#wc tess

[mousetoe-wc]

New Squirrelwhisker family tree!!

Ok so now what I’ve changed is that Sandstorm + Featherkit and Cricketkit are now the kits of Runningbreeze (Runningwind) and a Rouge/Bloodclan cat Tess (she’s a character in Ravenpaw’s Path), they were both young at the time, it was a very non serious relationship and ended when she got pregnant. Tess asked Runningbreeze to take them back to his clan as Tess didn’t have the means to take care of them, nor did she want kits, and Runningbreeze had a community of cats to raise them, he agreed and before they were born he asked Dapplecloud (Dappletail) to take them.

More Character backstory below

Dapplecloud had wanted kits for a very long time, she was mates with Stormtail for a time when she was a younger warrior but she couldn’t have kits, which was definitely hard on her. At some point she’d broken up with Stormtail realising their relationship was not healthy and tried to focus on spending more time on her family, she absolutely loved her niece and nephew, she and her brother were very close with Mouseburr and Runningbreeze, they were Auntie Dapplecloud and Uncle Thrushpelt and great warriors the two of them looked up to.

So when Runningbreeze came to her asking for her help, Dapplecloud agreed, no warrior would turn down kits in need, especially family. Sometime in the future a part of Dapplecloud would regret this decision.

In the first two months every thing was fine, the kits were little angels, Rodinwing’s litter was taking a liking to the three new little kits and Willowpelt was settling into the nursery. Rosetail, the caretaker of the nursery was going to have her paws full.

But as the months of winter went on, the prey became increasingly more scarce then others, so many cats died that winter. Her brother, Leopardfoot, two of Robinwing’s kits along with her mate and herself… and so many more….

Cricketkit and then Featherkit included… Cricketkit early on and Featherkit so close to being apprenticed, he was born deaf but that never stopped him, he and his family had developed their own language built on clan cats own limited sign language used in patrols and other clan activities. Featherkit was a determined and kind kit. But the harsh winter does not care about the lives of mortals.

The loss affected her deeply… But Sandkit and the rest of the clan continued on.

One of the things that brings Sandstorm and Fireheart together is Cloudkit, in my rewrite Cloudtail and Snowkit are the same character. When Fireheart brings Cloudkit and asks Bluestar to let him stay in the clan, amongst the many voices saying not to let another “weak” kittypet in, Sandstorm surprises Fireheart by advocating for Cloudkit (the little white kit reminds her of her brother) and when Cloudkit is discovered to be hard of hearing Sandstorm and Dapplecloud help Fireheart and Brindleface with different signs and signals.

Cloudtail goes on to help Brightheart when she becomes hard of hearing after the dog attack and their daughter Whitewing, while not hard of hearing is a fantastic sign language teacher and goes on to teach many young cats in Thunderclan and even some cats in other clans the more developed sign language.

Other family tree’s that relate to this one:

SandFire // Mumblefoot

[shallowbreeze]

Tess

Tess is a blue-gray cat with a white chest, stomach, and tail-tip. They have a white raindrop-shaped marking on their forehead, and light green eyes.

[artaintfartwarriors]

can you do tess from bloodclan?

[eggfeather]

tess

[limerlove]

❝ TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU ❞

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

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

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

wc. 21k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two Years Earlier…

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

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

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

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

“Abigail Anderson.” 

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

“You love her.” 

“I don’t—” 

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

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

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

“Nope. We’re crystal clear.” 

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

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

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

You miss it. 

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

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

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

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

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

But none of this seemed to be that simple. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course, Tess can’t sleep either. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tess!” 

“What? I’m old, not deaf.” 

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

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

“He’s not that bad.” 

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

“S’not what it is—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She makes me happy, Tess.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even right now?”

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

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

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

— 

Two Years Later…

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

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

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

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

You question why she needs him at all. 

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

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

As long as you asked, she will always come. 

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

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

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

“Baby, come back to me.” 

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

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

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

“I am…looking.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just promise me.” 

“Promise you what?” 

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

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

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

— 

Two week later…

Thursday. September 2024. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet, you say nothing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even us?”

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

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

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

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

Hope.

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

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

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

Abby couldn’t afford to let that happen. 

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

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

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

—

Friday. September 2024.

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe break her fingers.

She has an endless list.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like you were so used to doing this with her.

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

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

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

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

“But what about to you?”

“Then let him.”

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

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

“Do you want to dance?”

Is he fucking serious?

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

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Abs—”

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

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

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

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

“Why are you suddenly being such a bitch?”

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

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

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

“Oh fuck off, this is your fault!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why can’t you just—”

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

That was your final nail in the coffin.

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

“You know it’s not that easy”

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

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

“Abby that’s not—”

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

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

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

“M’sorry—”

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

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

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

“Abby—”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be grateful m’not kicking you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Are you hearing her correctly?

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

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

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

“Understand what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she likes this. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re killing me, angel.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Abby, please”

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

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

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

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

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

“Abs? What—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Abby whimpers. 

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

You’ll make sure of it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe later if Anderson is feeling kind. 

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

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

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

Without warning, she slaps your cunt, hard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you decide to cave in. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, she decides to level the playing field. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then it’s there. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you don’t know any of it. 

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

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

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

She whimpers, again. 

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

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

Again. Again. Again. 

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

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

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

He could never give her what she deserves. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you with all my heart.” 

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

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

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

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

Leaving you both there, giggling.

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

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

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

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

[lucidfairies]

disgusting [e.w]

pairing: preacher's daughter!ellie x old friend!reader

synopsis: when darkness overtakes the righteous, light will come bursting in (Psalm 112:4)

maybe, just maybe, she could get in and break you down. make you reconsider all of the things you swear you love. things that protect you.

they couldn't protect you from her.

warnings: not proof read!, reader is a minor in the beginning (flashback), reader is femme but nothing else is really disclosed, probably short, plot is weak but there, corruption, angst, religion mentioned several times, smoking, stalking, perverted behavior, mass shooting mentioned, sarah is back then dies again, underage drinking, recording without consent (not sex), unrealistic virgin experience, top Ellie, cunniligus, fingering, ass play, double penetration, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, humiliation, pillow humping, crying, smut based on this

wc: 7.8k

a/n: wow this was absolutely insane to write. this was mostly based off of this blurb, I wrote to the author for permission to base this fic off of it but I never heard back so I figured I would leave them credit here :) joel is a bit of a dick in the beginning and tess effing sucks!

the sun poured into your windows as you awoke to the loud sounds of trucks outside your window. it was the first Saturday in September, and the air was beginning to chill. you had no interest in being awoken this early on the weekend, deciding that pulling your second pillow across your face to drown out the noise was the best course of action.

unfortunately for you, the noises didn't halt, in fact, they got louder, as the backs of the trucks slid up and men began transporting boxes into the house next door. you knew people were moving in, but you didn't know it would be today of all days.

stubbornly, you sat up, pushing your hair away from your face and stretching, before standing and peaking out of your window. there were four men coming in and out of the house, as well as three women. on the second floor, you were too far to make much of their faces, but one of them was older, presumably the mother of the other two.

reluctantly, you decided to bake them a pie as a welcoming. your mother loved meeting new people and being as peppy as possible so that they would like her. she was desperate for people to like her - sometimes you were too. and right now, you wanted this family to like you, even if they woke you up at the crack of dawn.

the pie took all day, in and out of the kitchen. by 3pm, the trucks had all dispersed, and the family had moved in. if your mother wasn't away, she would be knocking at their door already. but you knew what it was like to move houses, and you knew that nobody would want anyone at their doorstep during their first day in the home. you decided to go tomorrow.

when the next day arrived, chilly and cloudy, you were ready. you were wearing a pink sweater dress, it dusted the tops of your thighs that were covered by tights. you had white, knee high socks gracing your legs under knee high boots, and they pulled the outfit together. with your pie and sweet smile, you ventured down the sidewalk to the house next door.

the woman who opened the door was the same woman you had noticed yesterday. she was tall, long brown hair that flowed over her shoulders in a gorgeous manner, and she wasn't as old as you had thought upon looking at her yesterday. frankly, she was gorgeous. you wondered if her daughters looked like her, if so, they're lucky.

“hi, can I help you?” she asked. she was breathing harshly, you wondered if it was from moving boxes or something other.

you introduced yourself, offering up your pie. she invited you in, and you noticed that the majority of the first floor was already set up, minus a few boxes here and there. you wondered if it took them all night. she called in the rest of the family to their living room, and you sat the pie on the table in the middle.

as the rest of the family filed in, your eyes locked on the girl in the middle. she was significantly shorter than the first woman you met, tess, and she looked nothing like her - neither of the girls did. she was pale and freckled, and her hair was short. she had it pulled back in a small bun on the back of her head, and she was in a white wifepleaser and jeans.

“it's nice to meet you guys,” you smiled, reaching out your hand and shaking all of theirs. in order, it was joel, ellie, and sarah. ellie. what a pretty name, you thought. her eyes practically burned your skin as she looked you over, taking in every inch of your person.

you quickly found out that ellie was merely one year your senior, and you couldn't get the fact out of your head. she wasn't too old, you told yourself. sarah, her sister, was a year younger than you. but ellie. beautiful, eighteen year old ellie, was looking at you like you were everything, and you were looking back.

an hour later, you were saying your goodbyes and traveling back down the street to your house. you almost spun; the introduction went stunningly. there was no way that the williams didn't like you, which meant that they would inevitably like your family as well. your mother would be elated.

you learned late the week day that ellie loved to smoke. every time you glanced out of your window, she was there, tapping her cig out the window. you couldn't comprehend how someone could spend so much time staring out the window with nothing but a cigarette - or a joint, whichever it actually was. you weren't close enough to see.

you said a prayer for her that night.

it stormed that next saturday, one week after the williams had moved in. it reminded you of ellie. as you walked in to your room, ready to go to bed, you were stuck in your spot as you glanced out the window to ellie's room. the scene was nothing you had seen before. there was ellie, standing in the middle of her room, yelling at joel. she looked angry, and equally sad. they both looked sad.

you couldn't hear what they were saying, but you knew it was bad. ellie grabbed a backpack and began stuffing clothes from her messy floor into it, still yelling at joel. her cheeks were red from frustration and stained from tears. joel was crying. something bad had happened, you could feel it.

ellie said something small before throwing the backpack over her back and storming out of the house. moments later, she was storming out of the front door, into the storm. and she stopped. she glanced up, met your eyes, and stopped. you looked at her as she looked at you; longing. longing something far from reach.

and then she turned, got in her car, and drove away.

you, now two years older and attending university, didn't often think of that day. ellie though - she never stopped thinking about it. she had returned home a handful of times since that rainy night, and by some miracle, you were there every time she was.

nothing about you had changed since that night. you still had your big doe eyes and you were still just as curious as you were that night. every time ellie came home (frequently for the first year, but she hadn't been back), you would peer out of your bedroom window and watch her gather things from her room.

ellie knew that you had asked about her. several times, for the first year, actually. she knew that you wanted to see her. meet her again. maybe even smoke with her. ellie had conjured many an idea as to what would happen if she was there.

so, knowing this, you simply couldn't blame ellie for her aggressive means of knowing your whereabouts. you couldn't blame her for following you home or watching you from below your bedroom window as you changed. you're the one who wanted to see her, even if it was a long time ago.

ellie swore that one day she would approach you. she was desperate to. she thought about you no matter what she did. when she was in the shower, when she was working, when she was getting off. the last one embarrassed her. she hardly knew you, while also knowing everything about you.

she knew your favorite color and your favorite skirt. she knew what kind of books you liked and that you loved to bake. she also knew that on most of your underwear, there were flowers and bows. she knew what you slept in most often. and most of all, most disturbingly, most disgusting, she knew every way to make you cum.

she watched you frantically rubbing your nipples as your hips ground down against your pillow, and she watched as your face contorted in anger every time you didn't finish. and she watched you get on your knees and pray for forgiveness from a god who wasn't listening - because the next night, you did it all again.

ellie dreamt about every way she could make you cum. if she could get her hands on you for one night, she could have you coming over and over. you just needed her, she was sure of it. she had never seen your pussy, not from the ground with you all the way up on the second floor, but she dreamt about what it would look like to watch her strap bottom out inside you.

she craved it.

she knew your schedule so well that she could tattoo it. you left early in the morning for class, came back, did homework, slept, and then went out again. she knew what days you did your laundry and what days you went grocery shopping, she even knew what you got every week, but she was too scared to ever attempt to cross paths with you –

until now, when you decided to change your schedule.

there was ellie, looming in the dairy aisle, gazing at the milk options. she had a favorite brand, but it appeared to be all out, so she was considering her choices. as she opened the door, she heard her name and came to a screeching stop. nobody says her name like that. not since the last time she talked to you two years ago.

she turned towards you, face as pale as a ghost. her ears were ringing, her blood was rushing, and she was sure she was going to faint.

“ellie, is that you?” you grinned. you knew all too well that it was her, but you figured you would ask anyway. she looked like she was going to be sick. maybe she was trying to avoid seeing anyone from the neighborhood; word had spread that she was kicked out. “oh ellie, it's been so long! I've been worried about you.”

she couldn't stop staring, not even when you pulled her it on your embrace. “hey,” she said slowly, “it's been a while.” she smiled awkwardly, attempting to mask all of the feelings that just welled inside her. “how've you been?”

“I've been good, getting by. I'm in school now. you haven't been by for a while. how's it been?” your eyes were genuine, and she immediately felt all of the blood rush back to her face as she blushed hard.

“it's been alright,” there was a pause and you pursed your lips, unsure what to say. “if you want you could come over and I could explain everything that happened. I know you saw it all that night.” you smiled widely.

“it was probably a bad night for you. but if you're up for it, it would quiet my curious mind.” you giggled. ellie must have blacked out. this couldn't be real. “here, give me your number.” and like that, your phone was in her hands. she typed in her number and quickly handed it back to you. “I have to head out, but I'll text you.”

“great.” ellie left the store without her milk that day. she had to go back, but wound up not buying it again when she replayed what had happened the previous day in her head.

you were coming to her apartment. soon. tomorrow. you had texted her about it, several times. you didn't stop texting her. she was so, totally, fucked.

when you woke up the next morning, you were excited. you had craved answers to what happened that night since it happened, and here you were, about to get them. ellie's apartment was in an area that your parents would've called rough. as you walked up to the entrance, the gate creaked and the bell had to be pressed harshly to get it to actually ring up to her apartment. she buzzed you in, and you began up the stairs to the third floor.

ellie was staring far too hard. she could see your legs. it was killing her. she wasn't ready for this, she wasn't ready to sit next to you and have a conversation with you and have you talk back to her. she simply could not.

how was she supposed to look you in the eyes and be honest with you after using your phone number to find all of your social media? how was she supposed to pretend like she didn't get off to the pretty pictures of you on your Instagram at the beach? how was she supposed to pretend like she wasn't attracted to the religion that you had plastered all over your page? maybe, just maybe, she could get in and break you down. make you reconsider all of the things you swear you love. things that protect you.

they couldn't protect you from her.

“well, I brought you some cookies,” you opened your purse and pulled out a small, round tray of chocolate chip cookies. ellie was practically foaming at the mouth already. she reached for the tray and sat it down in the kitchen, and as she walked towards it you noticed the subtle changes in her since the last time you two had shared space.

she was paler now, if that was possible, and boney. she hadn’t been eating much (spending money on weed was a lot more fun than groceries), and it made her cheekbones stick out. her hipbones, which peaked out in an undeniably slutty way from her low waisted pants and cropped shirt was more evidence towards her lack of food consumption, and you worried for her. maybe she would let you come around more, cook her some meals, maybe help her heal. maybe fix her.

that was a nagging thought in the back of your head, and it persisted, loudly, as soon as you met her again. maybe you could fix her. it’s what god called you to do, anyway. fix the broken. fix ellie.

her hand wrapped around the thin wall as she poked her head out. “want a beer? I have corona, coors, heineken-” you cut her off, or assumed you did, because she appeared as if she would continue listing brands.

“I’m good, thanks. I don’t drink.” instinctively, your hand flew to the cross around your neck, and her eyes followed it. she breathed out a small “ah”, before grabbing herself a beer and closing the fridge.

from what you could see from your statue-like spot in her living room that barely had any view into the kitchen, she had tattoos. one tattoo, specifically. it wrapped itself down and around her forearm with different types of leaves, beginning with a large, detailed moth. however, from the cleanliness of the root of it, it appeared that she just got work done. an addition had been added, coming down the top of her hand and stopping just below her fingernails on her middle and ring fingers.

it was a lovely tattoo. and it drew your attention more than it should’ve. you berated yourself; no sane person spent this long staring at and thinking about a woman’s fingers. well, maybe gay women, but you weren’t gay. you simply enjoyed the way it curved around her arm and fingers. “it just finished healing,” your head snapped up and she appeared in front of you, leaning against the table. “I got it done a couple months ago, the bottom part. I got the other part done a couple years back, high, in my friend’s basement.”

you were eternally embarrassed. god knows how long she had been standing there, watching you watch her. “that’s really… cool,” you said awkwardly. “I could never get a tattoo high. or do anything high, for that matter.” ellie hummed, cracking open the beer and flopping down on the couch. with a gesture, she offered you the other half of the couch, and you obliged, sitting your purse on the floor next to you and crossing your ankles.

somehow, you felt equally comfortable in her home as you did out of place. the brightness and niceness of you seemed as if it would disrupt ellie’s dark energy and darkness of her home, but instead you felt welcomed. you felt as if the darkness blended with your light, and it was almost nice. It would’ve been lovely if you could’ve ignored the overarching, lingering smell of weed.

“i’m sure you want to get to the point and then leave,” ellie joked, taking a small sip of her drink. but that wasn’t true - you were in the mood to stay for hours. “a lot happened that night. but a lot led up to it, too. you see, i grew up in a house like yours. joel was a preacher for a while. tess, well, tess didn’t work. not since they met, which was only a couple years ago.”

as ellie took another sip of her beer, you put some pieces together. it made sense now why ellie and sarah looked nothing like her, and why ellie never seemed to be comfortable around her.

“so, knowing that information, when I came out to my dad and tess, neither of them were really cool about it. especially tess,” your brain lagged for a moment as you processed what she was saying. obviously she was gay. that made so much more sense than trying to piece together why a woman who was trying to attract men would dress the way she dresses, with hair and tattoos like hers.

“that’s what started the discomfort in our house, but that was before you, and before the new house,” she sighed, taking another sip of her drink. you were sure that the ‘new house’ meant more than what she was letting on. “a couple days after we moved in and two nights before you saw what you did, sarah was killed in a shooting.” your mouth fell agape.

“is that why you guys were fighting?” your pupils were blown and your mouth was still hanging open, ever so slightly. even when talking about the death of someone she cared for, she still loved the way you looked at her. like you cared.

“part of why. it was a shooting at a mall. I took her to that mall. I was there when it happened. I watched her die,” ellie spoke about the matter like it was just another blip in the radar. at this point in her life, that’s what it felt like. she got high so often that she was over it. she couldn’t afford therapy, so coping with drugs was the next best thing. “all of tess’s problems with me bubbled up that night. she had been in joel’s ear about how terrible I am, how much I smoke, how my lifestyle isn’t one they should agree with, y’know. and then she told him that it was my fault. that I didn’t protect sarah, his only living memory of his other wife. and for a while, he believed her.”

ellie’s eyes fell to the drink in her hands, and she watched it fizz and bubble. she wasn’t crying - she didn’t cry often. but reciting the story for the first time aloud brought on more feelings than she had anticipated it might’ve.

“I’m sure you can imagine the rest. joel and tess aren’t together anymore. tess died, cancer took her. karma sure is a bitch,” ellie laughed dryly, leaning back against the couch and manspreading. “he’s moving soon, since it’s just him in that big ol’ house. but I can’t go back. not after everything he said. not after he picked tess over me.”

“ellie… that’s– I’m so sorry, that’s so much worse than I thought it would be,” you faltered. you couldn’t find enough words, or the right words, to express the deepness you felt for her. “I’m sorry I didn’t try to reach out. I’ve spent years wondering about you, I should’ve made an effort.” ellie tried not to focus on the admission that thought about her, and shrugged.

“you didn’t know, nobody did. joel and tess were quiet about sarah’s death, quiet about their divorce, and when tess finally died, joel lived his life in the quiet. he hardly leaves, doesn’t have guests or friends.”

“I’m still sorry, els. truly.” ellie almost folded. “I have an appointment in half an hour, could we do this again? I’ll bring food, I can cook for you if you’ll let me.” ellie bit her lip, filthy images of you cooking for her (and doing other things for her) flooding her mind.

“yeah, that’d be great. next wednesday?” you grinned as you both stood up.

“perfect, send me your favorite dishes and I’ll go grocery shopping.” she walked you to the door, hand pressing gently into your lower back as she reached around you to the doorknob. your skin was on fire, you were sure you were blushing. through the thin material of your shirt, you could feel every bone in her fingers.

and… the drive to your appointment was nothing short of vulgar. well, vulgar to you. for someone like ellie, your unruly thoughts of her arms and fingers would probably just be considered slightly strange. but to you, your thoughts of her fingers curling against the curve of your waisted, or her arms pressing against your skin was dirty. no woman of god should think of another woman in the way you were thinking about her.

“But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Matthew 5:28.

unfortunately for you, your indecent thoughts didn’t stop at your doctor’s appointment, or in the car on the way home, or as you talked to your mother as you helped her prepare dinner. so, when you sat down at the square table, taking your brother’s hand and your father’s hand, you prayed.

that’s all you did, for the rest of the week -

you prayed at every meal and before you when to bed. you prayed when you woke up, when you brushed your teeth, when you dressed and undressed. you prayed for a clean mind, and you prayed for ellie. Everything about ellie. you prayed that she found healing for her wounds, and that she would be blessed with food for the table and therapy if she needed it.

prayers weren’t the only thing on your mind, though, no matter how much you begged god to cleanse your thoughts.

when the lights were off and the house was quiet, she crept into your mind. and for a while, you let her. you let yourself wonder what her hands might feel like on your skin, or what she might do to you if given the chance. how her voice would sound as she whispered filthy things into your ear in the dark, or if the tattoo traveling down her fingers had a sinister meaning; maybe that was the hand she used when she did things to other women. women that weren’t you, because she hardly knew you and it was obvious that she didn’t have a thought of attraction towards you.

but what if she did?

ellie was going just as crazy as you were, but in a totally different way - an actually crazy way. she was out of her mind over everything about you. you coming to her house only made it worse. she spent hours perched in her spot, watching you sleep, fucking recording you. she smelled her pillows in the living room while getting off because your perfume had found its way onto them. you coming back on wednesday almost scared her. she couldn’t possibly keep herself sane with you around. the only reason she could the first time was because you two were talking about sarah. but this time, just you and her and dinner? she was utterly and entirely fucked.

when you arrived at her apartment on wednesday night, ellie knew that this would never work out. you were in a pinstripe dress, one that fell much shorter than your mother would’ve ever been okay with if you hadn’t snuck out, and white frilly socks that disappeared into black loafers. ellie was finding a level of obsession with you that rooted itself deep inside her, and it was disgusting. gross, creepy even.

“hi ellie,” you said with your thousand dollar smile. you held up a grocery bag, full of ingredients for shrimp scampi. “I got everything we’ll need. my mom gave me one of her fancy recipes, so we’re set for the night.” for the night. ellie wondered how late she could get you to stay. she also wondered how much you’d hate her if she locked you up here forever.

you slipped your shoes off your feet and trotted into the kitchen, setting out all of the materials and pulling the recipe up on your phone. ellie leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as she watched you methodically arrange everything in order of steps. “are you just gonna stand there?” you joked, beginning to open some of her cabinets.

“nope, just waiting for instructions, boss.” she couldn’t help but flirt. maybe if she flirted enough you would stay the night.

with how bossy you were in the kitchen, ellie could only imagine how bossy you’d be in bed. Insisting on what you wanted and making her do it. she also wondered if maybe it was the opposite. maybe this was all a trick, and you really needed someone to tell you what to do all the time. only time would tell - but ellie was impatient.

the kitchen was extremely cramped, and though most days ellie hated this, today it gave her a perfect in. you had the cabinet door open and she needed something on the far side of you. so, in order to touch you, she gingerly grabbed your hips while you bent over to look in her low cabinets and slid behind you, crotch pressing into your ass for a single beat before she made it to the other side. it would’ve been so easy to just push her pussy against your ass and grind, but she had a little more dignity than that, even if it’s what her body begged her to do.

“sorry ‘bout that, babe, gotta grab a bowl over here.” ellie spoke in the sluttiest voice she could muster, and she could tell by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that her plan was working.

a warm feeling rushed through you, from your chest all the way down to your core. you were fluttering all over - the feeling of her hands being on you was just so right. you almost begged for her to come back, grab you like that again, see where it went. you couldn’t think about god anymore, not when she was touching you and calling you babe.

an hour and a half later, the food was finished and you two had eaten, and you gathered on the couch next to each other, same spots as last week. ellie had a movie on, and when you folded your legs beneath yourself to get comfortable, she could see your panties. they were light green, but that was the most she could tell. if she could get them off of you tonight, she could keep them - that’s what she was thinking about.

you were trying not to focus on her hands. her hands. they were right there, so close, begging to be touched. as the moving progressed, you became more and more entranced by them. the way she tapped her thigh and sipped her drink, it was all fascinating. “ellie,” you said, before you could think twice, earning a hum in response, “can I touch your hand?”

her brows knit. “my hands? why’d’ya wanna touch my hands, doll?” a flush of blush fell on your face as you tried to construct a good reason as to why you just asked to touch the poor woman’s hands.

luckily, though, she didn’t push. she simply moved her hand and let you grab it, waiting a minute before beginning to trace the intricate lines of her tattoo. it was calming before anything else. the bottom of the tattoo was just basic, black-filled leaves, while the top was detailed and complex. ellie’s hands were warm, and her fingers were beginning to develop calluses. when you glanced around the room, you spotted the guitar responsible, and let your mind wander onto whether that made it feel better.

ellie was, by some miracle, keeping her cool. that was, until, your fingertips danced away from her hand, sliding up her forearm. her heart beat faster, making her breath quicker. she was getting dizzy. there was no possible explanation for this, other than her obsession with you. this wasn’t normal; she never got this worked up by something so miniscule with other women (not that there had been other women for the last year, she was too busy following you home and watching you through your window).

“ellie,” she looked over, and you were closer now. you must’ve moved while she was busy in her head. your face was so close that she could almost feel you breathing. and when she met your eyes and your pupils blew, big pretty doe eyes staring back at her, it was over.

ellie’s lips on yours were like nothing you had ever felt before. if there was any heaven, it was right here, on ellie williams’ couch, as she grabbed the back of your head with her open hand and pulled you closer to her. moments ago you were going to ask her if you could sleep over (it was dark and it had begun to rain), but none of that mattered now. all that mattered was the way ellie’s lips moved against yours, and the way she forced your mouth open to suck on your tongue. and you could taste her. you could feel her kisses deep down in your bones, and certainly in your cunt, which was what was leading your thoughts.

ellie was violent. she didn’t waste any time grabbing your hips and dragging you onto her lap, sliding her hands up from your hips to your waist. finally, finally, you knew what it felt like to have her slender fingers wrapped tightly around your waist as she continued to suck your tongue. you placed your hands on her chest, balling up the fabric of her shirt and pulling her into you.

but, in that moment, it hit you. you were doing something terrible, something completely out of your character. lust was a deadly sin. you can’t ignore deadly sins.

you pushed ellie back and she pouted, lips swollen and wet. “we can’t do this, its-it’s not what god wants, it’s a sin, els. I think that god sent me to you to help you heal and you-you really can’t heal by sinning.” midway through your sentence, ellie’s lips latched onto your neck, spinning her tongue and sucking your skin.

“sweet girl, I promise you you can.” she went back to kissing your neck, hands sliding underneath the skirt of your dress and up your thighs. she had her hands on your hips in no time, gently guiding them down against her crotch. the seam of her jeans felt good against your cunt, there was no denying it - which led you to wonder why people couldn’t do this. why is something so good such a terrible thing in god’s eyes?

“ellie,” you moaning her name made her moan; all of her wet dreams were finally coming true. she had you here, hips grinding down against her pussy while you moaned her name. there was nothing in the world better than this. “ellie I’ve never done this before.” you whispered, which got you nowhere. instead, she groaned deeply into the crook of your neck, restricting herself from bucking her hips into yours.

“oh but baby I’ve watched you grind against your pretty pillow for too many nights to hear you say that,” you whined, hips jerking into her lap.

“what do you mean?” you pulled her off of your chest, briefly admiring her pink cheeks and light pant before redirecting your focus to the more important portion of the question.

“I used to watch you from your window in my car,” her head fell against your chest. “you used the same pillow every time. it’s light pink, with flowers. matches your bedspread.” your head was spinning. there was no possible way that you were hearing what you thought you were hearing.

“what the fuck,” you sputtered. “you watched me do something so incredibly private? something that’s only supposed to be between me and god? how disgusting are you?” your only problem with what you were saying was that something inside you wasn’t disgusted. something inside you longed to know what she thought about while she watched you, longed to know if she thought you looked good.

“I’m so fucking disgusting, baby,” she huffed, “I’ve spent all year thinking about how I could tear you apart. make you forget about god, break you. make humping your pillow feel like less than nothing compared to the way I make you feel.” you were wet. so incredibly wet that your mind couldn’t be bothered to think about the fact that she was borderline stalking you.

“show me,” you whispered, making her head snap up and her wide eyes meet yours, blazing.

“what?” she said, quickly, hands still firmly planted on your hips.

“show me how disgusting you are.”

ellie was stronger than you thought. her hands were steady as she carried you from her couch to her bed, practically tossing you onto the springy bed as she pulled her shirt off, leaving her in a simple black sports bra. she climbed over you, one arm next to your head and the other on your waist, squeezing it. “I need this dress off,” she insisted, tugging at the material.

you sat up, unzipping the back and pulling it off your upper body before falling back and letting her pull it off your legs, leaving you in a strapless bra and a pair of panties. she was on you immediately, hardly leaving herself any time to toss your dress into a pile with her shirt.

her lips fell upon your chest, kissing along the edge of your bra. she pulled it down from your tits, guiding your back into an arch so that she could unclip it. once she had it off, she was moaning into your skin as she ran her tongue along your nipple. pressing a knee against your crotch to give you something to grind against, she caught your nipple in her mouth and sucked, pressing on the underside with her tongue, hitting the perfect spot that made you whimper against her.

this was terrible. for both of you. you were sinning against god, the one man that truly knew you. but it made you wonder, maybe he didn’t truly know you. not if he condemned you to a life of hiding your attraction to women because it was against him.

and for ellie - ellie was in heaven. but this moment in time meant that she was never going to let you go. her obsession grew with every noise you made under her, so much so that the idea of locking you up here swam across her mind again. she needed you here. she needed to ruin anyone else for you, so that you would always come back. even if it meant you crawled on your hands and knees.

once ellie was done with you tits (which took a very long time), she traced her lips over your sternum and down your stomach, leaving a trail of hickies in her wake. she was like a woman mad when she made it to your panties. she was filthy, pressing her face into you and simply breathing in your smell, basking it in.

but, when she finally pressed her tongue against you, none of her behavior mattered anymore. there were no longer thoughts -worries- about the fact that she watched you during the night, or that she was simply breathing in the smell of your cunt. it was her and you, and you were forming into one being, driven by need.

ellie lapped at you like a dog over your panties, even if it got her nowhere. once you were begging her to take them off she did, peeling them away from you and tucking them in her back pocket. she licked fat strokes from the bottom to the top, flicking against your clit in all directions. every time she hit the perfect spot, your legs shook hard, and your head lolled back against the pillow.

though your hand was in her hair and you could probably hold her anywhere that you wanted, you let her take charge, eating you like her life depended on it. like it was her last meal. she slid her tongue in you, sucked your clit, anything she could do to make you as wet as possible.

gently, she pressed the tip of her middle finger against your opening, unrelenting with her pace against your clit. you hardly noticed with the waves of pleasure rolling through your body, until you felt the slight burn of the small stretch from her fingers. now, her fingers weren’t all that large, but they were boney and long, and when her first finger bottomed out, you were already seeing stars. you were panting her name, arching and squirming every time she angled her fingers up against the spot you could never quite hit inside you.

pulling away from your clit, she pressed another finger into you, this time creating a slightly uncomfortable stretch. with a couple deep breathes, you were rocking your hips into her hand, trying to get the most out of her that you could. “look at me,” ellie demanded, making your eyes snap to hers. “because you’re a good girl, you’re not going to cum, do you hear me?” frantically, you nodded along to her words, but unfortunately, they didn’t last long.

with ellie’s ceaseless pace and her insistence on hitting every pleasure point she could, your stomach was coiling and your vision was going white, mere moments after telling her you wouldn’t, and surprisingly, she let you. she pushed until your orgasm was over, then pulled her fingers from you and sucked them clean, darkness in her eyes that you had never seen before.

“what did I tell you not to do?” she asked, pushing up from where she was laying and standing up, walking over to her closet and pulling out a large shoe box.

“cum.” you mumbled, a little scared and a little excited. you had an inkling as to what was in the box, but you were unsure, desperate to know regardless.

“do good girls cum when they’re not supposed to?” you shook your head, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. a part of you told yourself that this was crazy and gross, that no one was possibly attracted to this and that you should be ashamed, but the other half craved her approval. craved to be good for her, and to do what she says. and that part overrode the other.

climbing onto and kneeling on the bed in front of you, ellie reached beside you and grabbed one of her pillows, handing it to you before standing back up and leaning against one of the posters of her bed. you looked at her, confused. “since you love coming without permission and humping your pretty pillow, you’re gonna do it for me until you come again. can’t be that hard, sweetheart.”

you knew she wouldn’t let you out of this. with a pout, you sat up, placing the pillow between your thighs and sitting against it, slowly rocking your hips to find a nice rhythm. you leaned forward, planting one hand on the bed below you and the other on the pillow, letting your back relax as you found a good spot. ellie stood before you, doing nothing but watching. she followed your hips as they moved back and forth, eventually coming down hard and fast against her pillow as you chased your release.

historically, humping your pillow never really got you anywhere, but you were too scared to finger yourself, fearing that it would make you impure to whomever your future husband was. turns out, all you needed was an orgasm prior to doing it to make you cum.

with a strangled moan you came again, panting as you unmounted the pillow and looked over at ellie, who looked just about ready to fuck your brains out. coincidentally, that’s what she was planning on doing.

she pushed away from the poster and unzipped her pants, kicking them off as she reached for her box. she didn’t only pull out one thing, no, she pulled out an army. first, a forest green strap attached to a black harness, which she sat on the end of the bed, followed by two other dildos, one black and one pink. you couldn’t fathom what she could possibly need three for, and you had to imagine you were in for a rough couple of hours.

“we’re gonna try some stuff, pretty girl. you’re gonna love it, since you love being stuffed so much.” she grabbed your hips, and, with a tug, flipped you onto your stomach. instinctively, you pushed your hips up, gripping the sheets in anticipation. though you couldn’t easily see her, you could hear her uncapping a bottom and squirting something onto either her fingers or the strap, before squirting it onto you.

the liquid was cold, and she started the drip down your ass, until it crept down your opening. with a toss of the bottle, she pressed one hand between your shoulder blades and used the other to maneuver the strap towards your entrance, starting with just the tip. she took it slow, pushing in inch by inch and letting you adjust to them. this was a different kind of full, compared to ellie’s fingers. the strap was stretching you in all directions, burning as you clung tight to it. and when she finally bottomed out, you were sure nothing would ever feel better than this.

once it was all in comfortably, ellie wasted no time fucking into you. she was going crazy watching the full length of her dick get swallowed up by your soaked pussy, covered in slick and lube and her spit. this was every dream she had ever had coming true.

“we’re gonna try something else now, okay?” you whined in protest, enjoying the feeling of her dick inside you, it was almost familiar now. but she didn’t pull out like you anticipated, instead she reached over and grabbed the pink dildo, lubing it up with whatever she used earlier.

“ellie what are you doing?” you asked, part pant. just for the question, she pulled out and took a deep thrust into you, trying to keep you satisfied while she fiddled with the lube. before you could utter another thought, the second dildo was probing your ass, slowly, cautiously, pressing into your asshole. “ellie!” you whimpered.

“you need to trust me baby. I know my girl wants all her holes filled. trust me, we’re gonna fill all of them.” you whined as she pushed the head of the dildo in your ass, tears welling up in your eyes from the burn. after only a few inches, you were sure you couldn’t take anymore. you were so full, everything pressing into you at every angle. but ellie was persistent - cooing at you until she got the last two inches in, and then groaning like a mad man.

the sight was one to die for: you, face and tits squished into the bed with your ass up in the air, full of her dick and dildo. with one hand on your hip and the other placed back against your shoulder blades, ellie fucked you at a rapid pace, thrusts shaking the whole bed against the wall. not only was she chasing your third release, but she was chasing her own as well, and the way the harness hit her clit when she fucked hard could get her there.

with the sight and the noises you were making, ellie came in no time. you followed soon after, crying from overstimulation and the pure feeling that came with a third orgasm around double penetration. but ellie wasn’t done yet - she pulled out two dildos for a reason, and the other was still waiting for its purpose. she did promise to fill all your holes, after all.

pulling out from you and climbing to the front of her bed, ellie used the suction of the dildo to attach it to her headboard. you wondered if she maybe wanted to watch you fuck against it, like you had seen in a few porn videos over the years, but that wasn’t the case.

“you’re gonna suck that dick while I fuck you,” she instructed, and the idea seemed totally crazy, but when your mouth was lined up with the dildo and she was slipping into you again, you were more than willing to try anything.

with each of her thrusts, the dildo hit the gag of your throat, making you gag and choke and moan. you must’ve looked crazy; tears rolling down your cheeks, drool gathering around your bottom lip and dripping onto her pillow. to her, well, she just came again watching you. she marveled at how far down your throat you could take her dick, reveling on how you had ‘never done this before’.

with a squeal and more gagging, you came for the fourth time and final time of the night, slumping against the pillows beneath you. ellie let up when she came again, making you cry even harder. she pulled her dick out and eased the dildo out of your ass, tossing them back in the box to wash them.

“my girl did such a good job,” she praised as she brought you a washcloth, running it down your thighs and over your pussy. your mind was foggy, too foggy to bother with a response or anything other than crawling under the covers (ellie had to lift them up and tuck you in). “you’ll stay the night, yeah?” the bedside clock read one a.m.

“yeah,” you mumbled, resting your head on her chest and letting your eyes flutter shut. when you awoke the next morning, you knew you would have several feelings surrounding everything that happened, the most prevent knowing that it was absolutely fucking disgusting.

taglist: @lvlymicha @pearlywhitecigarettes @na0koz @natalieisntreal @bbnbhm @civiueueueh @mya123abc @bartshart @kaykeryyy @vahnilla @bellaramseysgirlfriend @piercedome @littlemisslexapro55555

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 5 Part Two

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go to a Shibari class together; an innocent date, or is it?

TW: age gap (Joel 45/reader 22), reader does have some descriptors so more of an OC. Reader has longer hair and Joel can lift her. Mutual pining, kissing. Spoiler triggers below the cut in red.

WC: 8.2k

AN: Ok fiiiiiinnnneeeeee I couldn't wait any longer and I left you all on kind of a cliffhanger. As always, thank you to my lovely @lotusbxtch for reading and encouraging and helping me grow. Thanks @mermaidgirl30 , @littlevenicebitch69 and @joelmillerisapunk for being my lil cheerleaders. @for-a-longlongtime thanks for stoping me from working on that bull rider series LOL. Ok, enjoy this slowly because I haven't even STARTED chapter 6 yet, so I doubt it will be out until late October. Dividers and banners by the oh so talented @saradika-graphics

Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: complete sensory deprivation (tied down, blind folded and has hearing blocked), multiple orgasms, denial

Joel

Joel has tried to keep his distance since referring to tonight as a date. He left another large tip for your clean this week and then made sure he was as busy as possible to stop himself from going home to see you. As he coaxed you into drinking the orange juice and the water he kept hearing “it’s a date” over and over again in his mind, and he’d cringe internally. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you had leaped out of that bed and ran home. The thought of you wanting him in that way is ridiculous. Not only because he’s over twice your age, but you came to him for help with building self confidence and for an escape, and then he went and said something so fucking stupid. 

He shakes his head and pulls up his emails, trying to distract himself for what feels like the one hundredth time. Of course he wants to date you, he’d be crazy not to, but he can’t blur those lines. Furthermore, even if there was the slightest chance that you felt the same way he can’t risk breaking your heart the way he’s broken so many others.

She’s going to break yours, old man. Not the other way around.

Wednesday has been absolutely crawling. Time almost mocking him with how slow it’s ticking by. As he goes over the list of tonight's guests, Tess knocks on his small office door at the club.

“Hey,” she says, plopping down in the arm chair across from the desk. “You coming tonight?”

“Of course. Looks like a good turn out. Did the instructor make it in ok?”

“Cap picked her up from the airport yesterday and got her all settled at the hotel. Do you think you’re going to need me tonight?”

Joel cocks an eyebrow at her. He’s known Tess since she was ten. Her and Tommy are the same age, Joel being two years their senior. Aside from a few months when Tess and Tommy were sixteen, the three of them have been inseparable ever since. Tess was usually the undeclared leader of the group due to her bossy nature, but she kept the Miller brothers out of trouble most of the time. 

“What’s wrong, Tess?”

“Nothin’,” she crosses her arms across her chest. “I am the planner, you and Tommy are the personality. I’m fine to stay behind the scenes for this one.”

“You’ve been acting strange since the poker night.”

She rolls her eyes at him. She’s probably the only person ballsy enough to do that to Joel besides Tommy, but Joel’s almost convinced his little brother is more dumb than ballsy. “I’m fine, Joel. The staff is all in good morale, and that’s my department. Remember?”

Joel just stares as she continues, lowering her voice to mock his. “I need you to be the people person. Hire them, train them. I’m not patient enough because I’m a big scary dom who will just want to spank them for not listening. I also can’t plan anything because I have a man brain.”

“Hilarious,” Joel deadpans as Tess laughs at her own jokes. “I’m being serious though, are you sure you're ok?”

“Yes, you don’t need to be concerned about me. I’m actually a little gutted I’m gonna miss it. Tommy told me there’s been a very pretty young lady hanging around you lately.”

Joel puts his reading glasses on with one hand and pointing to his door with the other. “Out.”

You

Joel referring to tonight as a date has been on loop for the last few days. He has this amazing way of shutting off your brain and then leaving you with so many new questions. Either way, when a few more college letters came over the last few days you convinced yourself that right before leaving for the shibari-demonstration-slash-date was the best time to open them. 

Odette and Jamie sit on the couch across from you as you slide open the first letter. The thick eggshell parchment stamped with the Yale logo pops open easily. You close your eyes as you open the paper, the only sound in the room is the thundering of your heart behind your ribs. 

You peel your eyes open and read out loud. “We regret to inform you that you have not…” your voice falls off, fingers shaking as you put it back in the envelope.

“Hey, we expected a few no’s,” Jamie says gently, always the optimist.

Odette takes the other approach, “Their fucking loss, bunch of stuffy old cunts! Next!”

You laugh at the juxtaposition of your friends' responses and reach for the Harvard letter. “We regret to inform you…”

“Keep going babe,” Jamie says softly.

You pick up the bright white Columbia letter. “We regret to inform you…fuck.” You feel the defeat start to creep in, like thick morning fog. It’s suffocating, choking all the happiness and excitement you had for tonight. 

“What the fuck is wrong with these schools!” Odette says, snatching the letters up so she can check for herself. “Do the Toronto one, Canadians are supposed to be nice.”

“I can’t open anymore,” you say as your head falls back into the sofa. The fog starts to spread through your body, shutting you down inch by inch. You know you have to open the rest. You’ll spend the rest of the night wondering what they say if you don’t finish them. “You do it, Jamie.”

She shuffles in her seat uncomfortably. She’s not the kind of girl who likes to disappoint others; she's bright and happy but at this moment she’s the only person that you can take bad news from. As if she can read your thoughts, she grabs the University of Toronto letter. The sound of the envelope popping open slices through you. She clears her throat as she opens the paper and then reads aloud the same sentence you did. The letters from Duke and Notre Dame follow the same painful routine. With each rejection your stomach swirls, nausea building on top of self doubt and anxiety. 

Six out of the eight universities you applied to have turned you down; Berkeley and the University of Austin are your only chances left at reaching your dreams. The silence in the small rental unit has you on edge, so much so that when your phone vibrates beside you you jump. A sunset beach photo from your last trip to California is the background from a text from Cap telling you he’ll be at your doorstep in about twenty minutes. 

“I gotta finish getting ready,” you say, dragging yourself to the bathroom to touch up any makeup and brush your teeth.

“Babe?” Jamie says, following you down the hall. “You wanna stay here instead of going to that mixer?”

The reminder of the lie sends a new wave of nausea through you. Tonight you became a law school reject and an even bigger liar. Don’t forget that you’re also falling in love with an unattainable man, says the glittery pink box. You mentally lift a single finger in its direction, it usually doesn’t turn on you like that. 

“I need the distraction.” You say, deciding that that’s not really a lie.

Your friends look at you with sadness in their eyes and even though you’re sad too, you wish you could tell them about Mister Miller and the club. You know they’d be excited about whatever this thing is and it would really help to have someone to decipher all the moments that live in your mind.

“It’s a date”.

When you walk through the large door from the lobby and into the club, you’re welcomed by a completely different atmosphere. It’s not all dim lights and sexy music like it normally is; instead the overhead lights are on and all the people are dressed in regular clothing or athletic wear and not the sexy outfits they’d normally pick to come here. Joel is no exception, dressed in dark wash jeans and a fitted black t-shirt. You catch the glint of his gold ring while he’s engrossed in deep conversation with a blue and purple haired woman along the edge of the dance floor. As if you’re his due north or the other side of his magnet, after just seconds of being in the same room as him, his eyes collide with yours. He mouths an ‘excuse me’ at the woman without looking away from and his long legs eat up the distance between the two of you. He meets you just before the bar and immediately wraps his arms around you, one hand coming to the nape of your neck, silently guiding your forehead to his strong chest.

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” You love how easily he can read you, but you hate that this is the second time this week that he’s seeing you like this. You know you have moments of weakness, but you don’t let anyone see that and you DEFINITELY don’t inconvenience others with your weakness. 

“Hasn’t been my best day, but I really don’t want to talk about it.” You don’t want to dump all of this on him now, not when he looked so excited when you said you’d attend tonight. 

“Ok, I’m here for you if you want to talk about it though. You don’t have to deal with this on your own.” His lips come to the crown of your head and you breathe him in letting his ash and leather scent break down your walls. 

“I didn’t get in,” you mumble and he holds you tighter for a brief second before his hand moves to your chin and tilts up to meet your gaze.

“All of them?” he asks gently but something akin to anger flares in eyes for just a second. 

“Six of them. I haven’t heard from two.” His thumb feels like heaven as it runs along your jaw.

From across the club the blue and purple haired woman, who is now on the stage, claps her hands. “Good evening, everyone! I’m Starr. If you and your brave partners could start making your way to the floor, we can get started right away!”

“Do you want to leave?” Joel says, his warm coffee and chocolate eyes dancing around yours. No one looks at you like that; no one ever asks what you want. This is one of those looks that you wish you could talk to your friends about.

“No,” you say truthfully. “I want to be here with you.”

“I wasn’t going to let you leave without me. Do you want to go somewhere else together?”

You step back and grab his hand, his fingers thread through yours as if you do this everyday, as if this is normal, and you pull him towards the floor. He stands behind you, an arm wrapped protectively around your middle, similar to how he did the first time you went through the voyeur room. Starr introduces herself and her wife and then begins explaining rope safety and terminology like rigger and rope bunny, before launching into a step by step on tying a beautiful star harness across her wifes clothed chest. The two women hand ropes to the person who will be doing the rigging and as the rope lands in Joel’s hand your pussy flutters at the realization that you’re about to become Mister Miller’s rope bunny. You knew that coming here tonight, even if it did include lying to your friends, would help you feel better. The disappointment of being rejected is slowly replaced with an excited anticipation of learning something new with a man who has done nothing but choose you since laid your eyes on each other.

Starr projects step by step instructions up on the back wall of the stage and Joel clears his throat behind you as he begins. The sound of the rope running through his hands as he folds it in half sends a shiver up your spine. You try to distract yourself by clipping your hair up and out of the way. 

“Arms up,” he rasps, and places a light kiss on the soft curve of your neck as he wraps the rope around your ribcage, just below your breasts. You purposely wore a tight t-shirt and leggings tonight. If anyone asks, you’ll say you just assumed it would be easier to be in something form fitting rather than loose, but the truth is that you did some research on Shibari classes and it was recommended to wear clothing that was tight to the body. As he walks around you to make the first diagonal cross of your chest he says, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You lock your eyes with his as he loops back up, crossing the rope over your other shoulder and walks behind you. “Yes, at least not yet.” 

“Alright,” he says softly, pulling the rope back through the first band he made. “What do you want to talk about then?”

Your daughter. Your wife. The guitars and books of lyrics. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? Do you like me or do you like like me? How do you feel about an age gap romance? Your brain races with a million things you could ask, and maybe would ask on a date. However, this is anything but a date, right? A dom and sub don’t date, there are strict rules. He tells you what to do, you do it. You don’t date.

The silence between you two feels like it’s lasted forever, you flinch as you ask the first thing you can think of. “How old are you?”

“Almost forty five. It says that on my profile, sweet girl. For someone who likes research…” His voice trails off. Is he flirting?

“I refuse to look at it in case you try to pawn me off to Tommy again,” you tease. You bite your cheek to hold in all the questions you want to ask as he chuckles behind you. You lift your arms as per the next slide and he brings the rope up towards your armpit as you settle on a neutral topic. “Baseball,” you say flatly.

Joel laughs silently as he walks around your body, the rope coming across to your other armpit and he’s behind you again. “Baseball?”

“Ya, it’s America’s favourite pastime.” Joel's fingers feel warm through the fabric of your shirt as he continues to work the ropes. 

“Ok, so what do you want to discuss about baseball?” He wanders in front of you again, following the instructions perfectly.

You shrug a little, lifting your arms again as you follow along with the slides. “Did you ever play?”

Starr circles around the two of you, “Great job, Joel. You ok, honey? Not too tight anywhere?”

You shake your head no and then you and Joel get lost in each other again. “Yes, I played for most of my childhood. I was pretty good too.”

You chuckle, “Why am I not surprised.”

“What?” he says, half laughing.

“Seems like Joel Miller is good at everything,” you say lightly, almost in admiration. He’s behind you again, feeding the ropes through themselves. The back looks beautifully intricate, and you can see other couples getting frustrated before either Starr or her wife comes and helps them. You continue, “Let me guess, you were like a big all-star pitcher or something?”

“No,” he answers.

“What position did you play then?” You glance down at your chest at the star shape across your chest, the rope scrapes gently on the exposed skin of your neck with the movement. It’s stunning, exactly as the demonstration and the picture. Yep, Joel Miller is good at everything. 

A new voice joins your conversation, “Best first baseman the school has ever seen.”

You crane your neck over your right shoulder towards the source; Tommy. You clench your molars when you see him with Jade; the beautiful icy blonde woman that Joel had tied to his desk the first time you met him. Joel shifts uncomfortably as she flutters her lashes at him. “As I was saying,” Joel huffs in his brother's direction before turning his attention back to you. “I played first base and Tommy was the back catcher. Our mom pretty much put us in any sport she could afford to keep us out of trouble.” 

“That’s kind of fascinating,” you say, looking back towards the stage and trying to get back into the safe little bubble you and Joel have created. 

“I dunno about that, sweet girl.”

The combination of him using that nickname and the feeling of his fingers on your body cause another shiver to roll up your spine, and suddenly it’s just the two of you again. It’s so easy to get lost with Joel, every ounce of that fog from earlier has dissipated. He’s like the warm morning sun, chasing away all the thick haze that coated you in the darkness. “I think this is a safe nickname space only, Sweet Cheeks.”

He swats your bum gently eliciting a giggle to pass your lips before getting back to weaving the rope in and out along your spine. “Careful. Now why is it kind of fascinating?”

“I mean, Tommy played at home plate, you played at first base.”

“I don’t know where you’re going here, Freckles.”

You smile over your shoulder at Joel. “Well, don’t you see the connection? You don’t have sex with your subs, Tommy does. He goes to home plate, you stay at first base.”

Joel arches an eyebrow at you as you flash him a cheeky smile and then he lets out a laugh. A real laugh that sounds like it’s coming straight from his stomach. His big beautiful smile draws up his cheeks causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle. The sound is almost enough to make you weak at the knees. “I swear to god, Freckles, I love the way your brain works.”

The rest of the group finishes off their harnesses and Starr begins the next part, explaining now how to tie the arms around the biceps and secure them to the harness. They hand out the ropes again and you reach behind yourself to criss cross your arms and grasp your opposite elbows. Just as Joel begins folding the rope over in his hands, Jade speaks.

“She sort of hit the nail on the head with that one, Mister Miller.” Envy flares in your eyes as she steps towards Joel, leaning into him. “I can’t wait for tomorrow. I’ve missed you.”

You glance towards Joel, expecting to see him looking angry but his soft eyes meet you with guilt written all over his face. You watch his throat as he swallows hard and the happy, sparkly bubble you built bursts and the fog returns. Your heart drops to your feet, it was too good to be true, you knew it was too good to be true and he almost had you fooled. You don’t think, you just act, you need to get away from this space and all these people as bile rises in your throat.

Your feet feel heavy as you walk quickly toward the voyeur room, slipping past the closed sign that's propped up outside the curtain that conceals it. Darkness surrounds you, the rope harness feels like it’s smothering you as you try to take deep calming breaths. A flash of light from the otherside of the curtain fills the room as someone follows.

“Go away, Joel.” You say quietly, trying to force air past the lump growing in your throat. 

“It’s Tommy.” He says, flicking on a dim light and noting the way you’re pulling at the rope closest to your throat. “Let me untie you so you don’t hurt yourself.”

You step back, a wall slamming down around you. Tommy raises his hands, “Please, just let me untie you so you can breathe.”

You spin slowly, giving your back to him and he approaches. His fingers pulling and working the ropes and the irony of him removing knots as you start to mentally tie yourself up in them is enough to make you nauseous. You retreat into your mind, looking for that stupid box. I fucking told you! You practically scream at the shadow you know it’s hiding in.

“Try to slow your breathing for me,” Tommy says softly as the rope begins to loosen and fall away from your body. Tonight felt too normal, too comfortable. You started to feel like maybe Joel was feeling the same way you do, but now you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face with yet another reminder that you are not enough. Six out eight universities and the man you completely misread. 

“I’m so fucking stupid.” It doesn’t come out self deprecating or angrily. Just as if you’re stating a fact, similar to how you’d say you like the colour green. 

“No, this is on me.” The rope falls away from your body and you step away, spinning to face Tommy. “I shouldn’t have said yes when she asked me to bring her here tonight. I assumed Joel had ended it before they were in Europe.”

“What?” You breathe out in disbelief. Even though you can see the rope in Tommy’s hands, it still feels like it’s around your throat.

You wander towards the nearest couch. All those pictures, all those flirty texts and she was there the entire time? You hear your mothers voice again, ‘You might be the smartest one in this town but the real world is going to eat you up and spit you out.’ Nothing has felt more true, especially today. Six schools rejected you, selecting smarter shinier applicants and now the same thing is happening with Joel. You knew you didn’t hold a candle to her, he wanted you to go with Tommy so he could keep her, didn’t he?

‘It’s only you.’ His desperate voice from the day in his office comes out of the shadows of your mind. But it’s not only you. If he didn’t end it with her then it’s her too. You’re constantly in competitions that you have no business being in. 

“No, not ‘they’. Not like that. They were there for different things, not together,” Tommy’s voice has a hint of panic. “...I’m really fucking this night up, aren’t I?”

Just then, Joel and Jade come through the curtain. “Sweet girl….”

“No,” you say, cutting him off with a wave of your hand. You want to yell and scream and ask him what was with all that “it’s only you” bullshit.

“Baby, please, just listen to me.” Joel kneels in front of you and you stand up. His hands come to either side of the couch, keeping you there. “Please?”

You can feel his eyes on you but you keep staring straight ahead, the curtains of all the rental rooms are drawn shut. “Please just go, Joel.”

Jade steps into your line of vision and you can feel the jealousy twisting at your stomach. She’s fucking beautiful. Long icy blonde hair that looks silky to touch, slender limbs and a perfectly symmetrical face. Her make up is done to perfection, and to top it all off she was kissed by an angel in the breast department. 

“I’m sorry. I left the country a few days after I saw you for your birthday celebration. I went to Germany to get married and I wasn’t coming back.” Her eyes go soft for a second as she looks down at her bare left ring finger and then back to you. “Clearly I didn’t do either of those things. I haven’t spoken to Joel and I just assumed our regular time slots still stood.”

Even without looking down, you know Joel hasn’t looked away. From the moment you met him, you’ve been able to feel his gaze on you. It’s one of the things you like so much about him, the way he looks at you. You feel warm and seen, and most importantly, safe in his gaze.

Tommy clears his throat gently and you glance his way. “Ending things with a sub is tricky. It has to be done in person. I know Joel better than anyone else, he ended things with everyone else. He’s gonna beat the shit out of me for this, but he’s crazy about you and he’s only ever looked at one other person the way he looks at you.”

“Tommy,” Jade's voice cracks as she says his name. “I think you should untie me so I can leave. I really am sorry, to all of you.”

You watch the two of them disappear back into the main area of the club before you finally allow yourself to look down at Joel. His eyes are big and soft, he looks so vulnerable. Is this real though? When you think about how easily he can slide on his dominant mask you aren’t sure what you can and can’t trust, and that’s really fucking horrible considering trust is the most important thing between a sub and dom. He could be lying, he gains blow jobs and doing whatever else he wants to your body by keeping this up. 

But what does Tommy gain from telling you what he just did? Tommy has no skin in the game here.

Joel  

His heart is flying wildly behind his chest, blood coursing through his ears. He never thought he was going to see Jade again. Neither of them talked about it really, but after that session that you walked in on she canceled the next one and told him she was moving to be with her fiance in Germany and was getting married. He continues to look up at you; the ever growing pinch in his neck be damned, he’s not looking away. Even at this angle you manage to take his breath away. It feels like hours have gone by when you finally speak.

“I thought it was only me,” it comes out as a whisper and immediately shatters the little bits that were left of his composure. 

“It is, sweet girl. I promise you it is.”

“I want to believe you,” your voice is so calm. He doesn’t deserve you being calm right now. Or does he? You came into this very methodical. Maybe these are just sub-dom transactions to you.

“What can I do?” He says hopefully. “I’ll do anything you need, sweet girl.”

You let out a shaky breath and he can see the wall building behind your eyes, that fun goofy girl who isn’t afraid to crack a joke is slowly locking herself away. He prepares himself for you to tell him this is over, or that you need time. He reminds himself that this was always going to end in heartbreak for him, so may as well get it over with now instead of when he’s fully in love with you, before he’s learned how those warm walls of your pussy feel against his cock. Because there really will be no coming back from that if that happens.

As he tightens the muscles in his core, physically preparing for the metaphorical blow to the gut he watches your long lashes flutter shut and when you open your eyes again the wall is gone. The shimmering pools of the eyes he’s enamored by are back and relief washes over him. 

“Nothing, Mister Miller,” your voice is saccharine sweet. “Trust is the most important thing between a sub and their dom. I can’t let my own anxiety ruin this, but I might just be a bit guarded until I’ve calmed all those thoughts.”

He whispers your name, biting back a groan as your hands meet his hair. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby girl.”

“I know. So am I. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous. It’s just…”

“No, you can be jealous. I told you one thing and -.”

You tug at the strands of his hair and shush him. “I’m not done,” your voice is stern. Joel isn’t used to hearing your tone like that and he suddenly feels his chest swelling with pride. This sweet bubbly person in front of him is morphing into a confident badass. That’s probably the exact tone you’ll use in boardrooms or courtrooms when other lawyers try to talk over you and he can only hope that one day he’ll get to witness that. “I shouldn’t have gotten jealous, but I really like the way I feel around you. It’s selfish of me, but I’d like to keep feeling like this for the few months I have left here before I leave for law school.”

Selfish. He lets that word wash over him. The most selfless person he’s ever known is worried about being selfish? No, he thinks, she deserves this. Hearing you say that you’re leaving makes him feel like his chest is caving in on itself. He’ll deal with the inevitable heartbreak when you leave him. He knows those rejection letters were hard on you, but he helped you to feel better and he’s going to hold on to that and give you that for as long as he possibly can. 

Your fingers release his hair and he watches you walk the few steps to where the rope Tommy untied for you lays on the floor. He licks his lips as you bend to pick it up, eyes trailing over the delicious curves of your ass. “It would be my pleasure, sweetheart.”

You turn, walking back towards where he’s kneeling and holding the ropes out to him you say, “Is the workshop over?”

He stands up, his fingers grazing yours as he takes the rope. Electricity tingles up his forearms at the feel of your soft skin. Your body is so close to his that he can feel your soft warmth radiating against him. You being at this proximity immediately put him at ease.

“No, there’s a bodysuit tutorial right now,” he says. You nod, stepping around him. Suddenly, Joel grabs your elbow to stop you, lowering his lips to your ear, and lowering his voice to that gravelly tone he knows you love, he rasps, “I should punish you for letting another dom untie what’s mine.”

You smirk up at him, “I’d like to see you try, Sweet Cheeks.”

You

Joel works silently around you and you lose yourself for a bit in the events that unfolded tonight. Joel has knelt in front of you before, but never like that. The sad, helpless look in his eyes, the slight slump of the shoulders. He was submitting to you, and when your fingers met his scalp, he leaned into your touch. The way his body melted at your touch was intoxicating. He wasn’t Mister Miller in that room tonight, he was Joel, and the dichotomy of this man is astounding. 

After about thirty minutes of Joel twisting, turning and pulling he has your upper half tied into a zigzagged bodysuit of rope. Joel steps in front of you and bends slightly to reach between your legs. When he brings the rope between your thighs and as he feeds it through the bottom of the chest piece, the seam of your leggings brushes against your clit. You jolt at the contact, your cheeks flushing crimson as Joel's eyes meet yours in a flash of onyx and honey. He begins shaping the bottom part of the bodysuit, bent in front of you the entire time and locking eyes with yours every time he tugs the ropes into place. 

You glance nervously around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction. You expected this night to be fun and silly, the way a date should be. And it was for a while, but now it’s taken a very erotic turn. The blush of your cheeks warms down your chest and neck as you hold off on what could be a very vocal orgasm in front of a room of people who you don’t necessarily want to witness it.

Joel finally finishes the body suit and moves to stand behind you, his patchy facial hair brushes the shell of your ear as he whispers, his voice full of gravel, “Hands behind your back, my sweet girl. We aren’t done.”

A shiver races up your spine and your arms fly back. “So eager,” Joel says softly, grazing his teeth along the lobe of your ear, adding gasoline to the small fire that’s been building between your thighs.  

You’re sure the arm restraints only take about three minutes to complete, but it feels like hours. The three knots that lay around your wrists, forearms, and biceps keep your posture nice and tall, and your breasts pushed up through the body suit. Once he’s finished, Joel spins you to face him, and that rope works its way in between the lips of your now absolutely soaked pussy. You squeeze your thighs together, the soft expression on his face only intensifying the growing ache. He’s such a fucking tease, you think, and now he’s looking at you as if you put the stars in the sky. Finally, his dark brown eyes settle on yours and he gives you a closed lip smile.

“What?” You ask breathlessly.

“I jus’ thought that I’d go all caveman seein’ you like this,” he steps into you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other tugging on the rope near your waist, which jiggles the rope that has you on edge. Joel’s voice lowers, this next part just for you to hear. “But you just look so beautiful.”

He tugs up on the rope and pleasure courses through you as you gasp quietly. He gives you that sexy smirk that makes that dimple carve into his cheek. 

Yep, he’s a fucking tease. The little box says, confirming your thoughts. 

“You like that, sweet girl?”

He tugs again and your forehead falls to his chest. “Please, Mister Miller,” you whisper into his expensive cotton t-shirt. 

Starr interrupts the two of you, but you can’t peel yourself away from Joel right now. The slightest move of that rope might make you explode. “Well, based on that reaction I’d say you tied it just right, Joel.”

“Thank you for coming, Starr. I’m sure we’ll host one of these again soon. Tommy is by the bar, he can help you kick everyone out.”

“Joel,” she says, a slight hint of amusement in her now hushed voice. “Your rope bunny is on the verge of having an orgasm, go.”

With that he hoists you over his shoulder and walks towards the door that leads to the private rooms. “Fuckfuck, I’m gonna -” you whisper into his broad back and squeeze your thighs tighter as Joel walks. 

The second the door shuts, separating you from the others Joel puts you on your feet and jiggles the rope around your waist. “Come, baby.”

You fall into him for support, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you up as stars blur your vision. “That feel good, my little rope bunny?” 

“Yes - oh god, yes.” Your arms pull at the ropes restraining them behind your back and you can’t hold it anymore. Your orgasm practically slams through you as you gasp and moan into Joel's broad chest. “Fuck, Mister Miller.”

 “You’re so beautiful when you let go for me. I’ll never get sick of watching you like this.” He continues to work the rope as your high crests and your legs start to go weak and boneless below you.

“I can’t…p-please Mis - Fuck.” Joel lifts your lax and quivering body over his shoulder again and makes his way to his room, placing you at the foot of the bed, spinning you and pushing between your shoulder blades until your chest meets the mattress.

“Spread your legs,” he commands and you listen, moving your feet to be shoulder width apart. He wraps two cuffs around your ankles, and attaches them to the bottom of the bed posts before doing the same to the ropes around your arms. You’re trapped, stuck bent over the end of the bed and even though you’re fully clothed under all of these ropes, this is easily the hottest thing you’ve ever done. “Fuck me. How are you so goddamn sexy even when you’re fully clothed.”

You hear Joel’s footsteps around the room, gathering whatever he has decided to use on you tonight before you can feel him behind you. “Sweet girl, I do believe I read that you would be interested in sensory deprivation. Is that correct?” 

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you hum.

“Do I have your consent to blindfold you and then have you listen to music in noise canceling headphones?”

Fire erupts in your stomach, your core pulsing at the thought of him doing whatever he wants to you. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

A silky black blind fold slips over your head, Joel's large body covering your back. “What’s your safeword?” he growls, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“Stegosaurus.” Just once you’d like that to not leave your lips in the whiny, desperate tone it does when he asks you that question. 

“Good girl,” he praises before the plush headphones cover your ears. All you see is black, all you hear is soft decorative piano music, and all you feel is the warmth of Joel over your buzzing skin. There’s not a single thought in your mind, everything is silent. This is what you need and you start to worry that you’ll become addicted to the way Joel makes you feel everything while thinking nothing. 

The warmth of his body disappears from you and you whimper at the loss. Your eyes clench closed as if that will help you be able to find him. A thin, pulsing vibrator hits the back of your thigh and you jump. Joel's large hands rubs your opposite hip and every muscle relaxes under his touch. The vibrator pulses softly as he moves it up your thigh, tickling along your hip, and then down the other leg. You can’t hear the sounds that you’re making but you’re sure they’re desperate, needy gasps.

After teasing your arms Joel slips something small and hard between your body and the rope that’s been torturously teasing at your clit before you feel him pull away. You adjust so your forehead is resting on the mattress before it dips with the weight of him sitting beside your head. His warm fingers wrap around your neck and he kneads the muscles.

“Mmmm, thank you Mister Miller,” you hum. 

Whatever Joel slipped against your clit comes to life, a dull vibration that is sure to be your undoing has you attempting to arch your back, but you can’t move. Your breathing quickens, short little puffs of air passing your lips. 

“I’m gonna come,” you murmur quietly, or at least you think it’s quiet since you can’t hear yourself or anything else. Joel’s strong fingers continue the delicious swirling patterns up and down the sides of your neck as you begin to shake. “Oh god - I’m so close!”

Just as you’re about to slam head first into another orgasm the vibrating stops and Joel’s fingers disappear from your skin. “No,” and this time you know it wasn’t a whisper or a whimper.

The mattress jostles and then you feel Joel behind you again. A hand comes to one of yours, coaxing it out of the fist you’ve apparently clenched before doing the same to the other. The vibrating starts stronger this time and both his hands come to yours, his thumbs massaging at your palms. It doesn’t take long this time before you’re right on that edge again.

“Fuck, Mister Miller. Puh-please don’t stop!” Your legs start the familiar shake that happens right when you’re about to tip over the edge and he doesn’t follow your wishes. The hand massage stops, quickly followed by the vibrator being switched off. You groan in frustration and he lays a quick, sharp spank over your legging clad right ass cheek. “Hnnng - sorry.”

You can’t be certain, but based on the warm puffs hitting your core you’re pretty sure he’s knelt down behind you. The vibrator comes to life again, stronger than the last two times and his hands work at massaging the muscles along the back of your thighs. This is torture; wonderful euphoric torture and as much as you want it end, you also don’t ever want him to stop making you feel this way. 

You let your eyes flutter open behind the blindfold, it’s still just as dark but you see that little pink sparkly box. The one that’s overflowing with emotion for Joel. You should push it back into the shadows or light it on fire, but instead you let it come out of the shadows completely. You see your hands reaching for the lid just as the white hot pleasure in your core gets close to the breaking point.

“Please please…Mister Miller - fuck!” You whimper and whine as it begins to burn hotter and then it’s gone and it feels like the air is being sucked forcefully out of your lungs. 

“Nonono, I can’t. Please, I need you..” Joel's large body is across your back in a second. The hard bulge in pants pressing against your ass and the memory of how good he felt and tasted in your mouth the last time has saliva pooling under your tongue. You swallow hard as one of the padded ear pieces is lifted from your ear.

Joel’s voice is deep and gruff as he says, “What do you need, my sweet girl?”

The little box of feelings vibrates at him calling you his and you kick it back into the shadows. “I need to come, Mister Miller.”

“That right? How bad?” He says teasingly before placing a feather light kiss on that sensitive spot right below your ear.

“So bad. Please, it hurts, Mister Miller.” You are pouting into the fluffy sheets, a completely whiny mess, and you realize that you’re always a mess for him. Be it a horny or depraved one, a whiny or a pouty one, he doesn’t care and if anything you think he likes it that way, likes you that way. “I want to hear you. I miss your dirty talk, please, baby!”

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I should spank you until you can’t sit tomorrow for calling me anything but Mister Miller. You know that, right?” 

“I can’t think straight. I’m sorry, just please. Please!”

He whips the headphones off of you and the vibrator hits at an intensity you have never felt before. Your pornographic scream fills the room. His large body above yours intensifies everything that was already killing you.

“That what you need, huh?”

You cry out and try to say yes but you’re sure it’s all just an incoherent mix of sounds at this point. 

“God damn, baby girl. You should see yourself right now. All tied up in knots that I made. The way your leggings hug the curves of your hips and soft, creamy thighs. You’re going to be the death of me one day.”

Tears start to flow behind your blindfold as the pleasure almost becomes too much, you haven’t come yet, and at this point you aren’t sure if you’ll survive it if you do. You have half a mind to ask Joel if an orgasm can physically split you in two because that is how you feel right now. 

“I’m - oh god - I’m…” You try to form the words but you can’t. 

One of Joel’s hands slips between his front and your tied up arms, his hand wrapping tightly around yours. His lips come to your ear as whispers. “I got you, sweet girl, just let go for me.”

“Need to see you,” you say between gasps of air and the pleasure begins to burn in your. 

Joel peels the blind fold off. You blink him into focus, his warm eyes searching your face. “Let go, you’re ok.”

As per usual, it’s his words that seem to be that final push and you let your orgasm consume you. It starts as a cold spark, a shiver up your spine and then heat flushes through every since cell in your body. You moan and writhe beneath Joel who whispers your praises like a prayer. Talking you through the intensity of the feeling. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you’re sure your panties, leggings and the rope are ruined.

“I can’t!” You gasp and Joel slows the vibration to help you ride out the decresendo of your orgasm. As the jolts of your body slow, he follows suit; the vibrator going to a dull blip and eventually nothing. Joel's thumb traces soothing patterns on the hand he’s still holding between your bodies. You take a deep and shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“Are you ok, angel?” he asks quietly and goosebumps somehow spread along your too hot body.

“Better than ok,” you say with a small smile.

Joel’s lips meet yours, soft and pliant and so full of passion. Your eyes shut as you part your lips for him and when your tongue strokes gently against his he lets out a small whimper that causes your pulse to leap. Mentally, you grab a bigger box, stuffing it with the realization that you’re falling for this man. But you will deal with that later, right now you just need to let yourself have something that is for, well… yourself.

Joel 

He breaks the kiss, even though he doesn’t want to. Even though he knows that by breaking this kiss it’s only going to mean you going home sooner.  “I need to get you out of these ropes and get some sugar into you.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence as his nimble fingers work to undo your restraints, then the intricate knots that bind your arms, and lastly the bodysuit. He really did think you looked stunning all tied up. He didn’t plan for this night to go the way it did, but when he saw the slight flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes glazed over he couldn’t resist giving you what he knew you needed. He stays close, one hand protectively on your hip as you crawl onto the bed. Once he has you seated, he pulls a fuzzy grey blanket out from a basket beside the night stand and then opens the small fridge to grab you an orange juice and water.

He cracks the top of the orange juice. “Drink this for me, please.”

He watches your eyes do a quick half roll but you don’t fight him, fingers just barely grazing his as you take the juice from him. “I had fun tonight,” you say between sips as he walks to grab the coconut oil. 

Joel stands beside you. “So did I, sweetheart. Arm, please.”

You take the orange juice in your left hand and give him your right. Both of you watch as he puts oil on the few pink marks the ropes left behind. “Do you think I should change my safeword?”

He lifts one eyebrow at you and as he tends to your other arm says, “Why do you ask that.”

“I don’t know. It’s just…well, originally that little dinosaur on your coffee maker seemed so out of place. It intrigued me. Your home is beautiful, but the parts you let people see don’t give away any hints about you, except for that little dinosaur. But now that I know the whole story, it just seems too special of an item to be tied to what we do.”

“I don’t think we need to change it. You’re right, that little stegosaurus is special to me.” He sits sideways on the bed, grabbing the empty orange juice container and handing you the water. His jaw flexes once before he continues, “But so are you. I love that you felt a connection to that part of me. Ultimately, it’s your safe word, sweet girl, so you can make it anything you want, but I think it’s perfect for us.”

The soft look in your eyes as he speaks is almost enough to kill him, and when your lips twitch up ever so slightly at his words he knows he’s done for. He shouldn’t fall for you, especially since he’s sure there’s no way you’d ever feel the same way, but he can’t not fall for you.

Your name passes his lips with a nervous tremble, because he knows that what he’s about to say next is going to be his undoing. If you say yes to this next thing, if he continues spending actual time with you, he’s done.

“Ya?” you say before sucking your bottom lip through your teeth.

“Friday night is the five year anniversary party for the club. It’s a black tie event for all the VIP guests. Would you like to accompany me?”

He watches as your eyes land on your lap, your lips pressing together as if to suppress a smile. When your gaze floats back up to his, your eyes give you away. Try as you might to hide your expressions with him; he'll always know when you’re happy based on the glitter of your eyes.

“I’d really like that, Mister Miller.”

His forehead meets yours. “This might be a Sweet Cheeks moment.”

Thank you soooo much for reading! Remember to follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for future chapters xo.

Next Chapter

[cxrsed-angel]

Once Bitten and Twice Shy

Jackson!Joel Miller x fem!Reader, 18+

summary: Joel is uninterested in holdiday festitvies until he reunites with a familiar face who loves to spread the holiday spirit. Alternatively, Joel the Grinch is reunited with his Martha May Whohiver.

wc: 4k

warnings: Jackson!Joel, unspecified big age gap, smut (unprotected piv sex), fingering, a bit angsty, (sad and lonely old man Joel) the timeline kinda doesn't make sense but its not that important so just ignore it.

a/n: Here's a holiday fic for my last fic of 2024 <3.

Joe hated this time of year. The twinkling of Christmas lights decorated on almost every home and roof in Jackson, lights decorated around light poles, bows around the light poles. The community hosts holiday events for the children, people putting up their homemade holiday decor, and the whole town covered in snow, making it look like a scene from a Christmas movie. It's a time that’s supposed to be joyful, cheerful, and merry, but it was never that for Joel. Not since ‘03, Christmas hasn't felt happy around this time of year. It was always filled with pain, regret, memories he couldn't seem to forget, and mourning the things he’d never experienced.

At first, Christmas and the holiday season, in general, were hard for him after he had lost Sarah. He couldn’t help but think about all the times he had gotten her letters to Santa she had written when she was 3 and 4 or when she was “subtly” hinting at something for Christmas when she got too old for Santa. Or the time she saved up money to buy him a cologne and a new tool belt with the help of Tommy.

After that day, the day he lost her, he ignored anything having to do with the holiday, and this time of year, which wasn't hard to do in QZ, there’s barely any holiday spirit or festive decor, but that was increasingly difficult until he met you. You had gotten paired together for a run because Tess was sick, and ever since then, you were something he couldn’t shake, and you grew closer. For the two and half years he knew you, you had made the Grinch’s heart grow three sizes. He’d never say it, but you'd had let him allow himself to enjoy this time of year.  

You always hung up whatever festive Christmas decorations and winter decor you could find all over your shitty FEDRA apartment. Joel tried too hard to fight it, but the more time he spent with you, the harder that was. He often joked you were one of Santa’s last remaining elves on earth. He spent two Christmases with you. He remembers helping you hang up whatever you couldn’t reach.

“Joel… can you help me hang this nail.. it won't go into this shitty door!… he sees you holding the red, green, and white wreath you had found somewhere, trying to mount it on the shitty, broken, falling apart apartment door. “well I think you need might wreath hanger sweetheart…” he sees confusion flash across your face but only momentarily,” I can't just hang it on a nail…” Joel sighs before taking the wreath and hanging it up. He pretends he doesn’t enjoy your holiday spirit like he doesn't get happy when he hears the records and CDs of whatever holiday music you could scrounge up, like he doesn’t look forward to seeing your festive apartment every time he visits you. 

But that was before. Now, he can't stand the music, the smell of holiday baking, and warm homemade candles. Ellie would joke and call him the Grinch or Scrouge, but that was when Ellie talked to him. Now, he’s lucky if Ellie glances in his direction. But he had no one now, and he could spend time with Tommy and Maria, but since the baby had arrived, it had been hard for him to see Tommy as a dad. Luckily, Tommy knows his brother and tends to give him things to work on to distract himself, especially after he and Elie drifted apart. 

Tommy comes into Joel’s workshop. He sees Joel working, an old Linda Ronstadt CD playing barely audible due to the sound of Joel's woodcutter. Tommy bangs on another table lightly, grabbing Joel’s attention. He stops the woodcutter, looking up at his brother. 

“If it’s about the broken window for Mrs Anderson, I'm working on it,” Joel mutters from behind the woodcutter, starting it again but stopping when Tommy speaks again. 

“No...no, it's not about the window. I need you to do me a favor. Can you show someone to her place? She just got here; it's house #40. I would, but Maria is doing some town stuff, and I gotta watch the baby.” 

Joel sighs, taking off his protective glasses and trading them for his regular black-framed corrective lenses. He moves away from his woodworking table, looking at his younger brother with an unsatisfied stare.

“Now?” Joel grumbles under his breath, obviously annoyed.

“Yes, Joel, now... please,” Tommy asks, begging. He knows that asking Joel to do anything he didn’t want to do after November was a challenge. But Tommy really didn’t have anyone else, and Joel happened to be the closest person to ask for help. 

Joel once again lets out a sigh, once again showing his reaction to being unconvinced. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but now, whenever he's near the front gates, near the most decorated parts of Jackson, it gets hard to breathe. He gets the aching feeling in his heart. He thinks of you more and more, and he wonders if he made a mistake. He starts getting up to follow Tommy out of his shed.

 “Wow got a lady waiting in the snow? Such a gentleman, Tommy.” His voice full of sarcasm as he looks at his brother. 

Tommy lets out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes at Joel’s sarcasm, choosing to ignore it. “After this, you can go back to your woodworking hole for the rest of the day, I promise. It's just one girl; she should be waiting by the front gate. It should take a few minutes. Just be nice and welcoming, and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the month.”

“Rest of the damn year,” Joel mutters under his breath, putting on his brown jacket, hat, and gloves, preparing to brace the snow and cold weather. “Gotta be a damn welcoming committee in fucking below 30-something-degree weather,” he mumbles as he walks out of the shed.

Tommy rolls his eyes yet again, hearing Joel's comment, before going in the opposite direction towards his house. As Joel walks down towards the entrance, he sees the decorations filled along Jackson's main road. His thoughts immediately go to you. 

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye. 

Joel tried his best not to fall for you. He couldn’t love you. Not just because he was afraid of losing you but because you were too young and didn't need his baggage. But that got harder the more time he spent with you, and it worsened around December. Your cheerful smile was contagious. Hope gave him something he hadn’t felt since before the outbreak. Hope. Hope for a future with you. Even if it was in the QZ, you made it look brighter and more positive than it was. It made him love you; if he loves you, it's only a matter of time before he fails you.

One way or another, he can't lose you. Losing Sarah still felt fresh and recent, not 20 years ago. He doesn’t know if he could handle losing you, too, especially because of him. But Joel knows he can't hope, not in this world. It's easier to push you away and make you hate him. When Joel felt these feelings, he did the one thing he knew how to do: create distance. He went from seeing you multiple times a day to maybe once a week. Barely talking to you, he stopped kissing your lips and touched you less, but you still found a way to be around him. You still held his hand, sleeping in the bed next to him. 

“This…ain’t working.” Joel sighs, looking down still. Your back is turned, trying to warm hot chocolate; you managed to persuade him to get on one of his smuggling runs, up on the shitty stove in the QZ. An Ella Fitzgerald Christmas album playing on a CD occasionally having to skip a song cause of its skipping. 

“It's a paper snowflake, Joel. What are you talking about? How hard can it be? If you don’t want to do it, you don’t.” You sound confused but are still focusing on the stove.

 Joel sighed again before looking up at your back. “I ain’t talking about the damn snowflake.” 

It's the tone of his voice that causes you to turn around, the sense of dread in his words, the way he seems almost scared to say them. You turn, looking at him, and he can't even look up to make eye contact.

 “Then what are you talking about, Joel.” 

Joel finally looked up at you, and you knew exactly what he meant wasn't working, "Us. This. Whatever this is, it ain't working.” He got up from the small round wooden dining table.

What do you mean this isn't working? It's been working fine for almost two years, Joel!” 

“Well, it's not working anymore.” 

You look at him before taking the attempt at hot chocolate off the stove, last thing you needed was a fire, but you go back to looking at him for any explanation or further clarification about why this wasn’t working out for him when it felt so right for you. But he never offered one. 

“I can't. It's not….working,” he says slowly, tired. Joel pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows this isn’t easy, but Joel cannot do this anymore. He can't let himself get attached to you. He convinced himself it would be easier in the long run.

He never said anything else. All he did was leave you in your apartment. Leaving you speechless and heartbroken. After that, Joel avoided you, or you were avoiding him, but each day, he saw you less and less until around the first week of January, when he noticed he hadn't seen you around at all. He asked around, even bribing FEDRA guards, and finally, one told him that you had escaped and left town with a group of a few other women. Joel had the realization that he’d probably never see you again. He knew you were strong and capable, especially if you had a group. He wasn't worried about you dying, but he had to kill you off in his brain to move on. Because if you weren't dead, then it gave him hope. 

Losing Sarah felt like strike one for him. The first time he felt his heart became cold and isolated, he lost the ability to smile, laugh, and even care. Until he met you at the QZ, it was hard not to smile around you. For the first time, he felt genuinely happy near you. He enjoyed your presence, the jokes you’d make about his age, and the warmth you brought back into his life. Then he ruined it and messed it up again like he failed Sarah. He failed you and lost it all again. Then Ellie brought it back with her jokes and outlook on life. Then again, he lost it. After that, he decided to give up and live the rest of his life in Jackson, mainly alone. 

Joel finally reached the front gate but didn't see anybody waiting. He looked around until he saw a figure in the barns, near the horses.

 “Tommy’s bright idea of leaving a girl out damn in the cold. Forcing me to be the goddamn welcoming committee, Jackson is small, but it ain't that small. Tommy could've found someone to do this…” He mutters to himself as he approaches the barn. 

Snow crunching under his boots causes you to jump at the sound, accidentally scaring you. He sees the girl turn around and instantly recognizes you before you remember him. He sees your eyes still shining, still young, still….hopeful. Not much has changed physically, but at the same time, he can tell something changed. 

Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?.”

It has been 3 years since you left the QZ since he had broken your heart and made his own even colder. He doesn't know what to say and realizes you don't even recognize him. His hair is longer and grayer now than it was. He has more wrinkles and glasses now. Probably put on more pounds now, having access to meals more consistently, not going on runs,  and having to walk miles every day. He can only imagine your thoughts on why this old man was looking at you in such a way, almost on the verge of tears. 

You reach a hand out to greet him and introduce yourself, hearing your name for the first time outside of his head in years, but he doesn't speak. He knew his voice would give away who he was, and he was scared of your reaction. He didn't know if you would be happy to be reunited or slap him because of the last time you spoke. He takes a deep breath before looking at your hand and then back at your face. Three years later, you didn't change much. You still looked just as beautiful to him as you did those years ago. 

“We…um... have met before.” He speaks slowly, knowing that once you hear his voice, you’ll recognize him. 

The second you hear his voice, you suddenly recognize the man in front of you, and shortly after, all the memories return. Memories of sleeping in Joel’s apartment in the QZ when you would get nightmares, memories of him teaching you how to properly shoot in the woods, memories of the first time you had kissed him. Memories of him ending whatever you two had back in the QZ. It all came back flooding your mind. You didn’t know what to say, react, or feel. You look at him for a bit, unsure what to say, so you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“Joel? You have….um, you have glasses... Now. .” Those were the only words that came out of your mouth, the only sentence your brain could make. He let out a small laugh, happy you didn't slap him and cuss him out. He reaches for the frames. “Yea. It got hard to read tiny fonts, so… found a pair of readers, and there's an old eye doctor here,” Joel says painfully awkwardly, unsure of what to say or do next. A part of him wants to pull you into his arms and apologize for being an idiot all those years ago. More than anything, he wants to kiss you and tell you that he loved you then and never really stopped. 

“Well, um, I can show you to your new place.” He walks you over to the smaller houses since it's just you. 

“So, how long have you been here.” You ask as the two of you continue to walk in the snow. “About not that long, El- um, I had a girl I had to look after, but she’s an adult now and doesn't need me anymore, but it's safe, so I decided to stay.” Joel walks down, noticing the holiday decor. He can't help but point it out. 

“Bet you’d fit right in here and come at the perfect time.” You nod, agreeing, taking in the town's scenery, the lights, the homemade decor, and the children’s drawings, and you smile a bit. 

“Wow, it’s really pretty, much nicer than the QZ. You must be like a Grinch up on top of the mountain around here, huh? " Your joke makes Joel feel at ease. He laughs, looking at you, feeling like no time has passed. He walks further, approaching his house, snow covering the roof, absent of any lights or holiday decorations that the other houses in Jackson have.  

“No, I…join in…occasionally.”  Joel replies very unconvincingly, which makes you laugh as he opens the door, letting you in. 

“Sure, I bet you join all the festivities, Joel.” He leads you into his house, which looks how you would imagine a middle-aged man living alone to look.  You stand a bit awkwardly in his living room, unsure what to do or say, and find it hard to believe Joel was in front of you after all these years. “But if you kissed me now, I know you’d fool me again.”

You don’t know who started it, who leaned in first, who kissed who first. It feels like both lips were drawn to each other like magnets. Joel places his hands around your lower back as you close your eyes. His kiss immediately feels like home, safe and warm. Joel pulls away softly. He looks at you, afraid, like he was dreaming. You look back at him, just unsure. You were half expecting him to say something similar to what he said all those years ago, that he couldn’t do this again, yet your lips clash against each other, messily and desperate for each other. Your hands came to his face, holding his greying beard and pulling him as close as possible. 

He lays you down on his bed, hovering over you, kissing down your neck, pulling your shirt over your head, temporarily removing his lips from yours to take off your shirt. You shift, taking off your old sports bra you’ve had since God knows when. Joel feels what you’re attempting to do. He pulls off it, over your head, before his lips return to yours again. Your hands reach, grabbing up to his brown and grey curls.

“Joel….” you moan on his lips. His hands travel up your chest grabbing, squeezing your boobs, making another moan slip. His hand runs down to your stomach, down to your clothed core, rubbing it slowly.

“Joel, I've missed you so much.” He looks down, nods, and softly raises his hand to your face. He looks at you, and you can still tell he’s hesitated, nervous, even scared. 

“I've missed you too, more than you could know.” He kisses you again, but you pull away, sitting up a bit. He takes off his jacket, tossing it somewhere. His green flannel is next. You start unbuttoning it, but you feel his hands on your wrist, stopping you. Your eyes meet his.

“What…” You look confused as to why he stopped you. He had taken your pants off and wanted to have sex, or so you thought. You look at him, waiting for him to say something, but he never does.

“What, Joel? do you not want to-?” Your eyebrows frown, anxious, worried you had read into something. You had misunderstood. But he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. 

“No, I do. I do. Believe me, I do. It's just been a while since we’ve…since you’ve seen me?” Joel tries to explain, but you still don’t see the problem.

“Okay, but we did have sex back at the QZ….many times, so.. I did see you shirtless. What's wrong?” You sit up fully in his bed. Joel sighs, moving off from on top of you and sitting beside you.

“Yeah, well, that was years ago…when I was probably a few pounds lighter, sweetheart.” You suddenly realize what’s wrong. 

You raise your eyebrows, confused. “Seriously, Joel… you really think I’d judge your body because you're actually getting hot meals daily?” Joel looks at you, and your hands go back to the buttons on his flannel. This time, he lets you. 

“I'm serious, Joel. I really don't give a shit…about any of that.” You reassure him as you push his flannel off his shoulders, seeing the white t-shirt underneath it. Your hands go to the bottom of the shirt. 

“I'm just glad I found you again, and you’re not injured or…” You take a deep breath, thinking about the worst-case scenario. You lift the bottom of his shirt, and he helps you remove it.

He nods as you take his shirt off and kiss his chest. “Just glad you're safe, Joel. I don’t really give a shit if you look a bit different.” 

He lays on his bed, pulling you down on top of him, kissing you, his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Glad you’re safe too, babygirl,” he speaks softly in between kisses, his voice is deep.

He reaches between your two bodies, unbuckling his belt and tossing it aside. Your hands goes to his jeans, unzipping them and tugging them off. Joel kicks the jeans off the bed. You feel his cock through his boxer shorts against you. You look down seeing the sizable bulge, you can’t remember if he’s always been this big, but he looks very big. Borderline massive, honestly. 

“Did your dick..grow, or is my memory just that bad?” you ask Joel. He laughs a bit, thinking you’re joking. But you’re not trying to rack your brain to remember if he’s always been this…thick.

 You hear him chuckle a bit. “Last I checked, it was the same, sweetheart.” you reach your hand on the waistband, slowly pulling his boxers down his thighs, watching his hard cock spring onto his stomach.  

Joel's larger hand reaches over yours, guiding it to his cock to jerk him off. You kiss his lips as you move your hand a bit faster. Joel moans against your lips before he moves away. Joel slowly tugs your underwear down your legs, and you kick them off, watching him grab the fabric off, tossing it with the gathering piles of clothes forming onto his bedroom floor.  Joel moves his hand off of his cock 

“Sweetheart, can I fuck you? Please, honey, I gotta be inside you.”

Joel slowly inserts his fingers inside you, feeling the wetness. His fingers curl up, fucking his fingers deep inside. Your head goes back against his pillow, feeling his finger's pleasure in ways yours haven't been able to, reaching places that you haven't been able to reach since you left. His fingers are larger and thicker than yours, making your eyes roll back. You moan out his name, missing the feeling of his name on your lips. You nod repeatedly. 

“ Please. Please. Joel. Please fuck me. I need you.” You moan, grabbing his arm as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside you. 

“Yea? Want me to fuck you.” His fingers slow down, and he presses his nose against your neck. You nod again, letting a moan slip out as he kisses down your neck. 

He moves his fingers, moving you closer and slowly pushing his thick cock inside of you. Slowly pushing the tip of his dick further inside.

You've slept with Joel numerous times in the QZ, he’s fucked you more than he can count, but this was different. You feel him slowly thrusting deeper inside you. Your nails dig into his back as you he fucks you, his cock reaching deeper inside you. This was passionate and slow. The making love you’ve read about. 

” Joel.. Joel. You feel so good.” you moan, feeling him fuck you deep and hard but still slow, like he was savoring, enjoying this moment.

“Missed you, baby. Missed you so fucking much thought I… 'd never see you again.” he looks at you watching your face frown, scrunching up in pleasure. Your eyes close, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. He doesn’t want to miss a moment, miss any more time of being with you, seeing you, touching you. It feels like no time has passed. He still knows your body like the back of his hand. Your moans fill the room. He’s memorized by you. he feels as if he closes his eyes, he’ll open them, and you’ll be gone, that this was a dream.

Your eyes flutter open, and you look up at Joel, pulling him closer. He looks down at you fucking deeper inside, and you feel the pleasure building up until you reach your release gripping onto his shoulders, your moans grow louder. 

“So close. Please, Joel, wanna come. Wanna come with you.” You whine, pleading with Joel as he fucks you deeper, nodding.

“Can tell you’re close, baby. Look so pretty like this full my cock.”

 He reaches between the two of you, rubbing your clit until you cum, moaning, crying out his name loudly. Joel is glad he didn't have any neighbors close enough to hear.

“Joel! Joel!” Fuck!” Joel watches are you come undone on his dick, the prettiest sight he’s ever seen. His thrusts speed up, not far behind you. Surprised he even lasted this long, considering he can't remember the last time he had fucked anything that wasn't his hand. “Where you want it darling,” he grunts between his moans. You barely register what he’s asking you properly fucked out. You whine at the overstimulating sensation of his cock fucking your sensitive hole. You open your eyes, looking up at him. 

“Inside…please, Joel want it inside me.” Joel uses every inch of his restraint to not come to the sound of your words, your begging. He shakes his head no. He had no intention of becoming a father of a newborn again in this lifetime, especially at this age. 

“You know I can't.” You whine, disappointed a bit, minds still a bit foggy from your orgasms. You look at Joel. 

“Don’t care, Joel.” He nods again, thrusting a few more times, moaning more before pulling out, cumming onto your stomach. He breathes heavily, looking at you, and he slowly moves from on top of you going to his bathroom. He grabs a towel, cleaning you off before joining you back in his bed. You instantly move closer, laying against his chest, and he puts an arm around you, kissing your lips once again. He looks at you for a bit before breaking the silence. 

“I love you.” The second he says those three words, you feel the air come out of your lungs. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond. You look at Joel, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. He was telling the truth. You look back at him, trying to start your brain back up. You smile, nodding, knowing how hard it must’ve been for him to say those words. God knows it’s probably been 20 years since, yet here he was saying it to you.

“I love you too, Joel. I always have. I have never stopped.” You look back at him. He softly kisses your lips.

“I think they’re having hot chocolate and cookies or something in the square, " Joel says nonchalantly, sounding uninterested. Looking at you, he pauses before continuing. Maybe even an old holiday movie or…something like that.”

You can't help but smile widely as he mentions the holiday activity going on in Jackson. Was Joel actually mentioning something holiday-related?

You look at him, still smiling. “If you want to ask me, old man, you gotta say it.” You tease. All he manages is an eye roll before sighing. 

“Would. You like to. get hot chocolate and watch an holiday movie sweetheart.” joel asks cracking a smile as his hands rubs your back softly. 

“I'll give it to someone special.” 

[arcanefox207]

The Wolf You Feed (6)

Joel Miller x Female Reader Part 6 (Ongoing) | Rated Explicit | 6.5k WC | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. (CHAPTER SPOILERS AHEAD) Some possible triggers including mentioning death of a child and contemplated suicide. Smut includes P in V, oral (female receiving). See series masterlist for general warnings.

A/N: Hang in there my loves, I'll ease your pain by the end of this chapter (with smut, of course) 🧡 Also my inbox is always open if you wanna talk about TWYF / ask questions! Or anything really. It really means the world 🧡

JOEL

“No, Tommy. I really did fuck it up.” He sighed into the phone. Defeated and sad. 

Joel had reached out to his brother when he was at his wits end. He didn’t recognize who he was becoming and needed to talk to someone before his anger just consumed him whole. 

He broke down and told Tommy everything about you. The one person he really could confide in, and once he opened his mouth he couldn’t stop. 

For the most part Tommy was trying to be understanding but also was caught off guard. Tess was practically family as far as he was concerned. He thought you might just be an indulgence for him. A shiny, new toy for him to play with. He didn’t really see you as a viable partner. Joel didn’t dare tell him how young you were, but Tommy seemed to pick that up on his own the way he talked about you.

“You can probably still work it out with Tess.” Tommy pushes.

“I aint interested in working out anything with her.” He snapped.   

“Ok. Ok, Joel.” He conceded his last attempt to bring things back to normal. He realized that Joel was a different person now. They were not close like they used to be, but he never realized just how much Joel was struggling. Lost. He needed someone on his side, not against him. 

“Look, man. Just give her space. Don’t be a hot head and scare her off.” Tommy tries to reason with him. Tommy always was the one who was more of a people person. His successful life with his wife Maria was something he embraced proudly. It changed him in a way that made him more responsible. 

As they grew older, it was strange how things were shifting. Joel was always the protective big brother, but now Tommy was  starting to fill that role with his grounded life experiences giving him more wisdom. 

“A real help you are.” Joel mutters and throws his phone onto the table and taps his fingers, agitated. Not exactly at Tommy, but he was letting his anguish escape however it needed to. He knew Tommy would understand that he was acting more like a wounded animal that was scared.  

He was finally acknowledging that after all his shitty behavior this is the hand he was dealt. He couldn't sweet talk you into forgiving him and he no longer had Tess on standby to console him. Tommy was trying to be supportive but he just didn’t know how.

When he tried to sleep all he could see was the hurt in your face. It didnt matter what he did or didn’t do because you were hurt and it was all his fault. 

He hurt you and he wouldn’t be able to change that. 

—

YOU

Days go by in silence and you’re not sure how to feel about it. Part of you wanted Joel to fight, but the other part was glad he obeyed. Respecting your demands to leave you alone. 

The nights were the worst. You almost gave in to calling him on several occasions. Even if he did wrong, something about him still called to you. A relentless need that you had no control over. 

You were nearing the two month mark living in Kineo, and Joel had been present in almost all of it. Your fresh start to independence unexpectedly had a co-pilot, and one that you weren’t ready to fly without.   

You kept it all to yourself. Marlene never brought it up and you put on a smile at work. It felt like you were just floating through the week with no real purpose or direction. You had paid little attention to anything beyond what was right in front of you. 

The snow was falling quickly, and in the last few hours of your Thursday shift nobody was out buying coffee. There was a major snowstorm that was just starting to ramp up. You had heard many customers fretting about it over the past few days, but didn’t give it much thought. Apparently it was a big deal and you should have been more prepared, but you would figure it out. 

Tess stopped by and your stomach was in knots. She looked numb and business focused, like this was also a distraction she was leaning on to get by. She scuffed the snow off her boots in the doorway and called out to you both. In too much of a hurry to go past the door. 

“Ladies, close up and go home. We’re closed tomorrow too.” She left after you both acknowledged and you were so grateful that it was a quick encounter. You weren't ready to face her just yet, and keeping a secret from her was taking its toll. It felt wrong, and it was slowly eating away at you. 

The ride home was treacherous and you could barely see out your windshield. This was the first real brutal winter storm you encountered since moving and regretted not preparing for it at all. As you got closer and closer to your house you noticed how dark it was. The ominous grey storm clouds blocking whatever little light was left for the day. The only lights you saw were the flashing orange on the upcoming plow truck. 

The house is icy and dark. You go to flick the switch just to confirm the power is out. You use the flashlight on your phone to stumble into the kitchen where you find a few candles to light. 

This was going to suck.

Headlights shine into the front window and you see a truck parked at the end of your driveway. 

Joel.

You answer the knock at the door. Your pulse beating with intrigue, as if your body finally settled on needing his presence more than not. 

You open the door halfway, wanting to be angry at him but finding yourself enamored with how the snow was sticking to his perfectly tousled hair. 

Of course he couldn’t give up the neighborly act and you wondered his true intentions. 

“Don’t mean to bother you, but the power is out and it’s gonna get real cold tonight.. over here.” He puts his hand on the door to push it open slightly wider as he steps forward. “I’d like you to stay at my place.”

His sincere eyes searched yours, looking for any sort of indication how you were feeling about his offer.  

“Won’t get in your way, I promise. Just helping out… a neighbor.” He hesitates on the last words. “And I promised your dad.” he admits sheepishly.

You roll your eyes at that. Your mom and dad were always getting into your business. You had ignored their calls all week so it wasn’t a surprise that they reached out to him.

His offer seemed genuine and you were getting concerned about how cold the house already was. Your candles and flashlights would only do so much.

“Ok.” You agree, giving little emotion. You didn’t want him to think you were conceding easily. You were just being practical. 

Truthfully, you could only suppress the way your body still ached for him for so long.

You feel that heat inside you try to ignite the smallest flame. The feeling that just wouldn’t die despite it all. A spark waiting dormant at any chance to catch. As much as you tried to ignore it, it was still there.

Joel looked relieved that you agreed to it. His protective nature was called into action and he didn’t want to have to force you to do anything. Even if you were icing him out, he still felt a duty to make sure you were safe. Of course, he hoped in time you would forgive him, but for now this was all that really mattered. 

“And I gotta bleed the pipes so they don’t freeze. Told your dad I’d take care of his place.” He pushes the door open even more as he steps forward, and you can smell the coldness radiate off his body along with the leathery scent from his jacket. The fleeting thought of wrapping your body around him and inhaling his scent was overpowering.  

His bullish advance felt intrusive but also non-negotiable as he snapped you out of your delulu. 

You step aside so he can come in. You just now notice his bag of tools and industrial flashlight. Contractors. 

It doesn't take him long and you keep your distance, sticking to your bedroom and packing a bag with the essentials. After a few minutes he knocks on the door to get your attention. You don’t open it, and let him speak to you through the door. Trying to establish that you still have boundaries and your bedroom is one of them.

“What?” you ask with a forced annoyance.

He pauses for a moment and then his husky voice seeps through the cracks.  

“I gotta plow a few houses before it gets much worse. Get your stuff together and let yourself in. The fire is stoked and the house is warm.”

You hear his footsteps as he walks away after waiting a moment. That spark inside burns hotter. A want. You missed him, and you needed him but you had to stay strong. 

Damnit, Joel Miller. He was making it so hard to stay mad at him. 

—

His home was so warm and inviting. The wood stove was so practical and cozy. You started to feel like a character in one of your books in some remote cabin in the woods. You had added a few logs to keep it burning. Joel had them neatly stacked nearby and it wasn’t too difficult to figure out. 

A few hours passed before Joel returned home. He entered the house with nothing but a polite nod to acknowledge you made it over safely and an approving glance at the freshly stoked fire. 

You had been reading in front of the wood stove, wrapped in a blanket. He kept his word and left you alone for the most part. He spent most of his time up in his loft after telling you he fixed up the bedroom for you to sleep in and implied that he would resign to the couch when he was ready to sleep. 

The comforting smell of the burning wood and the crackle the fire made was peaceful. There were a few lit candles giving the cabin an authentically rustic feel. Even if they were there to be practical, it felt romantic. 

For reasons you couldn’t explain, you felt a pang of disappointment in how much of a gentleman he was being to you. It made you feel guilty for being so cold towards him, and annoyed at how respectful he was being to your boundaries. He was doing exactly what you asked him to, and yet you were realizing it wasn’t what you expected. Pushing him away didn’t make you stop wanting him. It was just the safest way to protect your feelings. It was lonely.

The longer you sat in solitude, the more you reflected on what you really wanted. Still, you felt paralyzed to take that next step, riddled with guilt for Tess and a wavering disdain for Joel. You wanted your Joel back. The one that was rough around the edges. The one that made you come alive in ways you didn’t know were possible when he had you under his weight. The one that took what he wanted and left you fucked out and wanting more and more. Ruining future men forever.  

You could have him back, if you just forgave him, but that would also mean coming to terms with the aftermath of what happened. Talking about it. Making it real. 

—

JOEL

He kept to himself quietly in the upstairs loft, trying to keep himself calm. You were right there, content and safe, still not speaking to him beyond what was necessary. Having you so close and still so out of reach was eating him alive, but at least you were there. 

Not having electricity for a hot shower didn’t help his mood. He was able to freshen up with a washcloth, deodorant and change into a clean shirt. The heat rising from the wood stove made the loft extra toasty. The worn loveseat where he often strummed his guitar was welcoming to his tired body. It sucked in his weight and creaked in protest as he shifted to prop his legs up over the arm and lounge back. 

The day took a toll on him. An early start doing 10 hours worth of contractor work and then spending many more plowing and shoveling snow. He was tired and his muscles ached, but it was nothing in comparison to how heavy his heart felt. 

He swiped through the final photos you sent to him, as he did every night, admiring everything about them. Beyond the obvious, it was the look in your eyes. The happiness and longing for him that you once had. 

He felt his jeans tighten as he focused on your perfect breasts and your swollen clit, begging for his touch. Remembering how your body felt as if it was made to take him. He needed to be inside you again and then hold you forever and never let you go.  

You were too good for him. You deserved more than a washed up old man who couldn’t even be honest with you. 

And still, he needed you. Craved your body and your warmth that your smile radiated. Craved that innocence you had that he loved to corrupt. The way that you made him feel when you needed him. You were so smart and capable, but he saw how your eyes lit up when he did things for you. He made sure to be there for you before you ever asked. He wanted to take care of all your problems. Protect you and make sure you never wanted for anything. The way your body called to him. How right you made his world feel. Now that you were part of it, how could it be any other way?     

Honesty. It was all he had left to give if you would let him. 

Joel looked at a worn photo that he kept in his wallet. He had to make things right. He had to try.  

—

YOU

Joel had used the gas stovetop to heat up some canned soup and it was the first time he interrupted you, offering a bowl. 

After awkwardly navigating around each other in the kitchen, you thank him and resign to his bedroom, alone. You leave the door slightly open so the heat from the wood stove would warm the room. A double wick candle he thoughtfully left for you on the nightstand flickers the room in soft glow. 

Despite the warm balsam scent from the burning wax, the room smells overwhelmingly of Joel. Clean. Masculine. His woodsy cologne that never overpowered but always made itself known. The same blue comforter that you laid under before but a fresh pair of gray colored sheets. They were perfectly smooth. Unwrinkled and untouched since he placed them on the bed for you. It filled you with a sadness as you balled your hand into the sheets, mourning the beautiful memories.

God damnit, Joel. 

You were getting settled in, wrapped up in another blanket and reading your book by candle light when you heard a knock on the door frame.

You lock eyes with him. There is a heavy sadness in them. 

“Can we talk for a second?” 

It was his house after all. You felt you owed him at least a conversation. Even if it was that conversation. 

You close your book as you hesitantly swing your legs over the side of the bed. The door creaks open wider and he stands in the doorway with a hand on the knob, looking for permission to come in. The way his t-shirt was straining against the flex his biceps made you flutter. It wasn’t fair how attractive he was without even trying.

“I guess.” You concede and quickly bring your gaze to the floor. Afraid your body would betray you as your heartbeat quickened.  

Joel enters slowly and walks over to the edge of the bed, sitting a respectable distance away from you. Close enough to touch you, but not invading your space.  

“I uh, don’t know how to say it exactly.” he nervously starts. He was acting differently. Lacking that confidence he so expertly wielded. Vulnerable.     

He pulls out a worn and folded paper and opens it gently to reveal a little girl. She looked young. 11, maybe 12. 

He slides the photo into your hands as you study it, unsure what he was getting at.

“That's my baby girl, Sarah.” His voice is low but heavy with emotion. His hands clasped between his legs and thumbs fidgeting. 

“You have a daughter?” you ask, completely caught off guard. Nothing in Joel’s world left any clues to him having children or a family. You approach this new knowledge with trepidation, noting how old the photo was and wondering where she is now. “Shes beautiful.” 

You can see some similar features when you look closely, except that she was smiling big. Something Joel rarely did. 

He isn’t crying but you can see that glossy look over his eyes. This was a memory that hurt. Your chest tightens, picking up on his pained hesitancy to speak his next words. 

“She was twelve when… when she died.” he says as he takes the photo back into his hands with an unsteady grasp.

Oh my God. His revelation hurts to hear. He looks down to the floor, hunched over slightly with his hands gripping the edge of the bed on each side of him. 

You rest your hand on top of his and feel his skin go taunt over his knuckles as he balls his hand into a fist. Trying to keep his composure. 

“Tommy and I were there by her side. She was sick and the doctors didn’t know how to make her better.” He paused. “I… couldn’t save her.” His voice just above a whisper and you wonder if he meant to say it out loud, as if he had been harboring that guilt for years. 

“Joel I… I’m so sorry.” You wipe the tear that falls down your cheek. “I had no idea.” 

You sit in silence with him, letting the news wash over you both. Unsure what to do other than be at his side while he was lost in his painful memories. 

“S’been almost 20 years, but a day don’t go by I don’t think about her.” He folds the photo and puts it back into his pocket. His voice steadies and he takes a breath as if a huge weight was lifted off of him. 

You felt privileged that he was sharing this piece of his life with you. It was clearly not something he went around telling everyone. It put things into perspective, too. 

He was a dad. 

“Before you start wonderin’ it.” He looks at you knowing full well you are going to be thinking about his history sooner or later. “Raised her myself since her mother left us when she was barely a year old.” He hesitates to say more, like that part didn’t matter. “Sarah was my entire world.”

You feel at a loss with what to say. The more he opened up the more silent you were. He had experienced so much that you never knew about. A single dad. Losing a child. You settle with just closing your hand on his and moving closer to him. What could you possibly say? No, you needed to just listen. He was opening up in a way he never had before, and you suspected rarely would again. 

“M’ telling you this because there's more.” He pauses. “I tried to move on, but I couldn’t stay in Texas. Wasn’t home anymore without her there. Tommy and I went to Boston to start over. He had nothing tyin’ him to Texas either and we can be contractors anyplace. Thought it would help.” He skoffs at that, mimicking how naive he was. “It didn’t.”

You could feel the shift in the room. The feeling that he was about to share something else vulnerable. 

“I… I didn’t see the point in livin’ anymore.” he says with a blank stare, lost as if he was reliving that moment of hopelessness. Ashamed of his weakness. 

“You don’t have to-” you try to interrupt, not wanting him to feel he owes sharing this story with you when you can see how much it hurts him. Part of you is uncomfortable with the rawness of his past he was exposing. Not because it is hard to think about, but because it hurts to imagine him being so desperate and lost that it was his only option.    

He held his hand out towards you, fingers fanned wide, urging you to let him finish before he drops it back slowly to his side.

“Then I met Tess. The night I was going to... be done with it all.” He stumbles over his words, battling with the crudeness that he couldn’t stop from pouring out of his mouth. 

“Joel..” you plea. Not sure if you were strong enough, worthy enough, to hear all this. Until you realized he had to get this story out. Who knows how long he had kept it bottled up to himself.  

“She gave me a reason to keep going. Became my rock. The only person that understood that pain… because she lost her son too. Two people at the end of their rope.”

You never knew Tess had a son. It was so easy to see how two headstrong people could connect and bond over the shared traumatic experience of losing a child.  

“We helped each other… survive.” he sounds unsure about the word choice. “We moved here intending to live separate lives but we clung on to each other. It worked for a while, but we lost sight of where we started… and where we were going.”

He didn’t need to say any more. You knew exactly what he meant. Their entire relationship was built on empathy and survival. They became codependent on each other. 

“I’ll always be grateful for what she did for me. I owe her my life.” He nods, agreeing with his words that he was perhaps speaking out loud for the first time. 

“It doesn’t make anything that I did right. M’not telling you this for pity. Tess will always be someone I love, but we are not the same people we were back then. We were holding onto each other because we were too scared to be alone. Took me a long time to figure that out. Too damn long.”

You detect that annoyance returning to his voice. A resentment.  

“And Tess… she aint got there yet. Don’t think she ever will. And I can’t keep livin’ like that.”

It didn’t make his actions hurt you any less, but it gave you a new perspective. You didn’t know how deep their relationship went and you didn’t realize he felt an obligation to her that he was just starting to understand. 

“And I’ve been feeling this for a long time now, well before I met you. Just go’in along each day with no direction. Not givin’ a shit.”

He stops and looks you in the eyes, intense and deadly serious.

“Was you that made me realize I had been searching for this.” He flips his hand over and his fingers weave with yours. You can feel the desperation and the want in his touch as his thumb grazes over yours. His brow softens.

“Knew it when I first met you and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout you night after night. That I had to take back my life. That existing aint the same as living.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull yourself into his chest, breathe in his warm scent and want nothing more than to be in his arms again. Right or wrong you don’t care anymore. This is what you want. You want Joel.   

He wraps his arms around you and envelops you in his heat. You can feel his heartbeat singing into your ear with a heavy thud. Strong and resilient. His safe embrace silently apologizing for hurting you along the way. Promising you he wouldn’t ever hurt you again. 

His honesty made him less of a mystery now. His hardened exterior was built up over the years of living with this horrible hand he was dealt. Now that you knew the truth, you could finally start to make sense of everything.

Forgive him, even. At least try to. 

“I’m sorry.” he presses a kiss onto the top of your head and holds you. “I’m so sorry.” 

—

After holding you for a few moments Joel untangled from you and left you to your privacy, continuing his respectful act. Giving you time to process everything he said. Your mind was racing, analyzing everything. Calculating what happens next.

You knew if you crossed that line you would need to forgive him for what he did, and come to terms with sneaking around and indulging in a forbidden romance. At least, if you wanted to keep your job and the only other friendship you had going. Your parents could never find out either. They would never approve of you being with someone almost as old as them, let alone enable it any longer by allowing you to live in their home. You would have to cross that bridge later. This wasn’t about anyone else though. This was about you and Joel and what you wanted. 

Your next steps were heavy weighing your options, but also so very clear. No longer could you deny the way he made you feel and the way he made you ache for him when apart. He was remorseful for what he put you through. You could see it in his eyes. Hear it in his voice. Feel it in his touch.

Forgiving Joel would also solidify your relationship. It would be you and only you going forward. No more questionable lines of what you were and what you weren’t. 

You made your way out to the living room and saw Joel sitting near the wood stove, wearing reading glasses and a worn book opened in his lap. You didn’t take him for a man that would read for pleasure, but then again you can only do so much without electricity. He looked so peaceful with the glow of the fire illuminating him. A peace that only came with being so open. Everything between you felt lighter, like this was what needed to happen to get to this point.   

He looks up at you as you make your way over to stand in front of him. 

“Promise me.” you beg. “Promise me that you won’t hurt me...” You pause. “Ever again.” It was an absurd demand, but it was what you needed to hear from him. 

He takes off his glasses and closes his book, standing up to join you. His wide and towering body over yours made you feel so small in his shadow. Helpless against him but always safe with him. 

His greys caught the light of the fire, reminding you how much older he was and how much it turned you on. His well kept form only made him more and more attractive to you. Everything about him made you want him. An insatiable desire that you couldn’t deny any longer.  

“I promise, sweetheart,” he says as he sweeps your hair behind your ear and tenderly holds his palm against you. It makes you feel weak. 

“And… Tess?”

“Only you.” He says gently as he takes your hands in front of him. He repeats softer and pushes his forehead into yours as he leans over you, whispering “Only you.”

His hand comes up to cup your cheek and cranes your jawline upward to match your gaze. “I’m yours, if you’ll let me.”

Now you were a goner. 

His lips press into you and you melt into him. His tongue wastes no time to push inside and ravage your mouth. You give in to him, letting him consume you and relishing in his neediness to have you. 

His hands roam under your shirt, pulling it off hastily over your head. Your lips part only briefly. His roughness on your skin is welcomed as he thumbs at your waist band and urges you to step out of your lounge pants. 

You return the urgency, tugging at his shirt to make it disappear. His broad chest was a sight you would never tire of. Wide shoulders that could wrap you up effortlessly. 

Joel tore from your lips and trailed his mouth along your jawline. Nipping at the supple skin and gently biting at your neck as he removed your bra. He slid out of his jeans and boxers while he distracted you with his mouth.

You tip your head back as he goes lower, scruff scraping against your collarbone. Trailing lower and lower, dragging along your breasts. He took you into his mouth, letting his tongue dance lightly over your hardening nipples. Sucking with increasing ferocity until he released you with a wet pop and repeated the same on the other side.

He dropped to his knees with his hands firmly grappling your hips he pulled you in close to him. His hot breath tickled as he thumbed your panties down to expose your cunt.

“This is mine” he declared with a wicked grin as he slid your panties down your legs. His possessiveness couldn’t help but show itself and it was something that drove you wild. A pillar in your relationship that he was establishing and leaving no room to question. You were his.  

He wasted no time, nudging his nose into your clit as his tongue made quick work of your needy mess. Muffling his face into your heat with a hunger.

Your legs were unsteady but he had such a grip on you, holding you firmly against his face while he devoured you. His scruff getting damp while you started to drip for him. His rough patches sent shivers through your body as they grazed your softest skin while his lips and tongue pleasured you. He rubbed himself against you like a feral cat. Letting your wetness mark him. 

He couldn’t get enough of you. His muffled moans vibrated against you exquisitely as he tasted you and moaned in delight.  

Your hands found a home in his grey locks of hair, grabbing tightly with each flick of his tongue making you come more and more undone. He knew exactly how to touch you, drawing moans and gasps from your lips while he buried himself deeper. Pausing on the spots where you reacted the most with expert precision.

He started to take his time, relishing in your sweetness and giving you more and more with each tug against him. He was mindful of making it last as long as possible for you, practicing some restraint that he often ignored. This was about you. Apologizing with his tongue in a way that his words could never.

You tried to hold on as long as you could as your muscles weakened and your breathing shallowed. You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you. He lapped up your sweetness as you rode the wave. 

He gently guided you down to join him on the floor, leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your belly.   

You were gasping for breath as your heartbeat slowed. He leaned forward, pressing his lips into yours and plunging his tongue inside. You could taste yourself on him. He pulled away and gave a pleased smirk as his eyes narrowed over his nose. 

You sat back on your haunches  with your legs spread open. He eyed you up and down like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I don’t deserve you.” he says almost in disbelief. 

“I know.” you tease.

His cock looked painfully hard. You reach a hand towards him and wrap your fingers around his girth. He was so impossibly thick. His veiny shaft called to you like a siren song that twitched under your touch. 

He wrapped his fingers around yours, engulfing them as you pumped his cock together. Slow and intimate. The increasing tightness of his skin made you feel guilty for having come already when he was so on edge. You could feel how ready he was and how disciplined he was behaving. You were anxious to have him inside you again as you brushed your thumb over his slit and felt his wetness beading.  

“Turn over, sweetheart.” he reluctantly pulls your hand away from his throbbing heat. Your finger drags along the tip as he pulls it off and is wet with his precome. You bring your shiny fingertip to your mouth and lick it clean as you stare at him. The filthy display makes him groan through gritted teeth.

You then obeyed, maneuvering yourself so you were on all fours with your backside to the fire. Grateful for the fur throw rug that was soft on your hands and knees.  

He stifled a groan as he shuffled up behind you, sitting up on his knees. He reached around to your front and pressed his fingers to your opening, pleased to find you still wet and begging to be filled. He dipped just his finger tip inside to tease you, reminding you how thick his fingers were, and how much they paled in comparison to his cock. You pressed back against him and let out a needy moan as he plunged his middle finger in deeper. Your desire to have any part of him inside you was overwhelming.

He pulled all the way out and circled your clit with his wet fingertips, making you whimper. You were still sensitive and swollen from moments before.

“Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Promise.” his Texan accent came out thick.

He pressed his hips into you as he looked down your back, settling himself between your legs. His hands grabbed your hips and he lined up with your entrance, taking his time. Relishing in your shared bodies once again. His fingers kneaded you gently, holding tightly. Afraid if he let go he would lose you again. 

He slid a hand up your spine, pushing you down the closer he got to your shoulders, urging you to relax while he held you up at your hips. Your fingers curled into the fur carpet as his cock nudged you. 

Oh, how you missed it.

The wait was agonizing. Facing the window, the world looked so peaceful. A black mirror reflecting only the shimmer of the falling snow catching the light from the fire. It was quiet, calming and isolated. For this moment, all that mattered was you and him.

He split you open on his cock as he thrust in, slowly. You could feel his broad head catching on you as he pushed in and out. Working himself a little deeper with each push forward. It was agonizingly slow and you could only imagine how difficult it was for him to be patient. His raspy moans caught in throat with every thrust as your tight walls choked him. 

He was fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush with your body as he held you there for a moment. You were filled to the brim with him and it felt intoxicating to have him inside you. His entire length being strangled by your cunt. You could feel his neediness growing, and his desire to lose himself in you. His throbbing cock begging to come. 

He wanted more.  

He pulled your hips back as he pushed into you, stuffing as much of him inside as he could and being present with how tight you were. 

He was relishing in having you again. His right hand left marks as it clawed into you and you could feel his desperation build while left hand slapped onto your ass and firmly gripped you. He pulled you into him and held you still and he could feel your pussy clenching him, begging for friction. Swallowing him as deep as he could go.

“Joel… please.” you beg him to move with your delirious whines. 

Then he fucked you. Slow. Hard. Desperate to make it last. Controlling his urge to lose himself until you were moaning and begging for him. Every thrust into you an apology and a promise.

It didn’t take long. 

When he came you could feel his heat spilling inside you. Pumping you full of his devotion. You cried out as you rode the wave with him, taking in every drop of his spend as you writhed on his cock. 

You fell forward as he pulled out of you, gasping for air. He leaned over your body, his softening cock dragging against you as he leaned down to kiss your neck. Then he collapsed to the side of you.

He reached to the couch to grab a pillow and the blanket that was hung over the side. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but there was no place you wanted to be other than in his arms, engulfed by his heat and filled so much that cum was leaking out of you. Surrounded by the warmth of the fire and smelling sweat and pine. 

He pulled you tight against his body with his bicep curled under you to support your head. The length of his body pressed into your backside as he held you close, never wanting to let go. Never wanting to lose you again.

He kissed the top of your head again gently and used his free arm to rub your side soothingly as you both caught your breath. 

Joel caressed your sides up to your shoulder until you were fast asleep, stealing secret moments to press a kiss to your body or breathe you in. Holding you so tightly to his body that nobody would dare try to take you away from him. Possessive and determined to prove to you everyday how sorry he was and how important you were to him.

Tonight was something different. It was an intimate side of Joel you had not seen on this level before. You had no doubt that his rough dominance would return with a welcome vengeance, but tonight he was showing you a different part of him. Coming to terms that he was being vulnerable with you because he trusted you.

You faded in and out of sleep, each time comforted when you felt his heat against your body and his heartbeat thumping against your back. 

Despite what happened in the past, this moment felt right. Joel Miller had you hook, line and sinker.  

To be continued...

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

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[harbours-lighthouse]

INK-DIPPED AFTERNOONS

— PAIRING: Jason Todd x F!Reader

— SUMMARY: Spending the afternoon with Jason is rare, but it’s warm and gentle, and the books keep you company.

— AN: Something from my drafts; Jason in soft, mundane moments is my Achilles Heel, I fear.

cw: none, fluff wc: 740

THE AFTERNOON SUN spills across the living room floor, the winter chill settling in the frame of your apartment like the dust along your books. You loiter near the bookcase, hips shifting as you lean your cheek against the water bottle you grasp in one hand, your other hand pinching a book with your fingers at the bottom of the spine. Out of habit, you read the first few pages of any sort of book that catches your interest, and if it hooks you the most, then you promptly tuck into it as if you were settling in for a meal.

Slowly, as if dazed, you carefully move towards the couch where Jason lays, your eyes focused and flitting across the printed out words as a scene unfolds. You’re thoroughly pulled into the story, and you don’t want to tear yourself away from it. You hardly even notice Jason's eyes glancing you up and down, hidden amusement concealed in the slight creases around his mouth.

Hovering, not quite reaching your destination—as if the book were keeping you from moving far—Jason sighs softly to himself and reaches forward, his hands a heavy weight around your waist as he pulls you onto the couch beside him.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, but his voice carries that gentle sort of tone that mothers use when their child doesn’t listen very well, but remains entirely endearing. Briefly, you’re snapped back into focus, and you send him a small smile.

“Sorry.”

Jason doesn’t say anything else, but rather pulls you closer to him and lightly pries your water bottle from you, placing it on the table beside the couch. He’s warm beneath you, the fabric of his hoodie soft against your skin.

It’s a stark contrast to the usual leather jacket he wears, which is often cold to the touch—soothing in some situations, but mostly chilling. To you, it’s a great representation of who Jason is; a man who wears a cold front outwardly, but inwardly encases a heat that most people want to gravitate towards.

Lucky for you, Jason doesn’t isolate you from that heat he carries with him—the red warmth that vibrates from his personality like simmering waves on a desert’s horizon.

“What book did you choose?” Jason asks you softly, pressing his chin against your temple.

You smile, “An old one. The Apprentice by Tess Gerritsen.”

His nose creases in slight disdain, and you catch the movement in your peripheral vision. Laughing lightly, you tilt your head up to him.

“What?”

“That’s one of those sickening detective thrillers.”

“It’s apparently very good.”

“Yeah, apparently.”

Your head lulls as you roll your eyes fondly, the book in your hand limp against your chest. Jason takes your movement to his advantage and places featherlight kisses to the column of your neck.

“You’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover,” you murmur.

Jason gives you an unimpressed look, dark brows raised.

You pause. “Okay, maybe sometimes.”

His quiet huff through his nose holds a short chuckle and it rumbles against your back, and you’re reminded vaguely of laying on a purring cat’s belly.

“Do you want me to read it out-loud?” you offer, and for a moment, you see Jason’s head jerk softly in refusal, before he pauses and thinks for a moment. You’re somewhat surprised when he nods his head.

“Okay.” His voice is low as he settles farther back against the couch, cushioned by the dented throw-pillows.

Shifting inside the circle of his arms with your back flat against his chest, you skip through the book’s acknowledgements and dedication, and start at the first chapter. Jason’s hands remain clasped at your middle, thumb occasionally stroking against the fabric of your shirt.

Your voice is a gentle hum in the living room, bars of golden light shining through the blinds and slashing across the couch. The dishwasher rattles faintly from the kitchen, and the pipes in the walls rumble with the slosh of water as you read out-loud.

Best of all, Jason’s soft breaths flutter the hair at the crown of your head, and your body moves with each rise and fall of his chest. Warm and safe, you fall into the story with Jason behind you, as if he’s keeping you from falling too far—keeping you grounded in reality. A reality where Jason Todd is alive, holding you as if you’re made of silk and fragile memories.

Thank you for reading! God bless <3

top divider credit: @/saradika-graphics © harbours-lighthouse 2025 / i do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, or fed into ai. all works belong to me unless stated otherwise.

[bucketbueckers]

I'D RATHER PRETEND

extra 3: life “over and over the only truth, everything comes back to you”

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur @thelightknight21 @ellehoops

wc: 9.0k

notes: finally getting through the last of the irp extra requests 😮‍💨 yes i didn't make a new banner and no i didn't want to. this is def the last extra chap i'll do (this is the end for real...that's crazy) bc after a while i feel like im beating a dead horse. tess kennedy you will always be famous. thank you all for loving irp, i loved writing it but she must go on her own way now 😓 poorly proofread but as always lmk what you guys think 🫶

i. why does ‘TessKennedysControversiallyYoungGirlfriend’ want you to step on her and how do i tell her to get a job

APRIL 2025, POST NCAA CHAMPIONSHIP

If you were to ask Tess, she would probably say, no, I’m not a jealous person. In a materialistic sense, she doesn’t make a habit of looking at what other people have and deciding that her life has any less value because of what she may lack. She’s a wholehearted believer that she could get anything that she wants (barring that slight crash out from a year and a half ago when she thought she couldn’t have Paige…but that’s neither here nor there) and if she couldn’t immediately get it, then she knows she could work for it. Those are the two fundamental truths of her life.

However, in the sense of her and Paige, Tess still doesn’t think she’s jealous. They’ve been together long enough that Tess is comfortably secure in their relationship. She has no reason to not trust Paige, Paige has no reason to not trust her, they’re happy and committed to each other and all is well.

But the lack of jealousy doesn’t mean a lack of possessiveness. Maybe possessiveness isn’t even the right word. Tess doesn’t necessarily think that Paige belongs to her and feeling owned honestly gives her the ick, so she’s fortunate that Paige doesn’t really think that way, either. There’s a simple understanding that they’re girlfriends – that means something, and if Tess had to admit anything, it’s that she enjoys Paige’s undivided attention a lot more than she lets herself realize or more than she will ever tell Paige (although there’s a small part of her that’s sure Paige has her suspicions).

Which brings them to where they are now.

The bathroom door in their hotel room is cracked open, the sound of water hitting tile echoing as Paige showers before their date. Following UConn’s championship win, Tess and Paige were treating themselves to a vacation before the draft rolled around. They knew they would immediately be in training camps and moving across the country, so they just wanted to enjoy this last bit of uninterrupted time together before shit truly hit the fan and the only way they’d get to see each other is during games. That was honestly a hard pill to swallow – being apart for so long, but they had a long, thoughtful discussion about it, promising to communicate and be present and all of that other sentimental shit.

Tess frowns down at her phone, her eyes all but burning a hole through the device as she reads Maddy Siegrist’s comment on Paige’s latest Instagram dump. Honestly, it’s not even that bad, but what is Tess if not a crash out? It was simple, reading dallas is about to get a whole lot hotter. First of all, ew? Second of all, Tess feels like that should be illegal. It feels like draft tampering. She can’t argue why but it just does. And third of all, has she said ew yet? She knows it’s probably teammate banter, but if she said that to Raven, then Raven would probably kill her before she got the chance to kill herself.

“Paige!” she calls, sliding off the bed and into a pair of slippers to pad into the bathroom.

“Yeah?” Paige says, opening the textured glass door to poke her head out.

Tess keeps her gaze respectful, not allowing her eyes to trace the water droplets as they trail down Paige’s cheek and jaw, dropping onto her chest. She flips her phone around, showing the comment section to Paige. “Tell your thirsty ass teammate to stop trying to homewreck.”

“My who?” Paige echos, biting her lip to stop her laughter as her eyes scan the comment.

“Your thirsty ass teammate.”

The look Paige gives her is nothing short of wicked. “One, she’s not my teammate.”

“Not yet,” Tess huffs.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Two, she’s engaged.”

“You do understand that you knowing that is like, worse, right?”

“Three,” Paige emphasizes. “Look who just followed you.” Tess resists an eye roll as she navigates to her notifications, her eyes catching on the one reading cameronbrink22 has followed you! When Tess glances back up, Paige looks smug, raising a brow. “You got a thing for blondes or sum?”

“You are so annoying,” Tess admonishes.

“Tell your thirsty ass teammate to stop trying to homewreck.”

“Not teammates!”

“Yeah, just like you’re not jealous,” Paige retorts.

Tess gives up on restraining herself and rolls her eyes fully. “I am not jealous.”

Paige grins insufferably. “Whatever you say, ma. You gettin’ in?” she asks, referring to the shower. “Save water?”

Tess huffs again, already reaching for the hem of her shirt. “Don’t say it like that,” she states, but she can’t help the way she preens when she feels Paige’s gaze fixed on her.

“I didn’t say nothin’ any type of way,” Paige says. “Just tryna be environmentally conscious and all that, let my jealous girlfriend know I ain’t showerin’ with nobody else.”

Tess turns, narrowing her eyes at Paige. “I’m gonna put my shirt back on,” she threatens.

Paige’s bottom lip juts out in a dramatic pout. “Noooo,” she whines. “Please don’t.” She reaches for Tess’s wrist, water droplets splashing against the bathroom tile and Tess lets herself be dragged in. “C’mon. Let’s talk. I know I’m being annoying but you’re being kinda passive aggressive so now I know you’re not just fucking around.”

Tess sighs as Paige shuts the sliding glass door behind them. Paige guides her under the shower stream, her hands rubbing her shoulders as the warm water envelops them. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” she concedes, drawing a hum from her girlfriend as she reaches for the loofah and the bodywash, beginning to work on scrubbing her back. “I’m not like, actually jealous, you know? I’m secure in our relationship and we both know neither of us are going anywhere. So I don’t feel threatened, but it’s just – she,  and the rest of your teammates – are gonna get to see you on a constant basis for four years and I – I don’t know. You’re not even gone yet but I miss you already. I know it won’t be that different from college and we’ve made our peace with that, but I guess some part of me had hoped otherwise for so long and the realization that we’re actually going to play away from each other professionally is sinking in. It’s stupid –”

“Not stupid,” Paige interrupts, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the back of her neck. She places the loofah on the rack in the shower and wraps her arms around Tess’s waist, pressing their bodies together. It’s the casual intimacy like this that Tess will probably miss the most now that she’s had a taste of it. There’s no expectations right now, just her and Paige, and she sinks back into her hold gratefully. “It’s a big change for us, right? Even if we’re used to it, or whatever, it’s different ‘cause we’re like…locked in, you know? We’re not just girlfriends.” Paige huffs. “I’on even know if that makes sense.”

Tess shakes her head, her hands coming down to rest over Paige’s. “No, I know what you mean,” she agrees.

Paige squeezes her gently. “Point is, s’okay to be a little upset about it. Just don’t be scared of it. It’s not easy to…I’on know, think about right now, but once you’re actually livin’ it up in LA, playin’ with KP and Rickea and Cam, it’s not gonna feel as bad. This is your dream, baby,” Paige reminds her, kissing her cheek as she rocks them side to side. Tess can feel the smile Paige presses against her skin, one of her own growing despite herself. “Whether I’m right next to you, at UConn, or in Dallas, I’m blessed to even be part of your life. We’ll make it work. We always do.”

It’s then that Tess twists around in her arms, resting her hands upon Paige’s shoulders. Her thumb absentmindedly brushes across the slope of her collarbone but neither of them fully register it. “Are you…?”

“Upset?” Paige finishes. “Scared?” Tess nods, not trusting herself to speak. Paige’s expression melts into one of soft understanding. “‘Course I am,” she murmurs. The tension in Tess’s shoulder washes away under the shower stream, but she finds herself feeling guilty. Paige was also struggling with this change, and here she is comforting Tess about it. Paige seems to recognize the look on her face because she shakes her head. “I wish we could be closer, too. Like, if everything lined up perfectly and somehow we went to the same team. The league wouldn’t know what to do with us.” That makes Tess laugh, which makes Paige’s face brighten. “I just…gotta remind myself that it’s just different, not impossible. I promised you don’t gotta be scared with me. I meant that. And I know I don’t gotta be scared with you, either. So…it might be a little hard for a while, but we’ll settle in and we’ll be okay. It’s new and different but it’s exciting, right? Us, getting drafted? Me kicking your ass in the championship?”

“Okay, you ruined the mood,” Tess complains, extracting herself from Paige’s grip as the blonde laughs smugly. Despite her words, her tone lacks any real heat and she fights to keep the smile off of her lips.

“Hey,” Paige calls out to her, passing her the bottle of her shampoo. “Good?” The check-in is a gentle reminder that regardless of their conversation being softened by humor, Paige is still looking out for her, for her feelings.

Tess nods, wrapping Paige in a gentle hug as the blonde presses a kiss to her temple. “Good,” she confirms. “Thank you. For…” Her words falter, not because she doesn’t know what she’s thanking Paige for, but because she knows that there’s so many things that she could be thanking her for. 

Paige understands her all the same – she always has, which is just another thing on the long list of things that Tess finds herself thankful for. She smiles softly, her hand squeezing Tess’s hip. “I got you,” she promises, and Tess knows that’s the one thing she’ll always be certain of.

This brief period of peace doesn’t last for too long. They finish out the rest of their day, lounging around and enjoying their postseason vacation. They post a few TikToks together (which consist mostly of Paige roping her into thirst traps and funny couple’s challenges), DoorDash an unhealthy amount of snacks, and binge-watch movies until midnight when Tess falls asleep in the middle of a trashy rom-com.

Tess is in the middle of a strange dream – one wherein she and Paige are, for whatever reason, football players (although she supposes the recent football fixation is because Paige forced her to watch the Superbowl with her this year), when she’s gently shaken away. The voice in her ear is a soft murmur, pulling her out of sleep. The exhaustion makes her eyelids heavy but when they open fully, she sets her gaze on Paige. “You better have a good reason for waking me up this early,” Tess grumbles, pressing her face further into the space where Paige’s neck meets her shoulder, and she feels Paige’s body shake as she laughs.

“It’s 10am,” Paige says. “And I was bored. Tried waiting for you but you just kept on snoozing.”

“Paige Bueckers complaining about someone sleeping in,” Tess teases, mock-amazement filling her tone. “Someone pinch me.” Paige does, which makes Tess yelp and grab her hip. “Jackass,” she says. “Maddy Siegrist can have you. I don’t even care anymore.”

Paige’s eyes light up in remembrance. “A’ight, so I woke you up for a reason, actually,” she starts. Tess groans, but Paige’s hand traces the dimples on her back and that makes her forget all about her indignance. “So I was scrolling through TikTok. You remember that one we posted yesterday, the boogie on down trend?” Tess hums tiredly, the drag of Paige’s fingers lulling her back to sleep. “Never in a million years will you guess who commented on it.”

“Was it Sab?” Tess asks hopefully.

Paige huffs. “Worse.” Paige angles her phone to show her and at first, Tess is thankful that she had the foresight to at least turn her brightness down. “Why does ‘TessKennedysControversiallyYoungGirlfriend’ want you to step on her and how do I tell her to get a job?”

“Who?” Tess blinks once, lifting her head to look at Paige’s phone. True to her word, there was such a commenter, but what truly makes Tess giggle is the comment reading, ‘i want tess kennedy to step on me if only so she can scrape me off of her sneaker like day old gum.’ “Holy shit. That’s actually the craziest thing I’ve ever read.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” Paige cries. “We need to do something about this.”

Tess snorts. “Yeah, okay, let me just message my controversially young girlfriend and tell her my actual girlfriend is crashing out so she needs to stop commenting weird shit on our TikToks.”

“You laugh now but I’m serious,” Paige says, her tone leaving no room for argument. The pleading expression on her face tells Tess all she needs to know. She sighs again as Paige continues. “We need to post another TikTok.”

Tess gazes at her, amused. “Do you really think that will solve anything?”

“Prolly not,” Paige concedes. “But it’ll make me feel better. You don’t want me sad, do you?”

Tess narrows her eyes. “You are such a pain in my ass.”

“That’s not a no!”

Paige was correct. It was not a no. It became an okay, fine after Paige DoorDashed her a coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese for breakfast, and once she was finally awake and coherent, she let Paige guide her to her heart’s content. Tess was actually pretty familiar with whatever trend Paige was trying to get them to do, but she kept that to herself because Paige had seemed so proud of herself and Tess wasn’t trying to take that away from her. It was simple – Tess was going to apply a thick layer of her lipstick – her go-to shade when she’s not settling for her usual gloss – and she would kiss lipstick stains onto Paige’s face. The actual video would start with Tess swiping the lipstick onto her lips and “accidentally” smudging it, then Paige would reach out to try and clean it, only for the camera to pan over to her face, revealing all of the kiss marks.

If Tess was being completely honest, she wasn’t sure how this was going to deter anyone. She’s sure it’s more fanservice at this point than anything else, or maybe Paige just wanted an excuse to post something like that. Regardless, Tess knew her intentions weren’t as pure as they seemed, but truth be told, she didn’t really care.

“Are you ready?” Tess asks, endlessly amused as she watches Paige inspect her face in the mirror, a ridiculously proud expression on her face.

Paige hums. “Nah. You missed a spot,” she says innocently, motioning to her lips. Tess rolls her eyes, but she obliges, kissing Paige soundly and leaving a red smudge across her lips. Paige examines herself once more, tilting her head back and forth each way like she’s actually going to find an inch of skin that Tess hasn’t stained, but she eventually settles down. “Perfect. Now we can start.”

Tess chuckles and locks in. The TikTok counts down from three before Daniel Caesar and Kali Uchis’s Get You starts playing. Tess swipes the applicator across her lips – her hand falters, dragging the lipstick off course. Paige reaches in, her thumb finding her chin and wiping the lipstick away as Tess pans her phone over to Paige, showcasing her covered in lipstick stains and the sickeningly in love expression on her face. Despite herself, Tess can’t help but be a little shocked – from the slight blush on Paige’s cheeks, the dopey grin, and sheer amount of affection that is reflected in her eyes, and she finds herself melting, too. She knows that Paige loves her – she says as much everyday, shows her how much everyday, but seeing how much when Paige isn’t doing or saying anything is a good kind of different.

Tess stops the recording, watching it back with Paige once. They’d gotten it perfect on the first try and after a lot of deliberation, Tess captions the video with the lipstick stain emoji and posts it. Paige looks unbelievably smug as they watch the comments roll in, a large majority reading, “just fell to my knees in a Walmart parking lot” (whatever that means).

“You done being jealous of fangirls online?” Tess asks teasingly, to which Paige kisses her teeth and shoves her shoulder lightly. Tess hardly moves and all it does is make her more amused.

“Wasn’t jealous,” Paige states. “Just wanted you to do that trend with me and make it very clear that you’re off the market and you’re not stepping on anyone. Let alone your apparent ‘controversially young girlfriend.’”

“Don’t worry,” Tess croons, squeezing Paige’s hand. “You can be my controversially clingy girlfriend. Or my controversially annoying girlfriend. Or–”

“Chill!”

ii. how many golden state valkyries does it take to screw in a lightbulb (spoiler: a lot)

LATE APRIL 2029

When Azzi suggested a team bonding activity to welcome in the Valkyries’ newest free agency pick-ups and their single draft selection, Tess had a couple of ideas. Maybe they’d all gather in the gym for some friendly scrimmage. Maybe they’d gather at someone’s house to have dinner and play party games like they weren’t pushing thirty. Or maybe they’d even go out on some fancy teammate preseason vacation – in her fourth year with the Sparks, Tess and her teammates went to Greece. But this? Tess didn’t even consider it.

“An escape room?” she repeats.

“Hear me out!” Azzi exclaims, water bottle in hand. The Valkyries had just wrapped up their first training camp practice of the season and even though it was grueling, Tess couldn’t deny that she was incredibly excited to play basketball with this roster – Azzi had developed into a monster in her last year at UConn and her time with the Valkyries had only strengthened that. Tess herself had improved her game tremendously and she knew that between her, Azzi, and Paige, the Valkyries would be a force to be reckoned with. Logistics and basketball aside, Tess was over the moon to be able to play with Paige – her wife, which Tess still isn’t used to thinking about. Life in the Bay was amazing so far. “So, an escape room teaches you how to work together, right?”

“Sure,” Kiki agrees, stretching her legs out. A few more of their teammates hum, their gaze set on the shooting guard.

“But most importantly, working together in high pressure situations,” she states. “Like, have you ever been in an escape room with your friends and you’ve got less than five minutes on the clock and you’re not close to finishing and everyone is screaming and yelling?”

“I’ve never done an escape room at all,” Tess admits, and Azzi’s eyes nearly bug out of her head.

“What?” she cries in disbelief. “You’re twenty-seven and you’ve never done an escape room?”

Paige nudges Azzi, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips as she wraps her towel around her neck. “Not too much on her now,” her wife says. “She ain’t even have an Xbox until I first made her play Fortnite with me.”

That draws more disbelieving gasps from their teammates and Tess throws her hands in the air, exasperated. “This isn’t about me! Azzi, please tell us more about your wonderful idea. Or literally anything else so Paige stops talking.”

“You married her,” Ayoka reminds her.

Tess shrugs. “I didn’t have enough community service hours at South Carolina,” she says. “Cathy said I couldn’t get picked up out of free agency unless I gave back to the world. Hence me marrying Paige so she learns to behave.”

Paige rubs her temples, opening her mouth like she wants to argue, but Azzi groans. “Guys! My turn to talk.” Everyone goes quiet, sheepish looks on their faces. “Thank you. So, I think we should do an escape room. Teamwork in high pressure situations, learning how to work together even when you’re pissed, ‘cause let’s face it, we know Paige is gonna pass to Tess religiously–”

“I’m a 64% three point shooter,” Tess interrupts. “There are worse things that could happen.”

“–and because I think it would be fun,” she finishes. Azzi scans the team with hopeful, doe eyes, and Tess knows in her heart of hearts that it’s not possible to say no to Azzi Fudd. “All in favor?” Simultaneously, every hand in the huddle raises and Azzi grins proudly. “Perfect. We’ll go on Saturday.”

The rest of the week passes in a blur of practice, shopping for more home decor, and even more practice. Finally, Saturday rolls around and Tess and Paige load up in Paige’s Jeep to head out to the escape room facility. They’d paid a little (okay, a lot) extra to rent out the entire place, knowing that if the media knew where they were, they wouldn’t be granted a second of peace. Paige offered to drive a few of their teammates, although Ayoka and Kiki adamantly refused, claiming that Tess and Paige were in a perpetual honeymoon phase and they couldn’t sit in the back and watch them make heart eyes at each other.

Contrary to popular belief, Tess and Paige could keep it together, but whatever. Riding alone just meant they could sing along to the High School Musical soundtrack in peace without being mocked.

They arrive at the escape room facility and only have to wait around five minutes for everyone else to show up. Azzi leads the Valkyries into the building, signing them in and delegating teams. They’d decided to separate into two groups of six with Tess, Paige, Azzi, Ayoka, Kiki, and Kate in the first group and the rest of their bench in the second group. Tess is quiet, taking her new team in, and a slow smile grows on her lips before she can truly process it. Paige has her arm wrapped around her waist, almost absentminded in the touch – Paige always has to have a hand on her one way or the other; over the years, it just became something that Tess doesn’t think twice about – as she bickers with Azzi over something stupid like “This escape room is ‘get away from your kidnapper’ themed? Az, we have got to get those Ellen Mover books away from you!” to which Azzi responds with, “First of all, it’s Colleen Hoover. Second of all, I don’t read her books – you were the one who dared me to read one and it made me throw up. And third of all, she’s literally in jail. There are no more Colleen Hoover books.”

Moving her attention away from her wife and her best friend’s latest debate (there was just something in Paige’s genetic code that made her want to test everyone’s last nerve), Tess glances at Kate, who’s grinning excitedly at Ayoka and Temi as she shows them photos of her dog. Kiki and Janiah are in the middle of a long-winded argument about a USC/UCLA match-up from last month where, according to Janiah, “The refs were blind as fuck, Kiki!” and, according to Kiki, “Invest in some LASIK for you and your bum ass Bruins so y’all can see what winners look like.” That makes Janiah gasp in indignation, but both she and Kiki dissolve into cackling laughter that draws the attention of Madison, Kayla, Celeste, and Dorka. The six of them lapse into an entirely new argument about which of their colleges were better.

Tess tunes them out, her smile turning fond as her heart constricts with happiness. She’s pretty sure that the second group – Temi, Janiah, Madison, Kayla, Celeste, and Dorka – is going to be just as much chaos as the first group, but she gets the impression that they’re going to make it out in time.

Finally, the escape room operators return to let everyone know that the rooms are ready. Without further argument, the Valkyries separate, although Janiah glances back to taunt, “See y’all after we win!”

Tess and Paige share a glance. Then they look at Azzi, then Ayoka and Kiki, and then Kate, and they don’t need to say anything else to know they’re going to make Janiah and her team eat shit.

The six of them are led into a dim room, locking hands to make sure none of them trip or stumble, although someone — Paige — seems to bump into the wall as evidenced by a high-pitched “Ow!” that causes Tess to snicker. The operator sits them down and adjusts the bindings on their wrists and ankles. They’re loose enough that they could easily slip out of them, but where’s the fun in that? The door closes without another word and the Valkyries sit in silence until the overhead speaker crackles to life. 

The operator’s voice is affected by a voice modulator, sounding distorted and mischievous as they explain the set up. You’ve been kidnapped! Luckily for you, your assailant is away for an hour to collect supplies. You and your party must work to escape before he returns. Pretty standard stuff. Per the operator’s instruction, one person’s bindings weren’t fully locked, so it’s their responsibility to figure out who it was, and then they must locate the master key that’s hanging on the wall by the door. 

“Okay,” Azzi says calmly. “Who’s not locked up?”

Tess stretches out her wrists and her ankles to no avail. “Not me,” she states, followed by agreements from Paige, Kiki, and Ayoka. Tess hears the click of someone’s bindings before their victorious cheer. 

“Don’t worry, guys,” Kate says proudly. “I got this.”

“Our hero,” Kiki mutters dryly as Kate begins feeling around the room in search of the key. 

Tess eyes the clock in the corner of the room. 59 minutes left. “No rush, Money,” she says nonchalantly. “There’s not a kidnapper on his way back or anything.”

“Paige, get your wife,” Kate gripes. 

“I said no rush!”

“Feels like you’re rushing me,” she says, her tone clearly teasing, and Tess grins despite herself. Kate makes another noise in celebration once she’s finally found the key. “Okay, I’m gonna unlock Azzi first, give her the key, then I’m gonna try to find our next clue.” After Azzi is free, she makes her way around the room to unlock everyone else as Kate begins her search.

Soon, they’re all free, and Kate has narrowed down their next step. To open up their next clue box, they have to replace the flickering lightbulb in the room. Removing the old bulb requires them to solve a puzzle, so Kate directs their group to split. Kate, Azzi, and Paige work on solving the puzzle to unscrew the lightbulb while Ayoka, Kiki, and Tess work on solving the puzzle to get the new bulb.

Evidently, this task is incredibly difficult. Paige curses under her breath as she reads the instructions again, adjusting the number sequence and pulling. The lock doesn’t budge. Meanwhile, the clue to unlock Tess’s puzzle is written entirely in a cryptogram – albeit, a really simple one, but the six of them are operating on one shared brain cell (which Azzi probably has) – and Ayoka and Kiki can’t seem to figure it out.

It’s then that the operator phones back in to offer some advice. “How many Golden State Valkyries does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” the operator asks, their voice deep and teasing, and all it does is cause the room to let out simultaneous groans. “Time’s ticking, Valkyries. Perhaps you should consider how…connected, these clues are.” The room goes silent again and instantly, Tess knows what to do. Cryptogram in hand, she spins around and meets Paige, who is on the same wavelength. They pore over both of their clues until Tess keys in on the strange spacing between the letters of Paige’s clue and the symbols on her cryptogram. Placing the papers over each other, Tess and Paige cheer when the cryptogram symbols line up with several letters. It gives them enough to work with and Tess inputs the answer. To everyone’s relief, the lock gives and Tess produces a lightbulb and another clue from the chest.

The new clue lines up perfectly with Paige’s initial clue and she puts in her new sequence, too. Her lock opens up and she extracts the lightbulb, swapping it out with Tess’s, screwing it back in, and locks it into place. Finally, the light in the room returns fully and the Valkyries cheer now that they can see better. Paige raises her hands in a high five, bumping chests with her wife, and nobody in the room can truly keep the grins off of their faces.

From then on, the six of them work like a well-oiled machine. There’s no true “leader” as everyone showcases their strengths on different puzzles. The clock in the corner of the room serves as motivating pressure, but they don’t let it get to them, staying focused and working together quickly. 

With five minutes left on the clock, they’re struggling through the last puzzle together, searching for the final key to unlock the remaining door to escape. It’s Paige who clutches up with less than thirty seconds remaining, finally solving the puzzle and securing the key. Ayoka, Kiki, Tess, Azzi, and Kate all cheer as Paige fumbles with the key, sticking it in the lock and twisting. The door opens with a click! and the six of them rush out, high fiving each other with huge grins on their faces.

The operator meets them at the exit, grinning and congratulating them, but the sweetest reward of all is the maniacal laughter coming from within the room across the hall from them, followed by screaming. The six of them share a glance and within moments, the other half of their team exits their escape room, defeated looks on their faces, but no one is truly upset. Temi claps them all on the back, expressing her pride and the sentiment that “you don’t win them all,” and Tess softens a little bit.

Tess locks eyes with Janiah, who smirks at her. “Don’t wanna hear it,” she says, drawing laughter from the shooting guard as she raises her hands in surrender. “I ate my words – that’s okay.”

They gather for pictures, posing with weird props, and Paige rests her arm on Tess’s shoulder as if she’s more than two inches taller than her. Tess rolls her eyes, but grins when Paige presses a cheeky kiss to her temple, her lips curling into a faux snarl as she holds up a prop knife. Tess knows better than anyone else that these photos are going to cause the Internet to explode once the Valkyries media team posts them, but she can’t find it within herself to care, especially not when Paige pulls her a little tighter into her side.

The ensuing argument about where they should get lunch eclipses any argument or disagreement they had while they were in the escape room, but they eventually settle on a steakhouse not too far away. Everyone loads up, driving away without a second glance, but Paige hesitates for a moment in her Jeep.

“Everything okay?” Tess asks her, concerned as she places her hand over her wrist.

“Yeah,” Paige says softly, her shoulders relaxed. Tess knows instantly that it’s the truth. “I just…I’m really happy. I’m here with you. I love our teammates. Everything’s perfect.”

“It is,” Tess agrees, which makes Paige squeeze her hand gently. It’s a little strange to think back on everything they had to do to get here. The whole fake dating thing – to go from that to being married for real is hilarious in retrospect, but Tess wouldn’t change anything about them – the hundreds of miles apart during their rookie contracts, the countless hours of work and commitment and honesty. All of that has led Tess to where she is now – married, playing professional basketball with her best friend, and living the kind of life she used to always dream about.

iii. bueckers-kennedy to bueckers-kennedy for three, good if it goes…

OCTOBER 2029

Tip-off wasn’t for another ten minutes, but the Chase Center was already roaring. The cheering from both sides of the arena was almost suppressive, half of the stands donning the Valkyries white and purple and the other half clashing with the Indiana Fever red. Both the Valkyries and the Fever were equally matched – after DeWanna Bonner and Natasha Howard’s departures/retirements, the Fever scouted for young talent just as the Valkyries had. A couple of free agent steals added to their already stacked roster, but Tess knew that she was leaving this arena with another ring on her finger tonight, even if the Fever made her work for it.

To be honest, Tess didn’t really plan to go to the finals in her first year as a Valkyrie. Playoffs, sure, but the league was stacked. The Valkyries, however, rose to the challenge. They dominated the league with a staggering 39-5 record. Their starters were deadly and their bench was full of energy and experience. It took weeks of practice, drills, and film to get here, but Tess knew that her team was willing to do what it takes to shut down the Fever tonight.

Tess makes her final rounds to her teammates, offering words of encouragement. She’d truly grown into her own leadership role on this team, too, providing excellent veteran experience. She knew how to push the right buttons to get her team going, a trait she’d picked up from five years with Coach Staley, who was in the crowd tonight. She was actually courtside next to Geno. Knowing the both of them, they’d probably spend the entire game roasting their respective players. Smiling at that thought, Tess finally makes her way over to her wife, who is working on her handles and sinking the ball in from the midrange. Paige grins when she sees her, pulling an airpod out of her ear and joining Tess for their silly, pregame handshake with several steps.

“You ready for this?” Tess asks teasingly.

Paige kisses her teeth, waving her off. “‘Course I am,” she states confidently. “Just make sure you land your shots, a’ight? Azzi already thinks 75% of my passes go to you.”

Tess snorts. “That’s because they do, babe. And because I do land my shots, thank you very much. 67% three point shooter, remember?”

Paige smirks. “You tryna flirt with me before our big game?”

“Oh, are you turned on by numbers now?”

“Just the ones that show my girl’s the best shooter in the nation.” Tess rolls her eyes, unable to stop the blush from lighting up her cheeks. “You ready?” Paige’s voice softens.

“Yeah,” she confirms, no hesitation. “We’re unstoppable. We’ve got Azzi. Ayoka. Kiki. Kate. Madison–” Paige clears her throat, raising a pointed brow. “Oh, right. Saniya, Kayla, Celeste–”

“Heard,” Paige mutters. “I’m only passing to Azzi tonight.”

Tess laughs, her eyes shining. She squeezes Paige’s hand quickly, not wanting to do too much in front of the cameras that she knows are undoubtedly trained on them. “And the best point guard in the country,” she finishes in a murmur. Despite herself, Paige’s lips quirk into a smile, a little bashful. “What do you say about winning our first chip together tonight?”

“I’d say you’re running out of fingers to put your rings on,” Paige jokes.

“Well,” Tess hums, raising both of her hands and examining her ring fingers. Her engagement ring and wedding bands are both absent – because playing with jewelry was hazardous and Tess would lose her mind if her rings ever got damaged – but she smiles at the sight of the dual tattoos on both of her ring fingers. During the All-Star break, she and Paige had finally mustered enough courage to get matching ring tattoos so they could show it off, knowing that they couldn’t wear their rings as much as they’d like to due to their professions. “At least I always have the important ones.”

Paige’s smile turns impossibly tender. Seeming to forget about the cameras, she lets the ball fall to the ground, stopping it from rolling away with her foot, and takes both of Tess’s hands in her. Delicately, she presses her lips to both of Tess’s ring fingers, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. “I love you,” she whispers. “You and me?”

“You and me,” Tess agrees, smiling widely. “I love you, too.”

The time passes quickly and finally, the ball is tipped. Ayoka just barely beats Aliyah, awarding the Valkyries the first possession of the game, and Kiki passes the ball to Paige with haste as she begins directing traffic to her liking. The offense rotates seamlessly until a hole in the passing lane opens up and Paige sails it swiftly to Ayoka, who lays the ball in with ease.

The Fever open up their possession with a signature Caitlin Clark three. Paige, Tess, and Azzi share a glance as the ball falls through the net cleanly. If that’s the pace they want to play at, then the Valkyries are happy to oblige.

The first quarter passes in a series of back and forth buckets, crucial defensive stops, blocks and steals, and Tess ends it off with a clean eight points. Azzi trails her with six, then Paige with five (although she’s racked up five assists of her own), and Ayoka and Kiki combine for another eight points in the paint. The Valkyries hold a slim three point lead over the Fever, 27-24, but going into the second half, they’re unwilling to let that lead go.

And they don’t. The Valkyries double down on their defensive pressure, holding the Fever scoreless for the first four minutes. Kate, Saniya, and Madison provide great minutes for the Valkyries as they log a combined 14 points. Paige and Tess sit for the last three minutes of the half. They head into the locker room 53-48, where Natalie emphasizes the need for stops. The Fever were a very powerful team offensively – if they were able to shut them down there, then their defense would falter, too.

Although the Valkyries come back stronger in the second half, the Fever do, too. Caitlin opens the third quarter with two back to back threes that put the Fever in the lead by 1. One possession later, when they’re all in the huddle after Kiki was fouled by Aliyah in the paint, Paige reminds them to get their head in the game, to refocus. Caitlin was starting to take the game into her hands, which means she was passing less and shooting more. Applying pressure on Caitlin would get the ball moving, and since the rest of her team wasn’t as hot yet, applying pressure on them would stagnate their offense.

The rest of the third quarter passes quickly. The Valkyries are able to hold Caitlin out, but the rest of the Fever start warming up. Lexi Hull is explosive from the wings, adding to Aliyah’s paint dominance, and by the time the quarter ends, they’re tied 71-71.

This was their final game of the season. Win or go home. They’d played six games against the Fever already with the series tied at 3-3. The Valkyries need to put an end to this game, now. The final quarter was a defensive battle through and through. Tess comes down with two critical steals which allow for two, quick transition scores from Paige and Azzi respectively. Kiki and Ayoka own the paint, sending three different lay-up attempts flying into the fifth row of the stands. And Tess? She’s hot from three, sinking two back to back shots in seamlessly and forcing an early Fever timeout.

With three minutes left in the game, they’re still tied 82-82. They’d played a clean quarter and had a couple fouls to give, so the final minutes of the game were a test of clean clock management or getting the ball to their sharpshooters to hopefully make the deficit too large to come back from. After the timeout, the Fever have possession, and the game starts back up again.

The last minutes are tense, a mix of shots and bricks and running down the clock to try to get a hold of the last possession. The game is still tied 87-87 and with twenty-five seconds left on the clock, it appears as though the Fever are letting the time run down before they try for a final shot. Tess is on Caitlin like glue, the look in her eyes reminiscent of the second Final Four they’d ever played against each other in college. Tess has spent enough time playing against her and watching her play to read her tells perfectly. So when Caitlin steps back, gearing up for a deep three to either send the game into overtime or send the Fever home with a championship win, Tess jumps with all the power she can muster, the muscles in her body rippling as she extends her fingers as far as they could go.

The ball scrapes against her fingertips, sending it off-course and directly into Paige’s waiting hands. Tess and Paige are speeding off in tandem without another thought, but the Fever are quickly back on defense. With five seconds remaining, Tess makes a break to weave around Caitlin, acting as though she’s driving to the bucket, although she plants her feet and steps back, watching as Caitlin slides harmlessly across the court. She angles her body to receive the incoming pass from Paige and without a second thought, she pulls up to shoot the three.

Over the pounding of her heart, the roar of the crowd, and the commentator’s cry of, “Bueckers-Kennedy to Bueckers-Kennedy, good if it goes…”

The buzzer rings, echoing in the arena, but the swish of the net is all Tess truly registers.

“It’s good! The Golden State Valkyries are your 2029 WNBA Champions!”

Tess is immediately swarmed by her teammates, their laughter and cries and cheers like music to her ears. She feels the tears spring to her eyes as she wraps her arms around whoever, she doesn’t know, but she holds onto them as tightly as she possibly can. The one thing she does know like the back of her hand, however, is the looping arm around her waist, the warmth of the palm against her stomach, and Tess turns in their group hug to throw her arms around Paige’s neck. Her wife’s hold on her tightens as they share elated giggles. Tess can feel Paige’s tears as they soak into the fabric of her jersey, and this feeling right here – winning a championship and having your wife be the first person you see after sinking the game winner? There’s no better feeling in the world. Paige lifts her clean off the ground, the rest of the arena fading into nothing behind them, and the one thing Tess is certain of is that she and Paige have plenty more wins in front of them.

Tess lifts her head, scanning the crowd, the sea of white and purple jerseys that are here for her, for her team, at her home in the Bay. She watches as Azzi pulls Kate into a bone-crushing hug – they were truly a dynamic duo; Kate, becoming the face of the organization after the expansion draft and Azzi being the organization's first drafted Rookie of the Year. The both of them had truly put so much into this team and Tess can’t help the fresh wave of tears that pools in her eyes. Temi and Kiki pull Natalie onto the court to celebrate with her, too, because why wouldn’t they? Natalie is the fucking coach of the year and she’d just guided her team to a championship win in her fifth year as head coach.

Her feet touch the ground again, dragging her out of her thoughts, and Tess all but beams as she glances up at Paige, her hands resting atop her shoulders once more. “What I say, huh?” Paige jeers, a wide grin on her face. “Game winning three? You’re like that, baby?”

“Game winning assist?” Tess echoes, tangling her fingers in the fabric of Paige’s jersey. “We’re like that?”

Paige’s nose brushes hers, her teeth bared in excitement, although the look in her eyes is impossibly soft, reserved just for her. The kiss that Paige plants on Tess’s lips, in front of the crowds and the cameras and the eyes, softens the heat and the thrill of the moment, and Tess can’t help but sink into Paige’s embrace. They’d done it. They’d really done it. She almost can’t wrap her mind around it, but Paige is firm, tangible, here, and it’s all the proof that Tess needs to know that this wasn’t just a dream.

When Paige pulls away, her smile is tender. “Same time next year?” she murmurs, and all Tess can really do is pull her back in, whispering the same promise against her lips.

iv. no, sweetie, mamma does not have more championship wins than mommy, she’s lying to you

SOMETIME IN 2044

“And so that’s how you and Mamma fell in love? Like for real?”

Carter’s voice is childlike, full of wonder as she stares at both of her mothers in awe. At five years old, she’s the oldest of Tess and Paige’s two children. Their youngest child, another daughter named Alessia, is only a year younger than her sister, but Carter holds onto that year like it’s the most important thing in her life. To be honest, Carter probably gets that from Tess, which is something that Paige teases the both of them for on the daily. Both of their children are laid in their beds, having demanded a bedtime story like the hours they spent running around all day didn’t tire them out.

“For real,” Paige agrees, wide-eyed herself, and even after fifteen years married, nearly twenty together, her antics still make Tess smile like they’re lovesick twenty-somethings.

Both of them had retired in 2039 after ten successful years with the Valkyries. After their first championship win, they added on four more, which would probably be enough to secure their spots in the Hall of Fame. They’d long since retired their jerseys – both at the collegiate level and for the Valkyries. Numbers 5 and 25 would never be worn again, although at the rate Carter and Alessia are progressing, Tess and Paige think that they might have to make an exception for the next generation of Bueckers-Kennedys to carry on the torch. Carter and Alessia, fortunately, aren’t at the age where they want to argue about who gets which mother’s jersey number, but Tess knows that day is coming sooner rather than later. Following retirement, Natalie brought them on as assistant coaches, although Natalie herself retired a few years later. Tess and Paige were going into the 2044 season with Paige as the official head coach of the Valkyries and Tess as the associate head coach. Tess was content to let Paige have it, knowing the sheer amount of paperwork that came with being the head coach, although that was for naught as Paige tends to drag her into head coach conversations, anyways.

At first, Tess and Paige had wanted to adopt, but after looking at the IVF options, Tess quickly found the appeal in carrying. Paige was a hard no, which Tess wasn’t really bothered by, but pregnancy was a discussion that took a long time before they ever truly reached a consensus. It wasn’t that they were in disagreement on a lot of things. It was more so the fact that pregnancy was huge, even for them, and they wanted to give themselves enough time to fully consider the ins and outs of it and the extensive process that was IVF. Ultimately, Tess ended up carrying both Carter and Alessia, and that was that.

“And then you had me and Carter,” Alessia states matter-of-factly.

“I came first,” Carter points out proudly, puffing her chest out, and Tess and Paige share an amused glance. 

“Yes, you did,” Tess agrees, brushing her fingers through Carter’s hair, her heart swelling when a toothy smile lights up her daughter’s features. 

“Why couldn’t I have been born first?” Alessia complains. 

“‘Cause you’d be named Carter,” Paige retorts, which makes Carter gasp and Alessia nod as if it makes a ton of sense.

“I like being Alessia,” their youngest daughter says, yawning when Paige adjusts her comforter, tucking her in and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Wait,” Carter says, a confused expression on her face as she sticks up her fingers to count. “So Mamma has one…two…champ-ships in college. Mommy has one.”

Paige’s eye twitches and Tess fights the urge to laugh. “Championships,” Tess enunciates slowly, smiling when Carter tests the syllables out on her tongue and strings the word together. “But yes, honey, Mamma had two championships in college and Mommy had one.”

“Then Mamma beat Mommy in the other champ – championship –” Tess nods proudly when Carter looks up at her for reassurance, “– and then Mamma and Mommy won five together.”

Tess hums in confirmation. “Your Mommy could never really win when it came to me, huh?”

That makes both of their children giggle, although Paige huffs dramatically. “Mamma wins more?” Alessia asks.

Tess nods again and Paige kisses her teeth. “No, sweetie, Mamma does not have more championship wins than Mommy, she’s lying to you,” she argues.

“Babe, what’d we say about lying to the kids?” Tess teases, but she knows Paige is just joking, too, matching smiles on both of their faces.

“Lying is bad,” Carter agrees wisely, waggling a small finger at Paige. The blonde swoops down, pretending to bite her finger, and that just sends Carter into another flurry of giggles.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” Paige murmurs, kissing Carter’s forehead. She makes sure to turn back around, brushing Alessia’s hair out of her face and grinning at her. “You, too. You both are the smartest, most beautiful, kindest girls in the world.” A smile grows on Tess’s face as she watches Paige interact with their children. When they were first seriously talking about pregnancy, Paige was always a little worried that she wouldn’t be a good mom. She thought motherhood had to be natural, that it couldn’t be trial and error. Tess finds that Paige is a mix of both. She’s a natural in the way she uplifts and encourages their daughters, in the way she teaches them how to be better humans, although it took her a few attempts to figure out how to discipline them (on the rare occasions it was warranted – Tess and Paige truly lucked out and got the perfect children).

Tess used to think that one day, it would be impossible to fall anymore in love with Paige, but she continues to surprise her. Watching her be a mother to their daughters activates a different part of her brain entirely. It’s like it was something she was destined to do, and Tess can’t help the way her heart swells at the sight.

“Time for bed,” she says softly. Surprisingly, Carter and Alessia don’t complain, only sticking out their tiny arms. Tess and Paige both wrap them up in tight hugs, leading them both through their goodnight prayers and making sure to whisper their I love yous. With a gentle chorus of “Night Mamma, night Mommy”, Paige shuts off the light in their room, closing the door with a gentle click.

Paige doesn’t waste anymore time after. She wraps her arms around Tess from behind, sighing against her softly as her head falls onto her shoulder, pressing a chaste, innocent kiss to her neck. “You’re really good with them,” Tess comments.

Paige squeezes her waist a little tighter, a soft noise that sounds vaguely like disbelief building in her throat. “They’re my girls,” she murmurs. “So are you.” Her hands trail to her stomach, fingers brushing against the soft skin of her navel, the sinew and the power in her muscles despite how motherhood has softened her. “I love you so much, you know that?”

Tess chuckles, twisting around in Paige’s embrace to hug her fully. Her body is warm against hers, solid. It’s always the easiest way to ground her after long days where being a mother tests her patience. Paige’s arms envelop her fully and Tess sighs, melting into her. “Been told a time or two,” she murmurs, which makes Paige huff out something akin to laughter as she sways them back and forth.

“You’re good with them, too, you know,” Paige reminds her after a while.

“You make it easy,” she states.

“We’re a team.”

In lieu of a verbal response to that, Tess presses up on the tips of her toes to kiss her wife, soft brushes that make her feel like it’s their first kiss all over again. The peace in her heart feels like contentment, like relief. She has everything she’s ever wanted in life; her wife, her family, her legacy. Wrapped up in Paige’s arms outside of their childrens’ bedroom is truly what fulfillment feels like.

When Paige draws back far enough to whisper, “Thank you for giving me this life,” Tess knows exactly what she means. Her love, her heart, their children – they all add up to be the greatest successes of their shared life together. Tess couldn’t be anymore thankful, more appreciative of the way her life has played out. Paige is worth it. Their children are worth it. And for as long as she has her family, she knows that home isn’t so far away.

[stylesispunk]

'You gave me something to lose'

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is afraid of losing you.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. Messy writing cause this is an old draft.

a/n: this was on my drafts for so long so I'm posting this as a gift because I'm going to London for the next two weeks and I won't be very active on here. So once I return, I promise I'll write the pendant things and requests I have. I hope you like this one. Happy reading 💌

dividerers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel didn’t fear anything, not dying nor being alone or even broke.

Not the clickers, not darkness, but you.

when his mission to take Ellie to the fireflies became into caring for the teen, he felt panicked.

And when he learned he had fallen deeply in love with you, you gave him something to lose.

And he was frightened.

Joel had always been a fortress, walls built high and strong to keep out the pain and loss he had endured. But now, those walls were crumbling. Each moment he spent with you, each secret you both had shared, each tender touch, chipped away at the defenses he had so meticulously constructed.

Since the day Joel met you at the QZ in Boston, you had stolen something from him. He didn’t decipher what back then, but every time you weren’t on his sight, a knot formed on his stomach. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his blood rushed into his cheeks.

And God, every single time you smiled at him, he could find a reason to keep surviving in this world, again.

And that’s why when you had decided to go after him, when he and Tess took Ellie with them to the fireflies. He had made up his mind, between the anger and tinted loved was feeling for you right at that moment, he had decided he was going to protect you more than anything or anyone. Even when you got on his nerves.

The journey to the fireflies was grueling. The roads were treacherous, infested with clickers and hunters. Every step was a battle, every night a gamble. But Joel was relentless. He led the way with a grim determination, always keeping you and Ellie close. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked in every shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the desolate landscape, you found a moment of respite. The group set up camp in an abandoned building, its crumbling walls offering a semblance of shelter. Joel, ever vigilant, took the first watch.

You approached him, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his weathered face. He looked up as you neared, his eyes softening slightly. “You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You shook your head, sitting down beside him. “I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

Joel glanced at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that.” There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d feel this way again. Not after everything.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve…” he paused, “Never mind.”

You furrowed your brow, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. “Joel, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” He paused again, just a few seconds, lifting his gaze up to yours “Why did you followed us three?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t hesitate in your response. “I didn’t follow all of you. I followed you.”

“Why?”

“Because back in the QZ there wasn’t a life after you” you confessed, “Life sucks in there, but without you it would be worse.”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, the vulnerability of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He stared at you, trying to process the depth of your feelings. “I never knew…”

“Of course you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “You’ve always been so focused on surviving, on protecting Tess and yourself, that you’ve never stopped to see how much you mean to people. How much you mean to me.”

He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Good to know it because I feel the same about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his admission filling you with warmth. "Joel..."

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “When I met you, I didn’t think I could care for anyone again. But you... you changed that.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break the cosmic moment “I’m glad. Because I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

Joel reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. “Now can you, please go to sleep?”

“Can I sleep here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

He shifted, making room for you to lie down beside him. As you settled in, the warmth of his body next to yours was both comforting and grounding. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“For what?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“For letting me in. For trusting me.”

Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I trust you more than anyone. And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together. “As the night deepened, the sounds of the wilderness outside seemed distant, the crackling fire casting a gentle glow around you. Joel’s steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the lullaby that finally coaxed you into sleep. In his arms, you found a peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

He felt his heart giving up for you.

That had happened a few months ago.

And Joel had become afraid. He found himself lying awake almost every night, staring at the sky and the stars, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind. What if something happened to you? What if he couldn't protect you? The thought of losing you, of seeing the light fade from your eyes, was a nightmare he couldn't bear. It was a fear far greater than anything he had ever faced; greater than the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world he had navigated for so long.

During the day, he tried to push these fears aside, trying to focus on the present. But it was impossible. Every smile you gave him reminded him of what he stood to lose. Every time you reached for his hand, his heart ached with the weight of his love for you and the dread of its potential loss.

He watched you with Ellie, how you cared for her, and how you brought joy and laughter into her bleak world. He saw how you made her feel safe and loved, and it only made his feelings for you deepen. Ellie, too, had become a part of this fragile, makeshift family, and his love for both of you intertwined, creating a web of vulnerability he couldn't escape.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the bitter cold of the frozen winter night. Inside the small, dilapidated cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. You, Joel, and Ellie huddled close to the fire, trying to fend off the chill that seemed to seep through the very walls.

Ellie poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "What do you think it’ll be like, Joel?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Joel looked up from the map he was studying, his eyes softening as he met Ellie’s gaze. "What do you mean?"

"After the cure," she said. "When this is all over. What do you think it’ll be like?"

Joel leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his mind drifting to a time long past. "I reckon things will be...different. Better, maybe. People could rebuild, start over. There might be schools again, towns with shops, places where kids can just be kids."

Ellie smiled at the thought, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "I want to learn to play guitar," she said. "Like you, Joel. You promised to teach me, remember?"

Joel chuckled softly, a rare sound in these harsh times. "Yeah, I remember. We'll find one, and I'll teach you. Maybe we can even have a little concert, you and me."

You watched the exchange, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "What about you, Joel? What's something you’d want to do?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. "I... I’d like to have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Maybe a little house with a garden. We could grow our own food, live a quiet life. Just...be together."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "That sounds nice," you said softly. "Really nice."

The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in thoughts of a hopeful future. You leaned against Joel, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer.

Ellie yawned and stretched out on the floor next to the fire. "I think I'm going to get some sleep," she said, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

"Good idea," Joel replied. "I’ll keep the watch."

Ellie nodded and pulled her blanket tightly around herself, quickly drifting off to sleep. You and Joel stayed by the fire, the quiet crackling of the flames the only sound in the room.

"Do you really think there’s hope for a cure?" you asked quietly, your head resting on his shoulder.

Joel sighed, his fingers gently stroking your arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to believe there is. For Ellie. For you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. "You’ve been through so much, Joel. Yet you still find it in you to hope. That’s incredible."

He shook his head slightly. "It's not hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you.”

Joel’s panic attacks had become more frequent as the days passed. Every quiet moment seemed to stretch into an eternity of worry and fear. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, and the constant fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect you or Ellie gnawed at him relentlessly.

When the three of you had finally arrived at Jackson, Joel’s thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jackson was a sanctuary, a place where you could all be safe, but his fears didn’t dissipate. If anything, they grew stronger. The more secure the surroundings, the more he worried about what could go wrong.

Jackson was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes they had traversed. Children played in the streets, people worked in gardens, and there was a sense of community and hope that was almost overwhelming. Joel watched it all with a heavy heart, his mind racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to die, that some unseen danger would take him away from you and Ellie. The thought of leaving you unprotected was unbearable. That’s when the idea started to form: maybe the best way to protect you was to leave you in Jackson, where you’d be safe. Where you could even find someone younger than him to kept you alive.

Joel sought out his brother. He found Tommy in the community hall, finishing up some late-night paperwork. The room was quiet, the only sound the scratch of Tommy’s pen against the paper.

"Tommy," Joel said, his voice low and strained.

Tommy looked up, immediately sensing the urgency in his brother’s tone. "Joel, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He sat down across from Tommy, his eyes filled with anguish. "I need to talk to you. It’s about Ellie and... and my….my " He couldn’t find the words to describe you. Calling you his lover wasn’t a proper word to use, it felt so weak. There was not nickname that could make justice to what you meant to him.

“Your girlfriend?” Tommy asked.

Joel nodded.

Tommy set his pen down, giving Joel his full attention. "Alright, tell me what’s on your mind."

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke. "I don’t know how much longer I can do this. The fear... it’s eating me alive. I’m so scared something’s going to happen to them, and I won’t be able to protect them."

Tommy’s expression softened. "Joel, you’re in Jackson now. It’s safe here. We’ve got walls, people who care about each other. You don’t have to do this alone."

Joel shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to die, like something’s going to take me away from them. And then what? What happens to them if I’m gone?"

Tommy reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. "We’ll take care of them, Joel. You’re not alone in this."

Joel’s tears began to fall, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m asking you to take Ellie with you. Keep her safe. And let my baby stay here in Jackson. She deserves a life that’s not filled with running and fear."

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. "Joel, are you sure about this? You’re talking about leaving them behind."

"I’m not leaving them," Joel said, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to protect them. They’ll be safer without me."

Tommy sighed, his heart breaking for his brother. "And what about you, Joel? What happens to you if you leave?"

Joel wiped his tears, trying to steady himself. "I’ll find a way to keep going. I just need to know they’re safe. That’s all that matters."

Tommy nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear and love. "Alright, Joel. If this is what you think is best, I’ll take care of them. But you need to talk to them first. They deserve to know why you’re doing this."

Joel nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I will. Thank you, Tommy."

Tommy pulled Joel into a tight embrace; his voice filled with emotion. "We’re family, Joel. We take care of each other."

Joel clung to his brother, the tears flowing freely now. He knew the conversation with you and Ellie would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but he also knew it was necessary. The fear of losing you both was too great to ignore, and he hoped that, in time, you would understand why he had to make this choice.

Joel walked slowly to Ellie’s room, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to do. He knew this conversation would be one of the hardest of his life, but he also believed it was necessary. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” Ellie’s voice called from inside.

He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ellie was sitting on her bed, reading one of the books she had found in Jackson’s library. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, but her smile faded when she noticed the serious expression on his face.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

Joel closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ellie, her young face full of life and determination, and it made his heart ache.

“Ellie, we need to talk,” he said softly, struggling to find the right words.

Ellie set her book aside and gave him her full attention. “What’s going on?”

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Ellie, I’ve been thinking a lot about our journey, about everything we’ve been through. And... about what comes next.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice rising with emotion. “Joel, no. We’re supposed to stick together. We’re a team.”

Joel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “Ellie, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. The fear... it’s too much. I’m scared something’s going to happen to you, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Ellie reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We protect each other, Joel. That’s how we’ve always done it.”

Joel swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m asking Tommy to take you to the fireflies. He’ll keep you safe until you arrive to the hospital.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head fiercely. “No, Joel. I’m not going without you. We’ve come this far together, and I’m not leaving you.”

Joel’s heart ached at her words, but he forced himself to continue. “Ellie, you need to understand. I’m not... I’m not your father. I can’t be the one to keep you safe forever.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Ellie’s tears began to fall. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Joel. Don’t you get that? Fuck”

Joel’s own tears threatened to spill over, but he steeled himself. “But you’re not my daughter and I’m not your father.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice filled with desperation. “No, Joel. Please. Don’t do this. We need you.”

Joel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “I need you to trust me, Ellie. This is the best way to keep you safe.”

Ellie pulled away from his touch, her face a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I don’t want to be safe if it means losing you. You and her are all I have, Joel.”

Joel stood up, his heart shattering at her words. “I’m sorry, Ellie. But this is how it has to be.”

He turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a lead weight. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Ellie one last time.

With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the sound of Ellie’s muffled sobs. He knew this was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, but he believed it was the right one.

As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he heard footsteps approaching. You appeared at the end of the hallway, having heard the conversation. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw the same mix of anger, hurt, and confusion that Ellie had shown.

You approached Joel slowly, your face a mix of anger and hurt. He could see the questions in your eyes, the need for an explanation that would make sense of the pain he had caused.

"Joel," you said, your voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

Joel looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm trying to keep you both safe. You and Ellie. This place, Jackson... it's where you can have a real life."

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer. "And you think abandoning us is the way to do that? How could you even consider leaving us behind?"

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not abandoning you. It's making sure you're protected. If something happens to me—"

You cut him off, your voice rising with emotion. "Don't you get it, Joel? We need you. Ellie needs you. I need you. You're the reason we've made it this far. You can't just walk away."

Joel's eyes were filled with pain as he looked up at you. "I can't shake the fear that I'm going to die, that I won't be there when you need me most. I thought if I left, you'd be safer."

You stepped even closer, your anger giving way to desperation. "Safer? Joel, we've faced everything together. We protect each other. How can you think we'd be better off without you? How can you think I would be better off without you?""

Joel's voice was barely a whisper. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you knew you had to make him understand. You reached out, taking his hands in yours. "Joel, I love you. I need you with me, not just for protection, but because you're my love. Leaving me won't keep me safe; it'll break me."

Joel looked at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. The fear is... it's too much."

You squeezed his hands, your voice gentle but firm. "We'll face it together, Joel. Just like we always have. You're not alone in this. Please, don't leave me."

Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears finally spilling over. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.

You held him close, your own tears falling. "I know, Joel. But we're stronger together. I need you. Ellie and I need you"

As you stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the hallway, Joel felt the weight of his fear begin to lift. The love and determination in your voice gave him the strength he needed to keep going. At least for a bit.

After a long moment, Joel pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was trying to do the right thing.”

You nodded; your heart full of relief. "We'll figure it out, Joel. Together."

Joel took a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much,” he said, pecking your lips.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you returned his kiss, a soft, reassuring touch. “I love you too, Joel,” you whispered, your voice steady with conviction.

Joel rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. “I just don’t want to lose you or Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of you.”

You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’re not going anywhere, Joel. We’ve made it through so much already, and we’ll keep making it through. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into a tighter embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder of his presence. “Together,” he repeated, his voice more confident now.

You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking up into Joel’s eyes. "Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day."

He nodded, allowing you to lead him down the hall to the bathroom. The room was small, but it had a functioning shower—one of the many luxuries you had come to appreciate in this place. You turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right.

Joel stood there, watching you with an exhaustion and adoration. He started to undress, his movements were slow You did the same, your eyes meeting his with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between you. Both of you bared int front of each other, stealing glances of your bodies in display.

Once you were both undressed, you stepped into the shower together. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before gently running them over Joel’s shoulders and back.

He sighed, leaning into your touch. "You don’t have to do this," he murmured.

"I want to," you replied, your voice tender. "Let me take care of you." You said, pressing a kiss on his wet shoulder.

You continued to wash him, your hands moving in soothing, circular motions. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment began to ease the tension in his muscles. When you reached his hair, you took the shampoo and began to work it into a lather, your fingers massaging his scalp.

Joel closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. "That feels nice," he admitted.

You smiled, continuing to wash his hair with gentle care. "Good. You deserve to relax."

After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you handed him the soap. "Your turn," you said with a playful smile.

He took the soap, his hands surprisingly gentle as he began to wash your shoulders and back. The feel of his strong, calloused hands against your skin was comforting, a reminder of how much you meant to each other. He took his time, his touch tender and affectionate, showing the love he felt for you.

When he reached your hair, he repeated the process, his fingers working the shampoo through your locks with the same care you had shown him. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands in your hair and the warmth of the water cascading over you.

For a while, the two of you stood there, simply enjoying the closeness and the rare moment of peace. The world outside might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this small bathroom, there was only love.

When you were both clean, you turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around Joel’s shoulders before taking another for yourself. You helped each other dry off, the intimacy of the moment deepening the existent bond between you.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he said softly.

You cupped his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We’re in this together, Joel. Always."

He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Together," he echoed.

As you both stood there in the warmth of the bathroom, wrapped in towels and each other's embrace, the bond between you felt stronger than ever. The fear and uncertainty of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the love and trust you had for each other.

Joel kissed the top of your head and took your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. You both moved slowly, savoring the peaceful moment.

You helped Joel into bed, making sure he was comfortable before slipping in beside him. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The simple act of being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. "I love you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I can ever put into words."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. "I love you too, Joel. So much."

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I mean, caring this much for someone. Not since Sarah. And it's... it's scary. But it's also the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt."

Your heart ached for him at the mention of Sarah, but you knew how important it was for Joel to express his feelings. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay to be scared, Joel. But you're not alone in this. We’re in it together."

Joel nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've given me something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope. A reason to keep fighting. And I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make sure we have a future together."

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "We’ll protect each other. And we’ll build that future, one day at a time."

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feeling of having you in his arms. "I promise you, I'll never let anything happen to you. You and Ellie mean everything to me."

You snuggled closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "And you mean everything to us, Joel. We're stronger together."

Joel sighed contentedly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Thank you for standing by me, for believing in me. I don't know what I’d do without you."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world outside momentarily forgotten. In each other's arms, you found solace and strength, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Hours later, Joel woke up in the middle of the night, the room shrouded in darkness. He instinctively reached out for you, but his hand found only empty space. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.

"Baby, where are you?" he muttered, throwing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and a shirt, his movements hurried and frantic. The fear of losing you, so deeply ingrained in his mind, took hold as he rushed out of the bedroom.

He moved swiftly down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened? Had someone taken you? The thoughts were unbearable. He reached the top of the stairs and bolted down them, nearly stumbling in his haste.

When he reached the bottom, he paused, his eyes darting around the living room. Relief washed over him as he saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Joel, what’s wrong?" you asked, concern etching your features.

He let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing. "I woke up and you weren’t there," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I thought something had happened to you."

You set your tea down on the table and stood up, crossing the room to him. "I’m sorry," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I didn’t mean to scare you."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if to reassure himself that you were really there. "It’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "I just...I can’t bear the thought of losing you."

You held him just as tightly, feeling the intensity of his emotions. "You won’t lose me, Joel. I promise."

He nodded, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know. It’s just...sometimes the fear gets the better of me."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "I understand," you said gently. "But we’re safe here. We have each other."

He sighed, the tension slowly easing from his body. "Yeah, we do."

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit with me for a while. The tea is still warm."

He followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. You picked up your cup and handed it to him. "Here, takes a sip. It’ll help you relax."

He took the cup, his hands still slightly trembling. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, helping to calm his nerves. "Thanks," he said, his voice steadier.

You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Joel. Together."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Yeah, we will."

The two of you sat there in the quiet of the night, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of each other’s presence soothing the fears that had momentarily overwhelmed him. In that moment, Joel felt a renewed sense of peace, knowing that as long as you were by his side, he could face anything the future held.

As the minutes passed, the tension in Joel's body melted away. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, content and calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the weight of his heart.

"I love you too," you replied softly, without opening your eyes.

Joel took another sip of the tea, its warmth soothing him from the inside out. The night was still and quiet, a rare tranquility enveloping your home. He gazed around the room, taking in the modest, yet comforting surroundings. This place, this sanctuary in Jackson, could become more than just a shelter. A home.

You snuggled closer to him, and Joel felt a profound sense of gratitude. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly believe in the possibility of a future filled with hope and love. The horrors of the past, the constant threats of the present, they all seemed a little more bearable with you by his side.

"We’ve been through so much," he said quietly, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But sitting here with you, it makes it all worth it."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’ve found something real, Joel. Something worth fighting for. And no matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together."

Joel nodded, feeling the truth of your words settle deep within him. "Together," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "Always."

The two of you sat there in the stillness, the warmth of each other's presence a balm for your souls. Joel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. With you, he had found a reason to hope, to believe in a better tomorrow.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with him. You noticed his eyelids growing heavy and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it on the table. "Come on," you whispered, standing up and offering your hand. "Let’s get some rest."

Joel took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bedroom. The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, casting a warm light over the bed. You both slipped under the covers, and Joel pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

With you in his arms, the fear and anxiety that had plagued him earlier faded away. The rhythm of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart against his chest, all served as a reminder of the love and strength you shared.

"Goodnight, Joel," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "Goodnight," he replied, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.

As he closed his eyes, Joel felt a deep sense of contentment. No matter what the future held, he knew that with you by his side, he could face it all. Together, you had built something beautiful amidst the chaos, and that was something worth holding on to.

In the quiet darkness, with you in his arms, Joel finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the life you would continue to build together, one filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Puppies at Hand

Summary: After coming home from a weeklong work trip, you come home to discover your husband in a pile of puppies galore.

Warnings: fluff!

WC: 301

Read on ao3!

--

Feeling exhausted, you arrived at your apartment after being away for a week long work trip. All you wanted was to cuddle up next to your husband Joel and sleep for three days straight. As you fished for your keys out of your pocket, you heard your husband laughing and smiled to yourself before you heard a soft barking noise. You scrunch your brows in thought until you finally turned the key and the door swung open to reveal your husband lying in the middle of the living room floor with three labrador puppies bouncing around his head.

“Joel?” you asked cautiously as you stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind you. “What’s this? When did you get puppies? I know when I left last week, this apartment was puppy-free.”

Smiling in joy as he picked up a puppy he kissed its nose before he lifted it up to you. “I named this one Sarah.”

You scratched the puppy behind his ear before you lifted a brow. “You’re avoiding the question.”

Pouting, he pushed the other two puppies out of his way as he stood up. “Frank and Bill needed help taking care of a litter. They have the other three puppies. I thought it wouldn’t be an issue if I took care of them for the time being.”

“You can keep one.” you held up a finger indicating the number, though you wouldn't be opposed to having all of them in your home. 

“Really?” He beamed before hugging you tightly, causing the two puppies on the ground to bark with excitement.

“I can take the other two to Ellie and Tess. They’d go nuts over puppies.” You placed your suitcase down on the ground and picked up the other two puppies, laughing as they licked your face happily.

--

Add yourself to my tag list for more!

[ennabear]

vampire!ellie

synopsis: you met ellie in your university’s ancient library, you were just trying to study and ellie couldn’t help but talk to you. it drove her crazy, the scent of your blood. usually, she didn’t even notice the scent on others. she was so used to it that it didn’t bother her anymore. but you were different, sweeter.

cw: kinda like a mix between tlou and twilight, mentions of witchcraft and hanging, vampire!abby being a ladykiller literally, papa vampire!joel, mama vampire!tess, newlyweds vampire!jesse and dina, dina’s transformation, lotsssss of backstory like i seriously couldn’t stop myself from yapping. not proofread sorry :((((((

a/n: i’m definitely gonna make a series out of this. sorry if this is wayyy too long but i have a special place in my heart for vamp!ellie and her sweet vampire family. ok that’s all ily thanks for reading.

wc: 2.2k

you shouldn’t be walking alone at night, really. campus was a sketchy place. a plethora of bad things could happen. you could get kidnapped, jumped, pickpocketed, or, hell, even bitten by a vampire.

the library had the same scent it always did. it smelled like dust and paper. in all honesty, you didn’t prefer it here. although it was beautiful, tall windows lined with stained glass, large bookshelves with every book you’d ever want, every word you could imagine and more, it was just so eerie. something bad was bound to happen here.

anyways, you settled down at the table in the corner. the one farthest away from anyone else. you’d rather be at home right now, studying in bed. it’s only because your roommate invited her stupid boyfriend over that you ended up here. it’s for the better anyway, though, because in bed you wouldn’t get anything done. you’d be too distracted.

you had your priorities written on your palm, the pen now smudged, making it barely readable. writing on your palm was easier, more convenient than a post-it note. but you wrote it down on paper anyways, incase you sweated more of it off before you finished. it wasn’t likely you would, though. the library was freezing, especially in the winter.

the clack of your fingers typing in your laptop password was the only thing to be heard. everyone else was dead silent. this was probably the only thing you liked about the library, everybody agreed on an unspoken rule, make the least amount of noise possible. you got started with completing your essay after shuffling your playlist, determined to finish by the end of the night.

that’s when she saw you.

or, smelled you? your scent was so strong, it hit ellie hard. her vision went dark and splotchy, and she had to grip onto the table for support. her pearly white hands making a dent in the table with how hard she was holding.

you had to be her next meal. she had to find some way to get you alone and suck your veins dry. it scared her, the thoughts she was having. her intentions weren’t to murder you, but she was starving now. you had unknowingly gotten her high on your scent.

she didn’t even know where you were. were you outside? down the hall? in the library? fuck, right next to her? her head was hurting now, really, really badly. but she needed you even worse.

picking up a random book, she used the most brainpower she could to sniff you out. then, she really saw you. headphones in your ears, your hands typing away at something that won’t even matter soon. soon, she’ll have your body in her arms, hopefully in the comfort of her own home. your neck dripping a puddle on the floor as she relentlessly drank from you, your skin growing cold and your lips turning purple.

her docs made silent footsteps across the floor as she walked toward you. this was something ellie learned to master, silence. especially when she went into hunting mode. nobody looked at her as she expertly dodged the creaks in the old wooden floor. nobody saw her coming. especially you. you never saw ellie williams coming.

“hey, is it okay if i sit here?”

“….sorry, what was that?” you scrambled to pause your music.

“can i sit here?”

“oh. yeah, sure. go ahead.”

you went back to typing, not continuing your music incase she wanted to talk. you really hoped she didn’t. you needed to finish your essay. and you weren’t much of a people person either.

“what are you writing?” she asked.

“just an essay, nothing interesting.”

“oh, cool.”

she started reading the book she picked up before sniffing you out. she didn’t bother to look at the title. or read any of the words either. really, she was just staring at it, her mind racing. she needed to come up with something interesting, something to make you like her.

while she stared at the words, you couldn’t help but stare at her. your fingers came to a complete stop as you admired this stranger across from you. she didn’t even introduce herself, how strange. her hair was a dark brown, her eyes black. her face was incredibly smooth. skin paler than ever, she looked as if she was a marble statue, like she belonged in a museum.

and she was reading twilight, of all books. although, you liked the book, it seemed ironic for her, like she was too mature for it. this beautiful stranger was sitting across from you, her eyebrows pulled together in frustration while she chewed on the inside of her cheek. she seemed furious at something, but at the same time, hard to read.

you were almost scared of her, but intrigued above all else.

“do you like that book?” you asked.

“twilight? yeah. it’s okay. i’ve read it a few times.”

“hmm. it’s a classic.”

“it’s not bad. but i’ve read a lot of books. this one doesn’t come close to the others.”

“so you read a lot? how come i’ve never seen you before?”

“i’m usually hiding. i don’t prefer to engage with others if i can help it.”

“yeah, that explains it.”

she got lucky. thank god, if there even is one, that she grabbed a book you knew about. that you started a conversation with her. she thought it was the most stupid book on earth. it was filth, pure mormon fanfiction. and it was completely wrong.

“why are you here so late? it’s almost midnight.” you asked.

“i could ask you the same question.” she responded.

“i have a lot of work i’ve been procrastinating on. if i could choose, i’d be at home. but my roommate’s boyfriend is there and i can’t stand being in the same building as them.”

“i don’t really know why i’m here. i just like to meet new people i guess.”

“i thought you didn’t like talking to people.”

“that’s different. you’re different.”

“how so? you don’t know who i am, and i don’t even know your name.”

she stared at you blankly. you had her trapped. she suddenly realized that maybe you were harder to get than she expected. maybe you wanted to play this game.

“i’m ellie. it’s short for elizabeth but i hate that name. it’s too common, i’m sick of hearing it.”

“elizabeth is beautiful.”

“thanks. you sound like my parents.”

lie. she didn’t know her parents anymore. they had abandoned her hundreds of years ago after suspecting she was a witch because she refused to get married to a man at only seventeen. after a few years, she was hung.

it wasn’t until her new father, joel, took up an investigation of what happened to poor elizabeth. he ended up traveling to their old village and finding her grave after tracing her obituary back to a newspaper published in 1579.

shed been dead for years. joel was the one who brought her back to life. he injected his venom into her long rotten arms and took her in for the seven years it took for her to come back fully. he saved her. he taught her how to walk, how to speak, how to hunt. joel miller was her new father.

joel used to be a police officer. in 1712, he ran into a poor woman, bleeding and begging for his help. claiming that her husband had turned to satan and was now possessed. the woman had been bitten, she eventually would turn into ellie’s mother, tess. joel got bitten too. all three of them spent the next years as newborns in that small cabin, feasting on whoever was unfortunate enough to wander by.

the woman’s husband didn’t survive. he was caught by a clan of christians and burned alive, leaving just joel and tess, who couldn’t help but fall in love. they adopted more kids before and after ellie too.

abigail was the first. she was living alone in the appalachian mountains, feasting on whoever wandered after sundown. leading poor girls, desperate for a good time, into her bed and then eating them whole. abigail often hung out at lesbian bars. the girls who went home with her never came back. a bartender joked with her about this once, the bartender didn’t come back, either.

joel heard about abigail through the only other coven that lived in washington. they said she was a monster, a relentless murderer trapped in a goddesses body. that she could hold the whole world on her shoulders but couldn’t refrain from eating innocent girls who were cheating on their husbands.

abby and ellie were never really good friends, but they tried. abby preferred to keep to herself. usually either reading or climbing a mountain with her bare hands. and she refused to find a long-term lover. ellie was almost the opposite. she preferred more modern things, like making music and fast cars. and she loved to flirt with girls.

jesse came after ellie. he was born more recently, in 1878. he was dying of a disease nobody knew about. they didn’t have the right knowledge or technology to save him, so they quarantined him in a hospital room until he died. he didn’t, though. joel saved his life. the hospital staff were horrified after seeing the blood stained floor, the splatters over the walls, and more importantly, the fact that jesse’s body was nowhere to be found.

jesse had a wife now, named dina. she met him in 1983 at a prestigious fashion school. jesse had already been to tons of colleges. neither of them aged. they never changed. they were all trapped. after studying medicine, law, physics, engineering, and marketing, he wanted a change.

that’s when he met dina. she was a beautiful woman, deep tan skin, dark eyes, long black hair and eyelashes. and she had such a knack for fashion. jesse was in love, it took him a long while before he came clean to dina about who he was. she was so in love with him too, she didn’t mind it, and she certainly wasn’t scared. dina was never scared of anything.

so they got married. and the night after their wedding, they flew to a private island joel owned for their “honeymoon”. aka, dina’s transformation. they were gone for almost three years. jesse kept a journal of everything that happened to her.

july 12, 1989. i did it. i held her so gently in my arms and sank my teeth into her neck. she was screaming, i know she was in pain, but she’ll never admit it. before she fell asleep, i drank a few of her tears and then closed her eyes. she’ll be twenty six for the rest of her life, until the earth stops spinning. i hope she can forgive me.

december 31, 1989. joel, i got your letter. she’s been doing okay. i can’t stop looking at her, her perfect curves and her deep brown hair. i think it was for the better that i took her dress off before we started, she designed it, it was so beautiful. i know she’d get upset about the red staining the expensive white satin. it’s still here, waiting for her. the year is about to end, we still have quite a few months until she awakes. i’m scared. not of her, of myself. am i a murderer? did i, a cold-blooded demon, destroy a perfect, innocent life? will she remember me?

august 27, 1990. it’s been over a year. nothing, but i know it’s coming. i’ve been holding her head on my lap, stroking her hair. i haven’t moved from this position in three months. she is so beautiful. i redressed her in the outfit she designed for this occasion, it suits her well. a part of me regrets this decision. i wish i could grow old with her, maybe have kids someday. sit on the porch while or grandchildren play in the yard. her eyes wrinkling with the smile she always flashes me. this will never happen. it’s just a dream.

november 16, 1990. she is awake. so much screaming. she’s in pain. won’t even look at me. she is thirsty. will bring her some bird blood to quench her thirst.

november 21, 1990. she only sits and stares at a wall, rocking back and forth. her eyes are white now. don’t know if she is okay. or if she will survive. her throat burns. if she goes, i go.

february, 1991. don’t know what day it is, she has calmed down. she didn’t remember anything at first. not me, not her name, nothing. she remembers now, though. hopefully we can come home this year. i still don’t know if i trust her enough around people. if she is caught, she’ll be burned. if she goes, i go.

may 18, 1991. traveled to a near by island. i taught her how to swim, she loves it. she’s so surprised that she can hold her breath infinitely. she is so beautiful, it’s like falling in love with her all over again. there were people at the island, it was a small village. they were kind, but we had to leave early. i don’t want to push her limits, but she did exceptionally well.

october 4, 1991. on our way home. starting this life forever with her. i hope she can forgive me.

[limerlove]

AN EXCLUSIVE REMI PREVIEW!

testing...one...two...three...incoming one shot!

❝ TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU ❞

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

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

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

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

wc. 16k+

my love, my conspirator, my cowriter, my other half. can’t spell remi without em…my sweet embear, @absfawn — there’s nothing i treasure more in the world than writing with you. a gorgeous brain, a stellar personality, nd such a beautiful heart. m’so proud of this project we put together and can’t wait to share with y’all ♡

if you aren’t on my taglist, lmk if you wanna be tagged!

[64reprieve]

masterlist ch.1

cw: mentions of self-harm ideation, meanish!ellie, loser!ellie, miscommunication, disassociation, mentions of trauma, alluding to internalized homophobia, oc is a mess and a little dramatic, compulsory heterosexuality, mentions of blasphemy, slight angst wc: 1.7k a/n: first chapter of my new fic. haven't formally written a story in a while so i'm a bit nervous about this. it's a little short but i didn't want to overwhelm the character introductions. all feedback helps! taglist: @user01o2kd @liasxeatt @wa-awa-awa @layalisthings free palestine

chapter 1: two moonshiners on the cusp of a breath

[Dorms, Boston University in Boston, MA, 3:37pm, Move-in, Ellie’s Journal Entry]

Flew back to Boston last week. Tess has been hovering since she picked me up from the airport but she hasn’t bugged me about not picking up Joel’s calls. I won’t see Dina until after she gets back from Jesse’s parents. Her side of the room’s already put together. I’ve made my bed if that’s anything. Dina said to leave the door open so I could meet people during move in but I don’t really care about talking to strangers and I didn’t transfer here to make friends.

[Dorms, Boston University in Boston, MA, 7:25pm, Move-in, Ellie’s Journal Entry]

Unpacked half of the boxes I brought. I want to put up this picture of Riley but I don’t want Dina to think it means I’m getting bad again and I don’t want to talk about her. She came back to the door locked because I forgot to keep track of the fucking time and now she’s having me go to some bar with her and Jesse’s friends so I don’t spend my first day here holed up.

[Bar, Cask ‘n Flagon in Boston, MA, 8:24pm, Group Dinner]

Eden tucks her face into her elbow as she coughs, earning a glance from Abby. She’s been under the weather for two weeks and thinks it’s starting to worry her roommate.

“Who are we waiting on?" She asks with a gravelly voice, clearing her throat. 

Abby shrugs, scrolling on her phone and briefly scanning the bar for any sign of her friends as she replies, “Dina and her boyfriend.” 

Eden nods and coughs into her arm again. Abby sighs, placing her phone face down on the table. 

“Do you have COVID again?” She asks, blankly.

Eden shakes her head in response, eyebrows pinched together. She pauses to sip her pink thermos when Abby probes another question, “Are you pregnant?” 

She scoffs, polished fingers flicking Abby’s muscular arm earning her a playful hiss. She’s confident she’s not pregnant–unless it’s the second coming of Christ. 

“No! I’m not pregnant,” She argues, brows easing, “I just have a cough and that’s not even a symptom.”  

Abby raises a hand in mock surrender, lips quirking in amusement, “I’m narrowing it down. Kidding, I know your boy toy doesn’t have it in him.” 

Abby’s mention of Erik earns a half-hearted frown. Erik, a family friend of Eden’s turned potential suitor by the pressures of her ever-so-attentive parents. She doesn’t even like love him, no, but he adores her–dotes on her which is enough for Eden to work with. The furthest they’ve gone was holding hands for half a date while walking through a park. It’s ingrained in her memory but how could she forget? His hands were so clammy. 

She palms at her denim-clad knee in a subconscious effort to reassure herself. Of what–she doesn’t know.

“Did Dina say when she’d get here?” Eden asks, shifting the subject to something that doesn’t make her skin itch.

Abby’s back on her phone, scrolling through what looks like a medical TikTok page and landing on a video of– something on some part of the human body being removed. How is that even allowed?

She mumbles a reply, “Like ten minutes ago.”

The bar is teeming despite it being a Wednesday. The brick walls combined with the mass of screens playing some variation of a sport and the smell of beer lingering in the air. Eden nods and tries not to dwell on how she’d rather be elsewhere. Preferably in her and Abby’s shared dorm, laying in bed with the lights off and Abby’s white noise machine playing a little too loud. She promised she’d make an effort to be more social this term and this is her first attempt. It’d be embarrassing to mess up. 

The squeak of a chair being pulled out from across the table cuts her anxious thoughts short. Dina’s sitting down with a sheepish smile, her black ponytail swaying softly as Jesse joins beside her.

“Sorry, we ran a little later than I thought.” She apologizes. 

Jesse stretches his arms above his head with a relaxed smile, humming out a quip, “Yeah– my nails wouldn’t dry.” Abby laughs in return, flipping him off.

Eden’s lips part to reassure Dina, when the chair beside her sharply scratches against the tiled floor, silencing her. She’s convinced a stranger’s decided to join them until Dina clears her throat, hand flicking toward the auburn-haired girl as she explains, “Guys, meet Ellie. Ellie, this is Abby and Eden.” 

Ellie spares the two a curt nod to which Abby smiles. Eden’s not as impressed, her nerves getting the best of her as she stares for longer than socially acceptable. Ellie stares back, expression blank. She’s unsure of the obscure weight that suddenly builds in her stomach. It’s not something she’s felt before meeting someone new, but Eden wants to be polite–she’s going to be polite. 

The girl is beautiful in a way she’s not used to. Short, choppy strands akin to a mullet. Freckles pepper every inch of the girl’s skin and the green of her eyes reminds Eden of a summer she’d spent in Oregon– are those tattoos? Ellie breaks eye contact first, turning her head wordlessly. Eden follows suit to behave, tracing the dip of her nose until the skin blends into the curve of her lips in her peripheral view. The girl smells of fresh laundry and mint. Should I cut my hair like that? No– her parents would probably kill her. At the very least, they’d pull her from school. She wouldn’t want to prove them right and then be subjected to a lecture on how college is the devil’s playground. 

She coughs into her arm again then breathes in shakily, rattling with mucus and lips curling into a small smile as her hands sink into her lap– unsure of where to put them. 

She directs her attention to Dina instead, "Your new roommate?"

Dina nods, intertwining her hand with Jesse's on the table. Eden ponders the idea of his being as clammy as Erik’s. Maybe it’s a guy thing. She wonders if Dina enjoys touching him or if she does it out of formality.

"Yes and no. She just moved back, but she's spent every summer here with us," Dina flicks her head toward Jesse who's staring at her–immersed in her existence. Is that what she and Erik look like? "Ellie's mom lives next door to his."

Abby hums, sipping her water as she comments, "Cute," She sets the cup down, curious, "So is this your first year or are you a transfer?"

Ellie’s leaning forward and looking past– overlooking Eden. The weight in her stomach sinks further at the action. It reaches her throat, prickling her insides like a rare disease making her tense and speculate if everyone at the table can read her. Did she eat something bad before coming here?

Eden pushes her thoughts to wade in calmer water as she struggles to bury the ripple of Ellie’s voice, “Transfer. I–uh, went to UW in Wyoming.”

It’s soft, raspy, and slow. Fitted to her appearance like divine coincidence in a way that makes Eden’s mouth sticky. She pulls the collar of her sweater over her nose, muffling another cough into the fabric.

Abby nods, pushing her tongue against her cheek teasingly, “Was the program shit there?” 

Eden notes how Ellie’s veined hand twitches atop the wood table at Abby’s simple inquiry. “Something like that.” She mumbles. 

For a moment, Dina watches Ellie as if she’ll break. If Abby notices, she doesn’t say anything, accepting the topic’s end with another nod. Eden’s not as indifferent. The silence at the table makes her want to pick at Ellie’s brain until the hours bleed into days despite having just met her. She wants to know if something happened in Wyoming. She wonders if the sickness that’s plagued her these past couple of weeks is some form of a brain-eating amoeba. She’ll check WebMD later, but for now, she’ll settle with being impolite.

She doesn’t know why she says it– why she couldn’t let someone else steer the conversation into something more palatable. She’s never been skilled at reading a room, but even this she could feel.

“Bad enough to run away?” She asks, quietly.

Her words held no malice or intent, yet Ellie’s lips pressed into a subtle, tight line, and worse of it all– it was directed at her. The girl squints briefly, resembling agitation and Eden worries she’ll be yelled at any second for doing something wrong. She’s suddenly ten again, hiding behind a sheer curtain and clawing into the fabric with her nails, secretly willing it to rip through and pierce her skin while awaiting the blow.

Instead, Ellie drops her gaze and turns away from her. “It’s alright.” She imparts.

Her shortness is just as damaging. Eden realizes the pressure in her stomach has festered into an ache. She wants Ellie to like her, and she doesn’t know why. She knows she’s done something wrong again because her ears ring like a flatline and she wishes she was. 

The waitress returns as a savior and a bucket of cold water. Dinner isn't tense, thanks to her non-socially inept friends and she doesn’t attempt another effort to guide the conversation, humiliation fresh. Ellie orders chicken tenders with fries to pick at them and scrunches her nose when Jesse’s coffee is poured. Eden is half intrigued, half nauseous at the other's presence. She rode The Zipper at the fair with a friend last summer– the same tempestuous swirl in her gut.

She waits for the three to part before she slides off her stool, heart in her stomach. It must show on her face because Abby tosses a twenty on the warm receipt, looking at Eden tiredly. “Done for the night?”

Eden forces out a breath, nodding promptly. “Please.”

[Dorms, Boston University in Boston, MA, 10:36pm, Ellie’s Journal Entry]

I met Dina’s friends. And I tried to be nice the entire time for her and Jesse. They were nice. The girl next to me coughed more than she spoke. She wore converse too except they weren’t fucked up. I hope she got me sick. I don’t want to do anything. I texted Joel back. The chicken tastes like shit at Cask n’ Falgon(?)

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