy- I mean, who wouldn’t be happy if a pretty girl called but I- I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Azzi tries to give him a humorous grin, “so you just gave me your number expecting nothing?”

She’s trying to make a joke but it comes out flat and she hopes he can’t read just how uncomfortable she is; won’t call her out for the uneasiness that she knows is radiating off of her. 

“Expecting? No. Hoping? Definitely,” Tristan smirks and Azzi’s reminded of the charm he’d exuded that night in the bar. 

The memory makes her want to throw up- well she supposes it’s probably not just the memory but also her little situation. She regards the man in front of her warily; he’s not bad to look at and at first glance he doesn’t exude any major red flags. And she’s almost ready to give her way-too-fucking-drunk past self a pat on the back because she'd made multiple dumb-as-fuck decisions that night -exhibit a: fucking a random stranger in a bar while mourning her ex- but at least she’d had the sense not to choose a complete psychopath. 

“Well I called,” she announces awkwardly. 

Tristan raises an eyebrow, “it’s been a whole month.”

Azzi bites her lip, “better late than never?”

The man in front of her snorts, “I suppose so but honestly I wasn’t expecting you to call at all. I mean- I figured you’d have gotten back together with your ex.”

That causes Azzi to suck in a sharp breath, her fingers digging crescent shaped scars into her palms. 

“I mean,” Tristan continues, oblivious to the way his words cut into the woman in front of him, “you just- you sounded like you really loved her and the way you talked about your relationship- it just- it sounded so perfect and I know I don’t know her and I know- I know you mentioned she was seeing someone else but you just- your relationship like- that shit sounded unbeatable and so I just- I guess I just assumed that if you wanted her back-  she’d want you back-”

“She’s engaged,” Azzi says loudly and it would be comical how quickly that shuts Tristan up if it wasn’t for the fact that saying those words out loud, feels like shooting an arrow into her own heart. She can still see the engagement announcement floating behind her eyes; can still so clearly see the pictures of Paige down on one knee for a woman who was beaming down at her, for someone who had said yes. 

“Oh,” Tristan’s saved from having to say anything more when the waiter appears with a menu. 

“What can I get you guys today?” the waitress asks cheerfully. 

“Just the salmon for me please,” Azzi says, still a little lost in her thoughts. 

“And for you sir?” the waitress turns to Tristan after jotting down Azzi’s order. 

“I will have the chicken with a waldorf salad on the side but with no nuts please; I’m allergic to most nuts,” Tristan responds politely as the waitress nods and starts to walk away but it’s the last part that perks Azzi’s ears up. 

“You’re allergic to nuts? Is that like- is that genetic?” she asks. 

Tristan seems a little taken back by her curiosity of his allergy but he nods his head yeah and Azzi pencils that little fact into her brain, figuring it would be an important tidbit to share with her doctor. 

“So your ex is engaged,” Tristan repeats, looking apologetic when his bluntness makes Azzi flinch but it’s replaced by a smirk as he lounges back in his seat, “so you called me for what? A rebound? I mean look Az, you’re a gorgeous girl but only being called for a rebound might just give a guy a complex.”

She knows he’s trying to be suave -charming even- but instead all it does is give her the ick and Azzi’s reminded of why she’d avoided men since her mistake of a boyfriend back in her senior year of high school. Hell, she’d only dated him because she and Paige had been trying their hands at another attempt of being just friends and the blonde was dating some pretty girl. But he’d been the first and last man she’d ever been with -which wasn’t surprising considering it had taken her and Paige only a year after to finally get together- until that night at the bar. 

Azzi barely remembers anything about that night beyond flashes of memories but she remembers the morning after clearly, remembers the regret that had coiled itself around her ribs. She’d practically run out of the hotel room, barely managing to keep the tears at bay in the back of the uber. She hadn’t even made it to her bedroom, breaking down in the middle of her living room floor as everything that had happened the night before -seeing Paige with someone else, being with someone else- hit her like an avalanche. Azzi doesn’t know how long she’d sat in a sobbing mess on the floor but at some point she must have fallen asleep, because her next memory is Colleen towering over her, a look of pure concern on her bestfriend’s face as she shook her awake. And then she was crying again, this time wrapped in the comfort of Colleen’s arm as she let the regret of all her mistakes -from the past and the present- flow down her cheeks. 

All she’d wanted after, was to just forget about the night -forget the image of Paige kissing a stranger, forget the image of herself walking up next to a stranger- and for a little while, the world had even granted her that wish. That was until a mandatory pre-season checkup had given her news that would make sure she’d never forget that night. 

“Azzi?” Tristan clicks his fingers in front of her face to get her attention, “you still with me?”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to come back to reality instead of staying lost in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she finally puts into words the truth that has become the epicenter of her world. 

“I’m pregnant.”

Tristan stares at her with a shell-shocked look on his face, his eyes unblinking and wide as his mouth slowly morphs into a ‘O’ shape, “you’re- you’re pregnant?”

“Yes,” Azzi nods, her tone shifting from nervous into something more businesslike, “and before you ask, yes it’s definitely yours. But you don’t have to feel pressured to be involved beyond whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m more than financially capable of taking care of a child by myself and I’m very lucky to have a great support system in my friends and family so I’m not depending on you for any-”

“You’re keeping it?” Tristan cuts her off, sounding almost disbelieving that, that was the choice she was making. 

Azzi stops at his words, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She’d gone back and forth with the decision from the minute she’d found out. Most of the factors in Azzi’s life pointed towards an abortion being the best thing for her. She was an athlete at the beginning of the peak of her career and she was only 25 years old, a young adult who’d just started this journey of life. For all her responsibleness, Azzi was still figuring out how to take care of herself. How could she possibly take care of a baby? 

She’d been just about to call Dr. Myers when instead her phone had opened to the instagram app; Paige’s engagement announcement the first thing on her feed. 

There’d been a thousand and one emotions that burst through Azzi but she’d fixated specifically one of them; loneliness. It was a ridiculous thing to feel for a girl whose family had moved across the country for her; whose best friend had become her manager and followed her to a brand new state. But Azzi felt it every time she was alone, sometimes even when she was surrounded by hundreds of people. She was so fucking lonely. 

And that’s when she’d decided she wanted this baby, a baby she could love and a baby who’d love her back, a baby who would fill this aching whole in her heart. A baby that would be hers. 

Azzi would never be lonely again. 

“Yes,” she answers Tristan’s question without a hint of hesitation, “I’m keeping the baby.”

“Wow- okay- this is- sorry,” Tristan shakes his head, his previous casual demeanour having changed to something far more rigid, “this is just- it’s a lot to process.”

“I understand,” Azzi says gently, “take your time.”

Tristant stares down at the table for what feels like an eternity and when he looks up, well, Azzi doesn’t really know the man in front of her at all- hasn’t even had the chance to ask him his last name, but she knows what the guilt in his eyes means. She remembers seeing it when she’d met her own biological father, only once, only for an hour and never again but a snapshot of it has been saved to her brain ever since. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, standing up from the table, “I can’t do this. I’m not ready to be a father. I can’t have a baby. Fuck me. I’m barely an adult. I can’t take care of a child. I’m sorry, I just- I can’t.”

“I understand,” Azzi replies clinically even though her stomach lurches a little at the rejection, at the realization that her child would grow up with the ever-present question of why didn’t he stay, just like she had. 

Azzi hadn’t called Tristan for lunch with the intent of getting anything out of it. The plan had simply been to do her due diligence by telling the father of her child that she was pregnant. After that, the decision would be in his hands and she’d made peace with the fact this -what had just happened- could be one of the outcomes. She hadn’t come here under the guise of reconnecting, finding a husband or any of that, not when, even thinking of any of that -despite the fact that Paige is engaged to someone else- feels a little bit like cheating. But Tristan's response still stings. 

Because he might not have been her first option to raise a child with-really she’d only ever wanted any of that with one person- but Azzi thinks if he’d wanted to try, she would’ve liked having a partner to watch her child grow up with

“I’m sorry. I’m really, really, really sorry,” Tristan repeats again as he starts to back away, “I wish you-” his eyes flicker down to her stomach, “I wish both of you the best.”

Azzi nods, “thank you,” and the words of gratitude are for a little more than just his best wishes. 

Tristan pauses for one second, hesitating as he looks at Azzi's belly one more time with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes, something a little like regret. But it’s not enough to make him stay and Azzi watches, with a hand on her stomach, as he turns walks out of the restaurant. Through the window, she watches him walking down the street, getting smaller and smaller until he rounds the curb, disappearing out of sight. And Azzi lets out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. 

“Oh,” her head snaps towards the waitress, who’s carrying two plates of food and looking awkwardly at Tristan’s abandoned seat, “your uh- your friend- where is he?”

“He’s gone,” Azzi says quietly. 

“Is he coming back?”

“No,” Azzi shakes her head, “no, I don’t think he is.”

*** 

May 2033 

The memory burns against the back of Azzi’s eyelids as she lies, wide awake, in Paige’s guest room with Stephie tightly snuggled against her chest. She’s not sure what exactly had triggered the memory because honestly, she doesn’t think about Stephie’s father -her sperm donor to be more accurate- that often. He’d existed for a mere second in the clock of her life, disappearing almost as fast as he’d appeared. But there’s a part of Azzi that will always be thankful to him, because he’s part of the reason she has this beautiful little girl who’s sleeping in her arms. 

A little girl who she loves and who loves her back, a little girl who’d filled the aching hole in her heart. A little girl, that was hers. 

And Azzi hasn’t been lonely ever since she’d been handed her little girl. 

Until tonight. 

Her eyes drift to the other side of the bed and she can’t help but focus on just how empty it looks, can help but be immersed in the feeling of something’s missing. It’s the first night in weeks that the other side of the bed isn’t filled and everything about it feels so fucking wrong. Azzi sighs, resting her cheek on Stephie’s head as she rubs her hand up and down the little girl’s shoulder. She can’t sleep and she knows -by the little telltale frown on her daughter’s face- that the little girl might be asleep, but it’s the kind that’s deeply troubled. 

She’s just about to close her eyes for another unsuccessful attempt at letting her exhaustion lull her into a slumber, when she hears the sound of footsteps right outside her door. Azzi rises up slowly, gently disentangling herself from Stephie as she squints through the little gap between the door and the floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know who it is and Azzi’s heart thumps anticipation as she watches the shadow of feet pacing back and forth. Suddenly they disappear and disappointment -even it’s ridiculous to feel it after the events of the night- courses through Azzi. Sighing to herself again, she lays back down, closing her eyes. 

A minute later they shoot open at the sound of the door being pushed and Azzi sits back up again, something like relief -something like i’m so glad you’re here, i'm so glad you came back please don’t ever go again- rushing into her veins. It takes a second for her eyes to adjust to the sight of the figure in the dark but once they do, Paige is practically illuminated by the moonlight streaking through the windows.  The blonde looks at her, not a speckle of shock at the fact that she’s awake because Paige knows her, knows her the way Azzi had known Paige was awake too, knows that they’d never been particularly good at falling asleep after an argument. 

“Can’t sleep,” Paige admits out loud in a whisper, nervously shuffling her feet by the doorway. 

“Me neither,” Azzi confesses, her hands brushing through Stephie’s hair. 

Their revelations -and the i can’t sleep because i can’t sleep without you hidden behind them- hang in the air, waiting for the two of them to say anything else as they stare at each other in the dark room. 

Paige speaks first, stumbling towards the bed, “can I just-”

“Yes,” Azzi breathes out before the question’s even finished, “please.”

Despite the urgency in their words, Paige is slow, climbing into bed, like she’s waiting for Azzi to take it back. The blonde slips underneath the covers, her hands immediately moving to rub Stephie’s back where they collide against Azzi’s fingers and that lightest bit of contact elicits a breathy gasp from both of them. There’s so much still left to say, so much still left to fix, so much they’re not sure can be fixed, but as Azzi slowly lies back down, her fingers interlocking with Paige’s over Stephie’s tiny body, she thinks that she might not survive, if these fleeting moments don’t lead to forever.

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 7 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You start off the year as close as you can get to Agatha and Rio, unfortunately for you that luxury is short lived sicne you have to return to college. Lucky for you, they know just how to treat you well, no matter the distance

-OR-

How the first morning in the new year goes. Plus Agatha and Rio take you on a lovely valentines fuck date and then talk you through fucking yourself when you can't sleep without them

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, bottom reader, time jumps because I wanted to catch up, mommy/daddy kink, fingering, alcohol consumption, food during sex, guided masturbation, phone sex, brief orgasm control and delay

Words: 4.5k

A/N: We're back baby :P

AO3 | Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Masterlist

Distance Makes The Heart Grow Desperate

Morning arrives in the softest way imaginable, a gentle pull from the depths of sleep rather than a harsh awakening. The world is still quiet, the early light slipping through the blinds in slanted golden streaks. Your body is sore in the best way possible, every muscle humming with a dull, satisfied ache. You stretch slightly, only to be met with the warm weight of an arm draped over your shoulders; the scent of Agatha’s perfume grounding you instantly.

Blinking sleep from your eyes, you take in the sight before you: Agatha, reclined against the headboard, a book resting open in one hand while the other remains curled around you, absentmindedly tracing slow circles against your upper arm. It’s a familiar sight, reminiscent of when you first woke up in this room months ago, but unlike then, panic doesn’t seize your chest. Instead of wanting to hide your face and overthink every little detail of how you managed to end up like this, you simply sigh, nuzzling in closer against the comforting press of Agatha’s side.

“Mmm, morning,” you grumble, your voice thick with sleep.

Agatha hums in acknowledgment, fingers drifting up briefly to card through your hair. “Morning, sweetheart,” she says, her voice low and indulgent, as if she’s been waiting patiently for you to wake. She doesn’t look away from her book, but the way her hand lingers at the nape of your neck makes it clear she’s content with your presence.

The sound of water shutting off in the en-suite bathroom breaks the peaceful moment. A few seconds later, Rio emerges, towelling off her damp hair, already dressed in a fitted turtleneck and jeans that hug her body in an unfairly flattering way. She smirks at the sight on the bed, tilting her head as she leans against the doorframe. “Well, aren’t you two cozy?”

Agatha finally glances up from her book, a slow smirk curling at her lips. “Mm. Apparently I make a rather good pillow.”

You groan playfully, burying your face against Agatha’s shoulder before reluctantly sitting up. “What’s the plan for today again?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Breakfast at your parents’,” Rio reminds you, tossing the towel aside and stepping closer to the bed. “Then the New Year’s Day walk.”

You let out a soft whine, already dreading the cold, but there’s no escaping the tradition. With a resigned sigh, you slip from the warmth of the bed, already feeling the absence of Agatha’s touch like a phantom sensation against your skin.

­­­­—

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon greets you the moment you step inside your parents’ house. The kitchen is bustling with warmth, the table laden with an assortment of breakfast foods—flaky pastries dusted with powdered sugar, crisp bacon, scrambled eggs, bowls of fruit, and pitchers of fresh juice. It’s a picture of domestic comfort, one that should feel entirely normal.

And yet, something in the air feels off.

Your mother watches you closely as you enter, her expression unreadable. You barely have time to reach for a croissant before she speaks.

“You feeling okay this morning?” she asks, tone deceptively casual.

You pause mid-motion, blinking in confusion. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

Her gaze flickers, a knowing edge to it. “Because last night, you texted ‘I need you mommy’ and then I hardly saw you.”

The world freezes. The air leaves your lungs in a single sharp inhale, your fingers tightening around the pastry in your grip. Oh. Oh no.

Your brain scrambles, thoughts colliding in a desperate bid for an explanation. Lie. Quick.

“I—” you start, swallowing thickly. “Oh, God. That. Right. Uhm. Yeah, that was… that was nothing. It’s just a joke I have with some friends, and I was really drunk so I didn’t realise I sent it to the wrong chat. It was just a stupid mistake, honestly.”

It’s not a complete lie, so hopefully it’s believable without warranting further questioning.

Your mother raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

“I promise it’s nothing!” you flounder, heart pounding in your throat, “I’m really sorry mom, I hope I didn’t worry you too much.” You give your best sheepish smile, hoping the half-truth sticks.

For a long moment, your mother simply stares at you. Then, with a sigh, she shakes her head, muttering something about you needing to double-check your messages before hitting send. She doesn’t push the topic further, much to your relief, instead passing you a mug of coffee with a pointed look. “Drink. You clearly need it.”

The rest of breakfast passes without further interrogation, though you remain acutely aware of Rio and Agatha’s presence at the table, the weight of their knowing gazes practically searing into your skin.

It’s only when you’re all by the door, slipping into your coats and lacing up your boots for your family’s traditional New Year’s Day walk, that you’re finally cornered.

Rio leans in first, voice dripping with amusement. “So, cariño,” she purrs, adjusting the lapels of your coat like she has any intention of helping. “We’re just friends now, are we?”

Agatha clicks her tongue, stepping up behind you and running a slow, deliberate hand down your back before resting it at the base of your spine. “And calling me Mommy is just a little joke to you?” she adds, her breath warm against your ear.

Heat floods your face, your entire body going rigid between them. “Shut up,” you hiss under your breath, shoving at Agatha’s arm, but the older woman merely chuckles.

“Oh, no, we wouldn’t dream of it,” Agatha teases, smirking as she tugs on her gloves. “After all, you were so desperate for attention last night.”

You groan, pulling your scarf up higher to hide the telltale flush creeping up your neck. This was going to be a long walk.

—

January comes and goes, then February arrives with a whisper of frost clinging to the windows of your college apartment, the city caught somewhere between winter’s last breath and the tentative promise of spring. Life at college has been relentless; papers to write, lectures to attend, an ever-growing to-do list that keeps you tethered to the reality of deadlines and obligations. But despite the busyness, despite the chaos, there’s a persistent ache you can’t quite shake.

You miss them.

It’s not just the thrill of their touch or the way they set your skin alight with every knowing glance. It’s the presence of them—the casual intimacy, the easy dominance with which they take up space in your life, filling it with indulgence, teasing, and an undercurrent of something far deeper than you’re willing to name.

It’s been too long.

The three of you had barely managed a few rushed phone calls and stolen moments of texting since the start of January, your schedules refusing to align no matter how much you all wanted to make it work. Between your coursework, Agatha’s demanding career, and Rio’s travel schedule, the distance had stretched longer than any of you had anticipated. You had returned to campus in early January with the lingering heat of their touch still imprinted on your skin, but as the weeks passed, that warmth faded into a restless longing, an ache that nestled beneath your ribs and refused to ease.

Which is why, when a knock sounds at your apartment door on the Friday of Valentine’s weekend, you don’t expect to see them standing there.

Agatha, wrapped in an elegant wool coat, her signature smirk already tugging at her lips, and Rio beside her, a playful glint in her eyes as she leans against the doorframe.

Your breath catches.

“What—?”

“Sorpresa, cariño.” Rio’s voice is warm, threaded with amusement as she steps inside, brushing past you like she belongs there.

Agatha follows, tugging you into a quick hug before pressing a glossy shopping bag into your hands. “Go get dressed,” she instructs, nodding toward the bedroom. “We have dinner reservations.”

You blink down at the bag, fingers skimming over the logo of some brand you’d never let yourself splurge on.

“You guys have something planned?” Your voice comes out a little breathless, the reality of their presence still settling over you.

Agatha arches a brow. “Of course we do. Did you really think we’d let Valentine’s Day pass without properly spoiling you?”

Your stomach flips at the possessiveness in her tone but you don’t argue.

—

 The restaurant is a study in decadence—low lighting, chandeliers adorned with crystals, a steady hum of conversation weaving through the air like a well-rehearsed symphony. You barely have time to take it all in before a sommelier appears at the table, pouring deep red wine into delicate glasses.

They order for you. Because of course, they do.

The food arrives in rich, indulgent courses— each bite decadent, expertly prepared, the kind of meal that lingers on your tongue like sin. But it’s not just the meal that makes your head spin. It’s the way Rio’s fingers skim the inside of your wrist between bites, the way Agatha’s knee presses against yours beneath the table, solid and deliberate.

It’s the way they look at you, like you’re something to be devoured.

Between courses, Agatha reaches into her coat and pulls out a small velvet box, sliding it across the table toward you. “Open it.”

Your pulse stumbles. Carefully, you lift the lid. Inside, nestled against plush fabric, is a delicate necklace, the pendant glinting under the restaurant’s soft light.

Your throat tightens. “You didn’t have to—”

“We wanted to.” Rio’s voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. She leans closer, lips curving. “Consider it a small taste of what’s to come.”

Heat prickles up your spine.

The conversation takes a slow, inevitable turn—subtle at first, flirtation dripping between sips of wine. A brush of fingers along your jaw, a knowing smirk, a quiet promise disguised in the cadence of idle chatter. But then Rio tilts her head, eyes dark, and asks, “Do you have any idea how much we’ve missed you?”

And just like that, the air between you shifts, something electric crackling in the space where words are no longer necessary.

Agatha takes a slow sip of her wine, gaze steady. “Dinner,” she says, lips curving around the rim of her glass, “is only the appetizer.”

Your stomach twists—not from hunger, but from something far more intoxicating.

You set your fork down.

“Then what exactly is dessert?”

They share a look, something silent and wicked passing between them.

Rio chuckles, low and indulgent. “Eres nuestra, cariño.”

Agatha signals the waiter without breaking eye contact with you.

“Check, please.”

—

Once again you find yourself back in the exact same hotel room and it is just as you remember it—lavish, sprawling, steeped in the kind of opulence that feels worlds away from your cramped college apartment. But this time, there are extra touches, small details that make your breath catch in your throat. A bottle of expensive champagne chills in a silver bucket, soft candlelight flickers along the dresser, and delicate rose petals have been scattered across the sheets like an invitation. It’s so effortlessly romantic, so undeniably intentional, that it makes your chest ache.

“You really went all out,” you say, voice a little unsteady as you take it all in. “Did you do all this?”

Rio steps up behind you, her hands warm as they settle on your waist, pulling you back against her. “Only the best for you,” she purrs, her breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Wouldn’t want you to forget how much we adore you.”

Agatha, already perched on the edge of the bed, swirls a glass of champagne between her fingers, watching you with a knowing smirk. “You’ve been working so hard,” she muses. “You deserve a little spoiling.”

You shiver, not just from their proximity, but from the weight of their attention, the way they look at you like you’re something precious. Like you belong to them.

Rio, never one for patience, reaches for your coat, sliding it from your shoulders with a slow, deliberate pull.

"Mmm, look at you, mi amor," she purrs, her gaze raking over you with undisguised hunger. "You deserve to be spoiled, sweetheart," her lips now brushing the shell of your ear as she speaks. "Wouldn’t you love that? Letting us take care of you the way you deserve?"

Her words send a shiver racing down your spine, but any attempt at a response is swallowed by her capturing your lips in a slow, languid kiss. She tastes like the wine from dinner, dark and rich, and when she presses a chocolate-covered strawberry between your parted lips, the sweetness melts on your tongue. You barely have time to swallow before her mouth claims yours again, deep and wanting. The remnants of fruit linger between you, passed from her tongue to yours.

"Perfect," Rio whispers against your lips, her fingers working to undress you. "Always so sweet."

Your clothes fall away in a haze of heat and urgency, and as soon as you’re bare, Rio’s patience snaps entirely, her hands gripping your thighs as she lifts you onto the bed, pressing you into the cool sheets. Agatha shifts, kneeling beside you, one hand stroking idly up and down your torso while the other guides your chin toward her. “We’ve missed you,” she breathes before capturing your lips in a kiss, slow and deep, laced with all the longing of the past months apart.

Agatha takes her time tasting every inch of newly exposed skin, nipping at the slope of your shoulder before following the path lower, lower, until her mouth is dragging open kisses across your stomach.

Meanwhile, Rio takes another strawberry between her lips, biting into it before smirking down at you. "Think you can handle something else sweet?" she teases, leaning in to trail the juice-slicked berry along your collarbone, down the valley of your chest. The sensation is cool against your feverish skin, and when she licks away the trail it leaves behind, your head tips back with a gasp.

Agatha catches your chin, guiding you to look at her. "Keep your eyes on us, love. We want to see you fall apart."

And you do. Slowly at first, as hands and mouths explore, but the tenderness doesn’t last long. Desire coils hot and insistent between you, months of separation making them all the more ravenous. The teasing turns to something deeper—Agatha pressing you into the mattress as Rio straddles your waist, letting you taste the strawberry still on her tongue as her hips grind down against you.

You don't know whose hands are where—Agatha’s fingers stroke over your thighs, parting them wider, while Rio busies herself tracing circles against your flushed skin, their touches blurring together in a haze of pleasure. The world narrows to the heat of them surrounding you, the way they whisper filthy praise against your skin, the way they leave no part of you untouched.

Agatha, ever in control, pulls back only to grab another strawberry, dipping it in melted chocolate before dragging it along your lower stomach, watching with dark amusement as the heat of your skin melts the coating. And then she licks it away, her tongue slow and deliberate, sending a jolt of pleasure so sharp through you that your hips buck up into the air.

Rio chuckles, pinning you back down. "Patience, cariño. We’ve got all night."

“Daddy’s been thinking about this for months,” Agatha breathes against your inner thighs, her hand already drifting lower, nails scraping lightly down your stomach. "We haven’t stopped thinking about you—about fucking you properly."

Rio chuckles darkly above you, her thumb stroking tenderly across your cheek. "You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? Having us take care of you?" She dips her head, kissing along the sensitive skin of your jaw before nipping lightly, making you gasp. "Letting us give you everything you deserve?"

Your head spins at their words, at the slow, deliberate touches that leave you trembling beneath them. And when Agatha slides her fingers through your slick folds, teasing but not giving you nearly enough, you can’t stop the desperate whimper that escapes you.

“Aw, poor thing,” Rio coos, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You sound so needy. Is that what you want, baby? Need Mommy to take care of you?"

You nod frantically, body arching into her touch, but Agatha tuts softly, pressing you back into the mattress. "Use your words, sweetheart. You know better than that."

Your cheeks burn, but you obey, voice shaking. "Please, Mommy… please… I need you."

Their groans are almost simultaneous, as if your pleading is the final snap of restraint they were holding onto. Agatha’s fingers slip inside you with an agonizing slowness, stretching and curling just right, while Rio drags another strawberry through the chocolate, this time running it down your stomach before leaning down to lap it up, her tongue warm and wet against your skin.

“Look at you,” Agatha purrs, her free hand coming up to cup your cheek. "So perfect like this. Our sweet little thing, all ours."

Rio hums in agreement, her mouth trailing lower. “You work too hard,” she chides, lips brushing against your pulse point as she drags her nails down your sternum. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have more time for yourself?”

Agatha kisses lazily along your inner thigh while her fingers continue to pump in and out of you. “Mmm, imagine that baby. No more stressing over bills, no more worrying about what you can or can’t afford. We’d take such good care of you.”

Your head swims, the pleasure mingling with their words, filling your mind with visions of soft luxury, of indulgence and security and never having to say no. It’s too much and not enough, and when Rio’s hand grips your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze, you can barely hold yourself together.

“You deserve to be pampered, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her thumb grazing your lower lip.

You can barely process the words, too lost in the overwhelming feeling of their hands, their mouths, the warmth of their bodies pressed against yours. But somewhere in the haze of pleasure, the idea plants itself in your mind. The way they talk, the way they touch you—it’s not just about tonight. It’s an offer, a promise.

By the time the three of you collapse back onto the sheets, boneless and tangled together, you’re drunk on more than just the champagne. The room smells of sweat and strawberries, of satisfaction and something unspoken lingering between you.

—

March creeps in slowly, dragging its still-cold mornings and damp evenings with it. The excitement of Valentine’s weekend has faded into the everyday monotony of coursework, exams, and the usual responsibilities that pull you in a dozen different directions. And yet, no matter how much you try to throw yourself into your studies, no matter how many distractions you pile onto your plate, nothing fills the empty space that Agatha and Rio have left behind.

Everything reminds you of them. The lingering scent of Agatha’s perfume clinging stubbornly to your coat. The polaroids Rio had gifted you, hidden in your drawer like a secret, tempting you to look at late at night when your imagination needs some help. Even the taste of strawberries lingers in your memory, recalling the heat of their mouths, the sweetness of their voices wrapping around you like silk.

The distance is unbearable.

You tell yourself that you’ll be strong, that you won’t cave, that you won’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how badly you need them. But it’s a losing battle from the start.

You last exactly three weeks before you break.

The call connects before you can second-guess yourself, the sound of the dial tone sending your pulse into a frantic rhythm. Agatha answers on the second ring, her voice thick with amusement, as if she already knows exactly why you’re calling.

“Well, well,” she drawls, the rich, velvety tone of her voice sending a shiver down your spine. “To what do we owe the pleasure, sweetheart?”

You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat. You hadn’t planned what you were going to say, hadn’t thought past the desperate need clawing at your chest. But the silence lingers just a beat too long, and Agatha catches on immediately.

“Oh,” she exhales, her voice dipping into something lower, something darker. “You miss us, is that it?”

Your breath hitches, and that’s answer enough.

Before you can stumble through some feeble denial, there’s a shift in the background noise, the unmistakable rustle of sheets, and then Rio’s voice slides into the call, thick with sleep but no less teasing.

“What an adorable little thing,” she croons. “Calling us so late… What is it you need, cariño?”

It’s too much. Their voices alone unravel something in you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, pressing your thighs together as warmth pools low in your stomach.

“You know what I need,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “I wish you could fuck me right now.”

Rio hums in approval, a low, pleased sound that makes your fingers tighten around the phone. “That’s our good pet,” she praises. “So honest for us.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound dripping with dark amusement. “How long have you been lying in bed, thinking about us?” she asks, her words laced with something wicked. “Tossing and turning, waiting for an excuse to call?”

You can practically see the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, the satisfied gleam in her eyes as she pictures you exactly as you are—flushed, needy, completely at their mercy despite the miles between you.

Rio’s voice is softer when she speaks, but no less commanding. “Touch yourself,” she instructs. “Slow. Don’t rush it. Let us hear how much you missed us.”

Your breath shudders out of you, heat prickling at your skin as your free hand drifts down, slipping beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. The first brush of your fingers against your clit is enough to draw a whimper, and Agatha exhales sharply, as if she can feel it too.

“Good,” she praises. “Nice and wet for us already, aren’t you?”

You bite your lip, nodding even though they can’t see you.

“Don’t get shy now,” she coaxes, voice smooth as honey. “I want to hear everything, sweetheart. Every little sound.”

Rio’s voice is warm and wicked in your ear. “You know better than to be quiet for us, cariño.”

You let out a soft moan, and Rio practically purrs. “That’s it, baby,” she praises. “Now tell us how it feels.”

Your cheeks burn, but you obey, voice shaky as you describe every sensation, every little movement. You can hear the pleased hum from Agatha, the subtle shift of fabric as if she’s settling in, fully intending to draw this out.

They guide you through it, their voices a constant, sinful presence in your ear—praising and teasing and whispering promises of what they’ll do to you when they see you again.

“Slow down,” Agatha instructs, her voice a deliberate drawl. “Drag your fingers through that slick—nice and lazy. Feel how wet you are for us?”

Your breath hitches, fingers moving in slow, teasing circles, and you can’t stop the desperate little whimper that escapes you.

Rio sighs, voice thick with approval. “Such a good pet,” she croons. “Now press a little harder—there you go. Mmm, just like that.”

Agatha hums, low and considering. “Slip a finger inside,” she orders. “Nice and easy. Don’t rush. We want to hear you fall apart for us, sweetheart.”

You obey, gasping at how easily your finger went in, the sound slipping from your lips embarrassingly loud in the quiet of your room. But it only earns a pleased sound from Rio, followed by the faintest hitch in her breath—so soft you almost miss it.

Then you hear it—so subtle, so faint it makes your breath catch. The quiet rustle of sheets. A shift, a barely-there sigh. The realisation slams into you all at once.

Agatha isn’t just watching this unfold. She’s touching Rio in the exact same way they’re telling you to touch yourself.

Your stomach clenches, heat curling through you at the thought of them tangled together, Agatha’s skilled fingers dragging over Rio’s skin, coaxing out the same pleasure they’re pulling from you.

“You should see her, darling,” Agatha purrs, amusement laced through her voice. “Already squirming for me, just listening to the sounds she’s making.”

Rio makes a sound, half a sigh, half a whimper. “Fuck,” she exhales, her breath coming quicker now. “Fuck, I’m close.”

The words send a sharp bolt of pleasure through you, your own body winding tighter, trembling on the edge.

Your breathing hitches, the pleasure a sharp, unbearable thing coiling low in your belly. You’re so close, so so close, but something stops you—instinct or maybe the unspoken rule you know by heart now.

You let out a desperate whimper. “Please,” you breathe. “Please, can I—?”

Rio groans, low and approving. “Oh, cariño, listen to you,” she sighs, voice thick with satisfaction. “So polite, even now.”

Agatha chuckles, her amusement laced with something darker. “Mmm, not yet, sweetheart,” she muses. “You can wait a little longer for us, can’t you?”

You let out a frustrated whine, hips twitching helplessly. You hear Rio’s breath catch, another soft, bitten-off whimper slipping through the receiver.

“Shh, be good for us,” Agatha soothes. “Almost there.”

The air is thick with ragged breathing, with Rio’s barely contained whimpers, with the filthy, breathless sounds spilling from your own lips. You can hear it all—Agatha fucking Rio towards her orgasm, the way Rio gasps and shudders, how her moans slip into something desperate. It’s almost too much, knowing that they’re just as lost in this as you are.

Then Agatha exhales, sharp and satisfied. “Now,” she says, her voice molten. “Cum for us, honey. Let go.”

The pleasure crashes over you, sharp and overwhelming, and your soft cry is swallowed by their praise, their approval spilling through the speaker like warm honey.

For a moment, the silence stretches, filled only with the sound of your uneven breathing.

Then Rio hums, smug and satisfied. “Feel better now, mi amor?”

You let out a breathless laugh, still coming down from the high. “You’re insufferable,” you manage.

Agatha chuckles. “And yet, you called us.”

You can’t argue with that.

Before you can fumble for an excuse, Rio’s voice turns syrupy sweet. “We’ll see you soon, sweetheart,” she promises. “We’ll make sure of it.”

And you believe them.

As you hang up, your body still trembling, you stare at the ceiling, breath evening out. The silence in your apartment is deafening after the low rasp of their voices, the steady rhythm of their guidance. You turn onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow as a smile tugs at your lips.

They want to take care of you.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let them.

-----

listen I knew exactly what I wanted from this chapter but it was not playing fairly and whenever I tried to write anything it felt wrong so I really hope this is up to par with the rest of the series 😅

-----

taglist: @aceday @ctrlamira @lezbean-with-a-side-of-dilfs @noturlondonboy @darkangelchronicles @sevikasleftarm25 @kiaralee25 @4theluvofsapphos @lez-zuha @jujuu23 @gaylorvader @danveration @alwaysharmony @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6stolenangel9 @masorciereviolette @juls-stark @agathaallalongg

[larriescompass]

ways to dispel gay rumors, according to louis tomlinson and harry styles:

1. write a love song, and include the place where you and your enemy lived together.

2. constantly walk away from your at the time girlfriend of nine years.

3. struggle to hold hands with and kiss your at the time girlfriend of several years.

4. repeatedly say ‘no’ when asked if you and your girlfriend are engaged.

5. but do say, ‘it’s confidential, but we’re already engaged,’ when asked when you are gonna propose to your best mate.

6. say you have a crush on your best mate, and that you’ve discussed it and say that it’s mutual.

7. when asked if the rumor is true, smile fondly and say yes.

8. when your best mate is talking about finding someone they would want to date, cough really obviously and loudly.

9. choose to play a song on your tour, where the first word has major involvement with the rumor.

10. when asked about the rumor, turn into a horse.

11. deny the rumor while emphasizing the word ‘obviously’ and MAKE SURE to be very sarcastic.

12. dress up rainbow bears on stage that represent gay artists.

13. dress up said rainbow bears in wedding outfits on stage with a picture positioned in front of it of a man named larry, while signing the photo with the words “love, larry.”

14. when you see something involving the rumor, give it a thumbs up!

15. get matching tattoos.

16. go to amsterdam with your wonderful girlfriend at the time, then come back and write a song where the first line is, “i went to amsterdam without you,”

17. having to adjust your pants because your best mate’s shirt popped open.

18. when your “mate” asks to give you a blowjob, respond with “i’d love it, if you’d just wait.”

19. when asked about your favorite traits in a female, say “not that important” about the person being a female.

20. look depressed whenever someone mentions your child.

21. cover a song where the main objective of the song is to be the girl just so you could be with the guy.

22. get a tattoo that you know people will link to the person involving the rumor.

23. dress up as queer idols for halloween.

24. go to gay bars.

25. bring your girlfriends to gay bars.

26. cook a meal for your girlfriend even though you didn’t even know her when you cooked it, and she was vegan at that time.

27. make a dopey fonding face while you’re staring at your best mate.

28. sexually tease each other on stage.

29. while your best mate is hyping himself up and says while referring to himself, “that’s just sex on legs,” agree and say, “yeah it is,” while giving him love eyes.

30. at your solo concert, point to a replica of the rainbow bear in the crowd that you and your best mate dressed up on stage.

31. change the lyrics of your song from “i love it” to “i love him.”

32. you must wear a vintage umbro t shirt that is very rare, and make sure to have your best mate show up wearing the same vintage rare umbro shirt just a few months later.

33. go completely MIA while your best mate has his off season, and pop back up in public when he goes back on tour.

34. host your own festival and have an artist with a song named “you’re not harry styles” perform during it.

35. consistently use colored lights that are heavily associated with the rumor during your concerts.

36. use art of your “totally platonic” friend’s tattoo for the spotify background of one of your songs.

37. do a photoshoot with clothes from a gay clothing brand that dates back to the fifties.

38. go to the same euros game and make sure to be seen in the same room together.

39. bite your best mate’s back after you deny the gay rumors.

40. look at your best mate and sing “i’m in love with lou, and all his little things” in a totally normal and platonic way.

[ikeuholic]

jake fic recs

smau

1. the love ride | @whjluv

after your mutual breakup, your ex disappears from the public eye for almost a year, only to comeback with a deeply emotional album entirely about you, sending fans into a frenzy. they analyze every lyric and link it to your past relationship, causing your breakup to become once again the talk of the internet. upset and surprised that the so private Jake preferred to deal with his emotions publicly instead of talking it out with you, you drop a single in response, highlighting the parts of your breakup he left out.

full/written

1. taking jake’s glasses off for a kiss | 0.2k | @jiwuu

2. attracted to you | 500 | @yuzujjn

3. latte hearts | 835 | @bywons

𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾 𝗃𝖺𝗄𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗋

4. toothbrush | 1.4k | @winterlico

after months of living together, the distinction between "just roommates" and something more begins to haze due to late-night movie marathons, sharing food, and Jake's toothbrush's inexplicable permanent presence in your bathroom.

5. falling deeper | 3.5k | @winterlico

another casual night drive with Jake, "This is the best idea I’ve ever had."

6. clickbait romance | 3.5k | @heartsriki

When the head journalist of the university magazine is paired with campus heartthrob Jake Sim for a fake dating photoshoot, the lines between pretend and real begin to blur.

7. your name | 5.1k | @soobnny | 🌟

you give a different fake name every time you come into the coffee shop jake works part time in and he just wants to know your real name bc ur cute but here he is scrawling “rainbow dash” into your stupid cup

8. cupid’s arrow has struck… the wrong target! | 10.3k | @s1rawb3rry

As a cupid, Y/N's job has always been to make people fall in love– that has been her task for centuries. However, everything goes horribly wrong when Jake accidentally locks eyes with her instead of his intended match. Now, she's stuck with a hopelessly in-love Jake, following her around like a lovesick puppy. The worst part? Cupids aren’t allowed to fall in love…

9. professional yearner | 13k | @itendtothinkalot | 🌟

growing up, you had two heroes: jake and sunghoon. thick and thin, chaos and crayons, they were always there. so when your ex dumped you for "being so oddly close to your best friends” well… fair. but what he didn’t get is that you never needed him. you’ve always had jake sim and maybe that was the problem.

10. the matchmatic 3000 | 19k | @jakesimfromstatefarm | 🌟

simp, i mean, sim jaeyun is a hopeless romantic. a cursed hopeless romantic, he would say, doomed to exist as just your friend, nothing more. but when his genius (read: nerdy) best friend creates a highly accurate matchmaking app for the university, jake is ready to bribe, beg, and possibly sell his soul to make sure he gets paired with you. plan a? hack the system. plan b? there is no plan b. to jake, being delulu is the solulu, and he's all in.

11. no doubt | 23.7k | @jakesimfromstatefarm | 🌟

no doubt sequel series

struggling to balance a world tour, endless responsibilities, and...well, the sting of getting dumped by his girlfriend, jake finds peace & comfort confiding in you—one of his closest friends. what begins as lighthearted late-night phone calls while he's away on tour deepens into something more, quickly pulling you both into uncharted emotional territory. as your connection with jake intensifies, so does your inner turmoil—torn between the comfort of your easy relationship with him and the terrifying possibility of falling for someone you're not even sure you can have in the first place. but jake? jake has absolutely no doubt of what he wants—and spoiler alert? it's you.

🌟- fav

updating regularly for my own sake lol :)

last updated: april 2025

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 3: How bad can a day get?

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 (You're here) - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Tim gazes at you. He doesn’t know what to do or feel.

He hates you, he really does, but at the same time he kind of enjoyed the afternoon with you. If you put aside the arguments and such it was kind of fun being in your presence.

He’s conflicted, he should hate you – you’ve done bad things in the past and you hate Aranea! But, hanging out with you gives him some kind of weird feeling – euphoria fills him when you make a sarcastic comment in jest or when you chuckle at one of his jokes.

There were times you both fought but it felt nice to see you come back into the room and not just leave – his parents tended to leave for the whole night if they got into an argument and he’d have to stay in his estate alone.

He watches as you sleep peacefully, you’re in the lower age part of his class – with you being sixteen and he seventeen – yet you look so much more youthful while sleeping, your face isn’t in a scowl or bored look, you look content.

Tim slowly gets up from the bed and looks around the small, cramped room. It's easy for anyone to feel claustrophobic and it feels wrong for someone to live in it who acts like how you usually do.

His attention is drawn to the toy chest in one corner, curiosity fighting with respect to open it. One peak wouldn't hurt and surely you wouldn't find out.

He walks over, one of the floorboards creaking, it was only two steps but felt longer for him. He opens the chest. As he stares down at it's contents he's filled with disappointment.

In the chest there's only diaries, metal and engineering bits and pieces. He guesses he should have expected this, you're a civilian, you wouldn't be hiding anything to begin with.

His eye catches on a childish diary decorated in stickers and press on jewels. Before his mind can register what he's doing he picks it up and turns it over in his hands a couple times, examining it.

The date goes back twelve years. So you'd be about four at the time. There's nothing to hide so he opens it - a sneak peak never hurt anyone.

Diary entry 1:

Today I got this diary from my mama! I can decorate it however I want! Mama said it's my birthday gift, I wanted a stuffed toy but this works too! I don't want to disappoint my mama by saying I don't like it!

My neighbor, Susan, is helping me write this! I love her, she's very old and wrinkly and I think she is going to turn to dust. Which is sad.

Bye now!

The first thing Tim noticed was the messy handwriting. It was endearing in a way to see it. The next was the way you spoke about Susan. It was blunt but it seemed you liked her.

He goes to turn another page when he hears the front door of the apartment open and talking entering the once quiet apartment.

He quickly places the diary where it was before and he packs away everything. He debates putting you into the bed before deciding that you're fine.

He walks out and is immediately met with a plate smashing the wall next to him as a frazzled man stands in the kitchen, cowering almost. Tim puts his hands up slightly to show he's harmless and the man's stiff form eases slightly.

The man raises his hands and signs out a sentence.

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

Tim raises a brow, should he sign back or just talk? After some consideration he decides to sign back.

"Your child and I are partners on a project for school"

The man's eyes darken slightly at the mention of his daughter - or who Tim guesses was his child, they bare some resemblance.

"So my child is a slut like her mother then?"

Tim stares, jaw dropped. No fucking way he just said that. Tim shakes his head.

"No, of course not! We had to do a poster!" He states, he doesn't bother with the sign language, the man didn't seem to be deaf judging by the scar on his throat.

The man points to the door before signing.

"You better go right now before my wife punishes you! As it is my child is in trouble!"

Tim, not wanting to cause a fight or scandal, walks to the door and leaves. He wonders how your father is going to "punish you", clearly you had to have been spoiled by someone to end up so rude - even if you were fun to hang out with for those hours.

Tim gets to the front of the apartment and gets into the car waiting for him. One thought was one his mind however:

Are you as bad as they all assumed you to be?

----

You wake up the next day to your dad and mother standing above you angrily. Not a good way to start the day and you had to sort out your red eyes before people asked if you'd been crying.

Heading to school was as uneventful as Gotham gets and when you get to the front gate you realize your two friends aren't at school today. Great. Your day is the best!

You debate sneaking back home and going on a day patrol, maybe running into Signal, though you hope not. He's nice and all but he along with the other Batman lackeys and Batman himself give you bad vibes, they set off your spider senses and cause you to feel icky when in their presence.

Before you can make a decision you hear your name being called out and Tim walking up to you with a serious expression. You think you're going to barf - now that you think about it, Tim gives you the same reaction Red Robin gives you - a feeling of anger and motion sickness.

Each vigilante gives a different type of icky feeling so it's crazy you haven't noticed Tim giving you the same feeling.

It's not your business though so you won't think about it further.

"Did you bring the poster?" He asks, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks to you in slight annoyance. "Duh. It's in my bag." You respond, rolling your eyes and handing him the poster.

He hums and puts it in his bag and you raise a brow. You won't question why he did it, probably just wanted the credit of handing it in.

With that you head to your first class of the day: Engineering.

[wonhes]

୨ৎ SATURDAY APRIL 5TH, 2025 7:18 PM

— nervously looking down at your hands, you clear your throat once more to try and calm yourself down before speaking up again.

at your actions, SEUNGHAN quickly looks up from his laptop and takes note of your body language. he's been knowing you were nervous since the moment you walked in but he didn't want to point it out, especially because he's nervous himself too.

taking another look at your shaking hands and at you nervously shaking your legs, he shakes his head at his thoughts and decides to speak up.

"don't be nervous," seunghan mumbles, offering you a soft warm smile. "it's just me," he adds before turning back to his laptop and moving it closer to you to show you the powerpoint he was working on.

looking at the blank powerpoint, you couldn't help but furrow your eyebrows at it before turning to seunghan.

"i wrote our names," he states proudly causing you to let out a small laugh. at the sound of your laugh, seunghan lets out a chuckle himself as he continues to watch you. god, he missed this. he missed this so much.

"that's it?" you manage to ask before letting out another laugh as you continue to watch him in disbelief. you two had spent the past few minutes trying to discuss random topics for your project but nothing was sticking. you had seen seunghan take out his laptop and naturally you assumed he had it figured out but boy were you wrong.

"you didn't even do it right," you jokingly state shaking your head at him. at your words, seunghan goes wide eyed and scoots closer to you to take a better look at his screen.

"what do you mean?" he worriedly asks, confused on how he could already mess something up.

"you forgot to write wonbin's name," you chuckle out before moving forward towards his keyboard to type out wonbin's name below yours.

rolling his eyes at the mention of his friend's name, he lets out a small sigh as he watches you type away. "..right, my bad."

as your done typing, you take your time to reread the names and feel your eyes go wide at another realization.

"your name—" you mumble out suddenly feeling your heart skip a beat. god, you were doing so good! you had gone 5 whole minutes without your heart acting up and now here you are again. back to square one.

slightly turning your head to look at seunghan you find yourself immediately regretting it. you take notice of how close the two of you were and immediately hold your breath. unable to move, you stay frozen in your spot with your heart pumping loud. can he hear it? you wonder.

"seunghan, your name is seunghan." you manage to squeak out with your heart continuing to beat rapidly against your chest.

without breaking eye contact, seunghan quickly shakes his head at your words. "hani. i'm your hani."

too immersed in one another you two forget all about your surroundings. you forget all about your group project. you forget where you are. all you two could think about were each other. that's all that mattered. no, correction— that's all that matters.

from a distance, dae watches as the scene unfolds. she doesn't feel her heart break. instead, she's filled with anger, maybe even hatred. rolling her eyes, she clenches her fists and walks away from the scene. this wasn't over and she was going to make sure of it.

୭ೃ — ENTANGLED

CHAPTER 16 — YOUR HANI

SUMMARY!! confessing to your best friend seemed like a good idea, right!? well, spoiler alert: it wasn't. fast forward to 2 years later and now you two are attending the same college and wait ... his girlfriend is your roommate?

<- BACK | NEXT ->

ENTANGLED MASTERLIST

𓂃۶ৎ TAGLIST — @aangelll0 @antoncyng @ant-onie @banez @calumsfringe @catdonut657 @cherrytaesan @chishiyapologist @blossominghunnie @dejundesign @ddolbyong @flaminghotyourmom @gacktsa @getoxo @hanninova @hyuckies18 @https-yeonjun @ilymarkchan @intakstars @janjoonty @jeeluv @jvngw0nlvr @kaosuni @ksywoo @kukkurookkoo @lizzieray @lovewonsall @maripositaa @mwrsi @ninetyatepink @nodoubtily @pinklemonade34 @renjuneoo @ridinhyuck @riizenhateez @rllymark @saranghoeforanton @seoksoop @skibidihan @sftsohee @snowyseungs @taehyunluvrs @taroddori @urlovelily @va1entinaa @yoursyuno @xcosmi

[byunpum]

Mama's Boy | Part 4

Pair: Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's

Warning: Kinda sad, cozy moments, conflict, family problems

Note: This part may be a bit long, but I hope you still enjoy it. I think only one part is left, but we'll see. Do you like the reading to be this long or shorter?. btwI recently opened a KO-Fi…. if you want to leave any tips or support I would appreciate it (it would help me to buy real coffee xD).

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6(final)

7 years ago… You were quite calm decorating and cleaning your home, neytiri was out for a walk with kiri and baby tuk. While jake had gone out to practice with lo'ak and neteyam. Leaving you alone, and peaceful. But all that quiet was interrupted, when you heard a lo'ak crying. He came rushing in, straight towards you. He was wiping away the tears that were falling on his cheeks. "MAMA" lo'ak whimpers, coming towards you. Throwing himself into your arms, not caring what you were doing. The boy wrapped his arms around your neck, burying his face in your neck. Lo'ak was 7 years old, and already about your height. But that didn't stop his mother from comforting him, and right now he needed it. "Honey…what's wrong? You're hurt" you push him away a little, taking a quick look. You see that he doesn't have any injuries, so what was wrong with him. You hug him again, caress his back. And you cuddle him from side to side. Trying to calm the child down. After a couple of minutes, you feel lo'ak move away a little. You wipe his face a little. "Are you more calm?" you smile at him a little trying to comfort him.

"Yes…it's just that…" lo'ak tries to speak, but stops when he feels his tears coming again. "Calm down love…what's wrong" you speak, you were worrying about whatever had happened, it was really mortifying him. "I was with daddy…practicing my shots with my bow. It was my turn and " lo'ak takes a deep breath. You already knew what the boy was going to say, you gently caress his cheek. "I didn't get it right…and I would try again many times. But dad told me that neteyam was better at archery than me. And that's not true!!!" Lo'ak begins to cry. "Love…daddy only said that for your own good, to make you better" you know it's not right what jake said. You hated it when jake compared lo'ak to neteyam. "No…he said neteyam was much better than me in everything…that I should be like him. And I don't want to be like neteyam, neteyam is ugly" lo'ak yells a little.

"Hey, first neteyam is not to blame for anything…and second, I will talk to your father. But love…don't make a big deal out of those comments. Your father sometimes doesn't think about what he's going to say, okay?" you try to reassure the boy. "Why don't you go and find spider, and you two can play. Yeah?" you say, watching as the boy perks up.

That same night, you and Jake have a big argument. Even neytiri had to step in. She was never on either side. It was so bad, that you even took lo'ak and left the house to sleep with mo'at. Behind you were kiri and neteyam. "You can't take the children with you," shouts Jake in anger. "Of course I can, I'm not going to leave them here with an immature person" you shout back, neytiri was trying to rationalize with you. But she ends up following you, giving Jake a disapproving look.

Present day…

"mom…can you help me with this?" asks neteyam, approaching you. He was holding a pretty feather ornament. "Sure come here sweetie" you speak, inviting him to sit down in front of you. You get up from the floor, to now work on his hair. The whole family had gotten up early to finish packing, almost everything was ready. But there were more things to pack, now that they had spent time in the metkayina clan. As you worked on neteyam's hair, you noticed how the scar from his wound had healed, but it was still there. "Honey…I'm glad to see you are healing" you speak, listening as neteyam laughs but then goes silent. "mom for a moment i thought i was going to die and never see you again" neteyam says. Lo'ak was sitting on your left side, he heard what his brother said. He quickly tapped him on the shoulder. "Bro…don't say that" lo'ak didn't like to talk about it. You on the other hand felt sorry, you almost lost one of your babies and you weren't there. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and give him a hug. The tightest hug you can. "I would have found a way to see you, you know that right?" you speak, watching as the boy turns to look at you. "I know mom…that's why I stopped worrying" neteyam laughs a little. Settling down so you can continue to work on his hair.

Meanwhile tonowari was on his way to the sully's marui, that same morning he woke up early and discussed his decision with ronal, the woman strongly disagreed. She did not like the idea of having a human in her clan. But she had to support her partner's decision. Tonowari quietly approached the entrance of the marui and stood in silence. To his surprise, he had the scene that lo'ak was trying to explain to him the night before. Neteyam was sitting, while you were combing his hair. Lo'ak sat next to you eating a piece of fruit, while laughing with kiri. The children looked so happy around you, they felt safe. He walked in a little, causing his presence to be noticed by jake. The whole family looked at him. "tonowari…is something wrong?" asks jake, finding the man's presence in their home strange.

"I came here because I want to talk…to the whole family" says tonowari, looking at you quickly. I had to admit, your presence was strange. "Come in," says Jake. Everyone turns their attention to the man who had now sat down. "Your son…lo'ak" tonowari points to lo'ak quickly. Jake looks at him with concern, what lo'ak must have done now. Swallowing hard, praying it's nothing bad. "The boy talked to me and I must say he was mature enough to stand up for his mother" tonowari says.

"I'm sorry if he said something he shouldn't I" jake started to apologize, but tonowari raises his hand to pause him. "He didn't do anything wrong…in fact he convinced me. I accept that human stays between us" tonowari says, lo'ak looks at you and smiles wide. Holding your hand tightly. "Are you serious?" jake couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yes…I can imagine how bad it must be for the family not to have a member in it." Tonowari can see how everyone in the family gets excited. "But I have one condition," Tonowari says, staring at you. "Yes tell me…whatever" you speak, tonowari is surprised. For the first time he was talking to you face to face, he must admit you were very beautiful. And he could notice some features you shared with your son, lo'ak.

"I will give you a testing time. You will have to live as a metkayina, swim, fish, work as a metkayina. You will not be anyone's burden, and you will earn your own place here in the clan, that's for sure," says Tonowari. He was serious, you only had one chance. If you did something wrong, or made a mistake it was all over. "Don't worry, I will do my best. I assure you I won't cause any trouble," you say. "They're going to love her," says Kiri excitedly, getting up from the floor to hug you. This news makes the whole family happy. Tonowari says goodbye and leaves. The whole family is silent for a moment, analyzing what had happened. This was a lot of information, for such a short time. "Mom…you are staying here!!!" says lo'ak, the boy is so excited. He was about to cry. The only family member who hadn't said anything was jake, he was still sitting in the same position.

"Lo'ak…why did you go talk to tonowari and not say anything to me" jake sounded upset, in fact he looked upset. "Jake" neytiri starts talking, she already knew what jake was going to come out with. "Dad it's just that you had argued with him and I wanted to fix things" lo'ak tries to explain his point of view. "You know this could have ended worse" jake says, you pick yourself up off the floor. Making a noise like 'ha'. Jake looks at you in surprise. "I can't believe it, your son has done something wonderful. And instead of congratulating him…you're scolding him? You are unbelievable jake" you speak, while crossing your arms. Neytiri could see your position, and if there was one thing she knew, it was that you were not an easy woman. You might be small, but your character and the power you had over Jake was gigantic. "Okay, everybody calm down. Lo'ak you did a great job" neytiri reaches up to stroke the boy's face. "And jake…Y/N is right, no need to complain" neytiri speaks, hoping everything will calm down.

Jake takes a deep breath, stretching his arms in the air. Shaking his body a little, stretching out one of his hands to signal for you to come closer. He had a goofy grin on his face, when he felt you approach his arm. Skillfully grabbing your waist, with a quick movement pulling you into his body . Cuddling you into his arms, filling your cheeks with kisses as your laughter could be heard throughout the marui. This was supposed to be a moment of happiness for the family, they were finally going to be together after a long time apart. That same morning, everyone helped to unpack all the belongings. Neytiri was thankful that the heaviest things had not been packed, because they did have a lot of things. Also that night, the family celebrated like in the old days, of course…inside the marui and in silence. Preparing a good meal, dancing and laughing about the old days. It felt so nostalgic, it had been a long time since they had had such a good time.

Everyone got ready to rest. The boys settled into their hammocks, ready to sleep. As in the old days, you went one by one to say good night to them. Giving them a kiss on the forehead. First it was tuk, then kiri, then neteyam and for the last it was lo'ak. "Goodnight my precious baby" you speak, giving him a kiss on the forehead. Watching as lo'ak giggles tenderly, he looked so adorable like that. "Mama can you sleep with me?" lo'ak asks you, causing a smile from you. "Love…" you didn't know what to say to him, lo'ak was too old for you to sleep with him. But you felt sorry for your boy, he had missed you so much. But if you were going to be fair, all the children in the family had asked to sleep with you. Just before you could give an answer, Jake came up behind you. "ahh no, your mom is going to sleep with us…and that's it" says jake, seeing how lo'ak's face is one of sadness. "I promise you that later mom will sleep with you, ok?" you speak, saying goodbye again to lo'ak.

Jake and you walked away. Jake looked back, to see lo'ak giving him a dirty look. This surprised Jake, chuckling to himself. As he walked you over to the hammock you shared. "Ney" you hum, as you climb into the hammock. Snuggling into neytiri's chest, she snuggles you into her arms. Feeling jake settle in behind you. "Your son hates me," jake says, burying his head in the back of your neck. "Which one?" you speak, as neytiri lets out a laugh. "Hey" jake slaps you on your ass. You and neytiri continue to laugh. "I'm talking about lo'ak, you would have seen the way he looks at me" jake was still shocked, lo'ak had never looked at him like that. "You asked for it…you're taking his mom" says neytiri. "Yeah but his mom…she's ours too, isn't she?" says jake, leaving a few wet kisses on your neck. Neytiri hugs you tighter on her chest, you felt so good. You had missed them too much.

2 months later…

You had gotten used to life in the new clan pretty fast. You had started taking some lessons with ronal on fishing, since you couldn't ride an ilu. You had to do everything the traditional way, according to the na'vis. But for you it was normal, humans had to do things traditionally all the time. So fishing with a net, collecting the things you had to use, even though it was more difficult, you had managed it. Ronal was still not very sure about you, whenever you were with her there was always your bodyguard, Neytiri. Your partner did not leave you alone with Ronal at any time. According to Neytiri Ronal could tempt you with your life. You thought she was overreacting, but you didn't argue with neytiri about such things, she had always been that way with you.

On the other hand, tonowari could tell that everything jake and lo'ak had told her about you was true. You were the most peaceful person he had ever met. He had barely listened to you, well… he hadn't talked to you much. But whenever he saw you, you were always with your children, or helping a clan member. Tonowari would approach the na'vis and ask them what they thought of you. They would always respond with a 'she is very nice''I like her, she is a very good person'. This would relieve it a little, but you were still on probation.

On the other hand, your relationship with your family was in a good state, better than ever. Everything seemed to be running smoothly. Or so you thought. It was morning around 10:00 am as far as you could calculate. Kiri had insisted the night before that you accompany her to look for shells on the beach where she liked to go. You accepted without a problem, you had nothing to do and wanted to spend time with one of your girls. Lo'ak was invited to the expedition, of course he didn't have to ask…he was always with you. If he wasn't with his friends, it was behind you. "Hey…watch out, the sun looks like it's going to be very hot" says neytiri. If the sun was bad for the na'vi, it was worse for you. You joke a little, watching as neytiri approaches you to put some kind of cream on you to protect you from the sun. You and Jake joked that this was a sunblock bomb, because the smell was so strong. "Ahh I hate that smell!!!" you complain, but neytiri nips you a little to stop you from moving. "Yeah…but you're going to thank me when you don't get burned like a tapirus" neytiri sounds angry, seeing that you don't take her concern seriously.

You say goodbye and leave with kiri and lo'ak towards the beach. They arrived quickly, the place was very close. Kiri was lying in the water, sinking her face from time to time. While you were sitting next to her, you had your head back and your eyes closed. Enjoying the warmth, it had rained a lot the previous days. The weather felt great. While lo'ak was playing eywa knows where. You could just hear the water splashing in the distance. Out of nowhere, you feel someone approach and make a spray of water fall on your face. "Lo'ak…watch out!!!" you scold, seeing the boy laughing in front of you. He looked like a puppy about to make a mischief. "Mom, I want you to meet someone?" says lo'ak. This gets your attention, settling in straight to look at him. "Is it a girl? Tsireya?" you ask, lo'ak gets nervous and moves his face in a 'no' expression. "It's something better…it's my other brother" lo'ak says, you look at him curiously. Lo'ak had gone crazy, as far as you knew the only brother he had was neteyam. "You mean teyam?" you say.

Lo'ak lets out a laugh, as he sits closer to you. "Mama no, he is ahhh he is a tulkun. I want you to meet him" lo'ak was excited, he wanted you to meet payakan. You think about it for a while, but you accept. You couldn't say no to that adorable little face. You tap kiri's shoulder. The little girl lifts her face. "What happened, Mom?" speaks Kiri, and you brush a few strands of hair out of her face. "Honey I'm going for a walk with lo'ak do you want to go?" you ask her. "Nooo mama just you and me" lo'ak complains, crossing his arms. "You don't have to yell…mom don't worry I'll be here a while longer and then I'll go home" kiri says.

"Ok….but be very careful. I trust you" you speak, watching as Kiri smiles at you and goes back to playing with the little fish in the area. You get up from the water, accompanying lo'ak. He was already jumping up and down with excitement. Telling you all about his friend, how he met him and where he came from. All while walking towards his ilu. The trip was quite fast, lo'ak arrived getting up a little from his ilu. Calling out his friend's name. "Mama he will be here soon" lo'ak looks around, seeing if he saw his friend. "Don't worry if he doesn't come" you speak up, but remain silent when you see as a shadow below you. "Here he is!!!" lo'ak says, excited. Payakan comes out of the water, making a noise of greeting. "Payakan look…this is my mom. Remember I told you about her?" says lo'ak moving to the side, to take your hand. So that you would come closer to him. Lo'ak sometimes forgot that your legs were shorter and you were smaller. But you manage to stand now on the creature's flipper. While lo'ak's ilu begins to swim around.

"Mama he is payakan my brother…and payakan she is my mama" lo'ak speaks, petting the creature. Tulkun makes another noise, and you startle a little. You had to admit that this was very new to you. You still didn't understand the language of signs very well, let alone this creature. "mama he says you are very pretty" says lo'ak. You could see the look of pride on his face, this was very important to him. "Thank you" you look at payakan, and he gets excited. Making a stream of water come out of his back. "Mama likes you very much" lo'ak says. You giggle a little, reaching over to pet the creature. It was very amazing and majestic. You and lo'ak spent the whole afternoon playing and hanging out together. For a moment, you just sit in lo'ak's ilu, watching the boy swim and play with his friend. You loved seeing him like that, so happy and carefree.

After a while, for some reason you started to feel sick. You had felt dizzy that morning, but you didn't think it was important. But now you were feeling worse, the dizziness was getting stronger and your vision was getting quite blurry. And not to mention the headache and stomach pain you were getting. "L-lo'ak" you yell under your breath. You were already writhing in pain, you lean forward. Trying to get your balance. The ilu of lo'ak noticed something was going on, and began to make a lot of noise. Catching lo'ak's attention, the boy stops swimming and takes a look at your location. He can tell how you were moving oddly, and his ilu looked a little uneasy.

He swims as fast as he can, coming towards you. "MAMA, MAMA!!!" lo'ak approaches and tries to get your attention. Lifting your shoulder, but he sees how you don't respond. You had fainted, your body was resting in the ilu. "Mom get up, what's wrong with you!!!" lo'ak is getting very desperate, what had happened to you, you were fine minutes ago. Maybe the sun was too strong, or you were sick. Lo'ak climbs into his ilu, carrying you in his arms. Leaving for the clan, he made his ilu swim as fast as possible, but he could not hold back his tears. You were still not getting up and he was getting desperate. "mama please…get up" shouts lo'ak shaking you a little. The trip back was a long one for lo'ak, arriving at the coast. Shouting his father's name for him to arrive. "Dad!!!dad!!!help!!!" shouts lo'ak.

Jake had arrived at the marui, he was accompanied by neytiri. Kiri had told them that you and lo'ak had gone for a walk. But she didn't tell them where you were going, this made Jake a little nervous. Jake was very careful with you, and even more so since you were on probation. You couldn't cause trouble or else they would have to leave. Jake hears the shouts of lo'ak, who were approaching the marui. "What's going on?" neytiri gets up from the ground, running to the entrance accompanied by jake. Watching as lo'ak enters with his mother in his arms. You had woken up on the road, but a you were still very dizzy. "Y/N!!!" neytiri takes you in her arms, and quickly places you on the ground. "Lo'ak what happened…what happened?" shouts jake, sitting down next to neytiri. Watching as the woman tried to stabilize y/n. "Honey, come on open your eyes" says jake, tapping you on the cheek. While neytiri placed a wet cloth on her forehead, jake tried to get your oxygen machine to pump out more oxygen (here I'm talking about the mask the reader is wearing).

After a while, neytiri managed to get you up. "Take some water" neytiri speaks, stroking your hair. You were sitting up, feeling tired and even a little dizzy. Lo'ak was standing all this time, watching as his parents tried to help you. "Don't worry…it was just a dizzy feeling" you laugh a little. "A simple dizziness…ma y/n you were unconscious" neytiri speaks annoyed. Meanwhile jake was walking from one side of the marui to the other. "Lo'ak what the hell happened? What did you do?" jake looks at lo'ak intensely. "I…mom and I were at the sea. We were visiting payakan" lo'ak says timidly. The poor boy looks at you quickly, trying to seek your help. "J-jake" you speak softly. But you watch as your partner ignores you, and moves closer to lo'ak. "Why are you so ignorant…you know that's a dangerous place for your mother" jake yells.

"But daddy" lo'ak tries to defend himself. "Dad nothing… why are you like this? You're fucking irresponsible" jake yells again. But the words were like a knife to lo'ak, jake was acting as if the boy had caused this on purpose. "JAKE" you yell, getting up from the ground. Neytiri tries to stop you, but you walk towards jake. "What the hell is wrong with you?" you look at Jake in shock. "I'm telling him the truth, why can't he behave like neteyam" says jake.

"Because he's not neteyam!!!!" you yell as loud as you can. Lo'ak wipes away some tears and runs out of the marui. "Lo'ak come over here!!!" jake was going to stop lo'ak, but you stop him. "What do you want him to stay for?" you were annoyed, jake was always going overboard with lo'ak. He didn't half like how he talked to his son. "Why do you keep comparing lo'ak to neteyam? They are completely different people. Besides this whole situation is not his fault" you speak.

"But he knows he shouldn't take you to that place," Jake speaks. "Jake, I'm a grown woman…I do what I want. And I'm getting sick and tired of this attitude you have with our kids. I'm reaching my limit" you were so upset, you were turning red with anger. "Y/N listen to me" jake tries to speak.

"I don't want to listen to you…this isn't something that's happening now. This has been going on for years. Have you ever wondered why your children look at you with fear, because yes, they are afraid of you? Have you ever asked them how they feel or what they want to do, no. You just give orders and think that everyone is doing what they want to do. You just give orders and think everyone here is going to follow them." You yell, pacing a bit all over the marui. Neytiri was sitting on the floor watching and listening to all the discussion. She wasn't saying anything, because she knows you were right.

"I think I'm tired of this…I love you Jake, I love you with all my soul, but I think it's best if we go back to our home… "You lower your head, you felt bad and this whole situation was exhausting you more. You didn't want it to escalate to this level. "Let's go home?" jake gets a little confused, glancing quickly at neytiri. She lifts her shoulders, she didn't know what you were talking about. "I will go with lo'ak to our home, live with mo'at. If any of the children want to leave with me I will take them. But I will not leave them here…getting this treatment. Because they deserve to have a normal childhood" you had tears in your eyes. Leaving Jake there silent and stunned, as you walked towards the Marui's balcony. Neytiri gets up quickly chasing after you.

"Y/N!!!" neytiri holds your hand, you didn't want to look at her. You were too overwhelmed. "Tell me what you are saying is not true. You love us, you love me and Jake. We can work this out." neytiri makes you look at her. She knew you were right, but she couldn't let you go. Let one of her children go away. "I can't stand jake" you yell a little. Neytiri stands there in silence, she knew you weren't really saying it, you loved Jake. Something was happening to you. "You are not serious" neytiri sounded sad. "Ney…let's go away, the two of us, let's go back home. I need to be home" you start crying, the more you talk. Neytiri pulls you to her chest, wrapping you in a very tight hug. "Ma y/n…be calm. I miss our home too" says neytiri. Sitting there, with you in her arms.she sensed something was happening to you, something in you was changing, you weren't like that. Meanwhile, Jake was not far from you. He felt so bad…this was his fault.

"Do you think mom will leave us?" tuk looks at neteyam and kiri. The group of kids had been spying on their parents, when they saw lo'ak come out of the marui. The boy was sitting next to neteyam. He was still teary-eyed. "Well I'm going to my mama's," said lo'ak, he was upset. "I…I don't know. But I don't want mom to leave" neteyam looks back inside the marui. This is the first time he has seen his parents argue like this.

P.s I promise I will upload the next part soon. But I would like to know what you guys think so far. And what do you think is going to happen?

Tag: @baybaybear1@hoodiepandaninja16@teyyyteyyy@anika-rose-walker@victoria2054 @raviolisblog @jessi-dan@neteyams-wh0re@jimfiqs@bitchykittenconnoisseur@chershire23@holynightnacho@danilezilla @thepotatoislost

[dameronspector]

Time in a Bottle

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Wife!Reader, Past!Manny Alvarez x Fem!Reader

Summary: You wished you could save time in a bottle. You wished you could stay longer with him. You were supposed to spend the rest of your days in marital bliss, turning gray and wrinkly together. And then, your husband decided to risk his life and save her. She brought in ghosts from your past and took away your reason to live at the same time.

Warnings: Angst. Suicidal Thoughts. Cursing. Canon-typical Gore and injuries, Blood, Based on s2 episode 2. This is literally pain. Major character death. Thoughts of vengeance. Reader goes crazy later. References to Past Manny x Reader (I am assuming Manny to be in his mid-thirties so Reader's age is the same). Manny is kind of toxic now because of his jealousy, If you’re an Abby defender, please click off right away because this is only Abby hate. Reader wishes to kill abby and the salt lake crew.

AN: fuck that show, fuck neil and fuck abby. this is basically self indulgent and i need to vent out my anger and sadness. there will be 2 parts because its too long.

It’s been 5 years since you and Joel decided to finally settle down, 4 since you got married and 7 since you were together. Arriving to Jackson, seeing at first glance how it was a real, functioning, town really shifted something in you and Joel. And then he saw how Tommy had a family of his own, with a baby on the way. Joel’s chest ached with longing to have a life like that with you. So, Joel sat you down one night and proposed you. Straight to the point. Just like him.

You could see how the slow, domestic life was turning him soft- he slept in later, he enjoyed full meals, he had taken up carpentry again, he was more open with his affection for you and Ellie- in short, you were enjoying this slow life with him. You loved seeing him slow down and watch his tender side show up after spending 20 years running, killing and looking over his shoulder. His voice had turned softer and although his joints had become sore with age, you were always there next to him to help soothe them.

Obviously, you said yes. How could you not? He had your whole heart in his hands. He was the reason why you woke up in the morning. You had nothing after him or before him. You grabbed his scruffy face in your hands like he was made of glass and kissed him sweetly. His eyes shone like stars in the dim lighting of your room and he flashed you a dimpled, bashful smile. He told you he didn’t deserve any of this and that you deserve someone younger, someone your age- but he wants to be selfish just this once. You just kissed him deeply and told him that you loved him and only him.

The next morning, you and Joel got your marriage officiated at the town courthouse. It was a simple ceremony. You were wearing a salvaged and simple white dress that was found in one of the abandoned stores and Joel wore his best shirt and trousers. Tommy and Maria were the witnesses and one of the townspeople was acting as the officiant. Ellie and Dina were your bridesmaids and Jesse, Tommy and little Benji Miller were Joel’s best men. The entire town had attended the wedding ceremony. It’s been 4 years since that happy memory. And they had gone by in a blink because your husband was quite literally the best husband in the whole world.

He would cook for you, massage your achy joints, you patch each other’s injuries with gentle touches, you would do the dishes together, he would make you sweet gifts from wood and mend things around the house, you would cook healthy meals for him and keep him active so that his joints wouldn’t turn rusty and the two of you would take long, peaceful, naps everyday. Watching his aged and mature face relax when he was sleeping was your favorite thing to do. You would take your time to run your hands through every wrinkle and dip of his face. He would try to deny it, but he'd lean his head closer to your hand and purred like a cat whenever you ran your hands through his graying curls.

He had also started to help around Jackson- rebuilding houses, expanding the town, fixing the broken stuff, and helping around the community and it made your heart swell with love for him. This man, who had lost everything in his life, was slowly starting to gain his real self back. Everyone loved Joel because of the work he did for them. Your heart especially burst out of your chest when he would play with Tommy and Maria’s son- Benjamin or Benji for short. He was now 5 years old and Joel would still sit him on his tender knees and explain to him about the situation outside Jackson. He talked to Benji in such a delicate voice that it made you tear up. It made you wonder what would it look like if that was your baby on his lap.

After spending half of your life with him, you conceded that Joel Miller was a good man. Yes, he was not an angel because he’s gotten his hands dirty with red, but who is in this world? You had done some fucked up shit that you wouldn’t have before. Ellie, Tommy, Maria, every single person had to go to lengths to protect themselves. But Joel Miller was a loyal man. He was a man who would go to any lengths to protect his own and the vulnerable. He was someone who always put others before him. And that’s what made him a good man. And you couldn't be more happy to spend the rest of your days with this good man.

Deep, deep, down you knew that one day, his selflessness to dive in situations to save others before himself, would be the end of him.

-

There were some changes to today's patrolling team. Originally, Ellie was supposed to join Joel but considering whatever happened last night, Joel decided to let her sleep in and he went on patrol with you and Dina. He wasn't happy that you were joining him in the terrible weather but you shut him up with a kiss and saddled your horse.

None of you anticipated how deadly the blizzard would be. The visibility was zero, your horses were struggling to walk in the knee deep snow and poor Dina was close to freezing her hands off. You and Joel weren't faring any better. Both of your faces were freezing, his facial hair catching the snow, your aged joints were stiff and you knew his back and knees must've been killing him, but Joel Miller wouldn't be Joel Miller without ignoring his own health and looking after the others. So you bribed him into taking shelter by telling him that you and Dina needed to rest as soon as possible. That got his attention real quick and he spotted a closed off mine and ushered the two of you in it. The packed area kept the place somewhat warm and you and Dina took some time to remove your gloves and stretch your limbs.

Suddenly, there was commotion. It was muffled, but you could feel it. Joel turned his head to look at you and signaled you to mount your horse.

"I'm coming with you, Joel", you told him firmly.

"Go sit on your horse, baby. I'll be back in 5. Look after Dina", he conceded.

You furrowed your eyes at him and he looked at you apologetically before taking off towards the source of the sound. You sighed wearily and mounted your horse. You asked Dina to show her hands and you took in at how her palm was slowly turning into a dark shade of blue.

"Shit, kid, we gotta warm you up", you told her with concern and rubbed your hands against her palm to generate heat. She winced and you mumbled an apology before the upstairs door burst open.

You and Dina snapped your heads up at the sound. It was Joel, thankfully, and he had brought in…a girl with him? He slammed the doors close behind them and the door started shaking, something heavy pounding against it. A horde of infected.

You paid close attention to the girl. She looked to be in her early 20s and she was shaking. Something felt...off. Where did she even come from? You were in the middle of nowhere.

"Joel?!", Dina shouted next to you.

"Up here! I'm comin', I'm comin'", came your husband's voice as he approached the railing to look at you and Dina. You looked up at him and observed him closely to check if he was okay. He looked at you and nodded his head.

He then turned around and started talking to the girl. You still couldn't shake away the odd feeling. The loud banging of the door brought you back to the present. You saw Joel come down with the girl in tow.

"What do we do?!", Dina asked breathlessly.

"We leave!", Joel answered while running over to you.

"We leave? Joel, What?", you asked him in exasperation.

He looked at you with a hurried look in his eyes.

Dina spoke up, her eyes wide. "Back to Jackson?! It's too far, we'll freeze before we get halfway!"

"Joel, it's bad out there, we can't. And there's a fucking horde outside as we speak", you tried to make him understand with pleading eyes.

He made quick work of mounting his horse.

"I'm aware", he replied shortly.

"Where the fuck did they even come from?", Dina's voice was a distant hum in your ears as you focused your laser sharp gaze on the girl that Joel had brought in. She hadn't said a word.

"Where did you come from?", Dina asked the girl in confusion and you supported her question.

"Yeah, where did you come from. We're in the middle of nowhere. And you were out there in that blizzard without a horse?", you questioned her sharply, your eyes narrowed.

Her eyes were wide and she kept darting them between you and Dina, seemingly on edge.

"The mountain", came her immediate reply. Like she'd rehearsed it. You gave her a look and turned to look at Joel. His questioning eyes bored into yours and the loud banging and shrieking behind the door broke your contact.

Dina turned back to look at you and Joel. "Okay, if we stay here we die and if we go out there, we die!", her words rushing out in fear and frustration.

"Joel...We got extra baggage now. What are we doing?", you murmured lowly to him.

He furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. "I don't know, I don't know, I'm thinking!"

"The lodge. My friends are holed up in a lodge halfway up the mountain."

All three of you snapped your heads to look at the girl, her body language screaming fear and adrenaline.

"Not far. If the infected are down here, maybe there aren't anymore up there", both you and Dina were looking at her with equal parts confusion and doubt. A fucking lodge? Here?

"Why would you leave that lodge and end up here? Are you dumb or is there somethin' else?", you asked her with a quirked eyebrow. This wasn't your first rodeo. You've encountered stupid raiders like these before.

The door was about to be broken off its hinges. You had no option.

"Fuck it, it's all we got. Are your friends armed?", Joel asked her in haste.

You whipped your head to look at him. "Joel!"

He looked at you and softened his eyes. "Baby, we don't have any other options. D’you trust me?"

You couldn't believe that he was going to trust this girl and her friends just like that. You huffed in frustration and exchanged a skeptical look with Dina before you begrudgingly nodded at him. Of course you trusted him. You trusted him with your life.

"Yeah", the girl nodded.

"Good. We're gonna need 'em. Get on", Joel gestured at her to hop on the horse behind him.

You exchanged another doubtful look with Joel and he just brushed his hand gently over your arm. You didn't notice the way the girl was staring at the exchange with tense eyes.

-

As you left, the door broke and the horde of infected took over the mine quickly. The four of you rushed down the snow covered hill. The air was biting at your skin as it whipped across your face and numbed it. All of you were covered in snow, your cheeks red and body stiff. But you forced your poor horses to run faster as the horde followed you.

You suddenly came at stop and noticed a thick air of smoke and fire in the distance. Jackson. Oh god. Please be okay, you thought about your family. You thought about Ellie, Tommy, Maria and little Benji.

"Joel!", you got his attention with a concerned yell.

All three of them looked over towards the scene.

"What? Oh god", Dina exclaimed breathlessly.

"I have to go back!", Joel announced.

You widened your eyes and walked your horse closer to his. "Are you crazy? What do you mean you have to go back? How-"

"We won't make it!", Dina exasperated.

Joel turned his head to look at you with alert eyes. As if he wanted to relay this to you, and you only. "If i don't make it, I don't make it. I-"

"Shut the fuck up, Joel", you scolded him with a frustrated voice. Your eyes filled up with tears. Why was he so hell-bent on doing something reckless every time?

"We're almost there! The lodge is just up ahead- it's like a minute. We've got blankets, ammo. My friends can help you get back. We can fight", the girl sitting behind Joel spoke over your argument.

You turned to look at her with a scrutinising stare. You still didn’t believe her but Joel was already being way too stubborn right now and Dina was inching closer to hypothermia. You didn’t want to risk that. You and Joel took one last look towards Jackson and reined your horses.

"Fast!", Joel commanded over the howling wind and all three of you took off quickly.

So you followed her lead and took off for the lodge, effectively distracting the horde to focus on the other horde coming from the top of the mountain.

"Horses! We got Horses!"

You heard a few voices overlap as you approached the lodge. There were around 4 people standing, you noticed. The wind was picking up pace, hitting your face like someone was stabbing you with tiny needles.

Joel got off his horse before helping you and Dina down. The girl was helped by one of the men in the group. Joel checked if you were alright and you told him to check on Dina instead because she had become way too stiff for your liking. Joel bundled up Dina under his jacket and put an arm around you to keep you close to his body heat. You were now shivering violently against him and he pulled you closer.

You walked upstairs into a room that overlooked the mountains with a giant glass window. Joel made haste and and walked you and Dina by the fireplace. He rubbed Dina's arms before another girl from the group took over and began treating her. Joel turned his attention to you and bundled you up close to him. You were stiff and shaking head to toe. Your lips were a slight tinge of blue.

"Hey, hey hey hey- Baby? Look at me", Joel fretted over you and brought his cold hands up to cup your face.

You leaned your face against his palms numbly and his name left your mouth in a whisper.

"I know, I know, I'm here", he reassured you and brought you closer to his chest, trapping your body heat.

In your haze, you could faintly hear Abby say something to Joel to which he originally opposed to but after a few seconds, he pulled away from you hesitantly. You whined and tried to grasp his shirt in your numb hands. He held your cold hands and put them right next to his heart.

"It's okay, honey. They're helpin' us. We gotta get you warm, yeah?', he cooed to softly and gently pulled away from you.

As soon as Joel pulled away from you, you heard a faint gasp and the entire room quieted down. You swiveled your heavy head towards the sound and tried to focus your blurry eyes on the person in front of you. Joel slid his hand down to hold your elbow and the other arm was holding you by your shoulders.

"(Name)?", you heard a voice whisper.

Joel whipped his head to look at him. "How the fuck do you know her?", he growled.

Manny cleared his throat. "Just...from back in the day. We were in the same QZ."

Joel's face twisted in confusion and anger. You'd never told him about this man. Joel wasn't sure whether he should trust him or not. Before he could ask you about this, the girl decided to break the tension, seemingly in a rush. "Okay, Manny, help her out. He knows what he's doing, trust me", she added the last part when she noticed Joel try to argue with her.

Joel let out a weary sigh and reluctantly handed you over to this...Manny. His fingers were constantly rubbing against reach other, worried for you and Dina, when he noticed that Jackson was perfectly visible from here. He rushed over to the window and stared at it in despair, not knowing if Ellie, Tommy and the others were okay.

-

Manny's POV

Manny damn near fainted when he saw you in that man's arms. He was seeing you after almost a decade. A decade since you two parted ways and he foolishly let you go. He tried looking for you for 5 years but eventually gave up, believing that you were dead. But here you were, delirious and cold, against this old man who talked to you like you were something fragile and precious. Just like how he used to talk to you back then. He noted how you looked so mature and strong, yet so vulnerable and beautiful at the same time.

He could feel the stares of everyone in the room. Especially this man's. He turned to look at him with fury in his eyes after Manny uttered your name. Manny snapped himself out of his daze and explained how you had been in the same qz. But that wasn't it, was it? It was way more than that. It wasn't just acquaintance.

Manny carefully approached Joel, his eyes dialed into you and took you in his arms. Your eyes were bleary and unfocused out of exhaustion. He took some time to take you in. Your hair was longer now, a faded scar by on your forehead, your skin was smooth as ever, just tinged with red now. He took note of the blue tinge on your lips and immediately got to work. He bundled you up in your jacket and a blanket and brought you closer to the fire, hugging you closely to his chest. He rubbed his hands on your arms quickly to warm you up faster.

Manny still couldn't fathom that you were here, in his arms. He carefully took your left hand in both of his and started blowing hot air on it. As he was rubbing your hand, his fingers brushed against a metal ring on your ring finger. He froze. You were married? To that man? Manny clenched his jaw tightly. He didn’t know if he was jealous or upset that he let you go easily. But he was sure about one thing- whatever Abby was planning, you were off limits.

-

Your body was finally warming up and you came to consciousness. You felt a warm presence next to you. You took a deep breath in, trying to look for Joel’s comforting scent but you were met with an unfamiliar one. Your eyes shot open in alarm and you jolted out of your haze before pushing at the body next to you.

“Hey-hey- (Name)- it’s okay”, the voice tried to calm you down, holding your flailing arms against their chest.

You gave a final push and looked up.

There’s no way.

Your breath hitched and you stared at him. The same curly hair, the same pink splotches on his cheeks, the same brown eyes except he had facial hair now. “Manny?”, you whispered in disbelief.

You thought he was dead. For the past 10 years, you thought he was fucking dead. Manny lowered his eyes in shame. Your face shifted with a thousand emotions at the same time. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to cry or punch him across the face.

Your mouth fell open and Joel called for you before you could say anything. “Honey?”, he made his way over and you kept your teary eyes on Manny before rushing into Joel’s arms. You met him halfway and he gathered you in his warm embrace.

“Hey, you good? Don’t get up so quickly”, he chided you in a gruff voice while brushing your flyaways from your forehead. He grabbed your chin gently and pulled you away from his chest to look at him. You furrowed your brows in concern, tears making your vision blurry. Then, all of sudden, you remembered- “Dina- where’s- where’s Dina?”, you asked him in a shaky voice.

"She's okay, see, they're helpin' her", he told you softly and gestured at Dina. You looked over at her and nodded your head before your eyes fell on the large glass window in front of you. It was overlooking the snowy landscape and you could see Jackson, still burning, the orange of the fire a bright contrast against the stark white snow. "Joel-", you let out a sad whisper and pulled him towards the window, him guiding you with an arm across your shoulders. The two of you looked out at the smoke and ash curling in the air helplessly.

Joel clenched his jaw and barked orders at the others. "Okay, everybody grab blankets, ammo, whatever weapons you have, we're headin' out in three minutes."

"Uh- sorry, I'm-I'm Abby-" so she does have a name. "This is Nora, Manny, Owen and Mel", the moment she said Manny you threw him a tentative glance. Manny turned away.

Joel just twisted his face in disinterest and turned around to contact anyone who was in the radio room. "Jackson, come in", he furrowed his eyebrows in concern and held up the radio with both of his hands. "Tommy, come in. Do you copy?" You took note of the desperation in his voice and ran your hand across his back again, blankly staring ahead.

Manny's POV

"Jackson!", the man shouted in the radio once again. There was no chance that he'd get any signal. Manny brought up his gaze to look at you. You were standing close to him, your hand splayed across his back in a tender and supporting embrace. Manny clenched his fingers into a fist.

"Her name's Dina", Abby spoke quietly while gesturing at Dina. "She is-" Abby gave a look to Manny, "(Name), as we all know by now. She's related to him somehow", Abby spoke in a low voice, so as to not alert you. Manny chose to keep his mouth shut and not reveal your relationship to the man next to you. His gears started turning. He needed to keep you safe somehow.

"Jackson!", the man yelled again.

"And he...", Abby turned around to removed her coat before continuing, "..is Joel."

The room was suddenly way too quiet. Manny felt like his ears were filled with water. Of fucking course you were married to Joel. This was going to be a pain in the ass. But his condition still stands. You were off fucking limits. He walked over to Abby and held her arm. "Do whatever the fuck you want with him, not a scratch on her", he conceded harshly.

Abby turned her head to look at him. "You can't be serious-" "I don't fucking care. She's not a part of this shit", Manny warned her.

Abby furrowed her eyebrows and reluctantly nodded yes. Manny clenched his jaw so tightly that he felt like his teeth were going to break. He couldn't fight for you then, but he'd do it now.

-

"Hey Jackson, does anyone copy? Any patrols, anyone?", Joel barked in the radio again. You couldn't help but feel restless, for some reason. Like your heart had fallen down to the deepest pits of your stomach, your chest constricting painfully. Behind you the room had gone way too quiet for your liking.

"Tommy, if you can hear me, we've got these--"

"Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel-"

You and Joel whipped your head around to see Manny had held Dina on gunpoint. Your stomach turned. Your eyes widened. "Manny!", your voice furious. You couldn't believe he could stoop so low. Joel made a move and the other guy-Owen- stopped him.

"Ch-Ch-Ch. Ah-Ah-Ah!", he pointed his gun at Joel. You grabbed Joel's arm and both of you raised your arms. You had handled a lot of these similar situations back in the day. This was like second nature to you.

Manny pressed the gun tighter to Dina's temple and Joel made a motion of surrendering. Your face twisted in pain and you tried to placate him. "Manny...lower the gun. She's just a kid, please", you requested in a wobbly voice and raised your arms higher. Joel looked between the two of you with a distant look in his eyes.

Manny clenched his jaw tighter and his eyes flashed with unease. He couldn't disappoint you once more. But he was already protecting you, why should he worry about these other two? He gripped his gun firmly and shoved Dina back into his chest.

Your face twisted in pain. What the fuck was wrong with him? In all the years you knew him, he was never this…heartless.

"We're not gonna hurt her", Abby began and your eyes followed the bald headed girl- Nora- as she removed Dina's gun from her holster, "we're just gonna put her to sleep for a while."

Nora walked over to you and Joel and took away your radios and guns as well. You and Joel silently complied. "Trust me, it's for the best", Abby suggested with a smirk. You glared at her and your breathing quickened. You saw Joel subtly shake his head from the corner of your eye.

"Do it", she ordered the other girl-Mel- with a shake of her head.

Mel looked skeptical, glancing between Abby and Dina nervously. You almost laughed. Her own group was untrusting of her.

Abby turned her head to address Mel, "If you don't do it, I'm gonna smash her in the fuckin' head", she spit out.

"Watch it", you seethed at her and clenched your hands. She stared you down, challenging. Mel immediately got to work and bent down to retrieve something from the backpack.

"You wanna rob us? Fine, take what you want", Joel offered in a steady voice.

"Do we look like raiders to you?", Abby questioned him while removing her jacket and Manny turned his attention back towards you and Joel. You clenched your jaw. You knew there was something off about her. Joel darted his eyes around the room. He looked at Owen and then Manny. "No", he declared gruffly.

"She's been on my ass since the moment she saw me. Tell me, (Name), what do we look like?", She questioned you and crossed her arms.

You stared at her menacingly. "A bad fucking actress, is what you look like to me", you bit back.

Abby's face flickered with a look of offense before she scoffed. "What do we look like?", she addressed Joel.

Joel darted his eyes between her and Manny, keeping an eye on Dina. "Military." Joel looked around the room and considered the only other option. "Fireflies?", his voice wavered slightly.

Abby shrugged. "Used to be. Haven't you heard? There are no more fireflies. They're all gone."

Joel tensed and his eyes shone with painful memories. You were frozen to your spot. This is what kept you up at night. That there would be some loose ends that would come back to haunt you later. You and Joel shifted your gaze to Mel, who was preparing some kind of syringe. "What the hell is that?", you murmured.

"No- NO. Get that shit away from me-", Dina struggled against Manny. Joel took a shaky breath in. "This is just gonna put you to sleep- this is going to put you to sleep for one hour, I promise", Mel tried placating her. So far, she was the only one who was cordial in this group.

Dina struggled further in Manny's arms and he tightened his arms around her. She looked at you and Joel and you gave her a look of sympathy while Joel nodded his head at her, telling her to cooperate. She finally calmed down and reluctantly let Mel inject her with an anaesthetic. Dina panted and looked towards you again, Joel giving her a nod of reassurance.

“No. No. No!”, Dina whimpered and you closed your eyes in pain. She soon passed out and slipped down Manny’s arms who laid her on the floor. You opened your eyes, your tears flowing down your cheeks, looking at her unconscious body which looked smaller than it was. You raised your eyes to stare into Manny’s intensely. He looked at you, his eyes shining with something that you couldn’t quite grasp.

“See, breathing”, Abby announced casually as if she hadn’t just ordered to inject someone with a drug against their wishes. Fucking moron.

“That’s a nice scar you have on your right temple; there”, she stated. Your body stiffened. How the fuck did she know that? Joel looked at her in confusion.

“I’d say you’re about, what, six feet?”, she mentioned casually, taking her eyes across Joel’s body. “In your 60s now?” You couldn’t believe the audacity of this girl. You furrowed your eyebrows and your face twisted in a grimace. Joel’s breathing quickened. Abby chuckled suddenly,“You actually are, pretty handsome”, she raised her eyebrows, “congrats on that.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re a fucking weirdo, so congrats on that”, you gritted your teeth and spit at her. She chuckled again, like this was all a joke. Joel side eyed her and turned to look at you. “It’s okay, baby. Relax”, he soothed you.

She then gave Joel an offer- to tell the truth. And something about they’ll all know if he’s speaking the truth and that she’ll let Dina live. You almost charged at her but Joel shook his head at you.

“Where was the last place you saw the fireflies?”

There it was. They were connected to the hospital. You should’ve known.

Both you and Joel knew what she was talking about. Joel’s face shifted in recognition and his eyes filled up with tears. Your hands were shaking and you felt bile rise up your throat. “Salt Lake.”

Abby moved back in satisfaction. “At least you’re honest.”

Joel turned his back to look at Jackson in the distance. The smoke, ash and fire still persisted. His mind was roaming around in circles. He was physically here but mentally back in Jackson. He needed to get you and Dina out of here. He needed to save your home. He needed to save his family. He felt like he was stuck in his personal hell- his heart cut into a million pieces and thrown around in different places for him to pick up and protect. Joel turned back, “I saved your life”, he tried to bargain. Abby scoffed loudly. “What life?”

And it happened in a blink. She turned around with a big rifle in her hand. Your eyes widened. She shot Joel in his kneecap. Joel let out a guttural scream that made your stomach twist. And he fell face first on the ground.

“JOEL!”, you yelled and kneeled by his side to hold him. You glowered at Abby. “FUCK YOU!”, you were full on sobbing now. Your vision was blurry, your speech wobbly and your hands were violently shaking. All you could see was that Joel was writhing next to you and your ears rang with the gunshot and his screams. “Hey, hey, hey, baby. It’s okay, I’m here. I know it hurts, Joel. C‘mon, get up for me, baby”, you soothed him with a tearful, whiny voice. You helped him turn on his back. He let out more pained grunts and screams. You tore your shirt’s hem and tied it around his knee, as a makeshift torniquet. The fabric was quickly sopping wet from the blood, it flowed through it and stained your hands a crimson colour. Manny looked at you two with thinly veiled surprise on his face.

“Baby, come on-I know it hurts”, you tried to get him to look at you but his eyes were tightly shut in pain. You held his head in your lap and caressed his cheek gently. You had shut out the background noise from your ears- your entire body tuned into Joel. Your face was damp with tears and your hands were sticky with his blood. You wanted to cut off your hands. Joel gasped in pain and held your forearm. “I know baby, I know it hurts. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Joel”, you apologised to him and kissed his forehead. You were about to turn around and cuss out Abby again before Mel sat down next to you and you fixed her with a glare.

“It’s just a tourniquet. Please”, she showed her belt to you and raised her arms up. Your teary, red face looked at her in anger. You helped Joel sit up carefully and let her torniquet his knee. He let out whimpers and loud grunts of pain. You kissed his shoulder, whispering reassurances in his ear, “It’s okay, it’s okay”, and you took a look at his face. He was breathing so quickly that you were worried he was going to hyperventilate. He sucked in harsh breaths and gritted his teeth before shooting Manny a look.

Manny’s face was blank- whether he was uncomfortable with what Abby did or because of you and Joel, you don’t know. But you looked at him with disappointment and anger radiating through your whole being and he turned his gaze away from you.

Mel tightened the torniquet around Joel’s knee and he screamed in pain once again. Your face twisted in agony and you braced yourself against him, an arm curled around his bicep tightly, other arm supporting his back and your face buried in his shoulder. You couldn’t take it anymore. You’ve never heard those sounds from Joel’s mouth before and you wished you’d die before you heard them again. Manny looked at you with longing but his face flickered with a sick satisfaction. Mel finished tightening the torniquet and Joel finally leaned back on his hand and took deep breaths in to calm down. He leaned himself against your side, exhausted, and you brought him closer to lean his head on your shoulder. You kissed his hair. Abby approached you two and kneeled in front of Joel. “You’re tough. I guess you probably have to be, killing all those people”, she smiled sarcastically.

“Get the fuck away from him before I blow your brains out”, you growled at her, your bloodshot eyes staring at her sharply. She shot you an amused look. “You’re so lucky. Got two men protecting you and that’s why I can’t hurt you, unfortunately”, she said with a fake upset-tone lacing her voice.

You looked at her in confusion and Joel growled. “Don’t talk to her.” She turned to look at Joel with an annoyed look in her eyes.

“Did you count as you went, or…I guess maybe it just didn’t matter?”, she shrugged in a nonchalant way. Joel gulped harshly to swallow his pain and tried to sit up. Abby finally confessed about her being the daughter of the doctor that Joel killed in Salt Lake. You scoffed, you were almost going to tell her off but Joel grasped your hand in his and squeezed it, to tell you to stop. His lip was quivering as he was going down the memory of that fateful day.

She then went on and on about some stupid fucking code that was taught to her by her commander and warned Joel to not to go to Seattle and that he wouldn’t get a chance to. You gritted your teeth and stared her down, your hands itching to pick up a gun and shoot her then and there. She then surprised you by running her hand across his forehead and called him helpless in a fake pitiful way.

“And your….girlfriend? Can’t even do anything because she knows it would be stupid. Isn’t that right?”, she asked you condescendingly.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, bored with her so called monologue.

She leaned back, and then her face shifted into something psychotic. Like a switch was flipped. Abby looked at Manny and subtly nodded her head. Manny clenched his fists and made his way over to you before picking you up.

“What- leave me the fuck alone, Manny!”, you glowered and thrashed against him, hitting his chest. Joel turned to look at you with panic in his eyes. He shifted his focus on Manny, his gaze murderous. “Don’t touch her-”, he growled and tried to get up when Manny kicked him in the ribs and he fell back, grunting.

“Joel! No- please. Manny, please stop this”, you clawed at Manny’s arms and almost begged him. “The less you struggle, the less he’ll suffer, (nickname)”, Manny murmured in your ear. Your body was shaking with sobs, reaching for Joel helplessly. He was in so much pain it made your chest hurt. Joel grunted and sat up slowly to reassure you in his soft, caring voice. “I’m alright, honey. I’m here, it’s okay.”

You shook your head in desperation, your throat scratchy from all the crying. You thrashed against Manny harder and he trapped your arms before holding you at gun point, pressing the cold gun against your temple. “I’ll kill you, Manny. You know that”, you warned him. He knew you could become feral if you had to. He knew you were capable of disarming him and killing him then and there. But you were vulnerable right now and he was going to use it for his advantage. "I know, angel”, he simply agreed with you and pressed you tighter against his chest, his gun pressing harshly against your temple.

“Stop. Stop it. You want me, leave her alone. Please”, Joel begged in a shaky voice. You sobbed harder, he’s never begged in front of such losers before. Abby chuckled. “Oh well, we don’t want to hurt her anyways.”

Your heart fell down to your stomach.

-

Part 2

AN: sorry for the cliffhanger, i had to split it in two part because i don't wanna bore yall with long fics!!

[balrogballs]

Notes on Elrond, Gilraen and the Co-Parenting of Kings

Gilraen spends all of Estel’s Terrible Twos and Threes being completely and rightfully done with Elrond because the latter would accidentally undo any disciplinary decision the two of them make. Elrond and Gilraen would say, for instance, no sweets until dinner. Gilraen would stick to this but toddler Estel soon learns that it takes only 5-7 minutes of crying until Elrond both gives in and apologises to him for the delay. Gilraen is firmly convinced that the child’s toddler phase lasting twice as long as normal is entirely Elrond’s fault.

Gilraen has to deal with Elrond’s habit of saying completely unhinged stuff in plain view of Valar and Eldar. Once, baby Estel was wailing in his arms and had to be passed over to Gilraen because he was hungry, so she pulls on a scarf and starts breastfeeding the child. Elrond stands around looking morose and she feels sorry for him, assuming he was sad about his wife or something normal. That is, until he pipes up with “I wish I could do that” and “it hurts my feelings to know I cannot meet all his needs”. He is taken aback when Gilraen asks him what the fuck is wrong with him.

She’s the first person outside his close circle that he talks to about Celebrían, and oh boy does he TALK. Gilraen has never met the woman, but often feels like Cel is her very best friend, due to how much she knows about her.

Though there is absolutely zero romantic feeling between the two, Gilraen and Elrond spend the 20 years of Estel’s youth bickering like an old married couple. It gives them both an odd sense of normalcy and, in a way, relief from grief over their respective spouses. Would Gilraen and Elrond ever admit that the 20 hours they spent arguing over how often Estel needed haircuts and what style said cuts should be were some of the most fun they’ve had since their bereavements? No, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

When Estel was young enough for bedtime stories, they would alternate nights between them, with Elrond telling him stories of the First Age, and Gilraen telling him adventure stories of men and rangers. Estel’s favourite nights though, are the ones in which they collaborate and tell long, convoluted, nonsensical stories and argue over the existence of morals, teaming up to force the El-twins and Glorfindel to act as glorified puppets.

Elrond, who cannot exactly gossip with other elves due to his status, discovers his inner mean girl only in his friendship with Gilraen. The two of them are massive bitches, no two ways about it, to the point they even lock eyes at public dinners when someone is wearing something particularly gaudy or ostentatious (usually Glorfindel) and giggle away about it later. Straight up preteen girl shit, unashamed and unapologetic, to the point they have a set of inside jokes about most people in Imladris, including their children. If you think they sound like wine mums, that’s because they do. Cont’d under cut.

When Estel is thirteen, he faces his first heartbreak and goes to his mother, who quizzes the tearful boy about what happened. Estel explains that he had a crush on some girl from a village outside the valley and, on advice from an unnamed source, spent the past year not saying a word about it until the girl went and got herself an actual boyfriend. Estel doesn’t share the source of said advice, but that does not stop Gilraen marching into Elrond’s study with “when I said you should instruct my son to be like you, I meant in war and lore, not the art of being a tongue-tied twit!”

When Aragorn told his mother of his betrothal to Arwen, she congratulated him and told him she was happy for him. She also forced him to go to Elrond and confess properly, though he knew, and refused to intervene on her son’s behalf or ask his foster father to temper his anger. And after Aragorn went back out as a ranger and Arwen went to Lothlorien, it was Gilraen who went to Elrond’s study and sat with him for hours.

When she leaves to return to her people, he understands and obviously allows it. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t stop being a pain in her ass, mind you. At least once or twice a year, he would travel up to stay at her house and they would drink and chat and argue for hours, to the point that their neighbours simply refuse to believe that the weirdo in the garden trying to mansplain seed transplanting to Gilraen was, in fact, the ancient and esteemed Lord of Imladris. Imagine Gandalf but insufferable, and that’s what Elrond is for this specific Dunedain neighbourhood.

He does, of course, note as she ages and it begins to visibly grieve him. She notices this and on one visit, catching him look at her like he cannot bear to do this any longer, takes him aside and tells him not to come again, “because I will only grow older. Because my hair will turn whiter and my face more wrinkled and perhaps my teeth will fall out, my skin will sag, and I will forget who you are. And then one day I will stop growing old and I think watching a thing like this twice over will be the end of you”. He understands mercy disguised as cruelty more than most, and though there are many tears on both sides, he respects her decision.

Elrond understandably feels out of place and too small for his own skin in the immediate aftermath of Arwen and Aragorn’s wedding and takes to wandering aimlessly in his own gardens until he comes across the old memorial sculpture he had commissioned of Gilraen, and in a characteristic burst of eccentricity, starts chatting with it about the wedding. Tells her how ridiculous Glorfindel looked, how Aragorn fumbled the necklace (“butterfingers, Gilly, just like his mother!”), how he had to make Arwen take off the godawful tiara Celeborn got her and wear something normal, and how she would have “loved Bilbo Baggins, he’d have fit right in at our brunches”. It was absolutely batshit, him sitting there talking at a marble statue, but it was, in its strange way, incredibly comforting.

[amitiel-truth]

River Maiden Pt. 7

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11,

(A/N: You know you guys can ask me anything, right?)

With bated breaths, Penelope and (Y/N) stands guard to protect themselves, watching the door for the worse, as (Y/N) stands in front of Penelope, the dagger given to her tightly held onto her hand, preparing herself.

After a few hours screaming, silence took over, the Palace had never been more quiet, it's like

"The Suitors... it's like they're gone..." (Y/N) mutters, looking at Penelope in shock

Queen Penelope gazes around in surprise, her ears straining, trying to listen closely. It was unusual for such silence to fall over the Suitors, and it was setting her on edge.

"Where...could they have gone?" she wonders, her voice hushed as to not draw attention to them. Her eyes narrow, a hint of suspicion flickering in them.

Suddenly, a knock was heard, soft and familiar

"Mother? (Y/N)?" It's Telemachus

"Telemachus!" (Y/N) springs to her feet, removing the barricades, Penelope also follows, making the process faster, pushing the cabinet away, (Y/N) quickly opens the door.

Telemachus steps through the door, his face filled with relief as he sees the two women on the other side. He immediately goes to them, wrapping them in a firm hug.

"Mother...(Y/N)...I'm glad to see you both safe and unharmed," he breathes, holding them tightly against him.

"My love, you're covered in blood!" (Y/N) panics once more, caressing his face through his helmet.

"It's alright, it's not mine," Telemachus reassures her, removing his helmet and placing a hand over hers as she cups his cheek. He gives her a tired smile, though his eyes are still filled with exhaustion and tension from the journey home.

"And the guards, are they-"

"They're fine, I just dismissed them for the day. Oh, thank the Gods I gave you two guards." Telemachus praises, hugging (Y/N) tightly, before turning to look at his Mother.

"He's here" Telemachus says to her, his eyes filled with joy.

Queen Penelope can't help the flicker of happiness and relief that crosses her face at Telemachus's words. She steps closer to him, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"He...is?" she repeats softly, a hint of disbelief in her voice. Even after so many, many years. she had not lost hope that her husband would come back.

"We'll leave you both to talk" Telemachus leads (Y/N) out of the Queen's quarters, passing by a very tired, bloody man.

The tired, bloodied man looks up as Telemachus and Egeria pass by, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. Telemachus pauses for a moment as their gazes meet, a flash of recognition in his eyes. He gives the man a nod before continuing to escort (Y/N) out of the hall.

(Y/N) recognizes the man to be the Beggar she helped. "Telemachus, is he?..."

Telemachus nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, that was him," he confirms quietly. "He's alive, (Y/N). He's finally come back to us."

(Y/N) smiles at him. "Your family's finally complete" She muses.

Telemachus smiles warmly at (Y/N) words. The thought of his family finally being reunited after so many years is a weight lifted from his shoulders. He wraps an arm around her, pulling her close to him.

"Yes, we are," he replies, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And...I have you, as well."

(Y/N) smiles, hugging him back.

"Oh, How I've missed you, my Love." (Y/N) admits, hugging him tightly, despite all the blood on him, she didn't care, her Prince is back.

After days of clean up and punishments being sorted out onto the servants who betrayed the crown. The day finally came. It was time for (Y/N), his beloved fiancée, to meet his father, Odysseus.

"Love, Is my hair perfect? My clothes kept? Ooh, I'm so nervous" (Y/N) paces in place, rubbing her hands, fixing her hairpieces on her (h/l) (h/c) hair, straightening her peplus.

Telemachus chuckled warmly at (Y/N) nervous pacing. She was so endearing when she was this flustered. He took her hands in his and pulled her closer, looking deep into her eyes.

"(Y/N), my love," he said gently, "You look absolutely beautiful, as always. And my father is going to adore you, I know it."

"But...I'm no Princess, not even any wealth to show for, heck, You found me bathing in a river... Your Mother may have approved of us, but are you truly certain about me?" (Y/N) asked with a frown, second guessing their choices.

Telemachus's expression softened even more at (Y/N)'s words. He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them gently.

"(Y/N), you are more precious to me than any Princess or wealth could ever be. I am certain of you, more than I have ever been of anything. My mother's approval was a gift, but it is nothing compared to how much you are loved by me." He gazed into her eyes reassuringly.

(Y/N) her head to Telemachus's, looking for reassurance, before taking a deep breath, smiling at him.

"I'm glad you didn't fall in love with me for just my body" (Y/N) teases, reminding him of their second meeting by the river.

Telemachus chuckled, a hint of color rising to his cheeks as the memory of their second meeting flooded back. He pulled her closer and nuzzled her hair.

"I admit, your body is...quite unforgettable," he said with a smirk. "But I fell in love with you for so much more. Your laughter, your spirit, your kindness, your strength...the list is endless, my love."

"Oh you" (Y/N) muses, pulling his face up to hers to kiss him.

Telemachus's body instinctively relaxed as her lips met his, the familiar sensation of her kiss calming his nerves. As their lips separated, Telemachus couldn't help but let out a soft sigh.

"You make my heart race, even after all this time," he murmured, his eyes locked into hers. "You know I'd have stayed in that river with you forever, if I could."

"And yet you sneaked me to your room for...a second round" (Y/N) teases with a smile.

Telemachus chuckled at the memory, his grin widening.

"Yes, well, if I recall correctly, you were quite persuasive," he teased back. "How could I resist, when the most beautiful nymph in the land was in my bed, asking for more?"

"When will you ever stop your nymph theories?" (Y/N) asked, rubbing her nose against his.

Telemachus laughed softly, enjoying the playful contact. He ran a hand through her hair, a gesture he knew she loved.

"When will you ever stop resembling one so much," he retorted, his tone full of affection. "With your (H/L) tresses, your (E/C) eyes, and the way you move like water...you're the very image of a nymph, my love."

"I'm surprised you haven't impregnated me yet~" (Y/N) teases seductively.

Telemachus's eyes darkened at her words, a flicker of desire passing over his face.

"Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind...more than once," he replied, his voice low and filled with longing.

He gently pushed her back against the wall behind her, his body pressing closely to hers. His hands moved to her hips, and he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You know I want nothing more than to make you mine completely...in every way possible."

"Maybe that can wait after you introduce your bride to your Father, right, Telemachus?" Suddenly, the throne room opens, his mother saw the whole thing.

Telemachus quickly pulled back from (Y/N), his cheeks warm with embarrassment at being caught. His mother's raised eyebrow was a clear reprimand.

"Mother," Telemachus began, struggling to regain his composure. "I...we were just—"

"Apologies, Mother" (Y/N) walks up to her with a smile.

"As I've said before, Your son can't keep his hand to himself" (Y/N) sighs, putting blame on Telemachus.

Telemachus opened his mouth to protest, but (Y/N)'s words caught him off guard. He gave her a half-hearted glare, knowing he had been caught in the act.

Telemachus's mother smiled at (Y/N)'s honesty.

"Yes, I'm well aware of my son's...attentions," she said, her gaze shifting to Telemachus. "I've seen more than I care to admit, and I have no doubt I'll see more before your wedding."

Telemachus, still blushing, ran a hand through his hair. "Mother, I was just—"

His mother held up a hand, cutting him off. "Save it, my dear. I'm only teasing you. But do try to keep your public displays of affection a bit more discreet, if you would. Your Father is waiting" Penelope opens the door more, walking back in

Telemachus took a deep breath, trying to calm his flushed cheeks. He took (Y/N)'s hand, giving her a playful nudge.

"Well, let's not keep him waiting any longer," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of nerves.

With his mother watching them, Telemachus led (Y/N) into the throne room, his heart pounding in his chest.

(Y/N) held his hand tightly, taking a deep breath.

Telemachus squeezed her hand reassuringly, feeling the same nervous energy pulsing through her. They walked into the throne room and Telemachus's father, Odysseus, stood from his throne to greet them.

Odysseus's eyes flicked between Telemachus and (Y/N). He studied (Y/N) with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. "So, this is the young woman who has captured my son's heart?" he said, his voice gruff.

"Your Majesty, If I may introduce myself, I am (Y/N) of Gibraltar." (Y/N) bowed, introducing herself.

Odysseus's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"(Y/N) of Gibraltar, you say?" he mused, his gaze appraising. "A long journey from that distant land, to find yourself here, in our humble kingdom."

His tone was not unkind, but there was a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “What could have made you give up your homeland for Telemachus?”

"Oh, I didn't even know of the Prince, I went to Ithaca to start a new life, a fresh start, and live in the wilderness in solitude, that was the plan at first, until I met your son" (Y/N) explains, looking at the ground, blushing a bit.

Odysseus nodded, his gaze shifting from (Y/N) to Telemachus.

"And how did this chance meeting come to be?" he asked, his gaze studying Telemachus intently. "You found her bathing in the river, I suppose?"

Telemachus and (Y/N) grew quite at how accurate Odysseus's guess is, blushing.

Odysseus chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I knew it," he said, his gruff tone turning into a teasing one. "My son has always had a weakness for beautiful nymphs. I suppose he found you bathing and was immediately smitten, hmm?"

"Oh, not you too theorizing I'm a nymph" (Y/N) sighs, a hand over her face.

Odysseus laughed heartily, his demeanor thawing somewhat.

"Well, you can hardly blame us," he said, giving (Y/N) an admiring glance. "With your (E/C) eyes and (h/l) tresses, you look like you were plucked straight from the riverbanks."

As Odysseus's laughter subsided, his expression grew more serious. He turned his gaze to Telemachus, his eyes studying his son intently.

"And you, Telemachus," he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "You're sure of your feelings for this young woman? You know nothing of her background, her family..." (Y/N) lips pursed, looking at the ground.

Telemachus met his father's gaze, his expression unwaveringly confident.

"I am certain of my feelings, Father," he said, his voice firm and steady. "I do not care about her background or family. The heart does not ask such questions. My heart has chosen (Y/N), and nothing else matters to me."

Odysseus leaned back on his throne, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Telemachus knew that look. His father was up to something.

"Very well, then," Odysseus said, his gaze flitting to (Y/N). "If your affection is so unshakable, let us test your claim." Telemachus's brows furrowed slightly, sensing the challenge in his father's words. But he said nothing, trusting that his father had a purpose behind his test.

Odysseus leaned forward, a twinkle in his eyes. "Tell me, Telemachus," he said, his tone casual. "How much did you pay her? I heard the women of Gibraltar are quite expensive."

"Excuse me?" (Y/N) asked, raising her head.

The king let out another laugh as Penelope shot him a look. Telemachus tensed again as his father continued to chuckle and leaned forward slightly in the throne.

”Well, you have to pay for something this valuable, don’t ya?”

The king continued with a smirk, eyeing you and Telemachus’ intertwined hands.

”I’ve traveled all around the Mediterranean Sea, and women like you don’t fall into a man’s lap without him being very, very wealthy.”

(Y/N) grew quite for a moment, taking a deep breath, before smirking. "With all due respect, Sir, I simply went to Ithaca to start a new life of solitude, your son was the one who couldn't stay away when he found me bathing in one of the rivers of Ithaca.

if you think so poorly of me, then that's too bad, I don't have plans of letting go of him as he does with me" (Y/N) bites back with a smirk, remembering Queen Penelope's lesson of her being unflappable.

Telemachus's heart swelled with pride at (Y/N)'s words. He gripped her hand tighter, silently applauding her bravery and confidence in the face of his father's challenging remarks.

Odysseus's eyes widened at (Y/N)'s retort, and his smirk faded slightly. He hadn't expected her to speak so unapologetically and confidently. He glanced briefly over at Penelope, who had a secret smile on her face, clearly impressed.

Odysseus sat back in his throne, the air in the room suddenly quieter, thicker.

(Y/N) looks at him in the eyes with a tight frown, unwavering.

Telemachus watched the interaction between (Y/N) and his father intently. He could see the surprise and begrudging respect in Odysseus's eyes at (Y/N)'s unflinching gaze and bold response.

"It seems," Odysseus said slowly, leaning back in his throne, "I have underestimated you, young lady....but it remains to be seen if you're worthy of my son."

He held her gaze for a few more moments, his expression inscrutable.

There was a charged silence in the room as Odysseus scrutinized (Y/N), the tension between them almost palpable. Telemachus remained quiet, but his grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened in a silent show of support.

After what felt like an eternity, Odysseus finally nodded. "Well, you have fire, I'll give you that."

Odysseus looked at them, his gaze steady and filled with gratitude. “When I stood among the suitors, mocked and insulted, stripped of my name and my pride, you stood apart. You defended me, a beggar in their eyes, and gave me what no riches could buy—kindness, food, and a place to rest. In that moment, you revealed your true nature: noble, compassionate, and far greater than any of those men who claimed to be worthy. I will not forget what you did for me.”

He thought about how she had cared for him without knowing his true identity, without any expectations or ulterior motives. It was a genuine act of kindness, something rare and sincere. Odysseus had been all over the place, and he knew all too well how rare that was.

"You've got kindness and a sharp tongue," he said, a touch of approval in his voice. "A dangerous combination."

In the midst of Odysseus's thoughts, another memory came to the forefront. When the suitors had grown even more bold, planning to raid the castle, attack Telemachus as he was on his way home, and take (Y/N) and Penelope for themselves, (Y/N) had not run. Instead, she had stood tall, protecting him and Penelope by stationing her remaining guards outside their bedroom door and standing watch with nothing but a dagger, determined to defend them.

"You've got bravery as well. The guts to stand and fight...to protect what you care about," he said, his voice softer than before, his gaze flickering to Telemachus. "That kind of loyalty doesn't come easily."

Odysseus looked (Y/N) in the eyes and spoke his next words with surprising earnestness. "I also want to thank you," he said, his voice gruff but sincere. "For protecting my wife when the suitors were getting particularly...aggressive."

"You could've fled to safety yourself," he added, "but instead, you stood your ground. That...takes strength."

Penelope, who had been quietly watching the whole ordeal, smiled softly at her husband's words. She knew how much he loved and valued her, and it warmed her heart to hear him thank (Y/N) for defending her.

"It was nothing, Your Majesty, it was the right thing to do" (Y/N) answered with a smile.

a small smile tugging at the corner of his Odysseus lips. "Well, not everyone does the right thing, especially when faced with danger," he said. "But it seems...I've judged you too harshly. You're a lot more than just a pretty face, aren't you?"

"Why do you think I wanted to live in the woods in solitude?" (Y/N) quips with a grin with a shrug.

Odysseus chuckled at (Y/N)'s retort, admiring her spunk.

"You're quick too," he said, leaning back in his throne. "I guess solitude didn't dampen your wit, eh?"

"It's what got your son's attention" (Y/N) added.

"Ah, yes," Odysseus said, eyeing Telemachus, who had been mostly silent, taking in the exchange. "I can see my son has good taste. Sharp wits, bravery...and beauty. There's only one thing that concerns me."

He leaned forward, his gaze flickering to (Y/N). His voice grew more serious.

"You're a foreigner. You're from a land far from Ithaca. How do I know you won't up and leave one day, taking Telemachus's heart with you?"

(Y/N) chuckles, shaking her head.

"Don't think so lowly of me, Your Majesty, there are no places I'd rather go without him" (Y/N) answers with a sigh.

"And now that you mentioned it, he's probably planning on chaining me to his bed." (Y/N) commented, placing a hand on her cheek, troubled, while on the insides she's thinking of...unholy ideas.

Telemachus, who had been silently listening, blushed furiously at her quip, looking anywhere but at his father.

Odysseus raised his eyebrows at her comment, a slight smirk playing on his lips. Penelope bit back a laugh.

"Chaining you to his bed, hmm?" Odysseus mused, glancing at Telemachus, who was still blushing furiously.

"Are you sure you want to marry a man who is this," Odysseus gestured to Telemachus, who had buried his head in his hands, blushing furiously, "easy to fluster?" he joked, enjoying the spectacle.

"The best kind of man to marry" (Y/N) looks at the flustered Telemachus. fondly.

"His everything I could ever ask for."

Odysseus's smirk softened, his mind flickering to a memory of his own. Years ago, when he was young and fiery like Telemachus, he too had been easy to fluster, especially when he was around Penelope.

He studied (Y/N) and Telemachus, seeing the genuine affection between them, and his resistance softened. Telemachus and (Y/N)'s relationship mirrored his own youthful passionate love for Penelope, and it stirred something within him.

Penelope watched (Y/N) and Telemachus's interaction with a soft smile. She recognized the look of youthful love, of two people completely smitten with each other.

She glanced at Odysseus and saw a hint of softness in his eyes as he watched Telemachus and (Y/N). It reminded her of how they were in their younger days, just as infatuated and devoted to each other.

She laid a hand on Odysseus's arm and spoke up for the first time since the discussion started.

"They're very much in love, don't you think, my dear?" she said, her voice gentle but holding a hint of amusement, knowing it would get a rise out of Odysseus.

Odysseus shot her a sidelong glance, rolling his eyes playfully, but there was no heat behind it.

"They're young," he grumbled, pretending to look annoyed, "they're always 'in love' at that age, aren't they?"

Penelope let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Yes, and I'm sure you were no exception," she teased, referring to his own tumultuous youthful love affair with her.

Odysseus huffed out an embarrassed laugh, knowing full well he was caught.

"Ah, well, I was young and foolish," he said gruffly, scratching his chin. "We've grown wiser since then, haven't we, my love?"

Penelope smiled, her eyes filled with warmth.

"We have, my dear," she agreed, patting his arm affectionately. "But it's endearing to see Telemachus and (Y/N) in the throes of love like we once were. Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

Odysseus gave a grunt of agreement. His stern demeanor softened as he looked back at Telemachus and (Y/N), who were too engrossed in each other to notice the conversation between Odysseus and Penelope.

"Aye, it does," he admitted quietly, his gaze turning a shade reminiscent. "Youthful love...it's a powerful thing, isn't it?"

Penelope smiled, sensing the hint of nostalgia in her husband's voice. She knew that behind his gruff exterior, Odysseus still harbored a soft spot for young love.

"It certainly is," she agreed, her voice soft. "And it seems Telemachus has found a love that's just as fiery as we had in our youth."

Odysseus sat on his throne, contemplating Telemachus and (Y/N) for a few more moments before finally making up his mind. He took a deep breath and spoke, his voice firm but his eyes holding a hint of acceptance.

"Telemachus," he said, his eyes flickering to his son, "I can see how much you care for this young woman. And I've seen her bravery firsthand. She's not some fragile thing to be protected, she can stand on her own two feet and fight when she needs to."

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. Telemachus's grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened, a silent plea for a favorable verdict.

Odysseus continued, his eyes shifting between Telemachus and (Y/N). "If you truly believe she's the one you want to spend your life with, then I'd be a fool to stand in your way."

"So...I grant you my blessing," he said, his voice gruff but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. Telemachus let out a sigh of relief, his face lighting up. Penelope chuckled quietly, pleased at her husband's decision.

"Thank you, Your Majesty" (Y/N) bows once more.

Odysseus raised a finger, his expression firm.

"But," he said, his voice turning serious again, "there are a couple of things I need to make clear. First, Telemachus," he looked at his son, "you are the heir to my throne. You have duties and responsibilities to Ithaca and our people. No matter what, your duties come first."

Telemachus nodded quickly, understanding the weight of his father's words. "Of course, Father," he said, his voice steady. "I will honor my duties and lead Ithaca with honor."

"Good," Odysseus nodded, satisfied with Telemachus's response. His gaze then shifted to Egeria. "And you, (Y/N), you understand what comes with being Telemachus's wife one day. You're not just marrying him, you're marrying into a world of responsibilities, politics, and, of course," he added with a small smirk, " with me as your father-in-law."

(Y/N) smiles brightly " I wouldn't have it any other way"

Odysseus couldn't help but chuckle at Egeria's quick response. He was starting to respect her spunk, a quality he appreciated.

"Well, that's good to hear," he said, his voice laced with humor. "Because you're in for a wild, if not a little insane, ride."

He pointed a finger at them, his smile turning a bit stern again. "And one more thing...no late-night escapades, you hear me? Ithaca doesn't need any...unexpected surprises just yet."

(Y/N) and Telemachus blushes, looking at the ground, unable to look at him in the eye.

The sight of Telemachus and (Y/N) blushing and avoiding eye contact with him was a sight Odysseus hadn't anticipated. He was expecting them to object or laugh off his warning. Instead, they looked like they got caught red-handed.

His eyebrows raised, a tinge of suspicion in his eyes. "What...are you not telling me?" he asked, his voice laced with wary curiosity.

"They have been coupling since the second day they met" Penelope reveals, stringing the pot.

"MOM!" Telemachus protested, his face as red as a tomato.

Odysseus's eyes widened, looking back and forth between Telemachus and (Y/N), both turning furiously red.

"What...?" Odysseus blurted out, looking at Penelope. "They've been doing what since...the second day they met?!"

"I know." Penelope looks at him with a teasing grin.

(Penelope knows because of the chats she has with (Y/N) in between lessons.)

Odysseus ran a hand through his hair, still in disbelief. He was caught off guard by this revelation. He knew Telemachus was young and smitten, but he didn't realize things had progressed so quickly.

"By the gods," he muttered, turning to Telemachus and (Y/N), who were still unable to look him in the eye. "This...is a lot to process, especially so fast. Telemachus, I thought...you said you were taking things slow."

"And what? They did it by the river where they met, like how our bed is the olive tree that we first met?" Odysseus asked just trying to make light in the situation...it didn't help, as the two grew quieter, and redder.

Telemachus and (Y/N) looked like they wanted the ground to open up and swallow them whole.

Odysseus's eyes widened as the pieces started falling into place. "Wait...wait a minute..."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to wrap his head around the idea that his son had taken things much, much farther than he had let on.

"By the river...?" he repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

Odysseus's face contorted as he tried to process Telemachus's...efficiency. He was both annoyed and, oddly enough, somewhat impressed by his son's tenacity.

"I have to say, Telemachus," he began, looking at his son with a mixture of irritation and reluctant admiration, "you certainly don't waste time, do you? It took me several months to court your Mother, and yet you..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Well, you're faster than your old man, I'll give you that."

"If it's any consolation, Sir, your son can't keep his hands to himself" (Y/N) passes the blame to Telemachus once more.

Telemachus shot (Y/N) a betrayed look, his face growing even redder, if that was possible.

Odysseus's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. He looked between Telemachus and (Y/N), clearly enjoying Telemachus's discomfort.

"Oh, really now?" he said, scratching his jaw, his tone filled with amusement.

"So, my son's been a bit... handsy, has he?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

Odysseus glanced at Telemachus, who looked like he was trying to disappear on where he stood, before looking back at (Y/N). "And you're not exactly the quiet, demure type, are you?"

"Sir, if there's a blushing, adorable Prince, what is there to not decide on?" (Y/N) asked, tilting her head, making Telemachus embarrassed once more.

Odysseus chuckled, appreciating (Y/N) bluntness. "Fair enough, that's a good point."

As (Y/N) spoke, Telemachus looked about ready to sink where he stood with embarrassment.

Odysseus's mind then wandered to a different thought, realizing the implications of (Y/N) and Telemachus's...close relationship.

He raised an eyebrow, a sly smile on his lips. "You know, that also means I could expect grandchildren sooner than I anticipated."

Telemachus looked absolutely mortified, burying his face in his hands. He was clearly not ready to think about that just yet.

Odysseus, on the other hand, was now having too much fun with Telemachus's discomfort. He had to give credit where it was due; his son had chosen a partner who could certainly hold her own.

"Oh, don't look so embarrassed, Telemachus," he teased, enjoying every minute of it. "Every man becomes a father at some point. I suppose you'll be one sooner rather than later."

Telemachus mumbled something inaudible, still hiding his face.

Odysseus turned his attention to (Y/N), who seemed to be enjoying the banter just as much as he was.

"And you, my future daughter-in-law," he said, his voice teasing, "you seem quite eager to become a mother."

"If it's with him, I don't mind" (Y/N) answers honestly.

Odysseus's smile broadened. He had to respect (Y/N)'s directness and honesty. Telemachus, on the other hand, managed to turn an even deeper shade of red, if that was possible.

"Well, isn't that sweet?" Odysseus said, his tone still laced with playful sarcasm. "You two are eager to start a family, aren't you?"

After a long day of teasing, (Y/N) and Telemachus are finally dismissed, as they begin walking back to Telemachus's room.

"Well that went better than expected" (Y/N) says in thought, while Telemachus is behind her, hugging her with his face on her shoulder while walking.

Telemachus mumbled something indistinguishable with his face buried in (Y/N)'s shoulder.

As they continued walking, Telemachus's words became clearer. "You were enjoying that, weren't you?" he said, his voice muffled but a hint of amusement in his tone.

He lifted his head to look at (Y/N)'s. "I was the one getting teased half to death, and you seemed to be loving every minute of it."

"Oh, I'm sorry, My Love." (Y/N) pecked his lips.

"Do you want me to make it up to you?~" (Y/N) asked with a seductive smile.

Telemachus's mood lifted instantly. Despite the earlier embarrassment, he couldn't help but smile at her words.

"And how do you plan on making it up to me, hm?" he said, his voice playful. "I hope you have something..." he leaned in close, whispering in her ear, "sinful in mind."

"Well, I know you have some rope under your bed, it's not a chain but... it'll do~" (Y/N) smiled, rubbing his chest.

Telemachus's eyes widened slightly at her bold suggestion, his heart starting to race a bit faster.

"Oh, so you know about those, do you?" he said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, but the excitement was evident in his voice.

"And you think you can handle them, hm?" He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Only one way to find out, My possessive Prince~" (Y/N) swoons, caressing his cheek.

Telemachus shivered at the touch on his cheek; her caresses always sent a pleasant tingling sensation through him.

"You're testing my limits, love," he said, his voice dropping to a deeper, huskier tone. He gently pushed her back against the wall, pinning her there with his body.

"I don't know if you're ready for just how possessive I can get."

"Let's find out~"

Telemachus, his dominant tendencies surfacing, grinned as he scooped (Y/N) up, tossing her over his shoulder.

🔞🔞🔞

He chuckled at her surprised gasp, his hand resting firmly on her backside as he walked them towards the room.

"You're playing a dangerous game, my love," he said, his voice a mix of desire and determination.

(Y/N) giggles, before gasping as Telemachus spanked her

Telemachus's hand connected with the soft curve of (Y/N)'s backside with a sharp slap, eliciting a gasp from her that made him smile.

He was enjoying this, relishing in the control and the power he held over her at the moment, even as he continued carrying her to the room.

"You seem to enjoy being naughty, don't you?" he said, his voice turning a little darker. "You like riling me up, making me want to put you in your place, don't you?"

"Anything to make you ravenous~" (Y/N) teases with a smile.

Telemachus grunts in approval at her words, feeling a wave of intense desire wash over him.

He pushes open the door to the room and kicks it shut behind them, still carrying (Y/N) over his shoulder. He tosses her onto the bed with a smirk.

"You're asking for it, love," he said, his eyes darkening with desire. "And I don't think you have any idea just how ravenously possessive I can get."

"I think I have an idea~" She answers, laying on his bed

Telemachus leans over her, enjoying the view of (Y/N) lying on his bed, dressed in her classic peplos.

He runs a hand along the edge of her peplos, his eyes drinking in her form.

"You look like a goddess laid out before me," he says, his voice thick with desire. "And I'm about to ravage you like one."

"then what are you waiting for? That's not how you worship your goddess" (Y/N) pouted at him.

Telemachus chuckled, her pout inciting a mixture of amusement and desire within him.

"So impatient," he said, his hand gliding down to the hem of her peplos. "But what kind of worshipper would I be if I didn't pay the proper homage to my goddess?"

With a swift movement, he flipped her over, positioning her on her stomach. Telemachus's hand pressed firmly against her lower back, pinning her down to the bed.

"Now, you're in a prime position to be worshipped, love."

His eyes darted to the edge of the bed where the ropes were hidden under the sheets. A wicked smile spread across his face.

"You want to be worshipped, love?" he purred, his hand sliding up and down the bare skin of her leg. "Then I need you completely at my mercy."

He moved away from the bed, grabbing the ropes and returning to her side.

"Lift your hands toward me," he commanded, his voice authoritative and unwavering.

(Y/N) blushes, lifting her arms up onto while still laying on her stomach, with Telemachus pining her down on his bed.

Telemachus's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she raised her arms obediently.

He took the ropes and started wrapping them around her wrists, securing them together. Then he lifted her arms over her head and secured the other end to the bed frame, effectively restraining her.

Leaning down, he spoke in her ear, his voice low and commanding. "Now, you're completely surrender to my will."

(Y/N) blushes heavily, burying her face onto the bed.

Seeing her face flushed with embarrassment and arousal sent a jolt of pleasure through Telemachus. He loved seeing her so submissive and vulnerable, completely at his mercy.

He took a moment to admire the sight before him — (Y/N), lying face down, her arms bound above her head, and at his complete disposal.

Telemachus ran his hand down her back, feeling the warmth of her skin. "You look so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice both tender and possessive. "Completely mine to do with as I please

Telemachus tugged at the hem of her peplos, slowly lifting the fabric. His breath quickened at the sight of her bare skin being revealed to him inch by inch.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this," he said, his voice slightly hoarse with desire. "Completely vulnerable, completely at my mercy, completely mine."

He continued lifting the peplos, slowly exposing more and more of her body to his view. Telemachus's eyes roamed over her, taking in every inch of her skin greedily.

His hands caressed her exposed flesh, tracing the contours of her waist, her hips, her thighs. Each touch was a gentle yet possessive claim, as if he were marking her as his own.

"Do you feel how much I want you, love?" he murmured, his hands roaming over her back. "How addicted I am to every inch of you?"

Telemachus's hands moved up her back, pausing for a moment before cupping her ample bossoms from behind. He couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly they fit in his hands, as if they were made for him.

"You're perfect," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Everything about you."

He leaned down, pressing his lips against the back of her neck, his arms wrapping around her middle. "I can't get enough of you," he confessed, his voice a mixture of passion and possessiveness.

(Y/N) blushes heavily at his touches, as she felt Telemachus remove her perizoma, leaving her completely bare to him

Telemachus's eyes widened at the sight of her, completely bare before him. His breath hitched in his throat as his hands continued to explore her body, roaming over her smooth skin without restraint.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Like a goddess come to life."

He pushed her down onto the bed, his hands moving to her thighs. "I can't wait any longer," he said, his voice almost a growl. "I have to have you."

(Y/N) whines, gasping as she feels Telemachus inside her, gripping onto the bed. barely able move her hands, being tied to the bed, all she could do is moan.

Telemachus continued to thrust into her, his pace increasing with each passing moment. The room was filled with the sound of their moans and breathing, punctuated by the occasional gasp or whisper of Telemachus's name from (Y/N).

He looked down at her, her body completely at his mercy, bound by the ropes and his will. It was a sight that further intensified his possessive nature.

With a growl, he leaned down, nipping at her ear

Telemachus's lips moved from her ear down to her neck, his breaths hot against her skin. He sucked and nibbled at her neck, leaving his mark on her, claiming her as his own.

His hands roamed over her body, caressing and exploring, as he continued to thrust into her. Telemachus's possessive nature was in full control now, fueled by the sight of

"I'm...hah...close~" (Y/N) moans, daring not to muffle her moans.

Telemachus feels himself getting close, as the feeling of the intimacy of the moment and the way her body feels wrapped around him brings him to the edge.

"You...me too," he says, his words punctuated with moans. He leans down, his face inches away from hers. "Come for me, love."

"My Love...please, inside~" (Y/N) begs, holding his hand besides hers as she's still on her stomach, panting.

Telemachus's body shudders with desire at her words, his willpower hanging by a thread. The sound of her plead almost sends him over the edge, and he knows he can't deny her.

He leans down, his lips against her ear. "Anything you want, my love," he whispers. "You're mine, body and soul. I'll do anything you wish."

With that, he quickens the pace, his breaths coming in ragged gas

(Y/N) moans loudly, reaching her end, holding Telemachus's hand tightly, tightening around him.

Telemachus can't hold back any longer. Feeling her tighten around him, hearing her moan his name, sends him over the edge.

With a guttural moan, he reaches his climax, his body trembling with ecstasy. He grips her hips.

Telemachus's body jerks as he releases himself inside her, a moan escaping his lips as he's overcome by the pleasure. The room is filled with their labored breaths, the sound of their shared ecstasy.

He collapses on top of her, his body damp with sweat, still buried deep within her. Telemachus nuzzles into her neck, his lips against her skin.

(Y/N) pants, burying her face in his sheets, her hands still tied up.

Telemachus takes a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving up and down. He slips out of her, unties her wrists and pulls her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.

After Telemachus gently unties the ropes, freeing her wrists. He massages them softly, his touch tender.

"Are you alright, love?" he whispers against her hair, his voice filled with concern. Telemachus presses gentle kisses against her forehead and temples.

"you pulled out of me" (Y/N) pouted with a frown.

Telemachus chuckled, amused by her pout. He playfully pinched her nose.

"I did, love. I want you to get some rest after all that. Plus..." his expression darkened, his possessive nature flaring up again, "I want you to know that I'm not quite finished with you yet. When the time is right, I'm going to take you all over again...

And I want you to be nice and ready for it, I've missed you, after all" he said, his voice low and husky.

"Oooh, I love the sound of that." (Y/N) smiled excitedly, pecking his lips

Telemachus captured her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His hands roamed over her body, unable to get enough of her.

"You're like a drug, love," he murmured huskily. "I can't get enough of you. The way you respond to me, the way you feel in my arms..."

He pulled her closer, his hands tracing the curves of her body. "I'm addicted to you, in every way possible."

"You memorized my body on the second day we met, haven't you?~" (Y/N) muses, tracing a finger on his chest.

Telemachus chuckled, his eyes roving over her body.

"Yes, I have," he confessed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Every curve, every mark...every sensitive spot."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "And I plan on using that knowledge to my full advantage," he whispered, his voice heavy with promise.

Telemachus chuckled, his eyes roving over her body.

"Yes, I have," he confessed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Every curve, every mark...every sensitive spot."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "And I plan on using that knowledge to my full advantage," he whispered, his voice heavy with promise.

"Such a caring Lover, I could never ask for anyone this perfect~" (Y/N) muses, kissing his lips.

Telemachus's heart swelled with affection at her words. He deepened the kiss, his hands cradling her face.

"You deserve nothing but perfection, my love," he murmured against her lips. "I'll do anything to make you happy, to give you everything you desire. You're my world, my everything."

He broke the kiss, his gaze intense as he looked into her eyes. "I'm the luckiest man alive to have you by my side."

"You seem to misunderstand, I'm the luckiest woman alive to have you by my side" (Y/N) smiles at him, pressing her forehead against his.

"I don't regret ever making love with you on the second day we've met."

Telemachus's expression softened, filled with tenderness and affection.

"My love, you're too modest," he murmured, his thumbs tracing circles on her cheeks. "You're the one who captured my heart from the moment we met. Your eyes, your smile..." he chuckled softly. "Your audacity."

He pulled her closer, the heat of their bodies merging once again. "And I certainly have no regrets either. Those moments together, that closeness we shared... I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."

Telemachus's mind flashed back to the beginning of his journey, a few short months ago when he was a weak, troubled young prince. He thought of how far he had come, and how much he had changed.

He couldn't help but marvel at the strange twists of fate that had led him to this moment, lying here with (Y/N), completely enamored and loved unconditionally.

"I was such a different person back then," Telemachus mused aloud. "Weak, uncertain, and in need of guidance...and of love."

"And now..." he looked down at her, her head resting on his chest. "Now, I have you. The woman who's shown me what love truly is."

Telemachus wrapped his arms around her tighter, holding her close. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, (Y/N). You make me complete in ways I could never imagine."

He took a deep breath, his heart full of gratitude and affection. "I love you more than words can express, and I'm so grateful to have you in my life."

"And now..." he looked down at her, her head resting on his chest. "Now, I have you. The woman who's shown me what love truly is."

"I was fully set to live my days in solitude in the wilderness, only to find out the forest I picked isn't very isolated" (Y/N) jokes, bumping her forehead against his.

"Best decision I've ever made in my life" (Y/N) smiles, kissing his lips.

Telemachus couldn't help but laugh at her joke.

"You truly picked the worst spot for solitude," he teased, shaking his head in amusement. "Though I'm quite grateful for that."

He pulled her closer, gently running his fingers through her hair. "And I wholeheartedly agree that it was the best decision you made."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Because it led you to me."

"You mean me taking a bath in the river and you finding me there" (Y/N) teases with a smile.

Telemachus chuckled at the memory.

"Ah yes, that...fortunate encounter," he said with a smirk. "I'll never forget the sight of you that day, bathing in the river like some nymph."

His eyes darkened with desire as he replayed that moment in his mind.

"And I'll certainly never forget what happened afterwards," he added huskily.

"Makes me want to... recreate what happened after that~" (Y/N) grins seductively at him, rubbing his chest.

Telemachus's body reacted immediately to her words, heat stirring within him.

"Oh, love," he said, his voice already growing huskier. "You know how to drive me wild, don't you?"

He pulled her on top of him, his hands roaming over her bare skin. "If you keep talking like that, I won't be able to control myself."

"Is it too bad that I want you to carry me over your strong shoulder again, throw me into your big bath that's currently filled with water and ravage me like we did in the river?" (Y/N) pouted, tracing a finger on his shoulder, knowingly riling him up.

Telemachus's eyes darkened with desire at her words. The image she painted was tantalizing, almost too much to resist.

"No, love, it's not too bad," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "In fact, it's something I'm more than happy to oblige."

With that, he swiftly picked her up in his strong arms, throwing her over his shoulder, just as she had requested.

(Y/N) squeals as she thrown over his shoulder, gasping as he gripped her ass.

Telemachus's grip on her behind was firm and possessive as he walked towards the bathroom, carrying her with ease.

"You're such a naughty maiden, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "You enjoy it when I manhandle you like this, don't you?"

He entered the bathroom, the sound of water gently lapping against the sides of the tub reaching their ears.

Telemachus walked over to the edge of the tub, still carrying (Y/N) on his shoulder. They were both already naked, the steam from the hot water already coating their skin with a thin layer of condensation.

"Are you ready, love?" Telemachus asked with a smirk, gently setting her down in the tub.

The water rippled around her, the heat enveloping her like a gentle embrace.

"Why keep me waiting, My Dashing Prince?~" (Y/N) pouted, spreading her legs, her pussy still full of his seed, flowing out into the water.

Telemachus groaned at the sight, his body responding immediately to the erotic display.

"You're a temptress, love," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "But I can't keep you waiting any longer."

He climbed into the tub, making his way towards her. The water sloshed around them as he settled between her legs, his body pressing against hers.

(Y/N) moans at Telemachus's quick pace, the water splashing around them.

Telemachus wrapped his arms around (Y/N), holding her close against his chest. He leaned in, his lips finding hers in a deep, passionate kiss.

The water cascaded over their bodies, the heat of the water and their desire mingling together. Telemachus's hands roved over her skin, exploring and caressing every curve and plane.

He ran his fingers down her back, then up her sides, his touch possessive and greedy. He wanted to feel every inch of her, taste every part of her.

Telemachus broke the kiss, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He nipped and sucked at her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. "I need you, love," he murmured against her ear. "I need you so badly."

"Feels...oh! Feels so good~" Egeria moans, scratching his back as the water continues to splash around them

Telemachus groaned as he felt her nails on his back, the pain only serving to heighten his arousal. He leaned in, sucking and biting at her neck, marking her skin with his love bites.

He lifted her hips, positioning her so that she was straddling him, her legs wrapped around his waist. His body was pressed against hers, their bodies slick with water and desire.

"Mine," he whispered in her ear, his voice gravelly. "You're all mine."

(Y/N) whines as Telemachus lifts her up and down on him, nearly going crossed eyed.

Telemachus's grip on her was strong, his hands holding her hips in place as he guided her movements. He watched her face closely, savoring every moan and gasp that escaped her lips.

"That's it, love," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Ride me like that."

He could feel the tension building within him, his body responding to every move she made. Telemachus leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep kiss,

Indeed, Telemachus couldn't help but notice the parallel between their current situation and the first time they had made love, in the secluded river in the forest. It was as though the intensity and passion between them had only grown since then.

"You...hah! Got bigger!~" (Y/N) praises, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Telemachus chuckled at her words, his ego inflating a bit. "I'm glad you think so, love," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

He leaned in, nipping at her earlobe. "But I have a suspicion that I'm not the only one who's grown since that first time," he whispered huskily. "You're much more... responsive now."

Telemachus noticed who she's redder than before, more sensitive, and more eager.

Telemachus chuckled, his eyes roaming over her flushed face and body. "Look at you, love," he said huskily. "You're so much more sensitive now. So much more eager."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "I wonder if it's me, or perhaps it's just because you're mine now," he murmured, his voice filled with possessive pride. "Either way, I love it."

Telemachus smirked at the thought, his fingers tracing circles on her hip. "You know, love," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "I have a theory."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "I think your body has... molded to me."

(Y/N) blushes, slapping his chest "Stop talking non- ah!!~" Egeria couldn't scold him as he drives himself deeper and faster inside her once more.

Telemachus chuckled at her half-hearted attempt to scold him, but he didn't let it stop him. He was too far gone now, driven by an primal need to claim her in every way possible.

He lifted her up, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "You were saying something, love?" he asked, his voice rough with desire. "Something about me... stopping?"

(Y/N) could barely keep it together as he slammed her down onto him, loosing it as she began to babble, crying in pleasure.

Telemachus couldn't get enough of her, he was almost feral in his need for her. The sound of her babble and her cry of pleasure only fueled his desire even more, driving him to move even harder and faster.

He gripped her even tighter, his fingers digging into her skin leaving marks. Telemachus knew that they would fade but the memory would last forever in his mind. His mouth found her neck as he bit and sucked hard. Wanting, no...needing to mark her as his.

(Y)N) could feel her body starting to tremble, her climax building rapidly. Her mind was lost, consumed by nothing but the pleasurable sensations that racked her body.

"Telemachus, please!" she pleading, her voice strained. "Please don't st-AH!~"

Telemachus felt her body trembling, her words growing more desperate. He knew she was close, and he was more than happy to push her over the edge.

"That's it, love," he whispered in her ear, his voice rough and ragged. "Let go. Let me take you there."

He moved faster, harder, his fingers gripping her hips with bruising force. Telemachus could feel his own climax building, but he was determined to make sure she reached hers first.

"You're mine," he said, his voice thick with possession and desire. "All mine."

With a few more powerful thrusts, Telemachus finally sent her over the edge, her body shattering in his arms as she cried out his name.

(Y/N) cried out, holding onto him tightly, his face buried on her breasts as she cried out into the heavens.

Telemachus held her tightly against him, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his own climax. He pressed his forehead against her chest, his eyes closed as he savored the feeling of her heartbeat against his skin.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer. The water sloshed around them, cooling their bodies, but Telemachus still felt the heat radiating off her skin.

"You're incredible, love," he murmured against her skin, his voice filled with affection and admiration. "Absolutely incredible."

"Love...love you~" (Y/N) could barely talk from the aftershock, before pulling him into a kiss.

Telemachus smiled against her lips, returning her kiss with equal fervor. He could still feel the aftershocks coursing through his body, his heart still pounding in his chest.

"I love you too, love," he murmured, his voice hushed and sincere. "More than anything."

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands and looked into her eyes, his expression tender and affectionate. "You're my everything, you know that, right?"

"You're my everything too, I'd die without you." (Y/N) professes with a look of affection.

Telemachus felt his heart swell at her words, the intensity of his feelings for her almost overwhelming him.

"You mean the world to me, love," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before nuzzling his face into her neck. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her skin, still slightly salty from the river and now mixed with the scent of the bath and the sweat from their lovemaking.

Telemachus could feel the exhaustion start to set in, the physical and emotional intensity of their lovemaking taking its toll on his body.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "I think we should get out of the bath and go to bed, love," he murmured gently. "You must be tired, and I don't want you to catch a chill."

"But I wanna keep you warm inside me" (Y/N) pouted childishly.

Telemachus laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement and affection.

"Oh love, you're irresistible," he said, leaning in to kiss her playfully on the nose. "As much as I'd love to stay inside you all night long, I think we'll both be more comfortable in bed."

He stood up, lifting her up in his arms, water streaming from their bodies. "I'll keep you warm, I promise."

"But I've never cockwarmed you before." (Y/N) whines, as Telemachus carries her to his bed, towels on hand.

Telemachus chuckled at her pouty face, his heart skipping a beat at her words.

"You've never what?" he asked, feigning ignorance as he set her down on the bed. He began to gently dry her off, using the towel to pat her hair dry and then moving down her body.

"Keep you inside me all night long, to keep your seed trapped." (Y/N) continues to pout as he began drying her legs.

Telemachus's body reacted involuntarily to her words, heat stirring within him once again. He could feel the embers of desire smoldering within him, but he forced himself to remain focused on the task at hand.

"Is that so?" he said, his voice low and rough. "And why do you want to keep me inside you all night, love?"

"Cause I'm leaking~" (Y/N) pouted, her hands between her legs, sure enough, his seed gushing out between her fingers.

Telemachus was already starting to get hard again, his body responding to her words and the visual of her fingers between her legs.

"Oh love," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You don't know what you're doing to me."

He quickly finished drying her off, his body trembling with restrained need. Telemachus placed the towel on the ground before moving on top of her, his body trapping her between him and the bed, before beginning to stroke himself in front of her.

He took her wrists and pinned her down on the bed, his face hovering close to hers. "Is this what you wanted, love?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/N) looks between them as he continues stroking himself, to see him hard and dripping.

She could only blush and bite her lip at the sight.

Telemachus noticed her reaction to him, his ego flaring up in pride.

"You like what you see, love?" he asked, his voice rough and gravelly. "You like what you do to me?"

Telemachus was already hard and ready as ge moved forward, positioning himself between her legs, his head poised at her entrance.

(Y/N) moans as he enters her, before laying on top of her, panting

"I...I don't think I can be cockwarmed, Love, you feel too good" Telemachus admits, struggling not to buck inside her.

(Y/N) blushes, holding onto him, kissing whatever her lips could reach.

Telemachus moans at her kisses, his hands roaming her body, desperate to touch as much of her as possible.

"You feel so good, Love, too good." he whispers, his voice ragged with need. "I can't get enough of you."

Telemachus couldn't resist, he had to move, the need too powerful.

"I'm sorry Love," he gasps, his body moving of its own accord. "I can't keep still."

(Y/N) moans, already overstimulated from their previous love making, but not protesting none the less, holding onto him tightly.

Telemachus was lost in the heat of passion, his need for her overwhelming his senses. He moved with wild abandon, his pace fast and relentless. He knew he should be gentler, but he couldn't help himself.

He pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, his other roaming over her body, his touch possessive and insistent.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice filled with an edge of possessiveness. "All mine."

(Y/N) could barely respond with how hard Telemachus is moving into her, but she does know they're both close, as she felt him twitch inside her.

Telemachus could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body trembling with the effort to hold back just a little longer.

But he was too far gone to slow down now, he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to.

He pressed his face against her neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I'm close, Love." he whispered.

(Y/N) moans as Telemachus roughly digs himself deep inside her, spilling his seed inside once more making her arch her back, her legs tightly wrapped around his waist as she came at the same time as Telemachus.

Telemachus's body shudders against hers as they both climax, his grip on her wrists tight, as if to hold on to her and never let her go.

He collapses on top of her, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding in his chest. "You're incredible, love," he managed to gasp out between breaths.

He releases his grip on her wrists and pulls her closer, her body flush against his. "I don't want to ever let you go."

(Y/N) lifts his face to meet hers, kissing him.

"I love you, so much" (Y/N) professes, kissing him deeply.

Telemachus returns the kiss fiercely, his arms wrapping around her body and pulling her even closer.

"I love you too, more than words can express," he says, his voice filled with emotion. "You're everything to me, my love."

He kisses her again, pouring all of his love and devotion into the kiss. His hands roam her body, touching and caressing every inch of her skin, as if he's trying to memorize her every curve and contour.

"I love you so much, no words could ever describe how thankful I am that you found me" (Y/N) smiled brightly, hugging him.

Telemachus smiled at her words, his heart swelling with emotion. He held her tightly, pressing his face into her hair.

"I'm the one who should be thankful," he said, his voice thick with love and affection. "You've given me everything I could ever want or need. You're my world, love."

He lifted her chin, making her look at him. His eyes were filled with a tenderness that spoke of his deep love for her.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm glad fate brought us together."

(Y/N) smiled at him, before kissing his lips, as they cuddled up in each other's arms, enjoying the comfortable silence they both share.

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In the depths of the sea, lies a golden palace for a certain God, cradling his injuries, golden ichor pours out on every wound, as they slowly close up, amidst his injuries, he noticed a shift in his oceans, in Ithaca...a wave so strong they made sure didn't let go of who they wanted to subdue...or her.

A grin appeared on the God's lips.

"So she's been there this whole time."

(A/N: Not letting Ody rest 2025)

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

wow this is another difficult one to go through. okay. okay.

it's been 57 years since we saw agatha kill her mother and the salemites - agatha should now be around 74, 75. how many of those years has she spent with rio? even if they met right away, that is a comparatively short time considering their long lives (rio's especially) and the almost 300 years they stayed separated afterwards.

the first thing we notice about the scene: just how damn green it is.

the forest and the river - rio, nature, is everywhere.

we're not told why agatha is running, but the obvious answer is that she is running from rio. she's in her shift, she was probably in their bed in the little cabin in the woods going through labor. and then rio told her that nicky was going to be stillborn and, in typical agatha fashion, she bolted, she tried to buy time, to bargain, to outrun the inevitable. but nature is all around, engulfing her. trying to escape is futile.

I so appreciate how bloody this scene is but I can't watch it, it's too much. she's run as far as she could, but the baby is coming now. she bites on a lemon and pushes. no family, no coven, no midwife. the one person in her corner, rio, has betrayed her.

that shot of rio so small between the trees, and yet the same exact color as the leaves? both one tiny person and the very essence of nature everywhere? I've got chills.

rio has brought her orchid so you know how serious the situation is. and I believe the costume department called this a shepherdess outfit? she chose this gentle look to guide nicky's little innocent soul to the other side.

you need to look at plaza's acting closely in this scene because while agatha's pain is on full display, raw and open, rio is keeping her pain close to her chest, she has no other choice. she swallows, she shakes her head ever so slightly. agatha is shaking her head too, completely and utterly devastated.

Rio walks closer, strong determined steps that don't match how difficult she's finding it to speak. her face contracts with pain before she smooths it back in a neutral expression. she shrugs a little, so small and apologetic. remember how formidable she was with alice, how clear she made it look that there was no escape? she can't quite bring herself to do that here.

you know by now what it means when agatha clutches her chest like that. you've seen her poor heart.

she licks her lips, she straighten up, vicious, ready to go into battle, ready to bite and hurt and beg and do everything, everything in her power to save nicky. we get this scene at the very end, when we know agatha and rio and their dynamic so intimately, and it's so easy to read what's happening. agatha will never go down with dignity, she'll fight till her last breath.

rio gives the tiniest of nods, she takes a deep breath. she knows agatha so well, she didn't expect anything less. while agatha is all over the place, rio is so still. her eyes are huge, and there's one stubborn tear that she's not allowing to fall. this has always been their dynamic - agatha's pain is too overwhelming, it engulfs all, there's no containing it. rio has to be strong and wise for the two of them.

this is rio losing her wife and child in one tragic swoop. this is rio being cast as the villain that took nicky's life.

this is futile. we can't fight Death.

oh, but she will try. she's been trying since we've known her. since she killed that poor dog to see if wanda could do something about it.

Death makes her decision.

not only does the grim reaper refuses to reap a soul. for the first time in all of history, she actively uses her magic to stop someone from dying. it goes against everything she stands for, and it's ultimately useless, because not even the power of the greatest Green Witch can heal nicky, she can only delay the inevitable. but she does it anyway, because she loves agatha too much. even if she knows perfectly well that she's just lost her forever.

rio is apparently impassible, but look closer: her nostrils are flaring, her jaw is trembling. if rio can't kill, by logic she can't generate life either. not that she's not able to - she's not allowed to, because she needs to be impartial. because if she lets herself fall in love with someone, it might just happen that their child will be stillborn in 18th century nowhere, massachusetts and Death might not be able to be selfless and impartial about it.

and then bye bye, sacred balance.

who the fuck came up with this story? and made it about lesbians, too? was it you, jac? I don't know if I want to kiss you or scream at you.

agatha doesn't recognize the world-shattering decision, the unprecedented sacrifice rio has just made for her. she can only think about nicky. how much time has she won? a day? a month? ten years? not knowing is torture.

and look, this is agatha, selfish to her very core. but can you blame her? can you feel anything but infinite pity and understanding for her at this moment? who is even to blame here? agatha, a mother begging for her child's life? rio going against every law and everything she believes in to give her beloveds one fleeting moment of reprieve?

there is no one to blame, not even nature - it has no concept of tragedy. (now that I think about it, agatha is the only person in history who could ever made nature feel.)

you did it, agatha, you made Death go away. you made your choice. it's you and nicky now.

oh god, kathryn, don't make that face. it's too much.

I spoke no spell, I said no incantation, you were made from scratch. the utter beauty that is agatha, the witch killer, the master of spells and craft, creating a baby (almost) the old fashioned way - the magic of life that no spell could ever improve.

this is agatha claiming nicky as hers. not rio's, only hers. she sought to have him for arguably selfish but deeply human reasons: because she needed to prove her mother wrong. because she wanted someone who would love her unquestioningly, unconditionally. because she was so, so lonely, and rio alone couldn't fill the chasm in her heart. she wanted her coven to grow from two to three, but looks like it's coven two again: her whole happiness is once again tied to only one person.

the little feetsies!

this shot, dear lord. green leaves and water taking over.

this entry was a lot. I need a hug.

go to episode 9 part 2

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 3

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Epilogue

Stopping in the hallway, he glanced out a small port window to look at the stars rushing by.

Allowing himself a small sigh in the emptiness of the long hallway.

It had been a long few months, sabotages from plants here from the higher ups, the occasional metaflux incident causing wanderers to show, but worst of all was being away from her.

Caleb looks at his right hand, made stronger by improvements after all that damage in the explosion over a year ago now.

He could take it as a reminder of everything that had been done to him.

The experiments, being treated like a weapon, desperately trying to be cold and calculating all to take attention from the one person he wanted to keep safe.

To him though, it was his reminder of you. What he had sacrificed to keep you safe.

Maybe he should’ve just asked her to stay in his house the whole time he was away.

No, he shook his head a bit, that’s what had gotten him into trouble with her in the first place.

Caleb knew that he should just talk to her about everything.

But it helped his sanity to keep it all to himself, so she wouldn’t be burdened by all this knowledge.

He toed a dangerous line by keeping you so close.

Not that refusing to talk about his relationship with her really helped anything.

It kept him from having to be vulnerable to her though.

He was supposed to be your protector, the feeling that she would leave if she saw how weak he really was when it came to her.

It left him frozen inside, the fear and anxiety too much to bear.

Caleb made himself a promise though. He had left things on a terrible note.

The first thing he would do is apologize after seeing you again. Well after a kiss or two, maybe three.

Then finally sit down to talk.

The ship shook violently out of the blue.

Warning lights and alarms started sounding through the halls.

Caleb rushed to the command center.

“Report!”

“Sir, a wanderer has spawned in the engine room. Our anti gravity thrusters on one side have been knocked out. We’re slowly being pulled to a nearby black hole. The other thrusters are still working, which is keeping us from being pulled in completely but the wanderer is on the move.”

“Send the metaflux incident team to the engine room now, Tell them that I will meet them there.”

“Yes sir.”

Turning on his heel, his coat billowing behind him, he speeds his way to the engine room.

Opening the door, he’s met with a chitinous wanderer snarling at the assembled team.

All of them armed with firearms and specially picked for their evol abilities.

The room is trashed already, if he wasn’t fast, it could destroy life support systems and then they’d really be in trouble.

That is if the black hole looming outside didn’t crush them first.

The wanderer lunged at the team of 6 people with its front legs outstretched.

It manages to swipe one of the men’s forearms before it’s pushed back a bit by a slew of bullets.

Caleb had had enough, using his evol, he stops the wanderer in its tracks.

Doing this took more energy but he saunters over and shoots it straight into the core 2 times.

Letting it go, it slumps to the floor, spent.

Some blood splattering on him but he pays no mind as he casually wipes it off with his handkerchief.

“Salvage it.” He orders, not giving the flabbergasted team a chance to respond.

Caleb quickly left and called the engine crew to come and try to repair the thrusters.

But nothing came through.

“Report!”

Nothing.

Sensing something was gravely wrong, he storms into the command center.

A flurry of activity is happening as no one can contact anyone on the ship over coms.

“What’s the situation?”

“Colonel!”

Someone rushes over, breathing hard.

“In the chaos of you being gone, someone has sabotaged our communications relay for long range and ship wide. All of our escape pods have been ejected with the manual override in the shuttle bay and then escaped in the explorer shuttle!”

Damn it.

He brings his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he asks

“What’s our status on getting communications back up?”

“That’s the other thing sir, all of the containers of spare parts have been ejected.”

He smiles slowly to himself.

“So this was planned well in advance. They took advantage of the happenstance of me taking care of the wanderer.”

Usually he left the containment of those incidents to the metaflux team but the severity of it happening in the engine room led him to intervene.

They were truly fucked. These types of incidents needed to be reported, then help could be sent but with the communications relay out.

Unless they could magically find a way to fix the thrusters without new parts, they were going to be slowly pulled into the black hole.

Slowly crushed as all the oxygen left the environment, a slow and painful death.

Unless.

Well, they didn’t account for Caleb being a crazy bastard.

This wouldn’t be like that time at the academy when he just thought it might be ok to die after his test flight malfunctioned and sent him to deepspace.

He had to get home to you.

His evol was gravity based after all.

A black hole is a gravity well and all Caleb needed to do was create his own gravity well opposite of the black hole.

Using the remaining thrusters they had, he could slowly pull them away from the counter gravity’s influence. It would be achingly slow, grueling and exhausting.

Caleb didn’t know if the food stores would hold out or if any other systems would slowly turn off due to the existing damage.

He didn’t even know if he would last long enough to pull them out.

But he would do it to get home to her.

HER:

The camera turns on

You come into view of the camera holding a piece of photo paper.

“Hi baby! Oh I guess you should be saying that not me, haha. Anyways look!”

You hold up the small piece of photo paper, black and white with a small white blob in the middle.

“That’s our baby! Isn’t it cute? Well it looks more like a jellybean then a baby at this point but I still find it cute!”

You hold up your fingers to indicate the size, the size of a lentil.

“It’s really tiny right now, I’m only 6 weeks. I asked for a photo copy of this because I wanted something tangible. Especially for you, so that way you can keep it when you come home.”

Your head drops a bit, absentmindedly rubbing your firm stomach.

“I really miss you, it’s really hard doing this alone. I’m sick a lot right now and I lost a bit of weight before I realized what was going on.

Don’t worry though! Zayne helped me and I’m seeing an OB now. So I’m eating again.”

You point your finger towards the camera

“That does not mean that I need to be in bed rest when you get home. You hear me? This is normal for pregnancy. Well not the weight loss but the being sick.”

Sighing deeply

“I miss you so much, but I know you’ll be home in 3 months and a week. I’ve got this little bean to keep me company in the meantime. I’ll see you later Caleb.”

The camera turns off.

4 weeks pass, writing little messages to Caleb all the while.

The smell of meat cooking is horrible to me now, what am I going to do?! I want your braised chicken and pork when you come home!

My pants are getting a bit tight. I haven’t told my work that I’m pregnant yet. I’m waiting till I’m 12 weeks but my uniform pants just suck right now!

Maybe I could use a hair band?

Well my boobs are a little bigger now, you’d be happy about that. They’re super sore though so don’t even think about manhandling me!

I’m so tired all the time! It’s hard to go out and do work now. And don’t even start on my working! Pregnant women work all the time safely. Granted my work is pretty dangerous sometimes.

I just know if I tell them, they’ll put me on desk work.

I can’t do that right now, being busy keeps me sane while you’re gone.

I went to your house this weekend to grab some of your clothes. They fit so much nicer and they smell like you too.

I can just see your chest puffing out in male pride.

Yeah yeah, yuck it up.

I really wish you were here. I want to talk to you, cuddle up to you in bed and just be together.

I’m sorry we fought right before you left.

I’m sorry.

The camera turns on

“Caleb! The baby looks like a baby now! They did my ten week scan and it’s got little arms and legs now!

Oh don’t worry, I have the picture right here and a recording of the heartbeat. Ugh, sorry, my hormones just make me cry even when I’m happy.”

You wipe your eyes and display the newest ultrasound to the camera like the proud mama bear you were becoming.

A tiny white blob with little arms and legs.

“I think I can play the heartbeat off of my watch, hold on… there!”

The sound of a fast little heartbeat comes out and you start tearing up again.

“Caleb… Caleb, I wish you were here to do all of this with me.”

You sniff and dry your tears furiously, looking at the camera with a glare now.

“You better come home to me.”

The camera turns off.

3 months have passed since he left, your pregnancy is 15 weeks along now. You had been correct when you said that you’d be placed on desk duty as soon as you made your pregnancy known at work.

Xavier had goggled at you in disbelief, but Tara and everyone else were very happy for you. They wanted to ask you about the father, you could tell but they just gave you inquiring looks every now and again.

It was reaching lunch time as you finished reviewing a report someone had submitted recently.

You had been turned into the captain’s assistant somehow.

Stretching up, you noticed some unfamiliar colored uniforms out of the corner of your eyes.

Wait a minute, those are fleet uniforms! What are they doing here?

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach.

You watched with bated breath as they caught someone, asking a question before your coworker pointed straight at you.

Oh no. Please.

Two officers walked over to your desk and asked for your name, you confirmed and they handed over a small box.

“As Colonel Caleb’s emergency contact and beneficiary, I regret to inform you that he has been reported as missing in action.”

You sit in stunned silence. They continue on.

“We can’t give too many details but a survivor of the disaster made it back a few days ago on board an escape shuttle, reporting the loss of the colonel and the rest of the crew.”

A strangled sob makes it out of your throat, you look down at the small box in your hands.

“These are the documents left behind for you, granting you access to his estate and trust. The house and everything else he owned is yours.”

You didn’t want this, you wanted Caleb.

Caleb was gone.

You slipped out of your chair, it rolling behind you as you lost all strength in your knees. Sobs coming out of you in frantic gasps.

The officers look uncomfortable as they left you with one last bit of information.

“There will be results of an investigation delivered to you at a later time, the colonels lawyers card is in the box. Good day.”

They left you there on the floor.

World shattered and a baby in your womb from a man you’d never see again.

Tags: @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier @rosalyne08 @his-ocean-emissary

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Heyyy!!! Hope this ask finds you well! I’m looking for all the Alpha Stiles fics! Long and smutty, if they exist! Please and thank you so much!!

Sure.

Wild Heart by giidas (KatushkaK)

(1/1 I 2,301 I Mature)

“And no, I did not get us a room,” Derek adds, just to be sure.“Let me get us one, then. Any preferences?”Derek lifts his eyebrows and gives Stiles his best are-you-being-serious-right-now look.Stiles honest to god laughs out loud, startling Derek by clapping him on the shoulder and saying: “Oh, I like you already, so much sass!” and then goes off to procure a key to a room.

My Alpha, My Pack, My Family. by Ladyofthe_Alpha

(7/? I 12,303 I Explicit)

Derek finds himself is a position where every Alpha wants him. Will this mysterious powerful Alpha help him find his place in his pack? Or will he be another Alpha looking to get an in with the powerful Hale Pack?

You're All I've Ever Needed by siriuslyuptonogood

(6/? I 14,047 I Explicit)

Stiles Stilinski has never needed Derek Hale, but Derek Hale has always needed Stiles Stilinksi.

"I don't need you, Derek" sent Derek away from Beacon Hills, back to New York, and he would like to think he's never looked back. He hasn't gone back, at least. Maybe he never will. He's happy in the city, has tons of hot, kinky sex with hotter-than-the-sun alphas, is completely satisfied. He doesn't need a pack. When one alpha breaks it off, there's another to replace him. It's New York. There are 8.5 million people. He's not worried. He's not lonely. No, not him.

Except, he's thirty-three, and it's been seven years since he left Beacon Hills, seven years since he's had someone in his life longer than three or four months at a time. He isn't sure what he needs anymore, but he has a feeling it definitely isn't this.

When the Tables are Turned by BeniMaiko

(5/5 I 16,690 I Explicit)

Derek has to deal with a newly bitten Stiles.

You Gotta Roll with the Punches by quicksylver28

(12/12 I 34,787 I Teen)

Stiles Always thought that he was pretty well adjusted for a kid.When his best friend Scott had an asthma attack when he was six, Stiles said 'ok' and held his hand through it. When his mother dies when he was nine, and his Father's soul mark crumbled off his skin like ash, he said 'ok' and picked up the broken pieces of their lives. When his soul mark blossomed on the skin just above his heart and he realizes that his true loves first words would be "FUCK OFF", he said 'ok' and braced himself for having his heart kicked in the ass.

We're The Wild Ones, Raised By Wolves. by halelujah

(12/? I 54,290 I Mature)

"Your uncle not only killed people, he bit Scott unlawfully and without his consent, he also put a big, red target on our backs." Stiles continues calmly, folding her arms across her chest. She can't help but glare. "An action that I'm now going to reap the repercussions for."

"He wasn't yours to kill!" Derek rumbles, icy blue flashing in his eyes. "He murdered Laura!"

She sees the decision in Derek's eyes before it even turns in his mind that he should attack. As she watches Derek's muscles twitch and tense, she lets out a sharp bark, one that tells Scott to stay out of it, before she meets Derek head on, eyes burning crimson.

[Or the fic where Stiles has always been a werewolf, an Alpha and female.]

Who Are You Really? by mercury_caduceus

(11/11 i 63,021 I Mature)

After hiding his werewolf and Alpha status since his mother died, Stiles runs into Derek and they work together to find the Alpha killing people in Beacon Hills. [Set in Season 1. Alpha!Stiles, Beta!Derek.] I will be continuing this slowly.

White Rabbit by BlueEyedBetaMeow

(13/? I 84,272 I Teen)

When Stiles begins to piece together that his friends are avoiding him, and why, he begins to wonder why they ever saved him from the Nogitsune to begin with. When a terrible turn of events takes place in the Preserve, and the only thing that can save him is the bite, will the pack forget the misgivings between them, or will he be left to suffer?

Underneath by groffiction

(43/? I 190,576 I Explicit)

AU, where Stiles gets bitten by a Cyger – a type of rare Weretiger around the same time Scott gets bitten by Peter. Confused and more than a bit freaked out, they both are naturally suspicious when Derek shows up out of the blue. Still, there is something about the moody, aloof werewolf that both intrigues and draws Stiles to Derek like a moth to a flame. But, everyone knows that if you get close enough to touch flames, you get burned. However, with the promise of love, is that burning sacrifice worth it? And how does a Weretiger and a Werewolf even work as mates? Very loose canon through season 1 and season 2 of Teen Wolf. Might have some things from Season 3, depending on where the story leads.