#we gotta get through this first heatwave

[cultivating-wildflowers]

I have a rosebush in my garden that came eith the house, and during the first three springs and summers I lived here it never bloomed. Like Valancy Stirling’s rosebush, it shows plenty of growth, good strong green branches, but not a single bud. The last two years I cut it down almost to the dirt because all it did was get in the way.

This year it has buds.

[rescuebabiesau]

"Rescue Bots Are Built Different"

It was initially an ask, but I felt like this required a true post...

So on top of my previous post about their cold tolerance, there are some other things that I've noticed that set Sigma 17 specifically apart from other bots within the continuity/world they reside in.

HIGHER PAIN TOLERANCE

Cybertronians have been seen to be able to take serious punishment and hits and still get back up, but these guys take it to an extreme-

Chase skis behind a runaway car, his feet are literally smoking and red-hot when they finally stop, and all he does is complain about how there has to be another way to stop runaway vehicles.

In the same episode, Blades' feet are charred by a lightning strike, which can pass through the air at 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit, and he's still able to stand directly after (until other system failures later on paralyzed him)

Cece flung Heatwave and he flipped over multiple times and was able to walk it off... You get the idea.

HIGHER DURABILITY

While in Prime we see both Autobots and Decepticons alike taking scratches, dents, and the like-

-Sigma Seventeen never seems to have that problem. Their paint stays fresh, and dings and dents are barely referenced, even after they've been through the wringer and back. I mean, guys-

-There's nothing from a dinobot standing on your hood?

MULTI-CHANGE

It's established by Optimus Primue in the series that multi-changing is not a common thing achieved by cybertronians, and even those that can rarely are able to do so on their first attempt to access this power. He is even impressed by Heatwave's success on his first try. However, the fact that all four of them were able to do so on their first try-

-That's gotta be something unique. (Optimus going dino is exempt because- well, he's Optimus Prime.)

Also, it's established in Rescue Bots Academy that in order for some bots to achieve multi-change, they have to have access to the Multi-Cog...

...Which is a unique artifact in itself and isn't easily obtained by just anyone. (it's implied in the first season that there is only the one that is lent to Hotshot, and the others were found later and that their discovery was a major one for cybertronian history)

Heatwave might actually hold the record for most forms held by one bot and NOT losing their mind from it, so add "Stronger Psyche" to his attributes.

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM BEYONCÉ'S COWBOY CARTER *  assorted lines from the album, some slightly adapted, adjust as necessary

nothing really ends.

for things to stay the same, they have to change again.

hello, my old friend.

you changed your name, but not the ways you play pretend.

do you hear me?

let me make myself clear.

can you hear me, or do you fear me?

can we stand for something?

now is the time to face the wind.

can you stand me?

this isn't the time to pretend.

they used to say i spoke "too country."

they don't know how hard i had to fight for this.

goodbye to what has been.

you were only waiting for this moment to arise.

i had to leave my home at an early age.

i'm not in my bed.

i gotta choose myself.

i might cook, clean, but still won't fold.

i'm still working on my life, you know.

only god knows.

i got art to make.

i got love to create.

they won't dim my light.

i had to sacrifice and leave my fears behind.

you'll remember me, 'cause we got something to prove.

i will lead you down that road if you lose your way.

i'm born to be a protector.

even though i know someday, you're gonna shine on your own.

i gave water to the soil, and now it feeds me.

there you are, shaded underneath it all.

i feel proud of who i am.

i first saw your face in your father's gaze.

how many times have you let yourself get down?

be fond of your flaws.

i just hope you love yourself like that.

i really hope the best for you.

you're my love, my sweetie pie.

don't let go.

lay your cards down.

i'll be damned if i can't slow dance with you.

don't be a bitch.

there's a heatwave coming at us.

i give you kisses in the backseat.

you make me cry, you make me happy.

just toss it.

they couldn't have me and they never will.

sometimes i hold you closer just to know you're real.

sometimes i take a day off just to turn you on.

i could be your bodyguard.

you should let me ride shotgun.

you know how people like to start shit.

someone better hold me back.

i'm warning you, don't come for my man.

don't take the chance just because you think you can.

the games you play are nothing new.

you don't want no heat with me.

i know my man better than he knows himself.

shoot your shot with someone else.

i'm warning you, woman, find your own man.

i have to have this talk with you.

i really tried to stay cool, but your arrogance disturbed my solitude.

look what you made me do.

if you cross me, i'm just like my father.

you say move a mountain and i'll throw on my boots.

how does it feel to be adored?

think about leaving? hell no.

time moves quickly, and so do i.

i don't need anything.

here's to hoping i'll fall fast asleep tonight.

i need to get through this.

i came here for a reason, but i don't know the purpose.

time heals everything.

i'll be your backseat baby.

been a while since i haven't tried to pull away.

come here, you sexy little thing.

baby, you play too much.

i'm looking super hot.

i'm a fucking animal.

every time you know just what to do.

no one ever got me going quite like you.

girl, i wanna take you home.

they won't be around.

i hope that you know that once i loved you.

history can't be erased.

got you up all night and now you don't wanna leave.

how can a true love go so wrong?

put on a show and make it nasty.

let me sink into your arms.

i died and someone brought me back to life.

i plan to steal your heart again.

who am i to judge?

i will carry on.

baby, i've been waiting my whole life for you.

wherever you wanna go, that's fine with me.

all i see is the best of you.

i'm gonna give you the best years of your life.

you owe me a debt.

i hated you once.

tap me on the shoulder when you reload the gun.

i know they're looking for me.

i fall to pieces each time i see you there.

it don't matter what nobody says.

we can take back roads.

just say what you need from the store.

i'm coming home.

take that shit on the chin.

have mercy on me.

this house was built with blood and bones.

i need to make you proud.

[whatwooshkai]

25!

"Congratulations on graduating, I guess."

Heatwave takes a swig of the bottle of high grade and passes it to Blades, who wipes off the top before taking a drink. Chase stares at them balefully.

"I am now an officer of the law-" he starts, but Heatwave waves a hand in his face.

"Not yet, you aren't," he tells him, taking the bottle back from Boulder for another swig. "That's tomorrow. Day one of the rest of our lives, fellas." He offers the bottle to Chase. "Just enjoy yourself, mech."

Chase frowns, doorwings down and finials pinned back. Finally, he sighs and takes the bottle, producing a rag of his own to clean the top. "Alright."

"Attaboy." Heatwave leans back.

"You aren't even a real enforcer," Blades points out, flopping back between Heatwave and Boulder. "You're 'enforcer-adjacent'."

"You're a Rescue Bot," Boulder pipes up, taking the bottle from Chase, then handing to Blades. "We all are. Don't think to hard about the details."

"Damn straight," Heatwave agrees, nudging Boulder's pede with his own.

Chase sighs again, then scoots over to join the pile on Heatwave's other side, accepting the bottle when it's passed back to him.

It's peaceful as they finish the first bottle and get well through the second- up until Heatwave pulls out a cygar.

"What are you doing?" Chase demands, but his voice slurs a little.

Heatwave grins. "Smokin'."

Chase narrows his optics. "This is a non-smoking building."

Heatwave's grin gets bigger. "Whatcha gonna do, arrest me?"

Chase stares at him like he's genuinely considering it.

"Do it," Blades jeers, from where he's been building an impressively intricate card tower on Boulder's chassis. The mech in question is holding so still Heatwave feels the need to poke them every five or so minutes, just to make sure they aren't dead. "Arrest him for being, uh, fuck, um, not funny. Yeah."

"In that case-" Heatwave hiccups, then downs the rest of the bottle in one go. "In that case, arrest us all! But then you'd uh, damn, uh, you'd fuck up the card tower. And that shit's illegal."

"Is it?" Chase's expression is wide open and horrified, doorwings flicking agitatedly.

"Yes, definitely," Blades tells him. "Pass the cygar."

Heatwave reaches around the card tower, and Blades takes the cygar and starts puffing on it like he was a bot that had seen too much. Heatwave knows deep in his spark he's not getting that back.

By the time they've worked their way through five of the bottles, Blades has built his card tower so tightly to the ceiling that Boulder is now stuck beneath it, and they cannot figure out how to get them out. Chase passed out trying, leaving Blades and Heatwave to lean against the two of them, sharing the last bottle and smoking the last cygar.

"You think things will stay like this forever?" Blades asks.

"Hell no," Heatwave mutters around the cygar. The room has taken on an odd haze from them smoking, and even the windows open to vent it hasn't properly dissipated it. "This is the last of our academy days. Now we gotta like, fuck, work 'n shit."

"Not what I meant," Blades mutters. "You're all not gonna die or whatever, right?"

Heatwave frowns, trying to wrap his helm around the question, or at least make up some kind of reassuring answer. "Nah," he settles on. "I won't let us. And... uh, Chase would arrest us."

"He'd find a way," Blades agrees. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

They don't really remember the conversation in the morning.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic 1210: Gardening with Mr. Xiao Long (RWBY)

2:41 p.m. The Xiao Long Cabin's Backyard........

'Cling'

Oscar: ('Phew') (Uses his Arm to Wipe the Sweat Off his Forehead While Panting and Holding onto the Stick Part of the Shovel He Placed Next to the Now Slightly Shaded Garden) Okay! I think....That's everything.....for now.....

Tai: (Chuckles Lightly) Hey now, don't get tired on me just yet there, kiddo! I thought you're used to this kind of work.

Oscar: (Turns to his Girlfriend's Father) I am. Heck, I'm all for doing more of it nowadays, but not in this level of heat capacity. It's unbearable!

Tai: That's the Summer Heat for ya. It's so hot that it could make even most strongest willed warriors worn out after a while.

Oscar: Yeah, but did it really have to be here now? It's not even technically Summer yet!

Tai: (Smiles More Sheepishly) True, but it.....practically already start the moment the first day of June came around, so.....

Oscar: ('Sigh') You're not wrong there. The road was already filled with traffic before Ren brought me here.

Tai: (Shrugs) Eh. The roads are always busy in Patch, no matter the season- (Forms a Cheeky Grin) Or Weather the forecast~

'Badum Tssss'

Oscar: (Eyes Widened Before Slowly Turning his Head to Taiyang) Was that pun you made just now?

Tai: Yep! Been a long while since I've made one believe it or not, so I gotta make up for lost times. 'Less I wanna be pass my- (Points and Shows Off his Watch) time! (Chuckles Some More)

Oscar: ('Sigh') You are definitely Yang's father alrght.....

Tai: Hey, if you can stomach through my little firecracker's puns on a daily, you can handle a few of mines as well. (Wraps his Arm Around Oscar's Shoulder) Now, come on, let's head back in and get away from this heatwave before it gets even more un-BEAR-able! (Let's Out a Single Laugh Before Walking Himself and Oscar Back to the House) I still got it.

Oscar: (Oh god. He really is the King of Corny Dad Puns......)

Inside of Xiao Long's Cabin............

Tai: (Pouring a Two Glasses of Cold Lemonade for Both Him and Oscar) Thanks again for helping me take care of the garden out there, Oscar. There's no way I would've gotten everything done alone in that heat. (Hands Oscar his Drink)

Oscar: (Smiles Softly) It's no problem at all, Mr. Xiao Long. As exhausting as today was, I'm glad we got the chance to spend time together today at least. You're a pretty good company to have around. (Takes a Sip of his Drink)

Tai: (Smiles Brightly) Likewise, kiddo! Better be careful now. (Forms a Playful Smirk) We wouldn't want the girls thinking I'm stealing you away from them.

Oscar: ('Scoffs') Please. As if those two would ever get mad at their dad, let alone over me of all people.

Tai: (Takes a Sip of his Lemonade) I dunno. You seem like a pretty lovable guy for people to protect and fight tooth and nail over.

Oscar: That's true. I can't begin to tell you how many legs Nora broken trying to kept me from getting killed in battle......

Tai: (Chuckles Lightly) Is that right? I take it her and Pyrrha playing the mother hens these days?

Oscar: Yep. They can be a bit much at times, but I still love 'em regardless. Jaune and Ren too. They're all are amazing to have around.

Tai: Good! I'm happy life been treating you a whole lot better these days, especially after all the crap you all had to endure.

Oscar: ('Sighs Heavily') You said it. To this day, it still surprises how far I've come to here, with and without Ozpin's help.

Tai: You ever missed having him around?

Oscar: Sometimes. We never see eye-to-eye in a few instances, but it was nice to have him around inside my head until the very end, especially when we're both at the lowest we've been in our lives.

Tai: (Smiles Softly) I'm glad you two got along throughout all of it. That man has been a tortured soul for as long as i knew him, which made sense to me why he doesn't trust people as easily as either of us do these days.

Oscar: ('Sigh') Yeah, that's been a century issue believe it or not. B-But he had gotten better at it overtime! Even more so when everyone stop being angry and gave him one more chance, despite their trust in him weren't the same as it was before. (Sighs Once More) But regardless, I'm just glad he's finally resting in peace now.

Tai (Happily Nodded in Agreement) As he should.

Oscar and Taiyang raise their glasses of lemonade towards one another before taking another sip of their respective drinks.

Tai: ('Sighs Relaxingly') You know, Ruby's been talking about you quite a lot these days.

Oscar: She has?

Tai: Yeah. Way before you two started dating. I mean, she talks a lot about her and your friends as well, but....not exactly in a way she does on you, if you catch my drift.

Oscar: I- (Raises an Eyebrow a Bit in Confusion) think so?

Tai: Like, how happy you've made her and how you've inspired her to better herself as huntress and person and what have you.

Oscar: Ohhh! Okay, gotcha. (Chuckles a But Before Rubbing The Back of his Head and Putting on a More Sheepish Smile) I honestly feel like she inspired me a lot more if anything. Can't imagine what my life would've been like if Oz didn't convinced me to go meet her and the others in Mistral.......

Tai: (Casually Shrugs) I'm sure you two would've met under different circumstances. (Smiles Brightly) Even then, there wouldn't be any doubt in my mind that you two would be a perfect match for one another.

Oscar: (Stares at Taiyang For a Brief Second Before Happily Bowing his Head to Him) Thank you, sir. I'm not as strong as Ruby, at least when it comes to combat, but I promise I'll continue to keep her safe.

Tai: You don't have to the strongest in the globe to try and look after her, yoi know? You're a team, partners in crime busting. You really think Ruby gonna let you fight on your own at your very lowest?

Oscar: No, she would beat 'em down in a bloody pulp if anyone dares lay a finger on me. Her words.

Tai: (Burst Out Laughing) Exactly! She'll always have your back and you'll always have hers, even when she'll propose to you on the spot one of these days!

Oscar: Pretty sure that's too early to- Wait. (Raises an Eyebrow Again) You think Ruby will propose before me?

Tai: (Forms a Cheeky Grin) I believe so, yes~ Girl's loves you way too much not to at this point. Especially since she takes under her mother, Summer.

Oscar: She proposed to you in the past?

Tai: Oh yeah. Night out under the stars, in the middle of the forest. (Starts Snickering) She quickly swept me off my feet and kissed me the very moment I said "Yes". That was like the most romantic thing she'd done yet!

Oscar: (Chuckles Lightly) Oho she is definitely Ruby's mom alright.

Tai: What? She swepts you off your feet too?

Oscar: More times than I can could.

'Door Opens'

WE'RE HOOOOOOME!~

Oscar: (Sighs as He and Tai Turns to See Two Very Familiar Faces Entering the Room) Speaking of which.......

Tai: (Smiles Brightly at his Two Daughters, Ruby and Yang) Hey there, ladies! How was your mini patrol today?

Yang: (Rolls her Eyes a Bit) As uneventfully time wasting as you can imagine.

Ruby: Yeah, they weren't any sight of Grimm anywhere so they let us come back home early. Which is great- (Rushes Over and Hugs Oscar Very Lovingly) Cause we missed you like crazy, honey!~

Yang: (Gently Ruffles the Top of Oscar's Hair With a Bright Smile) Hope you and dad had a great time at home together today. He wasn't boring you too much, was he?

Oscar: Nah. Not really. He was cool enough to make us both lemonade after I helped him take care of his garden and whatnot.

Tai: (Forms Another Cheeky Grin) I'm a good company in his eyes. Possibly better you girls are.

Yang: ('Playfully Scoffs') Please. I'm a FAR more funner company for him than you'll be, old man.

Ruby: (Starts Pouting at her Sister and Father) Um hello! Girlfriend in the room! I'm clearly the most superior company he ever has around here!~

Yang: Over Nora? I don't believe it.

Tai: Yeah, that kind seems far fetched there, kiddo.

Ruby: (Comically Glares at the Two) IS NOT!!

Oscar: Guys, guys, you ALL are amazing company to me. Now cool already.

Yang: (Points at Ruby) I will once she's brave enough to pop the question~

Ruby: (Turns to Yang) Hey! I'll put a ring on his finger one of these days, quit rushing me!!

Tai: (Watches the Girls Bicker Along with a Flustered Oscar) Well, whaddya know? (Gives Oscar a Bit of a Cocky Like Smirk) I was right on the money this hole-time~

'Bada Tssssss'

Oscar: (Gives his Future Father in Law a Deadpinned Look) Don't start. (Turns Back to his Girlfriend) Hey Ruby, I have a surprise to give you if you shimmer down a bit.

Ruby: (Growling at Tongue Sticked Out Yang Before Quickly Turning Back to Oscar) ('Gasps') You do? Truly?

Oscar: Yeah. (Gets Himself Up From his Seat) It's not much, but consider this a token for your hardwork as a huntress- (Gives Ruby a Kiss on the Cheek Before Turning Away, Blushing and Smiling a Little) As well as being the best girlfriend I could ever ask for~

Yang: (Clasps her Hands Together in Awe) Awwww~ That's so sweet~

Tai: (Chuckles Lightly) And very gentleman like!~ That kid's a real keeper, Ruby.

Ruby: (Giggles Softly While Blushing as Well) You darn right he is!~ (Hugs Oscar Again) How bold of you to kiss me in front if my dad like that, Mister Farm Boi!~

Oscar: (Shrugs) Yeah, well, it took every nerve in my body to even think about doing this. Don't expect this to be a recurring thing.

Ruby: Don't worry, I won't. (Forms a Mischievous Grin on her Face) Buuuuuuuuut~

Oscar: Oh god, what is it?

Ruby: Given that you've been so kind as to bond and help my dad with gardening, I think it's right that I return a favor, no?~

Oscar: Yeah, sure, if that's what you wanna- DO!? (Immediately Gets Swept Off His Feet by Ruby)

Ruby: (Happily Carrying Oscar in a Bridal Carry) Of course!~ (Looks Down at Oscar With a More Flirtatious Smirk on her Face) Now brace yourself and plucked up~ (Ignite her Kissy Fury Upon Oscar's Freckled Face)

Oscar: (Chuckles Ticklishly by Ruby's Love and Affection) Rubyhehehe!~ Not in front of your familyhe!~

Yang: (Let's Out a Bit of a Playful Grossed Out Noise While Watching the Couple's Antics Along with Her Father) ('Ugh') Young love.

Tai: (Smirks at Yang) Oh and like you haven't done the same to Blake.

Yang: Hey, at least we had the common decency to do it closed doors. Those two have no shame at all!

Tai: Just like your mother and I~

Yang: Summer or Raven?

Tai: ...............Yes.

Yang: (Sighs While Rolling her Eyes) Barf.

Tai: Hey, you asked!

Yang: And I'm regretting it as we speak! (Turns Back to Taiyang) Get off my freaking back!!

Tai: Twerp!

Yang: Old Fart!

Tai and Yang glare at each other for a few seconds before they start breaking down laughing.

Yang: ('Sigh') But no seriously though, dad. I'm glad you like Oscar.

Tai: (Smiles Softly as He Wrap his Arm Around his Elder Daughter's Arm) I am too, Yang. He's a really good kid and so long as he keeps my girl happy, that's good enough for me. Though I do wish he would appericate my puns a lot more. I'm getting desperate here.

Yang: (Gently Pats her Dad on the Back) He'll come around to them eventually.

Happy Father's Day!!!

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@bestpony666

@maripr

@rwbyrosegardenweek

[visiblenostalgia]

🥱The POST-Aries Eclipse…😑✨

月曜日。8日4月2024年

19° Aries: (Libra Degree) from [Sabian Symbologist],

“Only Your Soul Knows For Sure”

“…a symbol of periodic expansion of man’s freedom of spirit and soul through his widely winging interest far removed from his normal promise,” What comes from this understanding yourself before understanding others. Being YOURSELF in the CROWD. A standout.

However, they even state that detaching too much (dissociation) may lead to “scorn” from responsibilities. Healthy detachment is okay. Just be careful to dissociate yourself from everything. Feeling too much of nothing can STILL be feeling something.

(More of my experiences under the cut)

It’s like ever since this eclipse on Monday the 8th, the energy around me has been much more light and open to my energy. Like I can move on and get stuff done. I no longer feel hunkered down as I feel like I can let grudges, bygones, fucked interactions with people (mind the Aries Mercury retrograde) and forgetfulness go.

Not to mention that when I just look forward and keep on keeping on, do I “breathe in” revitalizing energy. I feel like I can take in something new as my friends and career shift to both of what’s needed of me and what are my desires.

Another thing to note was the Eclipse occurred right on my 11th house cusp. If I could call it my Secondhand Midhaven I would. My SM. Cause that’s made my work and creative life so much more passionate and enjoyable. All because of letting things, emotions, and people that did not suit me at all….go.

It feels like that first rainy day after a long brutal heatwave. I can finally feel at ease and hop onto my work.

Extra little notes of what my latest experiences were like:

I started roleplays that go episode by episode in a show and we’ve been doing our own spins on it (creative juices a’flowing babyyyyy)

Spiritual downloads of ideologies that currently don’t exist but may come these next few decades. Something aligned with (again,) Creativity, Chaos, Common Knowledge, Sensibility, Laughter, Understanding divine timing…. TRUE Healing too (not running away or asking too much from therapy. Cause if you’re not growing yourself day by day (of course with a little advice but not too much to over rely) there’s no way).

Just being around friends who understand me. Being around people who are just here for a good time. Fighting only takes so much out of the human spirit. Gotta remember that night will hit and the hay needs someone to rest against it.

Some music I found that matched what it feels like coming out of that eclipse.

This one mainly being the sole reason why I love my state (and how lucky we are to get totality even if it was cloudy as fuck. PEOPLE STILL GOT TOGETHER TO HANG OUT)

I salute to you Texas. May the lone star state shine forever in our proud favor.

I’ve also dabbled in more Nu Metal because of the crazy war vibes from Aries alone.

Another song from Cowboy Carter that just makes me feel so ready to jump out there and smile:

😵‍💫Pre-Solar: in between…🤬

金曜日。5日4月2024年

Now that I think more on some stuff:

This is a side track where it was IN-BETWEEN the two eclipses from Libra Lunar and Aries Solar.

I saw The First Omen and good god did it make me feel the uncomfortableness of it all within that eclipse cycle. It scared me five times not gonna lie. And I haven’t cringed harder than I have since then.

What surprised me was that the Astrology for WHEN EXACTLY I went also lined up with something.

Moon (Emotions/Feelings) conjunct with Mars (Intensity/Drive) and Saturn (Structure/Discipline + Nihilism/Realism). Saturn tends to put pressure on systems it seems unfit or not suitable for the others around. A “YOU BEST GIT YOUR ACT TOGETHER” energy. ESPECIALLY WITH MARS. Not to mention Pisces rules religious beliefs and ideologies that are overwhelmingly large and complex. Combining all four……also added onto the fact that said movie watched was The First Omen…

It made me understand something….

That movie was about Religious Dogmatism and you couldn’t tell me otherwise! (Do tell me otherwise LMAO)

🐟🔥🪐

Much love to the astrology community guys. Hope you guys have been eating well and doing your best to protect your energy cause the world wants to bring yours down every day no matter what form.

🫶

[sikyurame]

🌧️ for Donro

This is cheating, but all I have is this wip I’ve been working on since…August? 👀

Takes places in the reboot universe, Gyro and Donald have a chat about their past relationship while it rains

—

After a week long heatwave, the weather started to cool in Duckburg as rain finally showered the city. Images of fuzzy buildings and citizens reflected off the streets and sidewalks.

Along the outskirts, was a house filled to the brim with gadgets and gizmos, some strewn about the yard or on the house itself. At the front of the house, sat a duck and a rooster chatting away underneath the roof that kept them dry from the light drizzle.

“You really tried to test Mrs. Beakley? Of all people?” Gyro wheezed, as he rubbed a tear from his eye, “Why!?”

“Because she set so many rules when we first moved in!” Donald stated, “I’m sure you would’ve done the same thing if you were in my place!”

“Donald please, I’ve known her for a decade now. I would never try to test that woman’s patience. I value my life, thank you very much.”

The duck grumbled, “Still, I appreciate her not breathing down my neck every time I did something.”

“You doofus, isn’t she the caretaker of Scrooge’s mansion? It’s pretty much her job,” Gyro replied before covering his beak in an attempt to hide his snickers.

Donald’s eye twitched, but after a few seconds he released his tension and joined in his friend’s laughter. Who was he kidding? He was a walking safety hazard when he first moved back into Scrooge’s mansion.

Not a moment sooner, the drizzle started to pick up a bit, causing Gyro to yelp as he pulled his legs up on the porch as the rain began seep through his pants. The inventor let out an irritated groan.

“I gotta get an umbrella,” Gyro announced as he walked to the front door, “I’ll be back in a bit, do NOT touch anything while I’m gone.”

“Aye-aye boss man,” Donald saluted. He was well aware of the severity of the warning, Gyro had a habit of leaving all his incomplete projects outside his workshop, and the duck didn’t want to see the results of what could happen if they weren’t handled properly.

With Gyro now out of sight, Donald gazed up at the large gray cloud blanketing the sky. His mind began to wander as he felt droplets of rain land against his beak.

It had been a long time since he got to hang out with the scientist. But after all that happened in the span of a decade, Donald could see why the long pause. Ever since that fateful day when he stormed out of McDuck Mansion after the incident, he had cut off contact with everyone.

Scrooge. Beakley. Duckworth….

And Gyro.

Nowadays it seemed outlandish, but once upon a time Donald remembered having a close relationship with Gyro since childhood. They were like two peas in a pod, and eventually that friendship blossomed into something more.

Donald tapped his fingers on the wood below as he closed his eyes, remembering those intimate moments: their first kiss, their first date at funzos, and all those late night phone calls.

All those cherished memories, were just that memories. Now here they are, years later and barely hanging out again.

/////You should be happy. At least you guys are trying to reconnect again. Isn’t that great?/////

/////No I’m not.///// Donald answered himself.

“Aha, I knew I’d find it!”

Donald nearly jumped at the sudden yell. He shifted his head to catch Gyro jumping out of his house with a rather small device in his hand.

“What the heck is that?” Donald questioned.

“My umbrella of course!”

“Gyro, no offense, but that looks more like a wand then an umbrella.”

“Hmph! To simpletons like you! Feist your eyes on my latest invention, UMtron! With a simple flick of your wrist, the wand turns into an umbrella!” Gyro explained as a compartment opened revealing the umbrella folds.

“Alrighty, not anything I’d call impressive,” Donald said unamusingly.

“The disrespect. BEHOLD, for it can also substitute as a popcorn maker. Now, hold out your hands and BE AMAZED,” Gyro announced before pressing a button.

Donald watched as a tube came out from underneath the umbrella fabric. Intrigued, the duck held out his hands and with another button press, popcorn spilled into his palms.

“Alright, that’s pretty impressive,” Donald chuckled as he took a bite of the popcorn, “Is butter the only flavor?”

“Ick, must you insult me? There are about thirty different popcorn flavors programmed in here.”

“…thirty?”

“Yes thirty, oh my god you’re as shocked as Boyd and Newton when I showed them the first time.”

Donald was about to question further, but decided to snap his beak shut. He’s learned not to question Gyro about the “quirks” with his inventions.

However, Donald did think about something else to ask, “Cool, but how long until this one eventually swears allegiance to the dark side.”

“YOU WOU—I will ignore that and accept your half hearted praise,” Gyro hummed before sitting back down on the porch steps with his umbrella in hand. With another button press, popcorn spilled onto his own hand.

“Why popcorn though?” Donald asked as he popped another kernel into his beak.

“Why not popcorn?” Gyro shrugged, “Why not ALL the popcorn?”

“I MEANT why specifically popcorn coming from the tube. I would expect something like black licorice, especially from you,” Donald replied with an eyeroll.

Gyro shrugged again before shoving the rest of the kernels into his beak, “Didn’t feel like it.”

Donald couldn’t help but snort at that reply as he gave the rooster a light shove.

Such a typical Gyro answer.

Soon the two fell into silence once more as the rain filled in the noise. Donald threw kernels into his beak while Gyro sat quietly underneath his umbrella, the rooster’s gaze lingered down to a puddle below his shoe.

It felt soothing, perfect almost.

Almost.

Upon finishing his snack, Donald turned his attention to Gyro who was busy lightly tapping his shoe on the puddle.

Donald wanted to speak about his prior thoughts, but he hesitated. He wasn’t sure how receptive Gyro would be if he brought up the past.

He had just gotten his best friend back, would it really be worth risking Gyro just because he decided to indulge in the past? The more he thought about it, the more he realized how tough this was.

“…you okay?” Gyro asked.

“Uhh,” Donald said his brain still in autopilot.

Gyro rolled his eyes before poking at Donald’s forehead, “Are you okay? You’re just staring at me, and I find that a little creepy.”

“Oh sorry,” Donald paused, “I just have a lot on my mind at the moment.”

Gyro frowned, “…You wanna talk about it?”

“I want too…but also not.”

“Sounds conflicting, maybe you should just say.”

“Yeah, but…there’s something I have to speak up about that I just don’t want too.”

“Like what?”

“Um…”

“…Does it involve me?”

“…No.”

Gyro raised his eyebrows, his eyelids half lidded with an unamused stare directed at Donald.

“Okay, yes it involves you, but I don’t want to…y’know share too much about it.”

“…well that’s pretty unhelpful. If it’s about me, then I have the right to hear everything about whatever it is your so worried about, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Then say it.”

Donald hesitated. His next move could easily make or break whatever bond he had managed to forge with the man next to him, and that was a bridge he wasn’t sure if he wanted to burn again.

//Well, there’s only one way to find out…// Donald panicked inwardly as he took a breath.

“It’s about us,” the duck stated as he turned his head toward the inventor next to him.

Gyro stared in confusion before fixing his glasses, “What about us?”

“The past, Gyro.”

“The past? What are you trying to tell m—oh,” Gyro cut himself off as he realized what the duck was alluding at, “Well leave it be then, we’re passed that point.”

“What do you mean?”

Gyro sighed, “Means, I’m having second thoughts about offering to listen.”

Yeah that was the exact response Donald was nervous about. He couldn’t fault Gyro in his change of tone.

But for some reason, Donald still wanted to push the subject further.

“Yeah but, I feel like we need to clear it up and—“

Gyro snorted, “There’s nothing to clear up. It didn’t work out, so we broke it off. Let’s move on.”

At this point, the rain picked up speed, now it was a downpour. Puddles splashed below from contact from fallen droplets. The pitter-patter now echoing the sound of people clapping.

Donald frowned. Gyro always had a habit of being blunt about things, but this made their past relationship sound like a disaster rather than what it actually was.

“Gyro, you know that’s not true.”

“…Like I said, let’s not bring it up.”

“I know you don’t want to speak of it—“

“As I’ve boldly repeated a few times now.”

“—But Gyro, I think it’s time that we have a chat about—“

“No, we don’t.”

“Gyro, don’t do this.”

“I’m not doing anything, you’re the one that’s pushing this!”

“Gyro, please. Our relationship wasn’t going downhill—“

“Then, why’d you say it when you dumped me in the middle of my GODDAMN INTERNSHIP!”

The outburst was sudden. Donald nearly fell over from the sheer volume of Gyro’s voice. He knew bringing up their past was a sensitive topic, but he wasn’t expecting such an angry yell.

After a few seconds, realization dawned upon Gyro as the rooster managed to pick up what had just happened. Horror filled his eyeballs. Gyro could feel tears running down his cheeks, his body shook, as his grip tightened on the umbrella The rooster scrambled to pull himself back together in a vain attempt.

“N-no I…I mean…I’m n-not…ugh,” Gyro stuttered. It was an involuntary reaction, a tone he used to carry back in his younger years, something he thought he’d left in the past.

Gyro felt Donald’s hand on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and turned his head in the other direction. The last thing he needed was Donald laughing at him for falling back into his old pathetic speech pattern.

However to his surprise, that didn’t happen. No, not at all, instead Donald patted his shoulder, and with a soothing tone the duck told him too, “Take a deep breath.”

“H-huh?”

“Take a deep breath.”

“But…”

“Just take a deep breath, okay?”

There was a few seconds of silence before Gyro finally nodded back and closed his eyes. Slowly inhaled a chunk of air, and soon after he exhaled that chunk out before repeating the action a few more times.

Little by little, Gyro felt the stress leave his body with every exhale.

Confident that his panic had ceased, Gyro reopened his eyes, he looked over to Donald who had a small smile on his beak.

The duck lightly patted the inventor’s back, “There, better now?”

“Yeah,” Gyro shrugged, “I…apologize I didn’t mean for any of that, especially the uh—whole thing I yelled.”

“It’s fine,” Donald shrugged as he scooted closer, “It’s not your fault, I kind of forced it on you.”

“Yeah, you did. Granted, me trying to dodge the question probably didn’t help,” Gyro grimaced, with a slight hint of embarrasment in his tone.

Donald gave him a cheeky smile, in an attempt to lighten the mood the duck responded back with, “Aww, is that regret I hear?”

Gyro said nothing instead giving the duck an amused stare.

[arandomaquarius]

“Concussive Sound” Pt. 1

TW: Implied Car Accident, Injury, Vomit (brief but it’s there), Panic Attack, Concussions, Swearing/Cursing, Not Proofread

Summary: Piper gets a concussion. That’s it. That’s the summary :/

Characters: Captain Cold, Heatwave, Trickster I, Mirror Master I, Captain Boomerang I, Pied Piper

A/N: this does not follow any canon. Some characters may be ooc, please be nice this is my first time writing these characters. Constructive criticism is welcome. P.s. I am aware this is exaggerated hearing loss from a concussion. I just wanted to write Piper with a concussion based loosely on my experience but I’ve been meaning to write his reaction to suddenly losing his hearing for an amount of time. I decided to kill two birds with one stone :/

~Text under the cut~

“Why can’t we travel by mirrors again?” Sam complains for about the fifth time today. Piper rolls his eyes from where he’s sat in the back.

“Because, Sam, it’s not that far, and traveling by mirror makes the rest of us sick. Now shut up,” Len snaps from the passenger seat. “Take a left here and continue ‘til ya get to a four-way intersection,” he adds, directing Mick where to go.

Beside Piper sits JJ, who’s currently turned around in his seat to annoy Digger with puppets. Digger and Sam are purposely put in the very back, where they can’t bother Len (mostly).

“C’mon Sammy, cheer up!” James mocks in a high-pitched voice while animatedly moving a Trickster hand puppet in Sam’s face.

Sam shoves the puppet harshly, causing a saddened squeak to come from the mini Trickster. It deflates in on itself, and James pouts at the brunette. “Well, ya don’t gotta be so rude!” He huffs and cradles the puppet to his face.

Len turns around angrily, “Jesse! Turn around, put your damn seatbelt on, and shut your trap!”

James slinks down in his seat sullenly, arms crossed and face scrunched up as he sticks his tongue out. He looks like the epitome of a five-year-old pouting.

“Someone’s not very good at keeping their cool,” he mutters under his breath.

Again, Piper rolls his eyes at his companions’ antics, this time with a repressed smile. He pulls out his phone and switches the song to something else. No one complains. They don’t complain because they all know they’d have to fight Piper. If Piper is in the vehicle, he chooses the music, end of story.

He stashes his phone back in his hoodie pocket as “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone plays through the car speakers.

They’re stopped at the four-way intersection by a flashing red light. Mick looks both ways before going to turn left.

There’s a loud sound coming towards them before the world jerks and whirls around. The sounds of breaking glass, airbags activating, and screaming surround Piper. His head slams against the door.

.

.

.

Piper shrugs the hand off his shoulder. It returns and continues to lightly hit him. He shrugs it off a few more times before realizing it won’t go away.

Piper huffs and squints his eyes open. Light immediately assaults him, and he winces noiselessly as he shuts his eyes again. He pushes himself up from his leaning position against the door.

Everything hurts: his head; his eyes; his sides. Only his ears didn't hurt, strangely.

Carefully, Piper squints his eyes open. He has to open them more to see the figure trying to get his attention. It was James, sky-blue eyes wide and hair disheveled.

His mouth is moving quickly, but no sound is coming out. Piper’s brows furrow in confusion. He opens his mouth to speak to James and ask what he is saying.

No sound comes out.

Piper worriedly swallows and tries again.

Still no sound.

Piper brings a hand to his throat and tries to speak. It takes a few futile attempts, but he can feel the vibrations through his throat indicating that he is making noise.

But he can’t hear it.

Piper locks eyes with James, seeing his own panic reflected in those blue eyes. Piper reaches up to his ears. There’s nothing to indicate they bled.

It’s getting difficult to breathe now. The world feels like it’s spinning again, and Piper’s head throbs painfully. Everything is too bright. Everything is too silent.

The van feels like it’s closing in on him, and he presses his hands against the seats to steady himself.

Piper looks around for the door handle. He fumbles with it and falls out of the SUV. Piper pulls himself up and almost falls over when he stands. He shakes his head to clear the nausea away.

Piper looks around dazedly. There’s bright lights of emergency service vehicles. Piper shields his eyes with his arm and steps back.

There’s a man in front of him (when did he get there?). He’s wearing dark blue (like a police officer) and teal gloves. His mouth is moving, not as fast as James’ was, but Piper still can’t tell what he’s saying.

The world sways and the man becomes distant, despite not moving.

Piper’s surrounded by bricks. The nausea returns full force when Piper meets the concrete ground.

His body shakes as he empties his stomach on the alleyway floor. Black spots dance in his vision as he lays on the filthy ground.

Piper’s mind feels fuzzy. His limbs feel like lead. Even breathing hurts.

He can’t even remember how he got here, wherever “here” was. What had happened before? He vaguely remembers the car ride with the Rogues.

The Rogues.

He left them. They’re going to be pissed at him for managing to get himself in this position. Especially Len; for a man going by the alias “Captain Cold” he isn’t cold-hearted. In fact, he’s quite the opposite at times.

The world is soothingly dark, and without noise, it’s easy to slip into unconsciousness.

.

.

.

Piper isn’t sure what wakes him. He does know that he’s in a different place than he was. Instead of cold concrete, there’s a worn and squishy surface underneath him. It seems familiar, but opening his eyes feels like too much of an effort.

So instead, Piper does what he normally does: he listens. But there are no sounds to listen to. Not even his own breathing and heartbeat can be heard.

It’s such a long forgotten feeling, waking up to silence. He feels disconnected from reality, like he’s in some kind of surreal dream. Like he is underwater and floating in nothingness all at the same time. It makes his skin crawl.

Begrudgingly, Piper opens his eyes. He’s pleasantly surprised when darkness greets him instead of searing light. In the dim light, Piper recognizes where he is: the Rogues’ safehouse.

He was here this morning- or at least, he was here before he left with the others. Before the car ride.

Piper carefully sits up. He’s on the only mattress in the building, covered with a fleece blanket. He is still wearing his civvies.

He throws the blanket off and goes to stand. He wobbles, but he doesn’t fall. His body aches horrendously, but he doesn’t want to be alone, so he forces himself to search the warehouse for someone.

Piper spots light coming from under a door. He quietly (at least, he thinks he’s being quiet; it’s kinda hard to tell when you can’t exactly hear) pads over to the door. Immediately, he has to resist the instinct to tilt his head to hear what’s happening on the other side.

He takes a deep breath before turning the handle and opening the door.

Regret is the first thing Piper feels when bright lights cause him to shield his face from their attack. The second is large hands guiding him to a chair.

Warily, he unshields his face and forces himself to look at whichever Rogue is in front of him. He’s surprised to see more than one crowding around him.

Len, Sam, James, and Mick are all standing around Piper. He assumes Mick is the one who guided him to a sitting position, as he is the closest and has a steadying hand on Piper’s arm.

Before he can think to ask questions, a light is shining in his eyes. He goes to look away only to have someone firmly grasp his jaw. As quickly as the light appeared, it leaves.

Piper has to blink a few times to be able to see properly again. The hand on his jaw is snapping in front of him, and Piper follows its motions. The snapping stops and Len crouches down to Piper’s eye level.

Len speaks. Or, at least, his mouth is moving, and Piper just has to assume that Len is, in fact, speaking at him.

Piper squints at Len’s moving lips. It makes his head hurt too much and he gives up before he can play the guessing game of lip-reading.

He slumps in the chair, tired and confused. It must be some sort of signal to the others, because they back up.

He couldn’t hear. He had lost his hearing.

[pom-seedss]

For the first time since the pandemic started I have buzzed my hair back down. 15mm all round with plans to grow the top out a bit so I can swoosh it up.

We don’t have AC anymore, so anything trapping heat to my head had to go as I heard of the upcoming heatwave. But also I’d been kind of fussing with it a lot and getting a lot of sensory badness.

What started as an experiment to see how long I could grow my hair in a year when the pandemic started, because no one would see me through those awkward stages anyway, turned into three years of having at least a section of my hair long. Gotta say, I didn’t realize how much I missed stimming by fwiping my buzzed hair.

[clubsmarties]

She nodded and smiled proudly. "Yes you did baby. I had no doubts, well maybe one or two but never mind that now. I'm now wondering which time it was that did it. The one before you got all weird and nervous or when you were actually enjoying it." She stayed quiet as her deep chocolate eyes stared at the love of her life about to transform into the role he was meant to have. A dad. Her fingertips grazed over his knuckles and smiked softly as she wiped under his eyes. "Our little nugget is going to have the best thing on this planet. You as their dad. A whole lot of love." The talk of nugget now had her craving chicken nuggets. "Would it be considered weird if I told you I was craving chicken nuggets with all this talk of nugget?"

Narrowing her eyes she chuckled. "I like the way you think. I am grateful for that. With little nugget and a heatwave I don't think I'd be very fun to be around." Her crankiness would kick into high drive no doubt. "Late August. I like that." There was a flicker of hope that spread over her features at the thought of Europe. San Francisco was home and it had been since she could walk but something about getting a fresh start somewhere else was exciting. She wouldn't have mentioned it if she didn't have more than enough to cooperate. She didn't want Aaron to blow all their savings on this if it were to happen.

"Then it'll be my turn to help calm your fears. What if we have a girl? Are you ready for a girl?" Jolie asked but knew the answer to that. He was ready for either one. If a boy then he'd have the best qualities and if a girl she'd get the true meaning of unconditional love. "I gotta say your confidence is really sexy right now."

"Aarão is the Portuguese version of Aaron and we can call him Ronnie for short. Ronnie Contreras." Jolie tested it out and how it rolled off her tongue. Their kid was gonna a melting pot of DNA and that was something that excited her. Their baby wasn't going to fit a boring mold. "I like that."

Her hand went to caress through his hair now that he was closer. "Our first wedding will always be my favorite but now we can make it better and not overwork the groom." she chuckled remembering how he'd run around when he was supposed to be relaxing. A snort escaped her as he talked about her friend. "Or friends who had sex and thought nothing of it." Laurel had a funny way to justify things when it came to Eli. "If it wasn't for me they'd still be playing in that game of will they or won't they. Marriage spooks them I think. More so Laurel but that I can understand given her family history. Though, I also think it may be the case of when she couldn't let herself jump in with him before. Maybe we should bring them with so they can see for themselves wedding stuff isn't scary. You can talk to Eli. Cement more of your friendship."

She laughed and shook her head. "Silly papa. Maybe you can share your pinterest board. Do you think he'd take us on it we were to say yes so late in the game? You can charm him too if he's booked." Hunger really did become her focus in the moment. "But really. Can you get me some chicken nuggets and fries or maybe a shake too?"

The memories could not be helped when she pointed out he did most of the work, causing a mischievous grin to spread on his lips. "I gladly did the work," was all he said. Aaron knew this was an effort on both of their parts, and this was only step one. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Aaron knew he would be a dad. The news were being processed in his mind, but he knew. Still, his own silent confirmation didn't compare to the feeling of hearing it come from her lips and to feel her guide his hand to her stomach. Hearing her say it felt unlike anything else. His eyes quickly welled up with tears, and when he smiled, a few quickly trailed down his cheek. "We're going to be parents, to our little nugget. We did it."

He watched in awe as she eagerly jumped to their wedding plans. Aaron knew that she'd need something to plan, and they had so many different places to start, but little nugget still had some time before they needed to plan. He was glad that she quickly took his ideas and ran with them. "Well, you know heatwaves are kind of fake up here." Not like Southern California. "Wouldn't be competition if we completely outdo her anniversary," he teased. Though, he wouldn't dream of ruffling any feathers with her family. "We could probably make late August work, give us some time." Aaron tilted her head slightly when she mentioned Europe. He hadn't considered the thought of leaving the state, let alone the country. "Honestly, these days - a move and a new place in Europe might be costing around the same or less, for a place here. I'm not saying no." If she really wanted that, he could do it. He'd really do, just about anything, for her.

His hand was still resting on her stomach from earlier, but he couldn't bring himself to move away. Aaron already had an inkling that he'd be clingy for the next nine months. "You're definitely not crazy, these are all valid concerns. Watch me freak out in a couple of weeks, some kind of delayed reaction. You'll hear the same concerns from me," he teased in an attempt to soothe her further. "A little boy, Aaron Jr.? I like the sound of that." It was highly unlikely he'd want to pass on his own name, but a miniature version of him sounded cute. The thought of their child inheriting her qualities made him smile, he'd be the luckiest boy. "Oh, and if gets your bossy nature, we'll definitely have an all hands on deck situation. I'm 99.9% confident that we will be ready." That was a case of overconfidence for sure, as well as just ensuring she didn't feel more stressed than necessary. "We're not alone in this, we'll have our families once we tell them, and our friends. So, I'm sure we'll be ready by the time they arrive."

Aaron rested his head on her shoulder, smiling as ideas began flying around. "I agree. We deserve something nice. Not that our first wedding wasn't nice, but we were so young...and very broke. Lot of budget cuts and DIY, if I remember correctly. It was great though, I loved our creativity with that one." That one, he'd always hold close to his heart. "Oh baby, I think that might be one you don't win. I mean, we're going on our second wedding, and those two are still stunned whenever the word marriage comes up. Maybe it's just not for them. Then again, maybe they do need a nudge. If it wasn't for you, those two would probably still be friends and..or...roommates?" Perhaps, they just needed to plan the whole thing for them and do a surprise party but for their own wedding. But, he wouldn't suggest it to Jolie because she just might go for it.

It was impossible to say no to her, not when her eyes lit up with excitement like that. When he suggested planning their second wedding, he didn't think of an event coordinator. Aaron really thought he'd be taking that role. But, she was happy and not having a meltdown about their life change, so he'd make it happen. "Hm, I'll be the judge of these beautiful weddings he plans, but only because I had my Pinterest board ready," he joked. "I see no downside in reaching out. We should probably do that today, make sure he's not booked. If we want to make this happen by August or September. What do you think? We could even go down there this weekend, for research purposes of course."

[midnghtprentiss]

this is for him - s.h

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader 

little bit of angst  (sorry) 

pronouns used are she/her

a/n: let’s pretend that afterglow and red  are NOT from taylor swift and were released in the 90s.  thinking of doing a part 2 of this one. 

summary: after the reader become a successful singer she come back to a gig in Hawkins seeing her ex - steve harrington and sing a few songs for him. 1.4k. 

The whole city was talking about you for months and how they were excited to see you perform in the town you were borned and raised in. Even Eddie, who personally thinks your songs are too cheesy. Max, Eddie and Dustin made a few shirts to welcome you home while Nancy and El made some chocolate chip cookies. Mike, Lucas and Will were hanging balloons around Joyce’s while Jonathan and Robin took pictures. Steve was nervous, he was terrified of seeing you again after the (bad) break up. Everyone assures him that it was fine, he doesn't have anything to be worried or afraid of. 

Everyone lights up when Hopper’s car stopped in the garage and a few excited noises were heard and when the door was open you smiled at everyone and even cried a little bit. God, how good it was to be home. 

‘You guys! You didn’t have to do it, seriously!’’ They look at you for a second before everyone but Steve puts you in a tight hug. 

‘’You smell like fancy perfume!’’ Max shouts, making everyone laugh. 

‘’I brought a few gifts for everyone and I’ll give them soon as eat these cookies because the smell is amazing.’’ 

You looked at Steve and gave you a nod. He was different, his hair was bigger and he aged so well for a few months. He looked good and for a second he looked like Steve from your happy memories and dreams. 

After everyone talked enough you decided it was time for the gifts and all that crap. For Max you brought a Kate Bush sign record (she cried). Dustin, Mike and Eddie got a few DnD costumes you saw at a place and thought of them at the moment. For Will you get a few art collections from Rome. Lucas received a Michael Jordan shirt. Jonathan got a new camera. Robin got a Blondie collection and Nancy got her books from Italy. You let Steve's last. 

‘’When we dated you told me that you wanted a picture in every place I think is special  so I made you an album and I wrote why these places were special. You don't need to keep it, but yeah,’’ Everyone has their eyes on you. 

‘’Thanks.’’ He said really low and you shake your head walking away. 

‘’Guys I gotta go, tomorrow is my big day. I left your credentials with Joyce. See you tomorrow.’’ You said goodbye quickly and got out. 

Steve was still in shock. He couldn’t believe you remember what he told you almost two years ago but there he was holding a self made gift from you. The love of his life and his ex-girlfriend. He was so screwed. His heart was racing and he felt like passing out any minute.

The concert day was filled with anxiety and nervous breakdowns. Hawkins was your home you can not mess up. You looked in the mirror for a thousand times just to make sure you dress up cool enough. You were wearing a blue glitter dress with a white all star and a purple leather jacket. Every time someone from the production passed by you it was like a heatwave passing by. 

‘’We are ready.’’ Amanda, your assistant, tell you before making your way till the stage. ‘’You got this.’’

In the moment the lights went out you walked by the stage staying in the center. Once the lights flashed again you smiled singing the first parts of the song. 

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead-end street

Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly

Your eyes passed around the people and you could recognize a few of them. The people you grew up with and they didn’t remember your name. Now they do. 

Loving him is like trying to change your mind once you're already flying through the free fall

Like the colors in autumn, so bright just before they lose it all

You find him. He was there and smiling wearing a shirt with your face on it. Your heart almost stops when you see it. You imagine he would find something else to do then show up but there he is. The chorus hits harder on everyone making them jump and sing around.

Losing him was blue like I'd never known

Missing him was dark gray, all alone (Whoa)

Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you never met

But loving him was red

You left a giggle out when you see everyone there shaking their heads and laughing with you. There was a nice feeling in that - always pleasing people even when you shouldn't. 

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

Steve was about to pee his pants like a child. He don’t listen to your songs cause it’s too painful but seeing you singing about him was like winning a fucking award. Dustin was all about giggling and making comments on how he looked like a proud boyfriend. 

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head

In burning red

Steve thought about you everyday since you left and that stupid fight was there too. All the damn time. He should come after you and not let you go, what kind of romantic man does that? He never called. He gave up and was sorry about it. 

When the first song finishes you stop close to your microphone speechless and overwhelmed by all the love you recieved. 

‘’Good evening Hawkins. Are you ready to sing and cry a little bit?’’ Everyone screamed and you burst out laughing, ‘’God is amazing to be home. This is the last show of my tour so we are going to make it the best, alright?’’ 

The first few songs were all happy and people were dancing but it was time to an emotional moment. You make your way till the piano siting confortable before doing the first notes of the song.

‘’This song I wrote a few months ago thinking about love and how we sabotage things when we’re too afraid to show it to the people we love and care about. This song is about a fight I caused and I’m sorry that it turned out like that. This is called Afterglow.’’ 

I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue

Put you in jail for something you didn’t do 

The flashbacks hit you harder and your throat dries, almost taking your voice away. 

I pinned your hands behind your back, oh

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

You remember storming out Steve’s house and going somewhere else that was not your house and cry for hours. That was the last time you saw Steve. 

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry 'till it blows up, 'til there’s no us

Steve’s gaze found yours and it hit him like a bullet. 

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say

He smiled lightly and held Joyce cause she knows everything that happens that night. 

 Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

But it's not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

You were sorry and every person in that room knew it. Steve was sorry for how things turned afterall. 

Tell me that you're still mine

Tell me that we'll be just fine

Even when I lose my mind

I need to say

The whole fight was about jealousy and how Steve was pissed because you needed to travel on Valentine’s day. You told him that you couldn’t miss this chance and he said he was no longer important. You remember vividly. 

‘’Steve, this is my fucking dream!’’ 

‘’I am your goddamn boyfriend and you’re choosing everyone but me. You are selfish and I should be with someone who cares and listens to my feelings. We are done now.’’

‘’Oh my god, Harrington. I can’t believe you. They were right. You truly are a jerk.’’ 

Tell me that it's not my fault

Tell me that I'm all you want

Even when I break your heart

Steve was sobbing. He didn’t know what to say but sorry. He was the one who broke your heart by saying things he regretted every day. 

The concert turned out pretty amazing. Everyone was so excited but you cried when you left. You cried when you saw Steve standing there with a smile and a cup of tea. 

‘’We need to talk now.’’

[unprofessional-bard]

Chapter 15 - The Result

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter (TBA)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: smut: oral sex (m! receiving), unprotected sex, joel breeding kink go brrr; talks of depression, anxiety and PTSD, detailed descriptions of bloodshed/death.

Summary: The confrontation the reader had been waiting for finally happens.

Word Count: 5.771

Author's Note: I apologise for the repost y'all!! The chapter didn't appear on the tags and I didn't notice it soon enough!! If this doesn't appear as well...

Enjoy!

The last heatwaves of summer started coming in with full force as September approached– a final storm before the calm. It wasn't completely intolerable, but it still messed with a lot of people: even you and Joel had to stay away from one another during the nights due to the heat making everything more sticky and irritable. It was annoying as hell, given that you had Joel all to yourself for a whole week now.

That certainly didn't stop you two from having sex before his departure, of course.

It took you some time to anchor yourself back to reality after what happened with Ward – the first three days were the worst with the episodes and attacks, but you don't think you could've made it this far in such a short time without Ellie and Joel. This was practically nothing compared to when you had first arrived in Jackson... if you had them both with you when–

Doesn't matter now. It took you months and it wouldn't have mattered if it had taken more– you made it. At the end, you got through it.

You and Joel talked about things, too. A lot of it mostly surrounding Kiki and Ward, of course. Things were cleared out, feelings were gotten off of chests and apologies were made: One day, after going out to get groceries while you chopped some vegetables for dinner, he put the sacks on the counter island and approached you, wrapping his hands around your waist.

"Smells delicious," He murmured into your ear and placed a kiss on your cheek, then put his chin on your shoulder, ever so slowly –with minimal movement– swaying you to the smooth jazz playing in the living room.

"I didn't cook anything yet?" You raised a brow and smiled at the way his beard scratched at the side of your face.

"Didn't mean the food," He whispered and kissed the back of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as you chuckled. He then moved down the line behind your artery, peppering kisses there, each and every single touch of his lips sending a rather pleasant feeling between your legs.

You slowly leaned your head back against his shoulder as he took your hands in his, making you put the knife down and let him sway you to the wordless tune playing in the background.

He eventually stopped when he reached your collarbones and turned you around to face him: "Mrs. Miller..." Your smile grew at the name: "How're you on this fine evenin'?"

"Just fine, Mr. Miller." You grinned and mimicked his accent. He placed one hand on your waist while the other grabbed your hand. He smelled so wonderful and looked so good–

"Would ya fancy a dance, m'lady?" His teeth showed when his smirk grew wider, your faces were almost touching.

"Ain't you a dandy and a charmer?" You chuckled, your lips brushing against his and chests pressed against each other.

This? This was everything. All of your problems and worries gone even just for a moment or two– you'd do anything for him.

The small dance you two had going on lasted another minute before the track ended softly. Joel finally stopped teasing your lips and pressed a gentle kiss against them, which you returned with more hunger and passion.

"A little dance got you all excited?" Joel chuckled when he pulled back for air, noticing your hands had already unbuttonned his shirt halfway.

"You got me all excited," You beamed at him and dipped your hands under his shirt before reaching the last two buttons, feeling his warm skin under your fingertips and sighing into his chest. "We haven't done it in awhile..."

"Tsk," Joel shook his head with a soft grin, licking his lips as his pupils dilated the longer he thought of the last time you had sex, which was when he came in you for the first time. It had him weak in the knees, and would definitely do it again if you let him. He then softly leaned in and placed a wet kiss on your neck, making you sigh and close your eyes.

His hands placed themselves on your waist as he pushed you against the counter island, lightly marking your neck as he went: "Should'a done this a few days back, would'a marked you red and blue since y'ain't goin' out..."

You quietly moaned as he trapped you in place, lightly pushing your shirt up and massaging your sides as he did. You took the opportunity to place a kiss on his neck in return, hearing him growl softly, so you did it again, and again, and again...

Sex with Joel never ceased to satisfy you: He always managed to get you all giddy and excited like a child given a reward. His movements gained some speed as soon as his hands cupped your breasts, immediately taking your shirt off and kissing your lips hungrily. His arms closed around your waist and back as he moved down to your jaw and neck, biting and licking his way to your shoulders.

"Joel... the food..." Your chuckles mixed with moans the more his beard and lips caressed your skin. At your words, he picked you up and placed you on the counter, hooking his fingers through the waistbands of your shorts.

"I'll be full in a few," He smirked and started kissing down your breasts as he slowly dragged your shorts down your legs. His tongue worked wonders on your nipples while your fingers made their way through his hair, giving him soft hisses and quiet moans whenever he lightly bit on the skin.

Moments later, he was on his knees, caressing and kissing your inner thighs, not pulling back on leaving hickeys where he knew your shorts would cover to spare you the embarrassment; although that didn't keep him from lightly biting on the skin that showed too.

He then spread your legs and started giving tiny licks along your slit, making you slowly lean back onto your elbows, only to suddenly land on your back when he pulled you forwards by your thighs. You gave a brief chuckle as he feasted on your juices like a man who hadn't eaten in weeks.

As soon as you threw your head back, you opened your eyes to an intensifying sizzling sound, gasping when you saw the pan on the stove: "Joel! The food!"

"Oh shit–" He quickly left your wetness and practically threw himself over to the stove. After that was out of the way, you both stood still and giggled briefly. "Why'd you cook this much food?"

"Ellie asked if she could eat with us," You spoke as you got off the counter. "Said she didn't have time to cook for herself, I said sure. She then asked if Jesse could come too– Wait, what time is it?"

"Five twenty."

"Oh, good."

"Why?"

"Because," You gave him a mischievous smirk as you walked over to him and hooked your fingers behind his belt without breaking eye contact, pulling him back to the counter island. "That means we have at least another half hour before they arrive, but we still gotta be qui– Hmph!"

His lips were instantly on yours as he quickly pressed your back against the counter, but you stopped him before he could go down on you: "Nu-uh. I may be the cook–" You grabbed him through his trousers, making his hips jerk forward: "But I gotta eat too."

He made to protest –he's been going on about how you should take it easy and how your pleasure was more important than his (it was funny how he thought his pleasure didn't add to yours)– but you were already sinking to your knees, trapping yourself between his legs and the counter.

"There we go," You cooed as you got rid of his belt. Joel sighed deeply and closed his eyes, putting his hands on the surface above your head and leaning into your touch instinctively.

You were quick to pull him out of his underwear, pumping his cock a few times before giving it a few licks around the tip, to which he hissed quietly.

It was when you decided to take all his length to the back of your throat at one go that his hands shot to your hair: "Jesus– christ, doll!"

You offered a quiet giggle while you played with him in your hand, then slowly and rhythmically you took him in your mouth, but not even a few minutes later, Joel pulled your hair into a ponytail with both hands: "Can't believe I'm sayin' this but, food can wait."

You gave him a surprised look before he gently grabbed your jaw and lightly pressed your cheeks to make you open your mouth wider, then pushed his cock down your throat. Gagging and moaning you grabbed his hips, to which he responded: "A-ah, no hands Dolly."

You were perhaps too quick to drop your hands to your sides, then lace your fingers behind your back to keep yourself from grabbing him. You let him use your mouth for a few minutes: the sounds of wetness and gagging, plus occasional grunts and moans from him was heavenly for the both of you.

"Fuck– Dolly, up," He suddenly pulled out and leaned down to pull you up. He turned you around and gently, but with rushed movements, bent you over the counter a little. He entered you with one precise thrust, making you bend even more. You moaned simultaneously when he did, staying still a little for you to adjust.

He then leaned down over you, framing your body with his. Your bare back pressed against his naked chest, his hands wrapping themselves around your arms –then wrists– as his chin found its place like a puzzle piece in the crook of your neck. You loved it when he covered you like this, loved when he was so desperate, loved when he couldn't help himself and couldn't get enough of your–

"You get me so– shit," He growled as he pulled back and thrusted in again. He began with a steady rhythm, making you moan softly. You felt your eyes roll back when he nibbled at your ear and kissed your neck.

"Fuck– Joel, fuck–" You moaned, the pitch of your voice rising like it did when you began closing in on your orgasm. You both were aware how you were short on time and had to make this into a quickie, a promise of something more when night time fell and you both were alone in your room, hungry for one another like you were now.

"Want me to– to come in you again? Y'think I put a baby in you the last time?" He moaned at the way you squeezed around him, wriggled under his body and cried out at his words. "Don't matter, we can do it again to make sure– just say the words."

"Joel– ah, ah," You gasped when one of his hands left your wrist to draw circles around your clit, making you thrust back to his rhythm. "Fuck, come inside me, please."

"Shit, (Y/N)," He growled low, almost animalistically, into your ear. He placed kisses over your neck, then went up to your jaw and cheek, finally meeting your lips halfway. "Come on, babydoll, put one leg up for me?"

His other hand left your wrist as well when you nodded, helping one leg up to the counter. He proceeded to lean back and up, grab your hips and slam into you as fast and hard as he could, knocking the breath out of you.

"Oh my god!" You cried out, failing to keep up. The skin slapping against skin had long drowned out most of the surrounding sounds, minus your moaning and Joel's growling. "So– so close–"

"This ain't gonna work," He suddenly stopped, murmuring to himself. He put your leg back down, pulled out of you and turned you to face him. The sight of his cock –erect completely, thick and swollen– made you moan quietly. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter once more, spreading your legs. He grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, to the edge, where he thrusted back in.

You grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily, biting on his lower lip, then shoved your tongue into his mouth, moaning all the while.

"Ah," He broke off suddenly and put his forehead on your shoulder as he slammed, and slammed, and slammed...

Until he grabbed you by your thighs, his voice cracking slightly, and finally emptied his seed inside you, biting on your shoulder quite aggressively; you didn't mind, however, as it was the final stroke that threw you off the edge. You held onto his shoulders as you both trembled in the other's arms, panting as if you'd run all the way from the western gate to home.

His hips involuntary jerked forwards, his cock twitching inside you. He held you tightly in his arms as you came down your high, becoming sleepy all of a sudden. Him coming inside you had a wonderful effect on the both of you last time, it was no different this time.

"Shit," You hissed. "That was– that was–"

"Mind blowing?" He chuckled, reminding you of one of your quickies during patrol before you got married.

"That's one way to put it," You grinned back and claimed his lips in a sweet kiss. "You should come inside me more often."

You felt him tense a little: "Yeah, about that, are you su–"

Knock knock: "(Y/N)?" Ellie.

"Shit!" You jumped where you sat. Joel immediately pulled himself out of you and tucked his softening cock back in his jeans as you collected your clothing and ran to the bathroom.

After dinner, your love-making continued in your chambers. The pace slowed, the air became somewhat more sentimental, and tears were shed– both of you trembled in the other's arms, kissing and wiping away at the other's wet cheeks. You laid together: entwined, side by side, eventually parting because of the heat...

Now, you laid alone.

Alone in the house after that too-good-to-be-true week, you felt trapped and not as up to date as you liked to be about the town, so you asked Maria to sign you up for supply runs, extra shifts– whatever you were kept from.

People were more happy to see you than you thought they'd be– and more worried about you than Kiki. "You underestimate the place you hold in the community, (Y/N)." Eugene had told you with a pat to the back when you showed up to your first patrol in near two weeks. Before setting off for your assigned route however, Maria called you over with a half worried, half grave expression.

"Gonna tell you something you're not gonna like, so try to keep calm okay?" She stared right through you, making you gulp and nod: "Kiki wants to–" She sighed halfway when you scoffed quietly. "She said she wanted to talk to you, sort things out. She seemed pretty calm, maybe she made her peace with it."

"Nah," You shook your head. "She's got some folks riled up against me, they're giving me weird looks. Won't believe she's made her peace 'til that stops."

"All the more reason for you to talk. Her group's gonna wait for yours to arrive at the checkpoint. It's a good opportunity."

"... Alright." You exhaled heavily as she gave you an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Your group was made of just you and Eugene, but Ellie and Jesse asked if they could join. Jesse was already allowed on paired patrols, but Ellie was a matter of debate as Joel still deemed her young– definitely not because he was worried sick over her.

"Ellie..." You made to protest, but your gut told you to let her tag along.

"(Y/N) c'mon, Joel ain't even here," Eugene.

"No, yeah," You blinked, snapping out of your deep thoughts. "I was gonna say yes, sorry. Come on, hurry then."

Once you reached the checkpoint, you asked Eugene to stay back: "What's up, Dolly?"

"Kiki's in there, she says she wants to talk to me," You explained, hands on your hips. "To sort things out– I don't buy it."

"Woah, hold on. She said that to you?"

"To Maria. She says she's made her peace with what I did, but I say otherwise."

"Like hell she did," Eugene agreed. "I heard she's been calling you a–"

"I–" You put your hand up: "–don't wanna hear what that idiot has to say. I see a few people staring at me whenever I go out, some straight out avoid me."

"You want me to–?"

"No– no I'll talk to her, no biggie. This has to end one way or another, but I don't trust her. Be my eyes?"

"Always, (Y/N)," He started walking towards the doors of the checkpoint, but you stopped him.

"Actually, you watch out for Ellie and Jesse. I'll handle this alone."

"(Y/N)–"

"It's okay, she's weak. Squealed to the softest touch when she first came here, remember? She wouldn't try anything."

"But that was when she first came here. Don't underestimate her."

A warning that had fallen on your deaf ears.

As you reached the doors, you saw Ellie and Jesse standing a feet or two from the entrance awkwardly. You took a deep breath and walked through the door with heavy steps and, as soon as you saw her sitting on the couch, you stood across her: "Let's talk," You looked around the room to find it quite small for you to have privacy: "Leave us. Let's finish this."

"Wh–?"

"It's okay, Ellie– Just step outside for a moment, all of you."

Kiki's group, three other people, left the room with your company while giving you dirty looks. You locked eyes with Eugene, seeing him signal you watch, then as he turned around he also signaled you with hand signals. You really were grateful for him.

"Alright," You straightened up: "Let's get to it. I'm done holding back on you, so don't you dare play coy with me and say what you wanna say and get this over with."

"Very well then." She got up and started walking towards you, but you stopped her.

"I can hear you just fine from where you are." You told her not to approach, eyes instinctively scanning your surroundings. She was around 20 feet away from you, the path between you and her were clear of any obstacles –furniture etc– minus the small set of stairs that led up to where you were standing. There was a table behind you that you spied when you first entered the room, otherwise there was nothing near the neither of you.

"Fine. I was here to talk about Ward."

"I guessed that much."

"You do realise what you've done to me, right? You've ruined my life." Her face didn't reflect the words she spoke, not one bit.

"Oh for god's– I know damn well what I did."

"Did you regret it?"

You clenched, then unclenched your jaw: "Why do you wanna know?"

"I wanted to know if I'm talking to a normal person, or a cold blooded murderer."

Your hands were quick to ball up into fists, but you had to keep your cool. Her face and her stance made your shoulders tense even more– despite how she had behaved when you shot Ward, she was quite calm. Let's not jump to conclusions, you told yourself.

You remained quiet and huffed after a moment: "Let me ask you something."

"Ask away." She was ever so slowly inching closer, but you let her.

"Do you regret it? Me, shooting a man who beats you to a pulp, a man who won't–"

"I loved him, of course I do," She scoffed, but there was no love in her voice, just irritation.

"Or was this your plan all along?" You smirked sardonically, trying to keep your anger away from her prying eyes– allowing her to slip up: "You hated him so much, then you saw Joel and me, wanted my place; that it?"

"Clever, very clever," She nodded. "And what better person to kill Ward than you? How is it going between you and Joel, anyway?" She was suddenly too close: "Does he look at you with disgust every time you go to bed, wishing that it was me instead, the poor woman made into a widow by his own wife?"

Your face scrunched up with disgust and fury: "You fucking–"

"I'm right, aren't I?" Her head was tilted forward, giving you one of the most chilling, emotionless smiles you had ever seen.

"No... you're a fucking psychopath, that's what you are," You frowned.

"Ah, you sounded like Ward. Have you also read those psychology books Doctor Katherine had given him?"

Your mind blanked for a moment, but you quickly replied to cover it up: "I was trained to deal with the likes of you."

It was partly true, especially after everything went to shit with the apocalypse and whatnot. You were trained, yes, but you had educated yourself about certain disorders which could help you train and read body language better– you were no expert of course, and you weren't police, or a detective; you didn't deal with people like her up close.

"Likes of me?" She rolled her eyes: "Ugh, you and your husband... In any case, I feel like I can be honest with you now, you're smarter than I imagined."

Eugene was right, you thought: "Decided to be honest, finally? When no one else is around? How brave of you."

"The point wasn't bravery," She looked angrier, but her voice was still quiet. "The point was exactly that– No one will hear this confession but you."

You stared into her eyes, confusion and stress taking over a bit more quicker than you liked, you didn't even realise she was inching closer towards you: "I hated Ward. I didn't love him. He was my means of escape and protection for all those years out there, but I was weak– he was abusive, yes. I was smaller than him in physique and had no training to defend myself, so naturally I was inferior. His love, I assume, was true at one point. Mine never was. And yes, I was aware of how we were the black sheep of the community once we had arrived. I figured, if Tommy, Maria– people who were looked up to, like you, liked us, we'd fit in. I did, more than Ward anyway. And yes, I did want Joel for myself, but I knew it wasn't going to be easy. You– you never really liked me, you had to move out of the picture."

Your stance became defensive as you listened: "Move out of the picture?"

"Joel will move on, eventually, and I'll walk him through his grief. For all of this to work out, you had to die. That's why I am being honest, because I am going to kill you."

You thought you were ready to evade her attack, but not mentally. Her words had made your mind go blank: despite being smaller than you in figure, she threw herself at you, grabbed your hair and slammed your head onto the table behind you. Twice.

"Ah!" You growled and grabbed her wrist in a death grip, however she didn't let out as much as a groan (unlike the first time you had tried something like this with her), even though you felt like her bones were going to crush under your palm. You cursed at yourself for letting her get as close to you as she did, giving her an advantage; your vision was getting blurry from the strikes you suffered.

You growled angrily as you turned your body towards hers again, her hands not letting go of your hair. She had gotten stronger over the time she's been trained in Jackson, but you could still have the upper hand. You landed the hardest kick you could on her stomach. Twice.

"You're not even pregnant, are you?!" You spat when you managed to push her off, but as soon as she backed off, she pulled out a knife and lunged at you again. Before the tip of the knife could pierce your throat, you crossed your arms and blocked her attack, the force bending you backwards across the table.

"I never was, yes," She struggled, voice still stable. "Though telling everyone I miscarried because of your little doing didn't really hurt nobo–"

————

"Eugene, what the hell?" Mike, someone in Kiki's group asked as soon as they stepped outside.

The older man didn't reply, sparing an angry look in the younger man's way as he began looking for a window, an opening, anywhere he could keep an eye on you from.

"Whatever, let's hope (Y/N) doesn't kill her too in there," Jennifer, Kiki's neighbour across the street, grumbled.

"What's wrong with you?" Ellie snapped and turned to her. "(Y/N) protected her!"

"I don't think cold blooded murder doesn't really count as protection," She sneered.

"The fuck did you just–" Ellie started walking towards her, but Jesse held her back.

"Ellie calm down," He spoke quietly, then turned to Jessica. "If it weren't for (Y/N), both Kiki and Paul would've died, don't you understand? Ward beat Kiki to her death, then actually tried to—"

"What do you know? You weren't there!" Jessica hissed at him.

"Neither were you," Jesse replied calmly. "(Y/N) isn't a murderer, she's a protector of this town."

"Her history with FEDRA says otherwise," Mike joined in.

"So you're telling me you haven't killed anyone in the past 20 years?" Eugene suddenly walked over to them. "You think you're so innocent in all this, huh? You're as innocent as the rest of us, Mike. We've all done– forced to do some fucked up shit before Jackson, but this what this place's all about; a second chance." He took a few silent deep breaths, before adding: "You don't know what anyone here has gone through before here, so shut your goddamn mouth."

Both Mike and Jennifer fell silent, as well as Jesse and Ellie as the older man death stared Kiki's group. He started walking back to continue looking for an opening too late however– he suddenly heard two loud thuds, followed by a shout, your shout.

"God dammit!" He ran to the door with everyone else behind him and almost kicked down the door when he reached it.

————

"Kiki, what the hell?!" Eugene came in  shouting, the door suddenly opening with a loud crash.

"What's the matter, can't handle me on your own?" She hissed at you, but her grip failed at Eugene's entrance. She had failed, and she knew this too, for her face morphed from ambition and triumph to anger and fear. That was your moment.

You directed her hands to your left with your forearms, the knife suddenly giving in and stabbing into the wooden table: "Oh I can handle you just fine!"

You twisted your arms around hers, grabbed her and push kicked her with all your might, sending her flying down the small set of stairs back near the couch she was sitting on previously. Driven by rage, you pulled the knife out of the table and jumped on her with scary speed. Before she could get up, you reached her and straddled her hips, ready to drive the knife through her throat like she had tried to do to you.

"(Y/N) stop!" Eugene yelled before you could, knife holding hand raised high, the other around her lower neck.

"Tell them, go on!" You suddenly yelled, moving your hand onto her throat. "Confess to them like you did to me."

"Get off me." She spoke calmly.

"Speak!" You yelled and shook her where you had grabbed her by the throat.

"(Y/N)..." Eugene, you realised when he entered your line of sight, was pointing a gun at Kiki's head. He kept his distance, his stance almost professional.

"Get off me," She spoke after awhile of silence. "And I'll tell them what I told you."

For whatever stupid reason, you believed her.

You believed, for a second, that she was actually going to make her confession and try to survive this, somehow. Jackson never took to execution as a form of punishment, so she had higher chances of staying alive that way.

Instead, as soon as you lowered your arm and simultaneously pulled your hand away from her throat, she grabbed you by your shirt's collar.

Everything happened so fast.

You gasped and shouted when you felt her teeth sink into the left side of your throat, dangerously close to the artery. Before she could completely bite off your skin, you embedded the knife in your hand to the side of her neck. Twice.

The tension in your body, the fear and anger you felt– everything came out on her neck. You stabbed her neck reflexively and as soon as she let your neck and shoulders go, you stopped, threw her back on the ground and fell on your back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You grimaced, panting and holding your neck as you backed away from Kiki where you sat. You stopped crawling back when your back hit one of the armchair across the sofa.

The outside voices started to drown out as you pulled your hand away from your neck to see a mix of blood smeared across your hand. Your head hurt so much; the beating of your own heart, the voice ringing in your ear– too much blood–

"(Y/N), christ!" Eugene knelt beside you immediately, followed by Ellie and Jesse. Mike, Jessica and the other person stood, dumbfounded and shocked, as Kiki gave her last breath.

"No, oh god, what did I do?" Tears finally started rolling down your cheeks as you panted, visions of old memories covered in blood flashing under your eyelids making you hyperventilate.

Joel... Where is Joel...

"You protected yourself, (Y/N), it's okay! Breathe!" Eugene ran a hand through his hair, then held you by the shoulders hesitantly.

"(Y/N)," Ellie spoke worriedly: "(Y/N), you're okay– it's okay."

You put your hands on your ears in an attempt to drown out the noises, tried opening your eyes but the images weren't going away: "I can't– can't breathe," You held onto Eugene's arms. "You're– Is she–?"

Your question died on your tongue when he pulled you into a hug, putting your chin on his shoulder, then turned to the side so you didn't see Kiki's now lifeless body: "(Y/N), we need to get you to Katherine, you're bleeding."

"She was trying to stab her?" Katherine.

"Yeah, then she said she was gonna confess something she had confessed to (Y/N), but bit her nearly in the damn artery instead." Eugene.

"And whose bright idea was it to let 'em talk alone?" Tommy.

"Mine," You weakly replied as you slowly opened your eyes.

"Jesus christ, (Y/N)," Tommy sighed, relieved, and sat to your right. You were back in the hospital, where Doctor Katherine, Eugene and Tommy had been waiting for you to wake up.

"We should put my name up outside," You said stiffly, in an attempt to make a joke. "Seems like I won't stop waking up in this room."

Katherine was sat to your left– she put a hand against your forehead, then the back of it: "I got a fever?"

"You had a mild fever while I was operating–"

"Woah, hold on– operating?" You sat up, holding your neck to find it patched up. "Was it that bad?"

"She almost tore out the meat, that crazy–" Eugene spoke, but huffed with frustration halfway.

"I don't wanna rush you," Tommy put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a worried look. "But I need you to tell me what happened."

You and Eugene exchanged a worrisome look: "Just back there, or right from the beginning?"

"Everything," Tommy said after awhile. You gave Katherine a hesitating look, which she didn't notice, but sighed and began telling everything: from the dirty looks you got, to the symbolism of flowers and the night before Ward's death; then how some townspeople were riled up against you, and finally how she confessed to everything and attacked you, ultimately resulting in her death. Tommy went a little pale throughout, especially when you told him of her confession– Same with Eugene. Katherine looked devastated.

"Some folk ain't gonna believe this," Tommy said with an apologetic look on his face.

"Well, fuck 'em– I believe her." Eugene shook his head from where he was leaning against the windowsill. You offered a brief smile.

"I believe you too, but it just sounds too absurd, no offence," Tommy said, scratching his beard. "A damn maniac and his psycho wife... Then this whole– confession?"

You just sighed and looked down, where you had been playing with your fingernails and tips nervously: "To be frank, I don't owe anyone in this town a goddamn thing, except for maybe Katherine here. I'm not gonna try and convince a bunch of people, who have no place in my business, that I'm right or whatever. I did what I had to– and I have you all, so..."

Katherine took your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze: "That you do. We got you (Y/N), you're safe."

You gave them all half a smile, struggling not to cry but you managed to keep your tears to yourself. Tommy smiled, tsked and put his hands on his hips: "Well, now I'm worried about how Joel's goin' to react."

"React to what?" Came a tired voice from the door, the voice of your husband who was supposed to be away at a run.

"Joel?" Tommy's shocked tone mixed with yours, which was laced with both relief and disbelief.

"Tony got injured before we could make it out the county, Earl and I had to bring him back," He said from the door, slowly walking in and taking Katherine's place by your side: "Ran into Daisy, said my lovely wife managed to land herself here again."

He put his hand through your hair and combed it back, giving you a solemn yet soft look, then kissed your forehead and kept his lips pressed there for a few seconds. He then pulled back and gently looked at your neck: "What happened?"

—————

tagging: @spideysimpossiblegirl @sherry-212 @joelsgeetar @peachymelon69 @assinteractions @gizmogurlie41786 @giselatropicana @unfinishedsynopsis @nervousmumbling @thewintersoldierswife @roxypeanut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Born to Run

Warnings: dark elements including noncon and rape, fingering, kidnapping, guns, and other explicit content.

This is dark!Frank Castle and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are forced onto the road when an unwanted passenger gets in your backseat.

Note: So I’m gonna tag @allaboardthereadingrailroad​ because I promised them I’d write Frank and I finally got to it and it was loads of fun!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You sighed as you rolled to a stop behind the yellow taxi. You craned your neck to try to see around the lines of cars, another deadlock in New York traffic. You couldn’t be surprised as you idled in one spot and leaned your hand on the wheel as you checked the time. 

You heard a siren, saw lights flashing ahead, and heard shouts. Again, not unusual for the city.

You rubbed your forehead as the sun beat down through your window and the humidity built as it leaked in through your open window. You tried not to use the AC too much as it made your old Chrysler overheat in the annual New York heatwave. You shifted in your seat and pulled against the belt as you tried once more to peer past the crowded vehicles.

You heard heavy footsteps, several sets echoing from all directions. A figure appeared on the other side of your car and the back door was ripped open. The man ducked as he slammed the door behind him and laid across the seat. He rolled down onto the floor, a sudden invasion that shocked you.

“What the fuck--get out of my car!” you snarled.

“Honey, you’re gonna wanna keep it down,” he said as his large body barely fit in the crevice between the seats.

“What--”

He poked a gun up towards you and waved it, “eyes forward,” he said, “hands on the wheel, and turn the music up.”

“I don’t have any money--”

“I don’t want your money now shut up,” he hissed, “now you keep it up and I’ll blow a hole through your seat… pity you’re on the other side.”

Your adrenaline spiked and the pounding in your temples deafened you. You turned the knob of the radio to drown out the pulsing and the man’s ragged breaths. Several others appeared, several dressed as officers and few in civilian clothing. You grasped the wheel and made yourself stare at the license plate ahead of you.

The search party dispersed as they called out to each other and the cab slowly crawled forward. The man squinted up through the window as the cars around you began to move as well.

“Drive,” he said.

“What do you want?” you asked shakily as you pressed lightly on the gas.

“To do what I tell you,” he barked and wiggled uncomfortably on the floor, “you keep driving until you’re out of the city and then maybe we’ll talk.”

“It’s rush hour, that could take ages,” you huffed.

“So take ages,” he growled, “you don��t stop ‘til I tell you, got it?”

You nodded and cleared your throat, “uh huh,” you looked in your rearview as a gunshot rang, “exit?”

“Whatever gets you out of New York now shut up and drive.”

You did as he said. You made your way at a snail’s pace until traffic began to thin out and you turned away from your usual route.

“Tell me what street you’re on when you turn,” he ordered, “don’t fuck around with me.”

You looked at the sign and read it aloud. You followed a silver Civic to the next and again recited the name on the dented sign. You checked the clock again. Your meeting would have already started, that was probably why your bag wouldn’t stop vibrating.

“Give me your phone,” he said. You reached over blindly and grabbed your purse. You dropped it to him and he quickly unzipped it, “roll the window down,” again, you obeyed as you recalled the sight of the gun.

He pulled apart your phone and you glanced back over your shoulder. He had the back of and the battery in his hand. “Hey--”

“Keep your eyes on the road,” he flung the battery out the window and bent the phone in half. He tossed it too and righted his gun to aim over the console, “go on.”

“You can take the car, please… people will look for me,” you pleaded.

“Not for a while,” he laid back and gripped the gun, “now someone sees you arguing with your windshield and they gonna get curious so shut up and enjoy the… is that music?”

You changed the station with a flick of your finger, you barely registered the smoky tones of Springsteen as you focused on steering and reading out the street names. Your veins burned as our blood pumped wildly from your racing heart and the man’s scent tickled your nostrils; he smelled of blood and sweat. You hoped he didn’t add your own to the stains on his jeans.

💀

It was dark as your car dinged. You swore and looked ahead for a sign. You shook your head and blew out a long breath.

“I need gas,” you said to the phantom in the back seat.

He grunted as he pushed himself up from the floor and sat up, “gotta be a station close.”

“And if there isn’t?”

“Then we get out and push,” he scoffed, “stop worrying about ‘if’ and find us a station.”

You rolled your eyes. The man was annoying, even if he was terrifying. You scratched your nose and sat forward with a yawn. “I’d know if you hadn’t destroyed my phone.”

“See, right up there,” he ignored your gripe, “yellow sign just ahead.”

“Christ,” you huffed and blinked at the black road.

“I’m sure you had some real important business,” he grumbled, “but I’m sure the coffee can make itself.”

“Excuse me? Fuck off, I’m not some--”

“You’re gonna miss your turn,” he warned and you flipped your signal on.

You pulled into the station and he scooped up your purse. You shut the car off and unbuckled your belt. You twisted in your seat to watch him search your purse. He pulled out your wallet and counted the bills inside.

“Right, we fill up then we’re back to it,” he opened the door and stepped out.

He uncapped your tank and pulled a hose from the meter. He slid it into the slot and kept a hand lazily on the handle. You slowly opened your door and got out. You looked at him over the top of the car as he scowled at you, it was the first good look you got at him.

His dark hair was shaved on the side but he had about and inch or two up top, his nose was crooked, and his dark eyes were set beneath a forehead that betrayed a frequent grimace. You looked at the lights of the station then back at him.

“I gotta… go pee,” you said.

“You wait,” he said, “I’ll go with you.”

“What?”

“You think I’m stupid?” He released the level and tapped the nozzle as he pulled it out, “hold your horses, I’m comin’.”

He put the hose back in and stomped over to you. You saw the gun tucked into his belt and he pulled his jacket over it. He snatched the keys from you and grabbed your arm and marched you to the blazing door of the station.

“You have one minute before I come in and drag you out, pants down or not,” he tore open the door and shoved you through.

You curled your lip as he took a few sticks of jerky from a display and approached the counter. As you got to the sign over the restroom, you looked back as he stared at you. He raised a thick brow and tapped his wrist as if he wore a watch; he did not.

You went into the bathroom and locked the heavy door behind you. You looked around the grimy room and shuddered at the stained toilet bowl. You stepped up on the seat and looked out the small window above. It might be big enough if you suck in.

You stepped on the pipe beside the handle and pushed on the pain. It was just as gross as the rest of the room. The pane finally popped out and you hauled yourself over the high ledge. The glass didn’t quite open wide enough so you had to bend as you wiggled through. You had a high chance of landing on your head but you really didn’t want to chance worse with that man.

You kicked as you were lodged halfway through the window and a knock came at the door, “better pull your pants up,” your abductor called through the door.

You struggled to force yourself through as you tried to angle your hips past the frame. The door burst open with a frightening kick and you flailed your legs as you tried to hit the man blindly and keep him away. He caught your ankles and pulled you back. You cried out and grabbed the window frame so that you didn’t crash down into the toilet.

“Hey, let me go,” you tried to kick him again and he batted away your foot.

“You do that again and you won’t have a safe landing,” he tugged again and you nearly lost your grip on the ledge, “now come on.”

“You got my wallet, my keys, everything, so why don’t you just leave me--”

“Don’t make me count,” he sounded like a father.

“Count? Oh, come on, what am I gonna do? Just let me go.”

“Three,” he swung you just a little, “two,” he gripped your legs firmly, “O--”

“Okay!” you shouted, “okay, just-- let me down.”

Cautiously he bent and put your feet on the floor. He stood and you pushed yourself straight. He grabbed your arm and spun you to face him. He bent and rammed his shoulder into your stomach as he scooped you up. You yiped and pounded on his back as he turned and carried you out of the restroom.

As he strutted down the aisle, the clerk stared at you in confusion. The man reached the door and paused, “on her rag, she gets a bit pissy.” He left the store with a chime and carried you across the lot, “you want the trunk or are you gonna be good?”

You pulled on the back of his jacket and gritted your teeth, “would you put me down?”

“I won’t ask again so either you choose or I do,” he said as he neared the car.

“Alright, alright,” you snarled as he popped the trunk, “I’ll be good just don’t-- not in there.”

He harrumphed and walked around to close the trunk. He brought you up to the passenger side and dropped you on your feet. Dizzy, you grabbed onto the car and he ripped the door open, narrowly missing you with it.

“In,” he pointed to the seat.

You glared at him and stepped under his arm. You sat and he closed the door with a snap. He rounded the hood and the car dipped as he sat in the driver’s seat. He fumbled with keys and shoved them in the slot. He turned the ignition and shifted in the seat.

He took a stick of jerky from his pocket and peeled the plastic. He took a bite as he put the car in drive. He pulled out with one hand on the wheel and chewed noisily and he siphoned through the radio station with his greasy finger. You buckled your seatbelt out of habit and crossed your arms. 

“Get some shut-eye,” he gristled, “you’ll be drivin’ once the sun comes up.”

“Where the fuck are you taking me?” you groaned.

“Dunno, far,” he answered bluntly, “no talk, just sleep.”

“I’m not a dog,” you muttered.

“Keep actin’ like one and I’ll get you a leash,” he snorted.

“I really don’t get why you don’t just take the car--”

“As useless as I’d agree you are, you’ve seen my face and the longer I keep you from running back and snitching, the better chance I got,” he adjusted the seat as he chewed the last of the salted meat, “but there is another option?”

“There is?” you asked.

“Yeah, I could kill you,” he chuckled.

You swallowed and exhaled as you leaned your head back heavily. You peeked over at him as he focused on the road and as much as you wanted to leap from the moving car, you knew that would be just as fatal. So you huddled down and closed your eyes.

“Would you turn that down?” you nodded at the radio.

“You askin’ me to turn down a classic?” he turned the knob and Robert Plant’s voice whined from the speakers, “a nice little lullaby for you.”

You closed your eyes and turned in the seat so that you faced the door, the belt strained against you awkwardly but you didn’t care. You crossed your legs and tried to drown out the music. Even without the racket, you wouldn’t sleep easy.

💀

You woke after hours of uncomfortable sleep in the car seat. The car was still as you yawned and groaned as your stiff muscles rebelled. You sat up as you heard the sound of water hitting the dirt. The man was just outside with his back to you, pissing on the side of the road.

You looked to the ignition but the keys weren’t there. He finished up and zipped up noisily. He opened the door and bent to look at you. He kept his hand on the door as his eyes met yours.

“Get out, stretch your legs, you gotta piss, there’s a bush,” he jabbed his other thumb behind him.

“Really?”

“Or you can keep holding it,” he shrugged and closed the door. He walked around the front of the car and pushed an arm over his head to stretch his shoulder. You took a breath as your irritation bubbled and reached for the door handle.

You got out and held in a grunt. You walked around the back of the car and glanced around. The bush was small and poor cover. Even so, you really had to go as you spent your only opportunity trying to sneak out of the station. You looked at him and neared the leafy bunch. He blinked at you and turned his back.

“I hear any funny business,” he said over his shoulder, “you can piss your pants instead.”

You shoved your pants down and squatted. You let out a steady stream and almost sighed as the pressure left your pelvis. When you finished, you waited until you were relatively dry and pulled your pants back up.

“All done,” you said as you went back to the car. He shook his head and pointed you to his side.

“You drive, sign says there’s a motel about an hour down the road,” he opened the driver’s door.

You got in and he snapped the door shut before he went to the other side. He settled in the seat and slid the keys into the ignition, turning it until the engine rumbled. He leaned back and pushed his fingers back against his palm.

“Right, let’s go.”

You sniffed and pulled back onto the empty highway. You’d never been down that one before, an old country road with sparse exits. He pushed on his jaw until his neck snapped and you winced. You hated the noise.

“So, what do I call you then?” you asked.

He was silent and you felt him watching you, “like you care.”

“I don’t but looks like I’m stuck with you, so…”

“Mmm,” he pulled out some more jerky, “Frank.”

You nodded and stared at the endless road ahead. He said your name before you could.

“Saw it in your wallet,” he explained.

You drove in silence from there until he flipped the radio on. He chose a country station and you silently cursed his taste. You followed the signs and he pointed you to the old motel as you approached it. You thought of hitting the gas but that would do nothing but piss him off and probably get you hurt. Worse, you’d be stuck in the car with him for who knew how long.

You steered into the lot and he yanked the keys out of the ignition before you could. You mirrored him as he got out but he stomped over to your side. He leaned in as he lowered his voice.

“You can play along,” he pushed his jacket open and showed the butt of his gun, “or there’s still room in the trunk.”

“Fine,” you muttered.

“I mean it, you try anything,” he rested his hand on the gun, “you really wanna get someone else hurt?”

You nodded and chewed your lip, “I get it, okay?”

He pulled his jacket closed again and took your elbow, ushering you up to the front of the motel. You wriggled away as you reached the door and entered ahead of him. He drew you back as he followed you through the door and cleared his throat. The woman at the front desk looked up over her glasses and set aside the novel with a shirtless man on the cover.

“Good afternoon,” she sang as she swiveled in her chair, “how can I help you two today?”

“We need a room,” Frank said as he pulled out a wad of money.

“Deposit’s three-hundred, sir,” the woman replied, “can I get a name?”

“Ben Tacker,” he lied smoothly as he counted out the money.

“Alright, and a piece of ID?” she asked.

“Funny thing,” he peeled a fifty free and held it over the desk to her, “I lost it.”

She stared at him and slowly took the bill. She shoved it in her pocket and counted the rest out. She handed him a paper to sign and he scribbled without caring. She handed him the key and he thanked her in the same gruff voice.

“You two have fun,” she called after him as he swung open the door and waved you out.

He chuckled and shook his head, “sure will,” he said before the door shut again.

He looked at the number on the tag and led you to the door with the same. He unlocked it and waited for you to enter. The lock clicked as he trailed you and brushed past you as he went to the closet. You watched in confusion as he pulled out a stack of extra bedding and shared shredding the tinged top sheet.

He took one of the strips as he neared you. You backed up against the door and he wrenched you away as he pulled the single chair up behind you. He sat you down and held your wrist against the narrow arm of the chair. As he began to wind the strip around your wrist, you twisted and he squeezed so hard your fingers went numb.

“Can’t trust ya but I gotta get some sleep,” he growled as he finished tying your first hand. He went back and took another strip of linen, he repeated the process on your other arm and both your legs.

“And what if I have to pee?” you pulled against the bounds but only added to your discomfort.

“Hold it,” he shrugged and took the remote. He flipped on the television and pushed the control into your hand, “there. I don’t wanna hear another word.”

“You’re not serious? You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“I coulda left you in the trunk,” he turned and walked around the foot of the bed, he plopped down with a sigh, “you should be thanking me?”

He untied his boots and kicked them off. He pulled off his jacket and tossed it over the far side of the bed. He set the gun on the table beside the lamp and stretched his arms behind his head. As he laid back, he shifted awkwardly and dug in his pocket, he tossed your credit card up onto the table with a flick.

“Now, don’t go pullin’ shit or we won’t get that deposit back,” he groaned as he wiggled to get comfortable, “not my money so I don’t really care either way.”

“You… asshole,” you huffed and he smirked.

“I think an asshole woulda just taken the car,” he said, “and left you with a hole in your head.”

You clamped your lips together and shook your head. You hit a button and searched through the channels. You didn’t really care what you watched, you wouldn’t be able to pay attention anyway. You stopped at an old episode of NewsRadio and let the remote rest on the end of the arm.

The laugh track filled the interminable silence and after some time, low snores rose from the bed. You peeked over at Frank, his arm slung over his face as his chest rose and fell steadily. He might be irritating but you had enough sense to be afraid of him. If you had to guess, he was ex-military and judging by your inopportune meeting, he was also a wanted man.

You fidgeted as much as you could in the chair and turned back to the screen. It was as if the recorded guffaws were at your expense. You slumped as the cotton chafed around your wrists and yawned. Your back was still stiff from your nap in the car and the chair was little better with its thin pleather cushioning and short back.

💀

You didn’t remember falling asleep, not until you woke up in terrible pain. Your head hung over as you were nearly folded over your lap entirely, your bound arms holding you just above. You groaned as you pushed yourself up and it sent a pang up your neck. You heard the rattle of pipes and looked over at the empty bed.

You let out a strained breath and moved your head side to side, just slightly as the pain lingered and throbbed with each pivot. You balled your hands in fists and tried to twist your arms against the linen. You flexed your legs too, wiggling your feet as you tried to loosen the ties.

The chair began to rock as you fought against your restraints. The remote fell to the floor and the television kept blaring. As you were sure you just needed a little more, the chair tipped and you bounced off the side of the bed as it crashed down onto its side. The impact had your head spinning and shower faucet squeaked off.

You kept moving your arms and legs, desperate to free yourself before he could discover you. There was no hiding your intent anymore. The bathroom door opened and your heart swelled. Shit. You hissed as you heard his footsteps and looked up as his shadow loomed over you.

Frank stood in nothing but a towel, his thickly muscles torso still damp as he glared down at you. You cringed and tried not to see more than you wanted.

“I gotta take a leak,” you lied, well, not exactly untrue.

“Uh huh,” he hummed doubtfully and grabbed the chair. 

He hauled you back up and planted the chair back in place. He shook his head at you and retreated. He pulled one of the white robes from the hook on the wall and pulled it over the towel. He tied the belt tightly and dropped the other layer before he disappeared back into the bathroom.

When he emerged again, you watched him dully, “I really do have to go,” you said.

He ignored you and checked his gun. He slid open the drawer and set it inside.

“Well,” he came around the bed, “I got some bad news for you, There’s no window in there,” he grabbed the strip around your left wrist and unknotted it, “so, I’ll give you two minutes.”

He untied you and watched as you rubbed your wrists. You stood with a wince as your legs ached but he didn’t back up. You sidled past him and he turned to keep his dark eyes on you as you approached the bathroom. You swung the door shut and nearly collapsed on the other side.

The bathroom smelled of the gardenia scented soap that came with the room and there was still moisture in the air. You relieved yourself quickly and stood to gaze into the mirror. You looked awful, you felt awful. You splashed your face with cold water and leaned heavily on the porcelain. 

Whether you listened to that man or not, you were fairly certain the result would be the same. You could see it now, the black barrel of the gun, his finger on the trigger. You shuddered and shook out your hands as if to get rid of your nerves. You stood straight and groaned as you stretched out the knots in your limbs and back.

You went back into the hotel room as you rubbed your neck, the needling pain still buried at the base of your skull.

“Tell you what,” he said as he sat on the bed and aimed the remote at the screen, “I can tie you up again or you can make both our lives easier and just lay down.”

“Is there a third option?” you winced as another jolt went through your spine.

He snickered and pointed to the pillows, “we’re leavin’ early,” he said, “so you can sleep now or sleep in the car.”

You gave no response as you went around the other side of the bed. You eased yourself down against the pillow and let out an unwitting groan. It felt good to lay down. You turned onto your side, your face away from him, and he finally stopped switching stations.

You closed your eyes and hugged yourself as his weight rested at the bottom of the bed. It wasn’t hard to drift off as the pain chased you into unconsciousness and the stress of the last day shrouded your mind. You only hoped he wasn’t waiting for you in your dreams.

💀

The night's stay was taken out of the deposit and you were back on the road to nowhere. The man gave you gruff directions as he closed his eyes in the passenger seat. At night, you switched and you grew complacent as the endless travel wore on your wits. You didn't know why he wouldn't just let you go. He could take the car and the last of your money and just leave you alone. Likely the separation would be preferable to both parties. 

Another motel after a week of driving and you were thankful to be standing still. You were asleep on your feet as you dragged your feet behind your grumpy captor and as you leaned on the front desk and bid farewell to even more of your cash, you barely processed the conversation happening around you.

Frank's arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close. You flinched and sneered at him. You felt so gross, you didn’t want to be touched, let alone by him. The desk clerk handed him a key and chuckled.

“It’s been a long trip,” Frank said, “think we just need some R and R.”

You blinked at him stupidly as he turned you around and swept you out the door. Outside, you shoved him away and stumbled as he laughed at your pathetic effort.

“What the fuck was that about?” you scowled.

“Well, you looked like you were about to keel over, just tryna keep you on your feet,” he jingled the keys and led you up to the second level.

“Don’t do that again,” you mumbled as you waited for him to unlock the door.

“Sure, honey,” he said mockingly as he slid the key out and kicked the door open, “come on.”

Just like last time, he locked the door and you looked around at the small room, a single queen and another rickety chair. 

“Please, don’t,” you said as you crossed the room, “I’ll stay, just don’t tie me up. I need to lay down.”

“You need to wash the road off ya,” he quipped as he peeked into the bathroom, “ladies first.”

You stared at him and tilted your head. He might have kept you alive so far but you could hardly trust him. After all, you weren’t exactly there by choice. You tiptoed forward, warily eyeing him as you got closer. He stepped back and crossed his arms.

“You might not be able to smell ya but I can,” he nodded through the door, “ten minutes.”

You stepped inside and he snapped the door shut behind you. You sat on the toilet and rubbed your eyes. You looked down at your clothes, rumpled and stained with sweat and filth. You took a moment and stood to strip off the layers one at a time. 

You cranked on the shower and stepped under the stream. The shower curtain rang as you pulled it around the tub and you basked in the hot water. It felt good and your muscles relaxed as rivulets trailed down your skin. You scrubbed with the vague floral scented soap and scrubbed until you felt a little more like yourself.

Reluctantly, you turned the faucet off and reached for the towel on the bar. You lowered your foot onto the tile and patted yourself as you stared at your blurred silhouette in the steamy mirror. A knock sounded at the door and had you wrapping yourself in the white cotton.

“Ay, they got some machines here,” his voice scratched, “should probably wash those rags up while we’re here.”

You tucked the towel in at the top and gathered up your clothes. You neared the door hesitantly and cracked it open. You peeked out at him as he watched you impatiently.

“Figure you can’t run naked… well, if you try, it won’t be so easy,” he remarked. You shoved your clothes through wordlessly, “there’s some robes out here when you’re done with your sauna, princess.”

You rolled your eyes and shut the door. You heard him chuckle and move around the room as he grumbled under his breath. You waited for the other door to open and close before you emerged. 

You took the robe folded over the bottom of the bed and tied the belt tight around your waist. You sat on the bed, your back to the frame and switched on the television. You thought of running but he was right, even if you eluded him, you doubted there were many who wouldn’t do worse to a barely clothed woman, not out there in the middle of nowhere.

He returned shortly and dropped a haul of processed foods on the bed from the vending machines. He wore a robe as well but it was smaller on him and the flimsy white slippers provided with the room. He shuffled through his trove of salt and sugar. 

He took the two cups and placed them on the small round table and filled the kettle from the bathroom sink. He plugged it in and flipped the switch. “Hope you like chicken noodle,” he said.

You read the guide on the TV and punched in the channel playing re-runs of Law and Order. It was a grim choice but you just needed to disassociate from the dingy motel. The kettle clicked and his shadow flickered in your peripheral. Frank sat and the mattress dipped beside you. He held out a steaming cup with a plastic spoon sticking out of it.

“Thanks,” you took it and leaned back as you stirred the boiling soup.

“We’ll grab some burgers at the next stop,” he grizzled, “Fuckin’ starvin’.”

You said nothing and stared at the lawyers arguing on screen with the detectives. They were trying to figure out how a woman ended up in a motel with marks around her neck; dead. A chill went through you and you slowly glanced over at the man beside you.

He squinted and returned your gaze. His mouth slanted and he shook his head, “really?” he challenged nonchalantly.

You took a deep breath and turned back to the screen. You sipped at the hot broth and scooped up noodles as you tried not to think about being strangled to death on the bathroom floor. 

When you finished, you set the empty cup aside and slid under the covers as the afterglow of the shower weighed down your limbs. You just wanted to sleep. If he did decide to kill you then, you wouldn’t even know the difference.

He grabbed a candy bar from the mess and sat back, jarring the whole bed as he did. You rolled onto your side and pulled a pillow over your head. You squeezed your eyelids shut and tuned out the old tube television and the chewing of the man behind you. Sleep crept up on you in haze, half-aware of the muffled voices and the movement on the other side of the bed.

You pushed the pillow away as it grew warm beneath and sleepily pulled it under your head. You heard the distant noise of the pipes. Groggy, you sank back into a shallow sleep as the constant noise lulled you.

You were disturbed again when you were jostled and the television shut off. You felt him behind you and wiggled closer to the edge. He barely seemed bothered as he stretched out and you felt the heat radiating from his body. You drifted off once more, dreaming about the eternal highway and Frank’s bristly orders.

You snorted awake, this time from a haze so deep it felt as if you’d been drowning. You felt the arm over the middle, heavy and firm, and the hot breath on your neck. Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close again, but your adrenaline forced your eyes open. 

He was flush to your back, his hard body against your back as his hand was slid into the opening of your robe. His rough fingertips rested against your soft torso, just beneath your breast.

“Frank,” you rasped and tugged on his wrist, “the fuck are you doing?”

He groaned and shushed you as he nestled closer. You went rigid as you felt a prod against your ass. You grabbed him more firmly but could not move his hand as he squeezed you tighter. His hand glided up against your resistance and he cupped your chest. You gasped and pulled at his long fingers.

“Frank, get your fuckin’ hands off of me--”

He ignored you and rolled his thumb over your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat and tried to push yourself up. He held you down as he snaked his other arm beneath your.

“Honey, just relax,” he said drowsily, “I ain’t hurtin’ ya.”

“Get off!” you slapped the back of his hand.

“Mmmm,” he purred and nuzzled the back of your head, “you smell like flowers.”

“Frank--”

“What else are we gonna do, honey?” he asked and his breath tickled your ear, “hmmm.”

He nibbled at your lobe and a chill went through you. You pressed your hands to his and knew he could feel the frantic beating of your heart. You shivered as his arousal poked against you again. You gulped and gasped as suddenly rolled onto his back and pulled you up onto him.

Your robe fell loose as you laid atop him, your back to his hard torso as his other hand roved lower. You squirmed and grasped at his wrists. He easily ignored you as he kneaded your tit and his other hand slid along your vee. You held your breath and pushed your legs together.

“That’s your problem, you just need to let go,” he hummed and brushed his fingertips down the line of your leg, “come on and open up for me.”

You shook your head against his shoulder and he pinched your thigh. You yelped and he did it again. You hit his hand and he laughed, a deep rumble that flowed through you. He dug his nails into your flesh as he continued to fondle your chest with his other hand. 

You whimpered as he threatened to break the skin and let your legs fall open around his. He slid his fingers between your folds and over your clit. You gasped and he swirled his fingertips, sending a bolt of electricity through you. You gripped his thick wrist and gritted your teeth as you tried to resist the fire in your core.

“What d’ya think you’re still around for, huh?” he slithered as he poked around your cunt, pressing his fingers to your entrance.

You murmured a weak protest as your eyes rolled up and you stared at the wall above the bed. You huffed between your teeth as he shoved two fingers inside you. You clenched around them and your nerves rippled with the wave of pleasure.

His palm rubbed against your clit as he rocked his hand slowly and you shook your head, fighting the unwelcome thrumming as it pulsed deep within you.

His fingers slipped easily in and out of you as you slickened and reached back unthinkingly to curl your fingers into his sides. He moved his hand faster, the friction building to a spark. You closed your eyes as your nails pressed against his muscles and your legs bent around his.

You spasmed as you came, your surrender declared with a pathetic squeak. He didn’t stop until you were panting uncontrollably, your head lolling on his shoulder as you bit the tip of your tongue. When he pulled his fingers out, you whined at the sudden emptiness.

He rubbed his wet fingers along your cunt and spread your lips as he snaked his other hand beneath your leg. He tore open the tails of his robe and angled his tip against your opening. He urged you onto him, sliding you down his body until your back arched to accept him. You moaned as he entered you and the overwhelming fullness fueled your helpless voice.

“Hmm, honey,” her purred as his hot breath touched your scalp, “just what you needed, isn’t it?”

You sputtered as he moved his hips beneath you, rocking into you from below as he planted his feet in the mattress. He lifted you carefully and kept an arm around your middle as his other toyed with your sensitive bud. His thick breaths clouded around you as he moved your body in time with his.

He hooked his arm around around your left leg and pulled it higher, doing the same with your right as he fucked you harder. He reached from below to keep his thumb on your clit, your legs folded against your chest. He growled in your ear and bit the lobe again. You clawed at the blanket below him as he used you so easily, your shame smothered by your pleasure.

You orgasmed again and as your walls clenched around him, he groaned and his legs slipped down straight. He turned onto his side and quickly rolled you onto your stomach as he forced your legs down. He pinned you beneath him, weaving his arm through yours as he pulled them back as his twined his fingers behind your head.

He kept you pinned beneath him as his flesh clapped against yours loudly. You moans seeped into the pillow and his animalistic grunts punctuated each thrust. The bed shook beneath your bodies and he pushed his thigh up around yours. He sat up, still bucking his hips as he pulled your arms back and forced you to arch with him.

He gripped your elbows as he hammered into you. Your moans turned to whines as he pounded your walls and you gulped down air desperately. He growled and you felt his body tense as his hold on you broke. He shoved your head down against the pillow, almost suffocating you as he once more sped up.

He snarled and his motion grew spasmodic. He slowed and his hips jolted into you in jagged thrust. He emptied himself into you as his long fingers stretched over your scalp. Finally, he stopped, still straddling you as he heaved a shaky sigh. He sniffed and trembled as he ran his hand down your back.

“Really makes me happy I didn’t put a bullet in ya,” he rasped, “real…” he squeezed your hips and pushed in as deep as he could go, “happy.”

[cringesideblog]

here’s my dnf playlist and a complete song by song track-list and why I put them on it.

heatwaves- on here for very obvious reasons. i don’t think I need to explain. but here are some lyrics anyway. “Sometimes all I think about is you, late nights in the middle of June.”

Jenny- again this is kinda obvious. “I wanna ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead, I don’t know how to say this, cuz you’re really my dearest friend.”

TALK ME DOWN- this one just has the best friends pining for eachother vibe. “I wanna sleep next to you, and that’s all I wanna do right now.”

Dark paradise- kinda has dream smp vibes. but also you could argue heatwaves vibes. “Everytime I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise.” “There’s no relief, I see you in my sleep.” “There��s no release, I feel you in my dreams.”

Sweater weather- yeah you know why. you absolutely know why. “All I am is a man, I want the world in my hands. I hate the beach but I stand, in California with my toes in the sand.”

Drop the Guillotine- idk man just vibey. give it a listen you’ll get it. it’ll click. “You sure know how to drop that guillotine on me, though you would never wanna see me bleed.”

Can I call you tonight?- thats on their only for of communication being through the phone huh. (major heatwaves vibe) “powers out and I can’t turn the fan on, so can I call you tonight? trying make up my mind, just how I feel.”-“I hear your voice on the phone, now I’m no longer alone.”

Lemon boy- oh my god this song. geogre do be seeing dream as his lemon boy. “I helped him plant his seeds and we’d mow the lawn in bad weather.”

Yellow- DREAM IS LITERALLY GEORGES YELLOW SHUT UP RIGHT NOW. “Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.” “For you I’d bleed myself dry.”

Like you do- first of all I love this song, second, this has dream being a little too attached vibes. The whole song is just them. “Lost in the blue, they don’t love me like you do, those chills that I knew they were nothing without you, and everyone else they don’t matter now. You’re the one I can’t lose, no one loves me like you do.” “Since I met you, all the gloomy days just seem to shine a little more brightly.”

I saw you in a dream- mega heatwaves vibe. “When I’m awake I can’t switch off,” “I saw you in a dream, you came to me. You were the sweetest apparition, such a pretty vision.”

Maybe you’re the reason- did someone say pining best friend who doesn’t know that they’re in love ? this song. this song right here. “I keep looking for something, even though I know that it’s not there. Maybe you’re the reason. And anytime I try to figure it out, you’re the only thing I can think about.”

The king- DREAM SMP VIBE. “You like me, well obviously, so why you tryna leave when you know that I’m the king?” “Other lovers give you no luck, cuz I’m the only one who’s made you fall in love.” “Playing with your heart cuz you gave me the throne.”

Sweet- an adorable song truly that actually fits them so well. “Watching the, video that you sent me- you know that I’m obsessed with your body, but it’s the way you smile that does it for me.” “It’s so sweet, knowing that you love me.”

Apocalypse- um okay here me out, apocalypse au?? yeah i know it’s cute as shit you’re welcome. “Your lips my lips, apocalypse.” “When you’re all alone, I will reach for you, when you’re feeling low, I will be there too.”

Fear of the Water- don’t come for me this ones kinda sad, beautiful song though. “If this was meant for me why does it hurt so much, and if you’re not made for me why did we fall in love?”

Dreaming of you- two words, heat. waves. but also yeah good song for them in general. “Want you all the time, and now I’m dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of you.”

Wires- uhhhhh dream smp vibe, dream villain arc n all . “If he said help me kill the president, id say he needs medicine.” “He said that I should take it in, listen to every word he’s speaking.”

Midnight love- it’s girl in love so, you already know how it issss. “I know I don’t want to, be the one that you run to, when you’ve got nowhere else to go, when you need some love.” “I always give in to give you it all.” “I can’t be your midnight love, when your silver is my gold.”

The beach- SUCH A HEATWAVES SONG JUST LISTEN. “I feel it burning me, I feel it burning you.” “I think I can see the beach, I know what’s underneath. I need you here with me,”

Cherry flavored- the neighborhood just.. they have a dnf vibe. “Cherry flavored conversations with you got me hanging on. Down to earth from all the waiting. Take me somewhere beyond.”

Pretty boy- geogre is a pretty boy. point blank period. “Even if my heart stops beating, you’re the only thing I need with me.” “Pretty boy, you did this with me boy.” “As long as I got you, I’m gonna be alright.”

Bad idea- girl in reddd... but like imagine them casually hooking up and not knowing their in love tho. also I feel like they would definitely think that their relationship is a “bad idea” bc they’re stupid. “It was a bad idea, to think I could stop, was such a bad idea, I can’t get enough.” “Darling your so pretty it hurts.”

Line without a hook- ICONIC!! dream definitely does not think that he deserves george. “You can hold my hand if no ones home.” “All my emotions feel like explosions when you are around” “Oh baby I am a wreck without you.” “She’s a, she’s a lady, and I am just a boy. She’s a, she’s a lady, and I am just a line without a hook.”

Say you hate me- mega dream smp vibes as of recently. with the whole removing geogre as king. “I guess that your friends where right, from the start when they thought that I was a bad guy.” “Can you just say that you hate me? Or that you will never love me?” “Never meant to make you leave, never meant to make you cry.”

Cherry bomb- reminds me of how dream cheated on fundy with geogre. “I’m too close to crushing, and I’m too close for comfort I’m rushing.” “I ask how shes so mellow, she tells me her shades are in yellow.”

This side of paradise- I mean, like, kinda heatwaves vibes, but also just them. “Ask me why my hearts inside my throat. I’ve never been in love I’ve been alone.” “If you’re lonley come be lonley with me.”

Linger- geogre literally has that boy wrapped around his finger and I can’t not see it in this song. But when you look into it HELLA dream smp vibes, lyrics can be switched for either perspective here. “You know I’m such a fool for you, you got me wrapped around your finger.” “I thought the world of you, I thought nothing could go wrong, but I was wrong,”

august- i don’t know what is but this song is for them. it just is. “To live for the hope of it all. Cancel plans just in case you'd call” “So much for summer love, and saying “Us” Cause you weren't mine to lose”

I was an island- i just love the idea of them being hardasses and not thinking they need anyone until the other comes into their life and rocks their world. kinda dream smp vibes “I was a fighter, and I was so brave, but I lowered my sword when you held me and swore you’d stay.” “I was a wolf, dear, apart from the pac But you answered my cries in the dead of the night and told me that you had my back,”

Golden- k this one feeds into the “you’re literally the sun in my sky I’m not worthy” feel “I know you were way too bright for me I'm hopeless, broken” “I know that you're scared Because hearts get broken” “I can feel you take control Of who I am and all I've ever known Loving you's the antidote”

Strong- ummm okay but the “we’re better together” dynamic is them “I’m sorry if I say I need ya, but I don’t care I’m not scared of love.” “when I’m not with you I’m weaker is that so wrong? Is it so wrong, that you make me strong.”

Fly out west- the whole, I need to see you, you’re all I think about, stuff gets me. also heatwaves vibe. “Well tell me do you know? You’re all I dream about. Take it from me I’m too dumb to recognize your doubt.”

Cruel summer- them and summer, you dig? “I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you.” “I love you and that the worst thing you ever heard?”

Nothings gonna hurt you baby- I put this one on here because of how protective dream is over geogre “Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, as long as your with me you’ll be just fine. Nothings gonna hurt you baby, nothings gonna take you from my side.”

Cardigan- young love, the kind of lover that makes you feel like you are the most important thing in the world to them “when you are young they assume you know nothing, but I knew you-“ “and when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite.”

Cry baby- them being in that weird stage where they recognize that it might be more than just senseless flirting and they might have feelings but also being paranoid that they’re the only one with feelings uh- “I can taste it my hearts breaking, please don’t say it. That you know, when you know.” “I know I’ll fall in love with you baby, but that’s not what I wanna do baby.”

Speak now- literally the fundy dream wedding. i rest my case. “I hear the preacher say speak no or forever hold your peace.” “Dont say yes runaway now.”

I love you so- this song is cute on the surface but kinda sad once you look into it. it’s kinda about a codependent love that isn’t going well. “I gotta get away and let you go I gotta get over, but I love you so.” “You were cool and I’m a fool so please let me go.”

In conclusion I’d really appreciate if you could check it out :) <3

[drtanner]

TANNER’S PROGRESS REPORT: JULY 18TH 2022 (MON)

We survived the first day of this awful, record-breaking heatwave, I am relieved to announce! It got a little uncomfortable in here towards the end of the day but by the time it was over 30°C in here, the temperature outdoors was starting to fall and we could open the windows to cool us down again. Keeping everything shut up during the day definitely paid dividends and I really hope that it'll keep us safe and reasonably comfortable again tomorrow.

Or rather today, because it's 8am as I'm writing this, lmao. I've got a delivery coming from HelloFresh at some point today and since they can come early, I wanted to make sure I was awake to receive it so that it didn't cook inside the fucking box while it was sitting outside waiting for me to pick it up. The ice they pack inside the box won't last long at all in the temperatures we're going to get. Wednesday and onwards are going to be far more typical, ~25°C during the day and back down towards 12-15°C at night, so we've just gotta get through one more day of this horseshit and we'll be alright.

I did a really good book write today! Lots of progress made, very pleased with myself. Got us over a stubborn hump that I'd been stuck on the last time I left the book the other night, so we're ready to go when we sit down to write again tomorrow (today). That said, if it does get too hot to concentrate comfortably, I won't be pressing too hard to keep going.

Wish us luck, lmao.

[wyattjohnston]

into moonlight - anthony beauvillier

series:  into moonlight

note: this is for @kempe​ as part of The Winter Gift Exchange over at @hockeynetwork​! I really hope you enjoy it! Thanks to @home-for-hughnukkah​, @huttons, @danglesnipecelly​ and @thevezinamonologues​ for helping me out with this fic in one way or another!

word count: 8,166

summary: a series of encounters, the circumstances varying, and a rule or two that might need to be rethought.

warnings: alcohol, implied sex

songs: happiness is a butterfly - lana del ray | nightfall - little big town | only us - kygo & haux

Meeting Anthony Beauvillier had been an uneventful occasion. There had been so many people milling about, and Maggie had been introduced to all of them; he was just another name, another face—no matter how attractive—and she hadn’t thought twice about him.

The second time, though… The second time was something Maggie was never going to forget.

He was louder than she ever could have anticipated—a weird thought to have about a professional hockey player, certainly—but if, the first time, he’d been effectively standing on tables singing his heart out he would never have left Maggie’s mind.

She was transfixed by him shouting lyrics to a remix of a song that she’d heard in every club, every time she’d been in one for the better part of three months. He didn’t seem nearly as over it as her.

“We staring at Tito?”

“No, Peyton, we are not staring at Tito,” Maggie said dryly, her eyes lingering as Tito removed his shirt seemingly for no reason. Not that a reason was needed when he looked like he did.

“I’m going to stare at Tito,” Peyton said dreamily.

Maggie sat up straight, and stated confidently, “I’m going to go get Tito.”

Maggie was moving, multiple steps away from the table when Peyton spoke so all her words were lost in the club’s noise, becoming part of the ambiance.

Only as she reached him, her hand on his shoulder to get him to look at her, did Maggie face the briefest moment of hesitation—it all disappeared when suddenly he was looking at her as intensely as she’d been looking at him.

His lips were on hers quick enough that Maggie didn’t know who initiated it—not that it mattered because her hands were roaming over every single muscle in his bare back, his hands tight on the backs of her thighs, pushing her skirt up dangerously high.

Over her head, Derick’s distinct voice started speaking rapid fire French, and then Tito was breaking their kiss to shout back in English. Maggie didn’t whine but she did press ever closer to Tito, trying to get him to remember that she was right there.

Almost as if he could hear her telepathically, Tito squeezed her thighs, pulling her even closer. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“We’ve gotta get out of here.”

Maggie smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling, and nodded.

It was hot outside—Maggie had been hoping for a nice breeze after the sweltering club and was sorely disappointed when she was hit with a wall of hot air. Not even the dark of night could temper the heatwave the state was going through.

The thing about clubs is that they’re expensive—the outfit, the makeup, the Uber, the cover charge, the drinks. All of it adds up. So, if someone offered to buy her drinks and eliminate one of those costs? Sometimes a girl has to say yes.

She could have sat herself down at the Isles’ table and mooched off their bottle service but that would mean leaving Chris behind on the dance floor.

With her chest pressed firmly against Chris’, Maggie startled when a hand appeared on her back. Looking over her shoulder, she laughed when she saw Mat lurking.

“That’s not Tito,” he laughed, leaning in to speak into her ear.

“It doesn’t have to be,” she shrugged. “It was one night.”

“When he gets bored, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Maggie used her shoulder to push Mat away, let him know that his presence was no longer appreciated. Chris was furrowing his brow when she turned back to him—she pulled him in for a kiss, not caring what he’d heard and definitely not caring enough to explain anything to him anyway.

There was little chance, in her mind, that Tito would get bored with the girl he’d found—she was gorgeous, bubbly and a genuinely wonderful person. Maggie knew all those things for certain because they ran in the same circles.

As she was leaving Tito’s, after their very memorable second meeting, they’d agreed that it wouldn’t happen again, that neither of them needed a relationship or even something that was just sex—neither of them were short of options. It was perfectly proven and solidified by both of them finding someone almost as soon as they entered the club.

“Drink?” she breathed into Chris’ ear, needing a break from the sweat dripping down her spine and the blister forming on the back of her left heel.

They leaned against the bar beside each other, the bartender much more focused on serving the players who had wandered from their tables.

“You and Beauvillier? Is that what I heard?” Chris asked, his hand brushing the skin between her skirt and top.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugged, her fingers hanging loosely from his belt. “Barzy’s full of shit.”

Chris seemed to agree—if Maggie ran in the same circles as Tito’s partner of the night, it wasn’t far-fetched for Chris to run in the same circles as the boys.

Finally, the bartender appeared at their end of the bar.

“The guy up there says your drinks are on him.”

At the other end of the bar, Tito raised his glass, before he stepped away, out of sight.

Maggie rolled her eyes, said to Chris, “It’s on whichever new guy has been conned into picking up the tab,” and ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, all alcohol being top shelf and top shelf only.

The night went on, Maggie grew dreary sometime around midnight but her second wind kicked in shortly after when Peyton arrived.

And it was great, except it wasn’t.

Chris was following her around so closely and unwaveringly that Maggie could feel some discomfort begin to settle under her skin. Normally it wouldn’t have bothered her, except she had assured him she’d find him after she’d caught up with Peyton. He wasn’t letting it go.

“Get a drink with me?” She asked him, her gaze drifting over to the bar.

Chris agreed instantly, his arm draping over her shoulders as they left Peyton sitting in a booth with a guy she’d come with.

Maggie moved purposely and directly to a specific person who was leaning his elbows on the bar. He was alone, thankfully, for the first time that night. She tapped his shoulder.

“Enjoying your free drinks?” Tito asked, his eyes instantly drawn to the arm across her shoulders.

“You should take me home,” she told him. Chris’ arm tensed and then fell back to his side.

“What the fuck?” Chris asked, readying to turn on her. Tito was right there, though, getting right up in his face.

“You got something you want to say?”

Chris deflated and left them. Tito stepped back to lean against the bar. Maggie tapped his shoulder again.

“I wasn’t kidding, Tito, take me home.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He stood up and Maggie realised that his lady of the evening was actually sitting right beside him.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, noticing Maggie’s shock. “This isn’t a surprise.”

Tito was pulling Maggie away before she was able to ask what that meant. She was about to ask Tito, until she saw Mat’s stupid, knowing smile as they passed him.

It didn’t take long for Tito to learn that if he was going to show up at Maggie & Peyton’s that he needed to let Maggie know—even if Maggie had invited him. With Maggie and Peyton both home, meaning there was no way one of them could have forgotten their key, and no food being delivered, neither of them would even consider getting up to answer it.

A Pavlovian response had developed; the doorbell rang, and Maggie picked up her phone. Sure enough, Tito texted her a second later and Maggie was heading to let him in.

The Islanders had played that evening though some would argue that they hadn’t even turned up. Before she had met the team, when they were just her sports team and not her friends, Maggie would have been inclined to agree with them; it was different seeing Tito standing on her doorstep with sunken eyes and slumped shoulders.

“Is there even anything I can do?” Maggie asked quietly, reaching for his arm so that she could pull him inside and lock up.

“I just want to sleep.”

She wouldn’t begrudge him that, yet she still said, “You can do that at home, though?”

“Please?” He asked, his voice small and his head low, like he didn’t want to be asking her.

With the hand still on his arm, Maggie guided him to her room. She blew out the candles in the living room as she passed, only being able to navigate the darkness through sheer memory.

Silently they both crawled into her bed. The TV on her wall was waiting for her to continue Shameless and she held the remote, ready to turn it off as soon as Tito asked. She sat up against the headboard, pillows propped up behind her, waiting for him to speak, and she startled when he shimmied down and rested his head in her lap. Before she pressed play, she turned the volume down in case Tito actually wanted to sleep.

Carefully, she removed his glasses, putting them on her bedside table. His hair was soft as she ran her fingers through it.

“The season’s still young, Tito, it’s barely even started,” she whispered.

“We shouldn’t be so bad already.”

“Shit happens. Onwards and upwards.”

His grunt told her that he didn’t get any comfort from her words—they were cliché and meaningless anyway, so she wasn’t offended.

Before the episode had even finished, Tito was asleep in her lap, his arm wrapped around her thighs. Maggie turned off the television and extricated herself from Tito’s hold so that she could lay flat beside him. Despite the jostling, Tito didn’t even make a noise.

Maggie traced over the letters on the inside of his upper arm; she didn’t have the faintest idea what they said and asking felt too intimate.

There was no way of knowing how long she slept for, wrapped around Tito and holding him close, because when Tito next moved, she could barely even see him even after her eyes adjusted.

“I’ve gotta get on a plane,” he whispered into the dark, not making any attempts to get out of bed.

“Now is a stupid time to get on a plane,” Maggie grumbled.

“My stuff’s all back at my place, I kind of need it.”

“Have fun,” she said, her eyes fluttering shut as she smiled. “There’s many Ws with your name on them.”

He kissed her forehead, his hand on the back of her head, and held it for a few seconds before he was up and gone.

Maggie was back asleep before the front door opened.

Every so often, Maggie and Peyton splurged on a dinner at a fancy restaurant; a treat to themselves without any reason. A steakhouse was their choice for the evening.

They stood at the front, waiting to be seated when somebody said both of their names, delightedly.

“What a coincidence!”

Maggie turned, Grace and Anders Lee behind her. Grace was pulling her into a hug instantly before moving on to Peyton.

“You can join us if you want,” Anders offered.

“You don’t want us ruining date night.”

“You aren’t ruining anything,” Grace assured her. “Just a little group dinner.”

Maggie and Peyton agreed and followed them upstairs to the function room—not without telling the maître d’—and came across an assortment of Islanders and their partners.

Seats were shuffled around, making room for the two of them, and Lauren Eberle being entirely unsubtle in making sure Maggie was able to sit next to Tito.

Tito, who didn’t react at all to her arrival; it put her off kilter. Everyone else had welcomed her and Peyton with a hug or, at the very least, a smile and wave, but Tito hadn’t even bothered to stop his conversation with Derick. Despite the fact that Derick stopped mid-sentence to greet them.

Maggie tried to get Tito’s attention with a hand on Tito’s thigh—when it became clear that he was ignoring her, she retracted her hand, turned to her other side, and began a conversation with Lauren about how hard it would be to pick up a musical instrument for the first time as an adult.

Drinks were ordered—mostly bottles of wine for the table, from vineyards that Maggie only knew of because of her father’s extensive collection—and Maggie felt herself settle in as the alcohol did. Beside her, Tito didn’t show any signs of relaxing.

Peyton kept frowning at her across the table, but Maggie was resolutely ignoring the looks because there was nothing she could say—she didn’t have an answer as to why he was behaving like a badly burned ex. Others at the table were being more subtle with their curious looks.

Food was ordered and eaten, and Maggie spent all of it speaking with Lauren and Peyton. She kept her back purposely turned to Tito; not that it mattered when he still wasn’t making an effort to talk to her.

She excused herself to go to the bathroom whilst they all waited for dessert and resolutely shook her head at Peyton who was preparing to join her. It would have been a good idea to let Peyton escort her, because somebody else was waiting for her in the hall.

The hall was painfully small as it was, fit for exactly one person to walk through it head on and two people at a squeeze if they turned sideways.

Tito was trying to be cool and casual, leaning against the wall and staring at his phone. He didn’t even look at her as she got closer and turned sideways to pass him.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his voice hoarse, his hand encircling her wrist to get her to stop.

“So, you do know I’m here.”

“I always know when you’re in the room.”

Maggie’s eyes fell to the floor, rolling painfully hard as they did. She kept her mouth shut, though, waiting for him to offer up an explanation unprompted. And she waited for what could have been hours, just the two of them in the tiny hall, his hand still on her wrist.

When he did break the silence, his voice was tight.

“I don’t invite girls to team dinners and stuff.”

“Clearly, because you didn’t invite me.”

“But you’re here, and I don’t even remember mentioning it and it’s—it’s a bit stalker-y.”

“Peyton and I just happened to be here; Grace and Anders saw us downstairs and invited us up. I’m not here as your girlfriend or whatever,” she snapped, “but that doesn’t mean you get to pretend I don’t even exist.”

Tito dropped his head, his chin meeting his chest. He said sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I should know you’re not a stalker.”

Maggie shrugged, reaching up to poke his chest. She smiled as she said, “There’s still plenty of time for that to happen.”

Tito tugged lightly on her arm; Maggie let herself be pulled into him. He let her go, her hand fell to his chest and his were loose against her waist. She kissed him, easily, freely. It wasn’t going to lead to anything—at least not right at that moment—but it was nice while it lasted. Just the two of them, hidden away from everyone else.

Eventually they did return to the table with lips much redder and more swollen than when they’d left. All eyes—every single one—was on them and they all had ideas about what had transpired.

Winter was well and truly settled in New York. The temperature had dropped considerably, and it constantly felt like snow was only moments away—it never did come, though. The streets didn’t change colour once.

Flames of Maggie’s hanukkiah flickered on the mantle while Maggie and Peyton curled up underneath blankets on the couch beside Peyton’s lavishly decorated and brightly lit Christmas tree.

Maggie hadn’t put down her phone all evening—the Instagram stories across Maggie’s screen were filled with images and videos of an event Maggie had been sure she was going to get invited to.

It wasn’t anything formal, and certainly wasn’t an Islanders sanctioned event, so, when people started mentioning that there was going to be a team Holiday Party—and the insistence on it being a Holiday party and not a Christmas Party—Maggie had started thinking about when Tito was going to ask her.

Given that she was sitting on her couch watching those Instagram stories, and that her brand new velvet dress and winter coat were hanging, unworn, in her closet, Tito was sticking to his word about not inviting girls to team events.

The whole thing had been compounded even further when Grace called her to apologise profusely for bringing it up so often—that they wouldn’t have if they’d known Tito wasn’t going to invite her. They couldn’t have known. Maggie wished she hadn’t gotten her hopes up.

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Peyton said, not for the first time that night.

“I’m not upset—confused maybe,” Maggie sighed. “I thought that this might be the thing that changed his mind—that changed us.”

“You’re allowed to be upset—you’re friends, right? Even if he’s got his dumb little rule, he could have at least asked you as a friend.”

“We’re not friends,” Maggie said slowly. “We fuck under the cover of night. I don’t know anything about him.”

Peyton’s scoff was loud but not evil. Mostly it was just disbelieving, like the words that follow: “Bet you know more about him than you think you do.”

“Is there a point you’re trying to make?”

“You’re allowed to be upset.”

“You’re literally a broken record.” Maggie picked at a fraying edge of her blanket. She relented, though it was tightly and not without pause. “I’m upset because, for the first time ever, I’m the one who’s more invested.”

“Oh, honey,” Peyton cooed. She leaned over on the couch to manhandle Maggie into a position where they were cuddling.

Maggie felt it unnecessary, because upset was still a slight exaggeration—confused was definitely the most appropriate, with a slight hurt coming in second—but she let herself be cuddled.

With her hands free, she was able to check for more updates from the girls’ Instas. In the background of one, Grace had Tito cornered. To most it wouldn’t raise any eyebrows, but Maggie knew whatever the conversation was, it was about her.

Maggie was looking at her phone when the text came through; she’d picked it up out of habit the second the doorbell rang.

It’s me! Tito’s message said.

She walked to the front door; the house illuminated solely by the lights of Peyton’s Christmas tree. Nervous energy filled her but she didn’t really know why. She didn’t hold any grudges against Tito for not being invited—he’d explicitly told her little more than a month prior that he didn’t extend invites for team related events so how could she be mad at him for keeping his word?

His grin was as big and sincere as ever, though partially hidden by a scarf. He was wearing his glasses; Maggie sighed. He was also carrying a shopping bag with Cartier written boldly on the side. Maggie sincerely hoped it was carrying food.

He walked past her casually, like always. Instead of walking straight to her room, he stopped just behind her. She turned around to see him holding the bag out towards her.

“Merry Christmas!” He said jovially, his smile somehow growing even larger. Maggie blinked at him, frowning, until he asked, “What?”

“I’m Jewish.”

Tito wasn’t going to let that stop him, he nodded and tried, “Happy Holidays?” while pushing the bag towards her again.

“Happy Hanukkah—but it’s over now, so…”

“Do you not get gifts for Hanukkah?”

“Not traditionally, no. Whatever’s in there… I really can’t accept it. Especially if it’s you trying to get me to forgive you. Mostly because I already know you’re stupid for spending any money on me, let alone that much.”

“I bought it last week. It’s for you, please take it.”

Maggie did, because he sounded seconds away from begging; she took the bag by the handles and hated the weight of it in her hands. Anything inside was going to be ridiculously expensive. Maggie liked the finer things in life—a by-product of her parents divorcing and both trying their hardest to be the favourite parent—which wasn’t abnormal, really. What she didn’t like was the implication that accepting it was forgiving Tito of any transgressions. Transgressions he might not even be aware of.

“Did you have fun at the party?” She asked, passive aggressively.

“Yeah, it was a good time. Grace told me that you helped out a lot—you should have said something.”

“You wouldn’t have invited me anyway, so what would the point have been?”

“We can stop if not being invited places is a dealbreaker, Maggie. It’d suck because I like spending time with you—I like it a lot. Team stuff is a huge commitment, more than you’ve even realised.”

Commitment wasn’t necessarily a fear of Maggie’s, though it sounded like Tito was equating team events to a marriage proposal so she shut her mouth and set the Cartier bag on the table so that she could pull the jewellery box from the bag.

Opening it was hard, Maggie definitely feared whatever was inside—and she was right to. Because inside was a pair of earrings, a gorgeous gold with beautiful diamonds filling the outer side. Maggie snapped the lid back shut, grabbed Tito’s wrist, and forced the jewellery box into his hand.

“You hate them,” he sighed, dejected, his fingers curling around the red box and he pulled it protectively to his chest.

“I don’t hate them at all, Tito. They’re gorgeous—I just know how much they cost.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I spend a lot of time on the Cartier website window shopping.”

Tito’s hand relaxed, and he extended the box out to her. He said, “I bought them for you and I really want you to have them.”

Arguing more would be rude and, despite how badly she wanted to protest until he backed down, Maggie bit her tongue and nodded, extending her hand palm out so that he could drop the box into it. She opened the box again, her brain going fuzzy at the sight of it.

“Thank you, Tito,” Maggie whispered, looking up at him through her eyelashes and allowing the corners of her lips to turn up.

He stood still in front of her, watching her carefully. Maggie snapped the box shut and leaned in to kiss him softly. It was a brief kiss, because she slipped her hands under his jacket only to have him hold her wrists to prevent her from getting any further.

“I have to get my family from the airport. I’m sorry.”

Maggie pouted. Tito pressed another kiss to her lips. He lowered her hands back to her sides instead of letting them drop and promised her he would be back before she knew it.

Tito kept his word, showing up a few nights later with more shopping bags. Maggie nearly refused to let him in.

“What are you doing?” She asked in absolute disbelief, the words barely coming out.

“So, the necklace… I am making up for missing all eight days of Hanukkah by giving by you the other seven presents.”

Everything was placed on the coffee table, a not insignificant thud accompanying the weighted drop. Tito’s smile was infectious and, as much as she tried, Maggie couldn’t keep a straight face. She stepped into him, her arms wrapping easily around his waist and her face burying into his neck.

“Presents aren’t a big thing, Tito—didn’t I say that?” She asked, desperately trying not to panic when she pulled back and looked back at what he’d brought her.

“It’s an important holiday for you and I want to be supportive.”

“It’s—like, I mean it’s not one of the Big Ones. It’s not a High Holy Day; they all happened back in September and October.”

“Hanukkah’s not important?” He frowned, confused.

“Not what I said. I really appreciate that you want to be supportive and you’ve clearly looked into this if you know that some people do eight days of presents—I just don’t want you think you have to buy me things. Especially expensive things.”

“Too late, I already bought them,” he said firmly, opening one of the bags. “I also read somewhere that you should try to not give Hanukkah gifts on Christmas.”

“Sure—they aren’t Christmas gifts and shouldn’t really be lumped in with it,” Maggie said, her certainty wavering as Tito place individually wrapped, increasingly large presents on the coffee table in followed by a small envelope that he handed to her.

Each of them was wrapped in blue and silver paper and she felt herself soften, knowing he’d gone to the effort of buying paper that wasn’t Christmas themed or coloured just for her.

She opted to open the envelope in her hands, revealing a spa day for two.  Tito’s face told her that he was the one who was supposed to go with her.

Maggie’s hands shook as she went through the rest of the gifts, particularly when she saw the Cartier gift boxes. One by one she opened a necklace, a bracelet, and a ring—all in the same collection as the earrings she hadn’t yet taken out of their box. The next three boxes were much larger, and one was heavy that she struggled to move it even to make room.

It took all her self-control to not swear at him when they were all open in front of her—an espresso machine, a Balenciaga purse, and a pair of Louboutin boots adding to the spa day and the jewellery. It made her sick to her stomach to accept the presents but Tito’s persistence about the earrings knew he wouldn’t take them back.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I really don’t know what to say, Tito.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he assured her, his smile softening. “Happy Hanukkah, Maggie.”

“I got you something, too,” she said quietly, almost to herself, as she slipped down the hall into her bedroom.

From the top of her dresser, she picked up a small present that she weighed in her hands for a few silent moments before she gathered up the courage to take it out to Tito.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he told her, looking repeatedly between the present and her face.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Maggie scoffed, gesturing to the coffee table. “This is really inadequate compared to what you just gave me but—Merry Christmas, Tito.”

When the present was in his hand, Tito sat down on her sofa and tore at the paper like a child. All it was, was a cashmere travel kit containing an eye mask, a blanket, and some socks, that she wasn’t even sure he would even need let alone want.

Tito held the blanket to his cheek, shamelessly rubbing against it and muttering in French. It was the first time she’d ever heard him speak it, and she felt it in every part of her body.

“So, you like it?” Maggie asked timidly, almost not wanting to ruin the moment he was having.

“This is the softest thing I’ve ever touched,” he sighed, then shifted on a dime, winked, and continued, “except for you, of course.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, smiling all the while, and fighting the swirl of her stomach. Tito put the blanket down in his lap and outstretched his arms to her, his fingers wiggling at her to get her to come to him.

“Don’t you have to leave?” she asked, even as she moved to sit in his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck. “Peyton’s staying at her parents tonight, she’s always telling me how big a deal Christmas morning is.”

“I can be home before they even wake up.”

December ended, January passed by quickly and uneventfully and February brought red hearts in every shop window.

Valentine’s Day had never been big for Maggie, having not been in a relationship for a February 14th ever—when she was 19, she’d been close, but it had ended a week before. Her memory was hazy about how it really ended but it definitely had something to do with being too poor or too lazy to do Valentine’s Day properly.

She was in luck, though, because the Islanders were in Buffalo for Valentine’s Day so all the partners had gathered at the Lee’s home for a Not-So-Lonely Hearts dinner. Grace had gone all out with the decorating—or the person she’d hired had gone all out.

Maggie had made one brief, passing comment about how it must be nice to be able to hire people to take the hassle out of hosting parties and Grace had assured her that, the way Tito was playing, Maggie would be able to do the same before she knew it. It had Maggie tipping her head back and silently finishing her glass of champagne in one breath.

Lauren’s iPad rang later in the evening, and she opened up the FaceTime call and gathered as many of the ladies as she could, having coordinated a group call with Jordan one the team got back to the hotel. Maggie was barely in frame, not even purposely, but she could see the screen and the boys all huddled around it.

It was essentially just Lauren recapping the night while everyone sat, waving, smiling and occasionally adding some colour commentary to the conversation. Maggie didn’t even lift her head until she heard her name from Lauren’s mouth, followed by the jokingly disparaging remark that Maggie was a few drinks ahead of everyone else.

Her rebuttal was cut short as her phone dinged in her hand and Tito’s name showed on her screen.

“You can talk to each other,” Sydney said, bullying Maggie into frame.

The only reason Maggie didn’t put up a fight was because she didn’t want to cause a scene.

Tito was staring back at her, his brow creased and his mouth pulled tight.

“Hey,” she said, hopefully, smiling in the hopes that he would find it contagious.

“We talked about this,” he said, quietly, emotionless.

“Can we have this conversation later, please?”

“Why’d you think it was okay, Maggie? To be there?” To dig the knife in, he added, “Why do you keep trying to force your way into my life?”

Maggie scoffed, losing the desire to be meek and mild mannered.

“Your life? I know that you can’t stand it, but these girls are my friends. If you really have to know, Peyton was also invited but she’s the only one who wasn’t dumb enough to fall in love with a hockey player, so her man is actually in town.”

“Maggie—” Tito said swiftly, but Maggie powered on.

“So, what we’re not going to do is continue this conversation where all of our friends can hear us, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow because even though you’re mad that I’m here right now, you’ll still be at my door.”

She moved out of frame then, biting her cheek to try and control the panic and sadness washing over her. She found Grace amongst all the women who were looking at her with varying levels of confusion, some of them were down right pitying her, and apologised for causing a scene and also for leaving before the night was done. There was no way Maggie could stay after what had just transpired.

The wind was whipping around her body, her own Louboutin footprints being left in the light dusting of snow, and the moon lighting her way to the sidewalk where she would wait for a taxi.

There was no way Maggie was going to cry over it, he wasn’t with it, really, and they had indeed talked about her attending team events so what right did she have?

Maggie shrugged off the hand on her shoulders, desperate not to wake properly—it felt like she’d barely been asleep for half an hour. The shaking only got more persistent and she groaned as she forced her eyes open.

“What, Tito?” Maggie asked, burying her face as deep as she could into the pillow.

“You’ve gotta go, Maggie.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not kidding—you’ve gotta get out of her,” he repeated.

The mattress shifted, Tito getting out of the bed. Maggie reached over to pull her phone off the bedside table.

“Tito, it’s two o’clock—what the fuck?”

The bedroom light turned on; Maggie squinted. Tito threw a hoodie on her lap.

“You’ve just gotta go.”

Maggie made fists in the hoodie and tried desperately to find the joke as Tito twitched, moving from foot to foot at his bedroom door. Never had she seen him so serious, though, and her fists got tighter in the hoodie.

“Fine,” she huffed.

She stomped around the room, swiping her things from the floor as she went. Tito never left his spot near the door. Not even when Maggie stalked past him, only not entirely naked because of the bundle of clothes she was clutching to her chest. The stomping didn’t stop until she could throw the clothes on the couch and dress. Despite the fire inside of her, she pulled Tito’s hoodie on over her clothes.

“You’re really going to give me nothing?” she asked Tito, hearing his footsteps enter the room.

He merely stood at the other end of the couch, his mouth firmly shut, his face giving away no emotion.

Maggie inhaled much shakier than she was expecting and nodded stiffly to herself. She was pleading internally for him to do something, say anything, while she slowly picked up her bag and moved towards the door. She let her hand linger on the door handle, the time agonizingly and desperately long, until it became perfectly clear that he wasn’t going to stop her.

Outside was bitterly cold with no clouds to trap in any warmth. The waning moon was high and lit up the entire night sky, and the sidewalk beneath it. Maddie shivered, only then realising that she could need to hope there was an Uber nearby because there certainly weren’t any taxis. That is, there were no taxis until an engine disturbed the quiet street and one rounded the corner.

Maggie couldn’t believe her luck, nor was she going to question it, so she stood close enough that it was clear she was getting in as soon as whoever was inside got out.

Said person was a young woman who looked far too put together for two in the morning; said person who smile at Maggie easily. Said person who slipped through the front door that Maggie had just come out of. Without so much as a knock.

Maggie forgot how to use her limbs, her brain conjuring up the image of Tito welcoming her in with open arms and a tender kiss—

“You wanna go somewhere?” the driver asked, leaning back to talk through the still open door.

With concrete heavy legs, Maggie forced herself into the backseat. Her breathing was getting shallower by the second as she fumbled with her phone. The screen was surprisingly blurry, apparently tears had begun to form, but she managed to type out a text to Tito.

never call me again.

I’ll call you in the morning, he texted back almost immediately.

don't. i’m not kidding. whatever we are is over.

It was becoming tiresome to sit on the couch with Peyton at the other end, wrapped in a blanket and drinking coffee—the only thing that had changed was that the coffee was courtesy of their new espresso machine.

“He didn’t even mention Valentine’s Day,” Maggie huffed. “He invited me over, fucked me and then booted me out so that he could fuck someone else.”

“Does he need to bring it up? You knew you were running the gauntlet by going—we discussed it at length.”

Maggie shrugged childishly and drew the blanket up over her mouth, so her next sentence was muffled.

“I should’ve listened to my mom and tried to find a nice Jewish boy. A nice Jewish boy wouldn’t pull this shit.”

“I’ve met your mom and she would never tell you who you should be dating.”

“Maybe she should start.”

“What do you want, Maggie? Because I can’t help you until you know what you want.”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Maggie sighed, frustrated, “I want to live on a farm. I want a dairy farm that’s mine and so many cows that people don’t believe that I remember all their names and to have to wake up when the moon is still in the sky to milk them—I can’t have that and Tito.”

“Well right now you don’t have either of them, so maybe work on one and then start thinking about the other,” Peyton said. “If you want my opinion—Tito’s probably easier than an entire dairy farm.”

“I don’t even think that’s true.”

“No, no, none of that,” Peyton insisted, giving Maggie a small shake with her foot. “Don’t assume it’s impossible before you’ve even tried.”

“Daddy would probably buy me a farm, though,” Maggie said quietly, knowing all too well that Peyton wouldn’t like that idea. Not least because her father couldn’t afford to buy her a dairy farm but because they’d both sat on that very couch and complained about how people didn’t take them seriously—and that wasn’t helped by them having their parents solve all of their problems.

True to form, Peyton huffed, “Don’t let your dad buy you a farm.”

“Like a loan, though?”

“You’re ridiculous. Tito first, farm later.”

“I don’t even know if I want Tito anymore.”

The words left Maggie’s mouth and she couldn’t have said if they were the truth or not. Perhaps she wanted so badly for it to be the truth that she was able to will them to be so.

“What he did was unbelievably shitty—you never set rules, though. Did you? The only rule was that Tito wasn’t going to take you to team stuff.”

Maggie’s stomach churned at how easily Peyton was able to piece things together, how easy it was for her to make sense of everything that had ever happened in Maggie’s life.

“I’ve never had to make rules before, so no,” Maggie said unhappily, crossing her arms childishly, “There are none.”

“Okay—so talk to him and set some?”

“I ended it,” Maggie admitted tightly. “There are no rules to set because it’s over—whatever ‘it’ was.”

It was nearly pitch-black outside, the broken streetlight unable to do its job in illuminating the street and the new moon providing no moonlight to help it.

Maggie yearned for a life where pitch black skies were the norm—where the stars were visible, and she could see the constellations and other planets with ease but the light outside her window would be fixed before it got dark again the next day.

There was an itch under her skin and there was only one thing that could properly scratch it. It pained her to do it, to pick up her phone and send the two-word text she’d been avoiding for two weeks.

come over, it said—Tito’s name at the top of her screen.

It took no time at all for the read receipt to appear; no response followed it. She shut off the screen and turned back to stare out her window.

Despite the painfully relentless itch, she found that she didn’t actually care if he responded to her—if he left her on read then it would be the sign, she needed to finally let it all go for good. Theoretically, at least.

Timed passed, how much Maggie didn’t know, and her stargazing was brought to an abrupt end with a knock on her door. Not a ringing doorbell, because the person on the other side was considerate enough to not do that so close to midnight.

It might have been Peyton, as she was notorious for forgetting her keys and was just as notorious for letting her phone battery die, so Maggie pushed herself off the bench window. Because she wasn’t entirely sure it was Peyton, Maggie pulled back the curtain beside the door, peaking through it to see Tito with his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans.

They made eye contact through the glass, destroying any chance of Maggie being able to pretend that she wasn’t actually home so she unlatched the locks and stood aside as she opened the door.

“The other week—”

“I didn’t ask you here to talk about that,” Maggie interrupted, firm and unyielding. The door shut forcefully, and the locks clicked loudly into place.

Tito was standing less than a foot away, his brow furrowed, and his mouth pulled tight. He asked, uncomfortably, “Why’d you ask me here, then?”

Maggie rolled her eyes, reached for the front of his shirt, and tugged him so close that they were breathing each other’s air.

“You’ve gotta be the only guy in the world who gets a booty call and doesn’t realise it’s a booty call.”

It’s exactly what it was, though, because it couldn’t be anything more. It was painful, in a way, to have that but nothing else and, still, Maggie pulled him to her bedroom because, in lieu of the indifference she wished she had, she would take the pain over the nothing.

She really expected him to leave after they’d had their fun, but Tito was sitting up against the headboard when Maggie returned from the bathroom, his glasses back on and his phone in his hand. He was smiling at something on his screen.

It would be so easy, Maggie realised, to crawl back into the bed and rest her head in his lap, just let herself be held, and, yet, when she did crawl into the bed, she made sure to turn her back to him.

“You can leave whenever.”

“What if I don’t want to leave?” he asked, uncertainly.

“You’ll have another booty call waiting for you,” she said tersely, pulling the covers up over her shoulders. “Can’t keep your next booty call waiting.”

The mattress sunk behind her and every muscle in her body tensed up; she expected his arm to drape over her waist. It didn’t, though, but she did feel his breath fan across her cheek.

“She’s a friend from back home. Just a friend.”

Maggie screwed her eyes shut; maybe she could screw them tight enough that she wouldn’t be able to hear it.

“That’s something you could have told me as you were kicking me out of your place in the middle of the night,” she snapped. “Why the fuck should I believe you now?”

Tito twitched minutely but he was so close to her that Maggie felt it. She could picture him flopping onto his back and sigh in exasperation, but he remained pressed up behind her.

“I didn’t know if it was cool for me to tell someone she’d never met about the shit going on in her life?” he said, his voice tight as he tried unsuccessful to keep the frustration out of it. “She was in Manhattan with her boyfriend and something went bad enough that she got a taxi all the way out here. I needed to ask her before I started telling people.”

Maggie screwed her eyes shut, her own frustration threatening to escape her in the form of tears. She fought them back, drew her blankets to her chin, and said, “You aren’t telling me anything—I haven’t even met her, so why would I care what you tell me? I’m not exactly going to be able to tell people she knows.”

“I had to at least ask her first.”

“You haven’t even told me anything—just that your friend was coming. Which is whatever but if you’d just said that at the time—”

“Would you have listened?”

He wasn’t mean about it, not really, just asking a genuine question. Maggie wouldn’t have, and she knew it, but the question hurt. Perhaps it hurt because it showed just how well Tito knew her.

“You should leave.”

“Maggie—just—”

“Just what?”

“Talk to me.”

“Talking’s not what we do.”

“I want it to be what we do.”

“Why now?” Maggie demanded, still refusing to look at him. “Why now and not in the beginning? Before you froze me out at the steakhouse? Why not when you didn’t even mention the holiday party? Why not after Valentine’s Day when everybody found out that we’re nothing but a giant mess?”

It was hard to have that conversation with her back to him—it was still easier than if she was forced to make eye contact. And she was grateful that he wasn’t trying to get her to when his next sentence left his mouth.

“I love you and I want you to come to team things as my girlfriend. I want to know everything about you and your family. I want you to meet mine.”

Maggie’s fists tightened in the blankets she had drawn to her chin, almost too afraid to ask, “When did you decide that?”

“Before I invited you over last time. I was going to make you breakfast and tell you but Clare showed up.”

“Valentine’s Day was still supremely awful.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry about it, Maggie. I was going to talk to you about that, too.”

“Did you get a talking to?”

Tito got sheepish, mumbling, “A Captain’s talking to. But I already knew I fucked up.”

Maggie inhaled, holding into the breath until her chest began to hurt.

“You don’t need to buy me things,” she told him.

“I like buying you things,” he said back, quietly, sincerely.

“No, I mean—don’t, please. You don’t need to buy me things to prove that you care about me. I just want you to be here.”

Tito nodded, she could feel it, and said, “I can tone it down. I do like buying you things, though. And I don’t just care about you. I love you.”.

“You love me?” She repeated—timid and worried that she’d misheard him twice.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his mouth right above her ear. “I love you a lot, Maggie. It scares me a bit.”

“It scares me, too—how easily you could ruin me because I love you, too.”

Tito laughed, despite how solemn their admissions had been, and wrapped his arm around Maggie’s waist. He was gleeful as he rolled onto his back, pulling her so that she was on top of him and then moving her so that they were chest to chest—tangled together in her bedding.

Maggie smiled down at him and something registered in her brain, “Girlfriend, huh?”

Tito hummed, both arms wrapping around her waist to hold her close. She let herself melt into him.

Summer arrived without any hesitation—it created the perfect weather for weddings which was supremely handy because it seemed like everyone Tito knew was getting married. Every wedding was more lavish than the one before it and all far more lavish than any Maggie had ever been to before, by virtue of being weddings for hockey players on multi-million-dollar contracts.

“This is basically my dream wedding,” Maggie said wistfully, admiring the pink tulips that were lining the rows of chairs that had been set out in front of a wedding arch that was covered predominantly in white and pink tulips.

“I’m taking notes,” Tito smiled earnestly.

Maggie startled, having forgotten for a moment that it was Tito by her side and not Peyton, her cheeks flamed, and she ducked her head.

Tito wasn’t at all perturbed by it, even though he had every right to be as their relationship was only officially 3 months old. It wouldn’t be them, but at least one couple at the wedding would be engaged by the time everyone was asleep.

She felt Tito’s breath against her ear as he pressed up against her back, as he whispered, “You’re the prettiest one here.”

“You say that all the time.”

“That’s because it’s true all the time,” he said, dropping his hands to her waist.

Maggie leant back into him, swaying lightly from side to side, delighting in the warmth of the sun.

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