#what if that meeting changed the trajectories of both of their lives | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

helenanell · 7 months ago

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A Breath of Life || Challengers

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Part Two

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

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

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

Wordcount: 9.7K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your prayer was answered.

She appeared before you like an angel.

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

“So, when can I play you again?”

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

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

Tashi had breathed life into you.

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The four of you had wandered down to the beach.

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

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

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

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

“Hey, are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You see Patrick’s licentious smirk.

You see Art’s coy smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re fucking with Tashi’s head.”

“I would never do that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“Do you love her, Art?”

“Can you please just answer my question?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You deserve to be loved.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your chest heaves as your flesh tingles.

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

“Patrick isn’t good for her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go fuck yourself.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ask me how I know.”

“No.” You spit back at him.

But you don’t move.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Art won’t let it go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why won’t he follow you?

Why do you still want him to?

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

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

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

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

You walk through the stands until you come across Art.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up, Patrick.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I felt sorry for you.”

Patrick laughs.

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

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

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

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

Art had been right about both of you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Inevitable.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you only ever pursued Tash-“

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

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

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

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

“Do that again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Art.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that had not changed.

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

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

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

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

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

You get down off the barstool.

As you approach, he watches unflinchingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you to sit with me?”

“I don’t know Art, can you?”

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

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

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

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

But he’s still close, too close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door to your room clicks shut.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop fucking asking me and just do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lay back.” He instructs gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You stared at Tashi.” You say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

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

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

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

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

Someone was knocking on your door.

And then you hear her voice.

Tashi is calling out your name, sounding almost panicked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She pulls back, taking your face in her hands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have a coach.”

“They’re not me.”

“No, they’re not.”

And just like that, you were snared again.

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

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

Only time would tell.

#challengers movie #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #mike faist #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #tashi x reader #zendaya #josh o'connor

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theemporium · 2 months ago

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[3.1k] after a spell goes wrong, you and lando are forced to hide the fact that oscar isn't quite himself during media day at the british grand prix. it goes about as well as you would expect ft. mediocre magic, a surprised max verstappen and a cute black cat.

[find other fright night specials here]

There was a lot more to being a witch than people expected.

It wasn’t all hocus pocus, waving a wand and standing around a bubbling cauldron whilst chanting in an ancient language under the moonlight. Don’t get it twisted, that was still a part of it. But there was more than cliches and stereotypes, things were a lot more complicated than reading from a spellbook and swishing a stick around.

It was hard.

Sometimes, it felt like that one subject in school that just never clicked. You were reading the textbooks, doing the homework and listening to the teacher but, no matter what, you couldn’t seem to get it quite right. Sometimes, you would eventually get it.

And sometimes, you were left in situations quite like this one.

Ideally—at least in the eyes of your grandmother—you would have done what every other young witch did at your age. You would have finished school, joined a coven and trained under the watchful eyes of the elders until you had successfully and safely mastered your magic. Upon reaching adulthood, a witch’s magic became more volatile, more unpredictable, more potent. It was vital for her to learn to control it before it overtook her.

Unfortunately for your grandmother’s sake, you didn’t want to settle down in a coven. You wanted to explore the world. You wanted to learn to control your magic through experience, not through old scrolls and grimoires. You wanted to live, not just survive and learn.

You did not want to be chained down by ancient rules and practices.

However, as much as it pained for you to admit it, you kind of wish you had listened to your grandmother around about now.

It was a funny series of events that led you to meet the two Mclaren drivers. It was somewhere during two race weekends a year ago, a meeting that happened by chance but changed the trajectory of all three of your lives. It was instant connections, late nights spent in hotels and a passion that was far from fizzling after your two weeks together were over.

And it bloomed.

You wanted to travel the world and they wanted to show you the world. You wanted to experience life beyond a witch’s expectations and they wanted to share that experience with you. You wanted someone to share your heart with and they wanted to be the ones you trusted with it.

It felt like the planets aligned, the stars shone and the universe worked its magic to help you cross paths with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri. It felt the invisible string of fate weaving its way through your hearts to bring you together, to keep you together, to intertwine your lives to this very point.

And, despite the stories whispered in young witch’s ears about the taboos of humans, Lando and Oscar accepted you for who you were, they loved you for who you were. The tales of humans hating and despising and disapproving of witches were squished by your boys in seconds. In fact, they were your biggest supporters in your journey to learn and control your magic.

Maybe sometimes a little too supportive.

“Oh my god.”

“Lando—”

“Oh my god!”

“Stop panicking!”

“How can I not fucking panic?! Oscar is a fucking—”

“Shhh!” You hissed, slapping your hand over your boyfriend’s mouth before he altered the whole McLaren hospitality. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the bubbling of feeling of ‘oh, I fucked up’ becoming more and more prominent. “Just…calm down for a second.”

Lando let out a squeak of disbelief as he gestured towards the orange cat blinking up at the both of you, sitting in the spot where Oscar had been standing moments ago.

“Fuck,” you whispered, staring at the orange cat. “Oscar?”

The cat meowed in response.

“Oh my god,” Lando wheezed, his eyes comically wide. “I can’t believe you turned him into an orange cat. He is definitely more of a black cat, if anything.”

You glared at the Brit. “Oh, sorry, let me just remember that for the next time I turn our boyfriend into a fucking cat!”

Lando’s mouth parted. “Uh, babe—”

“What?”

Lando only nodded back towards the cat, only to find Oscar the orange cat now very much black.

“What the fuck?” You breathed out, the panic starting to resurface.

“Change him back!” Lando hissed.

“Okay, okay!” You rolled your shoulders, eyes narrowing slightly in determination as you stared at the black cat in front of you. “This is fine. I turned you into a cat, I can turn you back into a human.”

“Ideally soon,” Lando added, staring at the cat with a suspicious glare. Like he didn’t quite believe it was really Oscar. “It’s Thursday. The media team is gonna want us to start filming stuff soon.”

So, no pressure.

…

Sometimes, you wondered if your grandmother placed a small, inconvenient curse on you to punish you for not listening to her advice about joining a coven straight after school.

Because that was the only explanation you could come up with behind your horrendously, inconveniently timed bad luck that would be turning one of your boyfriends into a cat on media day of the British Grand Prix—arguably one of the most important for the team and the boys in the racing calendar.

It was a purely unpurposeful accident that led to you accidentally turning Oscar into a cat, but you thought you had a little more skill and experience to be able to change him back with the same ease. However, forty minutes later and three breakdowns later—all from Lando, thank you very much—told you that accidental magic was a lot harder to fix than one would expect.

Or, at least, than you expected.

“This is pointless!”

“Babe,” you sighed but the boy was already pacing the small driver’s room already.

“He’s stuck forever! We will never see that stupid swoop ever again! We will never hear him say ‘Webbah’ ever again!”

“Lando,” you tried again.

“Oh my god, we have to tell Mark! We have to tell everyone! How the fuck are we going to tell everyone?!”

“Lando!”

The boy’s mouth quickly snapped shut, his wide eyes staring back at you as you pushed yourself up from your spot on the couch, crossing the room and gently cupping his face. Your thumbs soothed over his cheeks, feeling him relax a little under your touch.

“Relax, baby,” you whispered softly, your lips twitching upwards as he took a deep breath. “This isn’t ideal but I have messaged my grandmother. She will call back and help us sort out this mess and nobody has to know.”

“What about the team?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowing together. “They are gonna notice—”

“We will just have to cover up until Oscar is human again,” you said with a determined nod. “It can’t be too hard, right?”

“Right, yeah, of course,” Lando nodded. “Except for one minor problem.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Oscar is gone.”

Your head snapped around, expecting to turn and see the black cat curled up where he was less than a few minutes ago. But he was nowhere to be seen, the driver room now empty apart from the two of you and the door out to the rest of the paddock somehow wiggled open.

“Fuck.”

…

“If I were a cat, where would I be?”

“Keep your voice down!”

“I’m just trying to get into the mindset of Oscar right now,” Lando murmured in response, his lips turned downwards as he rubbed the spot of his arm you just slapped. “If he’s even Oscar anymore. What if he’s stuck with a cat brain forever?”

You rolled your eyes. “Magic can’t do that. He’s still Oscar. Just…Oscar with very strong cat-like urges.”

The two of you had managed to sneak out of Lando’s driver room without alerting anyone else on the team that something was wrong. None of them questioned where Oscar was, just simply waving at the two of you walking past as Lando panic-babbled some bullshit about wanting to go see Carlos in the Ferrari hospitality to sort out some details for a golf day before the McLaren media team stole them away for the rest of the day.

Fortunately, they bought it.

Unfortunately, it’s a lot harder to look for a cat in a paddock when no one can know you are looking for a cat.

“Should we get treats?” Lando questioned, keeping his voice low. “Or like…a laser?”

“Yeah, because that will be real subtle,” you murmured with a snort.

“We need to get into the mindset of a cat,” Lando said with an odd sense of certainty.

“He would probably be somewhere warm,” you pointed out, tilting your head back to look up at the grey clouds starting to cover the sky. “But that's more of an Oscar thing than a cat thing.”

“Oscar did say the other day he was going to hog the tire warmer blankets if the weekend had shit weather,” Lando suggested, his brows furrowing together. “What are the chances he’s just…sleeping there?”

You glanced down at his watch, your frown deepening. “Let’s hope high.”

…

“Pspspsps!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Lando glanced up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Trying to make him feel relaxed, you know? Like we are one of his people.”

You raised your brows, taking in the sight of him crawling through the stacks of tires on all fours before shaking your head, deciding it was easier to just leave it rather than ask any questions.

Your grandmother hadn’t responded to any of the messages, the team were starting to blow up Lando’s phone and the two of you have had to dodge a handful of McLaren employees scouting the paddock for their drivers.

Safe to say your plan wasn’t working the way you intended.

“Oscar!” You called out, crouched down as you joined Lando in searching amongst the tires. “Oscar! Come on! We have fish!”

“Ew, we do?”

You shot the boy a look.

“Uh, yeah!” Lando quickly cleared his throat. “We have a lovely piece of salmon just for you!”

“Fuck, maybe we should have brought some fish,” you murmured under your breath.

“What the fuck are the both of you doing?”

You let out a noise of surprise as your head snapped up, your eyes widening a little at the sight of Max Verstappen standing a few feet away from you. But more surprisingly, the sight of a familiar black cat curled up in his arms.

“Osc—” You winced when Lando nudged your side with elbow. “Cat! You found him!”

Max blinked. “Did you just call him Oscat?”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

“Odd name choice,” Max commented, lightly scratching the cat underneath his chin. “I didn’t know you got a cat.”

“He’s new,” Lando retorted, quickly scrambling to stand up and brush his knees off. “Uh, where did you find him?”

“I heard meowing behind the motorhome and found this little guy trying to puncture some spare tires,” Max grinned, cooing at the black cat. “He’s a menace, isn’t he?”

“Tell me about it,” Lando grumbled before clearing his throat. “I mean, thanks for finding him! But we will take it from here!”

“You should bring him over some time,” Max said as he handed the black cat off to Lando. “Sassy probably won’t like him but Jimmy might—”

The cat let out a god-awful screech before he could be placed in Lando’s arms.

“Bastard,” Lando glared at the cat.

“We’ll think about it!” You quickly spoke up, ignoring Max’s odd expression as you quickly took Oscar in your arms. You didn’t miss the way Lando’s glare hardened when the black cat easily curled into your arms, purring away like nothing was wrong. “But we have to go.”

“Media duties,” Lando supplied with a grim smile.

“Tell Oscar I said hi.”

Lando only hummed, glaring at the black cat once more before the two of you headed back towards the McLaren garage.

…

Lando was pretty sure his team were going to think he had food poisoning again considering he had told them he had needed to go to the bathroom before they started filming.

And the fact that had been forty minutes ago.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Lando muttered, staring at the black cat curled up on his hoodie. Despite refusing to be held by the Brit, Oscar seemed happy to nap amongst his clothes. Lando was trying not to take it personally.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, frowning as you flipped through your notebook. It was no grimoire, but it had little notes and lessons and spells you had learnt over the years. Your grandmother insisted it was pertinent for a witch to record her progress properly, to take extensive notes to pass on to the witches after her. You were starting to see her point now. “Why have I never turned a person into a cat before?!”

Lando paused. “Was that question rhetorical or…?”

You lifted your head to shoot him a look.

“Rhetorical it is,” he nodded, slouching back against the couch. “What if you just abracadabra your hands at him until something eventually happens?”

“Other than the fact that is an incredibly stupid and idiotic idea?” You retorted before sighing, flashing him an apologetic smile at your biting tone. “It wouldn’t be safe for him or me. I don’t know what spell I would be adding onto and we don’t know what effects it could have on Oscar. For all we know, it could make this change…permanent.”

The black cat lifted his head to meow in response.

“He doesn’t seem like a fan of that idea either,” you added, your lips twitching at the way Oscar managed to look so judgemental even in cat form.

“He doesn’t have much of a brain right now,” Lando grumbled, shuffling away when Oscar hissed at him in response.

“Stop antagonising him,” you chastised.

“He’s the one who won’t let me pet him!” Lando huffed in response. “He’s my boyfriend too.”

“Is this about Max holding him?” You deadpanned.

“Yes!”

“Well,” you started, quickly turning back towards your notebook. “In his defence, it was your fault that he got turned into a cat.”

Lando blinked. “How?”

“You were the one who kept pushing me to make you an ice lolly!”

“And you were the one who fucked up the spell!”

“And that was because you kept tickling me—”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The room fell dead silent as the three of you stared at the door.

“Lando? Is Oscar with you? The press conference starts in five minutes, you’re both needed right now.”

The Brit turned to you with a panicked look.

“Go,” you whispered with wide eyes. “Stall them. I’ll work on Oscar.”

Lando’s brows furrowed together. “Are you sure? I can—”

“Go, we’ll be okay,” you assured him, quickly leaning in to peck his lips. “Promise, baby.”

“Okay, okay,” he nodded, swallowing harshly. “I can distract them. I can hold them off.”

That was perfectly possible and capable.

…

It was not, in fact, possible or capable.

The journalists were like vultures the second they realised the second McLaren driver was nowhere to be seen. Lando assumed his presence and the three other Brits on the couch would be more than enough for the media, especially for Silverstone weekend. It turns out he was wrong.

So very wrong.

“Question for Lando!”

The boy resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead slumping further back the couch in hopes it would open up and eat him alive. He noticed Alex and George sat to his left, snickering away with their microphones sitting beside them considering they hadn’t been asked a question in the last ten minutes.

“With Oscar out of contention for the weekend, are we to expect McLaren will be focusing on your standing in the championship?”

Lando frowned. “Oscar isn’t out for the weekend.”

“No one has given us a reason for his absence in this conference,” the journalists retorted. “We assumed he was unwell. Do we have reason to believe he isn’t here for another reason?”

Lando bit his tongue.

“He was seen this morning arriving in the paddock,” another journalist added.

“Then I’m sure you saw he was here and well,” Lando said, a fake and forced smile on his face.

“Hey, if you need a driver for that second McLaren,” Alex spoke up as he tried to divert the attention away from Lando—because bless his heart, he is a good friend—after picking up his microphone for the first time in the conference. “I know a guy.”

Lando’s smile felt a little more genuine this time. “Yeah? There’s a few qualifications he needs to meet.”

“Be slower than you?” Alex guessed, a few chuckles breaking out amongst the crowd.

“Yeah, if he could hold everyone back, that would be great,” Lando grinned. “Just swipe everyone out whilst I just zoom off.”

Alex cackled, leaning into George as he shook his head fondly.

“Lando!” A journalist called out and Lando felt his whole body tense up. “Do you think Oscar’s absence shows a lack of commitment to the team?”

Lando could feel his face scrunch up. He knew his emotions were probably written very clearly across his face if the bubbling anger inside him was telling enough. But before he could lift his microphone and say something that would have the PR team sighing deeply at his snarkiness, the door to the conference room slammed open as someone came running in.

“Sorry, sorry!”

Lando’s anger quickly melted away, replaced with something quite like knee-buckling relief at the sight of Oscar settling onto the couch beside him, his cheeks flushed and his hair dishevelled on his head. But he was there and he was human and that was all Lando needed to know right now.

At least, he tried to tell himself that as Oscar supplied the journalists with some very vague excuse as to why he was late.

“How?” Lando muttered under his breath, leaning into Oscar so the microphones wouldn’t pick up on their voices.

“Grandma messaged back,” Oscar said with a small smile. “She seems confident it worked fine. But she was also three drinks deep into happy hour so, take it with a pinch of salt.”

Lando raised his brows. “Do you feel okay?”

“Yeah, Grandma said there shouldn’t be any lingering side effects,” Oscar assured him, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m fine. Promise. I’ll explain later.”

Lando only nodded in response, shuffling a little closer to Oscar until their knees were nudging against each other. Oscar was there and he was human and he was touching him now, and that was what mattered. He could wait another fifteen minutes before finding out more, before wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and muttering about needing to buy a black cat before Max texted him with more questions.

Oscar was fine now and nobody knew the mess they had accidentally created.

“Next question is for Oscar: did you just meow?”

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jjameslily · 2 months ago

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i lost it, but someone made a post recently about what if it had been lily on the staircase and james rushing baby harry upstairs and how it would have changed the trajectory of the story

and now i can’t stop thinking that voldemort would have still given lily the choice to get out of the way instead of killing her outright like he had james and her sacrifice possibly would have protected both james and harry and james would have to live in a world without the love of his life but oh my god harry would have grown up so loved and so protected by his father

and james would have made sure to tell harry at every opportunity just how beautiful and extraordinary his mother was and take him to out of the wizarding world often to make sure harry was connected to the part of his mother’s world that she fought so hard for. not only to provide harry the type of upbringing that lily had wished for, but also so that james could feel closer to her in small bookshops and neighborhood parks and flower stands of local farmer’s markets because even though she was gone, he would spend his whole life loving her and honoring her memory and waiting for the day he could meet her again

#jily #jple #lily evans #james potter #harry potter #hp #im sorry op i hadn’t realized i landed on ‘for you’ and refreshed!!!#but your post has been haunting me!!!!#also pls do not interact with the intricacies of magic #i am just letting my brain run wild with sadness without reason

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lesbianloser69 · 25 days ago

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It’s such a simple thing really, but “do you want me to be alive?” is one of, if not the saddest, things written in the entire world of one piece. Although, maybe thats just because of my soft spot for found family tropes (especially siblings lol)

Ace is just a small little boy here, a fragile thing compared to the character we all know. This is a harsh contrast compared to Ace in his adulthood, where he’s fueled by his ache to prove himself and prove that he’s more than his father. You never would have guessed the reality of his childhood, considering the cheery and almost comedic relief he can be at times.

I guess I kind of expected this, though. Aces hatred for himself and feeling that he doesn’t deserve to be alive was first hinted through his self deprecative jokes, before we ever knew about his past or who he was. I noticed this myself, that through the facade of sarcasm and cockiness there’s just a guy who feels like his life is a burden to all those around him. And what does it all come down to? His blood, the last name that he refuses to bear out of his hatred for the man who gave it its meaning.

Ace going by his mothers last name isn’t just a testimony for his respect and love for her, but also an act of defiance against his father. I don’t blame him lol, but it’s honestly heartbreaking that Ace has no idea that Roger did love him, and Ace died not knowing this.

The result of Rogers actions on the world though basically fucked Ace over for his entire life, and that was what made Roger selfish.. to go and cause a war and then have a son? It’s no surprise that Ace is seen as the child of the devil, because that’s exactly what Roger was seen as.. the devil.

So for all of Aces childhood he’s taught one thing: that his father was the devil, and that he is the child of that monster. That he doesn’t deserve to live, and what’s worse is he has to listen to strangers talk about murdering Rogers son, if he ever had one. He’s barely even lived to know anything, he’s just a baby, and he already believes what the ENTIRE world thinks of him, he’s hated and worthless and a burden. That’s so much for a 10 year old to have to carry alone, and it’s even sadder to see how this causes Ace to be shut off and cold to everyone he meets.

But of course he is.. hearing people talk about murdering him if he did exist (not directly him because no one knows Ace is Rogers son, except Garp and the mountain bandits. Besides, the world believed Roger having a son was a rumor anyway.) doesn’t make his hatred for anyone he meets that unsurprising. For all he knows, they want him dead too.

When Ace meets Luffy, he’s completely baffled that this boy he’s never met before wants to be his friend! How can someone WANT to be his friend? No ones ever been like that to Ace before, except for Sabo. Even after Ace pushes Luffy away, and makes it extremely obvious he hates him and doesn’t want Luffy near him, Luffy doesn’t give up. He’s urgently insistent on being Aces friend.

So…

“You feel better when you’re around me?”

“You need me?”

Ace is almost at a loss for words here. Luffy feels better around him, Luffy needs him. He’s wanted, he’s loved and he’s cared for, someone notices him for more than just a mistake, that is both beautiful and heartbreaking. And back to this panel:

The way ace nervously fidgets with his hands here (I believe he is, anyway) and his head is tilted downwards.. he’s clearly asking something that means everything to him.

“Do you want me to be alive?”

And little Luffy just instantly, without hesitation, says of course is soooo fucking cute and sweet and UGHHHH!!! Luffy is the first person to EVER say he WANTS (fr gotta emphasize on the want) Ace to be alive. This changed the trajectory of Aces life forever.

I guess I’ll stop here but there’s so much more I could talk about and say.. but Ace and Luffy are very special to me

my small babies☹️

#portgas d ace #one piece #one piece ace #monkey d. luffy #ace one piece #straw hat luffy #luffy and ace #asl brothers #one piece marineford #marineford #post war #analysis #writing #one piece analysis

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year ago

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just one more*

warnings: soft smut, breeding, overstimulation

summary: in which yn is ready for a baby and harry can’t get enough

pairing: nhl player harry x reader

masterlist | taglist

“h?” yn questions, looking up at him from her spot in his lap on the couch as they watch the movie playing on the screen before them. he hums in acknowledgment before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “i wanna have a baby, ‘m ready now,” she informs him, and harry swears his heart stops.

“yeah? y’wanna have my baby?” harry questions, trying to contain his excitement at what his wife has just said to him. “y’gonna let me make you a mama?” he’s smiling ear to ear with tears in his eyes as she nods enthusiastically.

harry wraps his arms around her before lifting the two of them up and hurrying toward the bedroom, yn letting out a shocked laugh at how quickly the trajectory of the evening changed. he hurries and places her on her feet beside the bed before pulling her into him to press his lips to hers. he kisses her so passionately and for so long that her heads begins to feel floaty, her body melting into his as his tongue gently explores her mouth.

when he finally pulls away, the both of them are practically bursting with emotions and love, their eyes burning into each other’s for just a moment, a silent communication of how their lives will change after tonight.

he, once again, makes the first move, quickly but gingerly helping her out of her clothes and onto the bed before doing the same for himself. climbing atop her, he rests his weight on his elbows before capturing her lips again, getting as close to her as he can without crushing her. as their kisses grow more desperate, he begins to grind his hardened cock against where she’s begun to get wet for him, feeling the warmth of her and instantly becoming addicted.

“are y’ready for me, angel?” he whispers against her lips, trying to keep some sort of restraint as he awaits the green light. she nods, whining against his lips. “need your words, angel. please.”

she pulls away begrudgingly. “yes, please give it to me,” she whines, her hips bucking up to meet his. he does so immediately, reaching down to line his cock up with her awaiting hole before inching in slowly, a collective sigh of relief leaving them when their hips finally meet. the feeling of having each other bare is like no other. she instantly wraps her legs around his waist as he begins to move sweetly inside of her, keeping him close as he hits that spot inside of her that makes her feel dizzy.

the sound of their skin meeting with each thrust of his hips accompany the sounds of her moans of pleasure and his pants as he tries to keep things slow. she feels so good he knows he won’t last, so when he feels himself getting close pretty quickly, he brings his hand between them once more and places two fingers on her swollen clit before rubbing gentle circles around the slick head. ��need you t’cum for me, i won’t last. need to feel you, mama. come on,” he encourages.

the combination of the feeling of him inside of her and on her clit, plus the new pet name send her over the edge with a cry of his name, bringing him with her. his hips stutter when she clenches around him and he cums with a sob so loud that it startles her for a moment as she fears something is wrong, but then she feels the slight shake in his lower half before she’s being warmed from the inside. he’s twitching inside of her as he floods her with his cum, his hips pressing tightly against her before he’s pulling out a bit and repeating the action.

tears are streaming down both of their faces as they ride out the intense highs, but yn soon realizes that he isn’t slowing down as much as usual, preparing her for when he inevitably pulls out of her. his sobs of pleasure haven’t stopped, he’s overstimulating himself with each movement but he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. she can obviously take much more than he can and so the feeling is still very pleasant for her, and she’s removing her legs from his hips to allow a slightly deeper angle.

“mama, i- fuck, just need to fill y’up one more time. so close, please, need just a little bit more, gonna fill you up,” he’s rambling through choked sobs as he just continues to rut his hips into hers, feeling her clench around him again to signal another orgasm from her as well.

she’s pliant underneath him as he continues to wreck her sensitive walls, her eyes practically glued to the back of her skull when he lifts her leg a bit to get even deeper inside of her, nudging her cervix just enough that it’s painful but not unpleasant.

“so deep, don’t stop please, need it,” her words are whiny and quiet, choppy as she struggles to even speak with how he feels inside of her.

pressing his face into her neck, he presses gentle kisses on the damp skin there as his hips begin to stutter once more. “angel baby, gonna cum again. gonna give you my baby, stuff you full,” he gasps, his balls drawn up tight as he tries to lean into the intense feeling. it’s so much that he feels like he needs to pull out but he can’t, his body taking over as he starts to pulse against her walls. “cmon, mama. cum for me and i’ll give you my baby, please, i can’t take it angel.”

his sweet sweet noises and the feeling of him twitching inside send her over the edge with a choked cry, her back arching as she milks him for what he has left to give. she’s so tight around him that he can’t even move as he fills her once more. the smallest sobs of pleasure leave his lips while he empties himself in her,

he goes to pull his sensitive cock from her still twitching walls, but before he can move even an inch he’s whimpering and sliding back into her. “no, no. can’t have any going to waste, just wanna stay like this for a while.”

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 3 months ago

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Rough Waters

Frankie Morales x OFC (Elena) ||| Main Masterlist

Summary: While on family vacation, a young Frankie Morales and Elena meet by chance. They become inseparable during the trip. They part with promises to stay in touch, but life eventually gets in the way of that. Elena is haunted by thoughts of Frankie and wonders what ever happened to him. In a story of first loves and second chances, she gets her answers fourteen years later when they reconnect under less than perfect circumstances.

Word Count: 9.5k

👉 Warnings: smut (MDNI), angst, alcohol consumption, brief mention of parental death, brief mention of unplanned pregnancy, brief mention of mental health struggles, Frankie's mouth, Frankie's hands, Frankie's hair

Quote: "Why do I feel like you're telling me goodbye?"

People weave in and out of our lives, making and severing connections without a second thought. In most cases, their absence has no effect and the memory of them eventually fades. They turn into a forgotten name and blurry image. Other times, the impact of their absence is so profound that it changes your life trajectory. It carves out a piece of your soul and leaves you wandering, looking for the missing piece. The longer that piece is missing, the bigger the void grows. That void can never be filled and will leave you asking, “What if?” until your end.

This was never meant to be a love story, but it is a story about the love between two people. It’s a story about heartbreak and loss. A story about two souls on a journey to fill the void that the other left. It’s an unpredictable journey that leads into new beginnings and second chances.

It was near midnight as I sat on the balcony of a 14th floor suite at the Eastgate Palms Resort, drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels and listening to the hypnotic sound of the waves crashing against the shore. My fiancé slumbered in one of the two bedrooms, unaware of the turmoil raging inside me. My eyes were unblinking, watching the reflection of the moon and stars rippling in the water, remembering the last time I sat in this very spot fourteen years ago to the day. It was the last time I saw him. The one that I could never seem to let go. My “what if”.

We were still kids, both of us 16 and full of dreams. The first time I saw him was on the beach. I didn’t appreciate him then. I was more interested in his blonde haired, blue eyed best friend, Will, who had accompanied him on his family’s vacation. I tried my best to get Will’s attention, but he was more worried about pickup football games and surfing. Frankie, however, seemed to prefer lounging by the pool. We skirted around each other that first day. I insisted to my best friend, who was traveling with me and my family, that I wasn’t interested. He wasn’t my type I had said to her. It didn’t take long for that to change.

Our first night together, I was awake later than everyone else, just as I was every night. I had been sitting on this same balcony, enjoying the peaceful lulling sounds of the waves as I wrote in my journal when I heard the balcony door of the neighboring suite open. Frankie appeared, leaning against the railing and staring out at the dark ocean before him with a somber expression. I watched him for some time as he stood illuminated by waxing moonlight, taking in the outline of his shaggy curls and fit frame. His profile was unique with an aquiline nose and pouty lips. It probably wouldn’t have fit into the conventional definition of beautiful, but something about it was.

To this day, I can’t remember what the first words were that we said to each other. I wish I could. I do remember him laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his cheek dimpling as he came to lean against the railing closest to me. We talked until the first rays of sun appeared over the water. We talked about my writing, our plans for the future, our families - no topic was off the table. It was like we had been friends for ages. I remember the way he looked during the sunrise with his dark hair hanging down over his chocolate-colored baby cow eyes, patchy stubble on his jaw, his golden skin darkened from being at the pool. He was perfect and already owned a small piece of my heart.

As the week went on, we spent all of our free time together doing mundane things - lounging by the pool or on the beach, walking the pier or to the local gift shops. We were usually accompanied by our friends or older siblings. The nights, however, were ours. Every night after our families were asleep, we would both sneak out to our balconies to be together and always talked until the sun was visible on the horizon. During that time, I got to know Frankie very well. He was an old soul and a dreamer. He was caring and sweet. To me, he was perfect in every way.

On our last night together, we both stood leaning on our respective railings across from each other, no more than a foot apart. Our hearts were heavy knowing that I would be leaving the following day. Our heads stayed bent closely as we talked in hushed whispers, making promises to stay in touch. That was the night he gave me my first real kiss, his hands cupping my cheeks as he licked into my mouth. It was every teenage girl’s dream come true.

It was the days before social media and cell phones. Long-distance calls from a landline costed a small fortune. So, we settled for exchanging addresses, insisting that we would write to each other weekly. And we did. We wrote to each other for nearly two years. We shared our most intimate thoughts and feelings - things that we never told anyone else. We made plans for our future, when we were old enough to be together and have our own life. However, Frankie’s letters eventually started to come slower. Weeks and then months between each one, until they eventually stopped. My last letter was returned with a note indicating a new resident with no forwarding address. I was devastated but held out hope that I would still hear from him. I never did.

As the years went on, I tried to forget about him, but he was always in the recesses of my mind. I couldn’t help wondering about him from time to time. I tried looking him up on social media once that became a thing but had no luck. I even used all the resources at my disposal to try and locate him, but I came up with nothing. He was a ghost. Nothing but a memory. I hated not knowing what became of him. I knew it would be one of the many mysteries that would haunt my dreams until the day I died.

I was drawn from my thoughts by the familiar sound of a sliding door from his balcony. I knew it was ridiculous, but that didn’t stop my heart from jumping into my throat for a brief moment. That was quickly remedied when a woman moved into view to stand in Frankie’s place, leaning on the railing, staring into the abyss. I briefly wondered what inner demons she was battling as I stood to go inside. I left the door open so I could listen to the sounds of the ocean as I laid down on the living room sofa, eventually drifting off to sleep. Frankie haunted my dreams that night, as he did most nights. However, this night they were so vivid, it was like I was 16 again and here with him. The sound of his voice rattled around in my brain, but it sounded off. Different. It left me questioning if I could even remember how he sounded anymore.

I eventually woke to the sound of seagulls and warm sunlight beaming down onto my face. I could faintly hear Chris, my fiancé, singing off key in the shower. I groaned, feeling groggy and hung over. He had insisted we take this trip to try and rekindle things between us, but so far, he was only pushing me further away. He chose the location because he thought it would make me happy. Citing that he remembered how fondly I had spoken of my memories here when I was younger. What he didn’t realize was those memories were because of Frankie. I had never told Chris about Frankie. I didn’t see the need since I never expected to see him again. Yet here we were. Frankie wasn’t in my life, but he was still hanging over it like a dark cloud. Being here was only making things worse, reminding me of how unhappy I was with the path I had chosen for myself.

With a sigh, I pulled myself up off the sofa and wandered into the bedroom. Chris was just coming out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, smiling as he gave me a quick peck on the cheek.

“I bet you slept real good on that tiny ass couch. Why didn’t you come to bed?”

I shook my head, “I just fell asleep listening to the waves. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe we spent our first night of vacation sleeping in separate rooms. Who does that?”

“I said I’m sorry. It wasn’t my goal. I told you, the sound helps me relax. I just dozed off.”

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around me, “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. I would like to spend some time with you though…like we used to.”

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes, “Don’t worry, we still have four more days. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

He kissed me on the lips now, attempting to deepen it before I pulled away. It didn’t feel right. It wasn’t the same. Something was missing.

I gave him a tight smile as I moved to my bag to grab my toiletries before disappearing to the bathroom and locking the door.

We spent the day doing touristy stuff. It was something that I probably would have found pleasure in in another life, but today, it just felt empty. The only thing I could feel was a heavy weight on my chest. It got heavier every time Chris mentioned something about his plans for our future together. I was beginning to feel like I was on a spinning carnival ride that I couldn't get off of. It made me dizzy and nauseous. It was becoming more obvious to me that I was choosing the wrong path, but I feared I had gone too far and wouldn’t be able to find my way back.

The day had turned to night when we found ourselves waiting to be seated at a boardwalk restaurant. Chris was chattering away at my side, but I didn’t hear a word he was saying. My mind was distracted by thoughts of a young Frankie and I walking down a nearby footpath, laughing about something as he slipped his arm around me. I hadn’t remembered that moment until now. It’s funny how long-lost memories can be unexpectedly triggered by random experiences.

My attention was pulled back to the present day by a buzzer lighting up and vibrating in my hands, alerting us that our table was ready. As we stood, I turned to move toward the hostess stand and crashed into a broad frame. When my eyes locked with the familiar dark orbs in front of me, I couldn’t breathe. We stared at each other for a beat before I managed to stutter out, “I-I’m sorry… excuse me.”

I could feel the eyes of the beautiful blonde beside him boring into me. Clearly, she had noticed the odd exchange between us. Chris’s hand was on my elbow, leading me away toward our table none the wiser to the events unfolding before him. Frankie’s gaze was wide as he nodded curtly, his eyes flicking to Chris, then back to me. He forced a tight smile before turning away. An understanding seemed to pass between us in those short seconds. It couldn’t appear like we knew each other.

As I turned away, the room began to spin. I was feeling light headed and overwhelmed by his sudden appearance. I let out a stuttered breath as I sat down in my seat. I couldn’t believe this was happening. What were the chances?

After ordering, Chris took me further off guard, asking, “Have you decided on a date yet?”

I shook my head, “No, I haven’t.”

“Elena, it’s been two years. We should’ve figured that out by now.”

I sighed, “I know, I’ve just had a lot going on. You know work’s been keeping me crazy busy.”

He shook his head, “You know, I would like to be settled down and have kids by the time I’m thirty-five.”

I could feel my blood beginning to boil. This was my problem. He was building a life for me according to what he wanted. I felt like I had no say in it.

In my periphery, I could see Frankie and the blonde being seated at a table across the room. Our eyes briefly connected before I turned away. Chris was completely oblivious to any of it as he continued to drone on.

“I don’t want to be a sixty-year-old with teenagers, you know what I mean?”

I nodded, agreeing with him just to shut him up.

He gave me a hopeful smile, “Maybe you should just quit your job. You know you don’t actually have to work. I make more than enough…”

I scoffed, “I’m not having this conversation with you again. I happen to enjoy my job. I’m not gonna be a stay at home housewife.”

His brows furrowed, “You’ll have to eventually. I would prefer you be home with the kids.”

I wanted to punch him in his stupid face. He was never going to let this go.

I rubbed at the crease between my brows, “Can we just not talk about this right now? Please?”

Chris gave a disbelieving laugh as he shook his head. I chanced a glance in Frankie’s direction, really seeing him for the first time. He still had his shaggy hair, but it was tucked away under an old baseball cap. His lean frame had filled out some and appeared much broader than I remembered. There was something about the way he carried himself that seemed different. He was no longer the shy boy that I remember. He was alert, sad eyes constantly scanning the room. His posture appeared too formal for the setting, with an assertive air to him. He was still absolutely beautiful. Maybe even more so now with the way his shirt stretched across his thick arms and wide shoulders.

He glanced in my direction again, holding my gaze longer than he probably should have. From the way his chest was moving under his gray fitted t-shirt, I could tell his breathing was elevated. He looked like he was seeing a ghost.

“So when should we have that discussion? You can’t keep putting it off, you know?”

My eyes darted to Chris, “I’d rather not ruin our evening. Can you please just drop it?”

He puffed air out of his cheeks, then reached for his glass of wine, downing it in a couple of gulps. At this rate, he might pass out when we get back to the resort. I kind of hoped he would. I watched as the server came around and refilled his glass. I gave her a tight smile, “Leave the bottle, please.”

She hesitated but set it down between us. Chris was already working on the next round. I watched as he grabbed the bottle and topped his glass off. I needed to get away from him for a minute before I lost it.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

He held his glass up, like he was giving a toast then took another sip. I could already tell; the rest of this evening was certainly going to be fun.

I took my time in the bathroom, not wanting to return to my now hostile partner. Leaning against the sink, I took a moment to look at myself. I looked tired, run down, and miserable. There was no way I could keep doing this. I sighed, washed my hands, then pulled the door open. Frankie appeared out of nowhere, grabbing my hand and pulling me around a corner into a short hallway that was meant for staff.

I just stared at him. Tears pooled in my eyes as I struggled to speak. His hands rested on my shoulders as he gave me a disbelieving look, “Mi sol, it’s really you.” (My sun)

I shook my head, it hurt too much to hear that endearment, “Don’t call me that.”

I turned to walk away, suddenly overcome with anger, but he grabbed my hand to stop me.

“Elena, wait. Please. Give me a chance to explain.”

I rubbed at the ache forming between my brows before turning back to him. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. I definitely wasn’t prepared for his big brown eyes. They were the same, only aged, and were still having the same effect on me.

I had to look away, “I’ve gotta get back out there before he comes looking for me.”

Frankie’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he tried to meet my gaze, “Give me your number, please. I can’t lose you again. Just lemme explain everything.”

I could see the desperation in his sad eyes even though I was trying my best not to focus on them. The permanent crease between his brows deepened as he stood there silently pleading with me. How could I ever tell him no? Wasn’t this one of the things I wanted to know above all else?

I let out a controlled breath, “Ok, fine gimme your phone.”

He handed over his cell, “I’ll text you tonight… Do I need to worry about him seeing it?”

I shook my head as I typed in my contact info, “This is a google voice number. It doesn’t go directly to my phone. I have to log in to check it, so I may not get back to you right away.”

I gave him a tight-lipped smile, handing his phone back as I turned to walk away until he gently grabbed my wrist to stop me, “Hey, I am sorry. I-I’ve…missed you.”

For a brief moment I saw the old Frankie, shy and sweet. It made my heart ache for him. “I’ve missed you too. We’ll talk soon,” I said almost in a whisper.

I gave his hand a squeeze then turned to make my way back to the table. When I sat down, Chris was pushing pasta around on his plate, seemingly uninterested in eating now. He never stopped drinking the wine though. He looked at me with cold eyes, “What took you so long?”

I scoffed, “You’re really asking about my bathroom habits now? I’m sorry, I had to wait and then deal with some unexpected feminine issues. That takes a minute.”

He rolled his eyes, “Of course, that’s convenient.”

It was convenient because it was a lie. I just couldn’t deal with him tonight. I was still reeling from seeing Frankie on top of dealing with Chris’s asshole behavior. I wasn’t in a good place.

We ate in strained silence, staring daggers across the table at each other. That didn’t stop me from stealing the occasional glance in Frankie’s direction. There seemed to be an uncomfortable silence between him and his partner as well.

We returned to the resort after that. Chris disappeared to the bedroom with another bottle of wine. I could hear the tv click on from where I stood in the small kitchenette drinking from a glass of water. He already appeared to be intoxicated, so I silently hoped he would quickly pass out for the night.

With a sigh, I grabbed a bottle of liquor and walked out onto the balcony. I sat there lost in my thoughts for some time. I felt numb, but my mind was racing. I had so many questions and I wasn’t sure if I wanted the answers. Something told me that knowing would only make matters worse.

A quick glance at my phone told me it was nearing 11 PM. I wondered if Frankie had texted me yet. Part of me didn’t want to check and forget that I saw him out of fear that I would never hear from him. It now seemed almost easier to not know. However, the broken part of me was mentally huddled in a corner crying and begging for answers.

I let out a controlled breath, leaning forward in my seat with my elbows on my knees as I opened the internet browser on my phone. After navigating to the web address, I typed in my credentials, held my breath, then hit the login button. I didn’t have any messages. I huffed, “Figures.” I had a feeling I wouldn’t hear from him again.

I leaned back in the lounge chair and rubbed at my face, accepting the fact that I just needed to let Frankie go. At least I knew that he was alive and living his life. It wasn’t closure, but it was something.

After grabbing the bottle at my side and taking a sip, I glanced at my phone again. A little red notification now appeared indicating I had a message. Relief washed over me as I clicked to view it.

Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Frankie.

I quickly added his number to my contacts, and even took a moment to try and memorize it. My fingers hovered over the keys, unsure of what to say.

Me: Hey. I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up.

Frankie: Never again, mi sol. Are you somewhere you can talk?

I now felt heat bloom in my chest at the familiar nickname he had given me all those years ago. It caused my heart rate to spike.

Me: Funny enough, I’m sitting in our favorite place…but yes, I’m alone. I can talk.

My attention was drawn away from my phone by the sound of the sliding door opening to the neighboring balcony. His balcony. I glanced up, expecting to see the woman again. Instead, I was met with the sight of a man with messy hair. I had to do a double take as he sat two beers down and came to lean on the nearest railing with that familiar smile on his face. I nearly dropped my phone once I realized it was him.

My brows furrowed as I stood, “Frankie? What are you…?”

He let out a quiet chuckle, “I could ask you the same thing.”

Tears pooled in my eyes as I stared at him in disbelief. He reached across the open space to grab my hand, taking it between his two large ones.

“I’ve been coming here every chance I could get, on a whim really…Hoping that you would turn up.”

I chuckled, “It might have been easier to look me up on Facebook.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I don’t use any of that. I try to stay under the radar these days…why did you finally come back?”

I chuckled, “Believe it or not, this wasn’t my idea. I did book the room though.”

He laughed quietly before turning more serious, “I’ve missed you. I did try to find you. I knew it was a long shot, but I went to your old address.”

I felt my heart clench with that news. I couldn’t believe it.

“What happened to you? Why did you ghost me?” I asked.

He sighed, “I joined the military. I didn’t know how to tell you...”

My face twisted in confusion, “Why did you think I wouldn’t have been able to handle that?

I watched as his tongue slid across his lower lip before his teeth sunk into it. He seemed to be weighing his words.

“I was being recruited to join special ops. I wasn’t going to at first, but then my parents were in an accident…they didn’t make it…”

I gave him a sympathetic look, now cradling his large hands between mine.

“Anyway, after that…I decided to take the offer. I didn’t really have anything left at home and I wasn’t in a good place, you know? And I knew I’d be doing some dangerous shit…I just didn’t wanna string you along and have you worry. I thought letting you go would be easier.”

I shook my head, “That’s ridiculous.”

He hung his head between his shoulders, “I know. I regret it…every day. Trust me.”

“Are you still on active duty?”

He pursed his lips, “I’m on reserve. That’ll be up in a couple months though, then I’m out. My body can’t take much more of it unfortunately.”

He looked disappointed, but I couldn’t help feeling relieved at the news. I couldn’t stand the thought of him being in danger.

I heard a noise behind me and stepped away from Frankie. He stealthily disappeared behind the wall that separated the two spaces. I watched as the curtain pulled back and the door slid open. Chris stuck his head out, peering at me with squinted eyes through the dark as he held onto the door frame for support. He was clearly very intoxicated by this point.

“You actually coming to bed tonight or not?” he slurred out from the doorway.

I sighed, “I’ll think about it. No need to wait up though…feel free to knock out at any time.”

He scoffed and mumbled something I couldn’t make out as he slammed the door shut and let the curtain fall back in place.

I puffed air out of my cheeks as I sagged back against the railing, rubbing at the tension forming in the back of my neck.

In a flash, Frankie was at my side again. “Rough night?” he asked.

I gave him a sad smile, “More like a rough year…maybe even two.”

“Yeah, I could sense some tension at your table.” His lips set into a line.

“He and I just want different things out of life. This trip was meant to fix it…but I think it's only making it more obvious that it’s not gonna work out.”

He offered me a beer, “You may need this more than me.”

I chuckled, moving to pick up my bottle from beside the lounger, “Thanks, but I’ve got Jack to keep me company in that regard.”

He took the lid off his bottle, “Ooof, that bad huh?”

I nodded, “Yeah, he’s uhh, he has the rest of our lives planned out with a specific timetable. I’m just not cool with that. There’s still a lot I wanna do…and he wants to settle down, get married, and start popping out kids. Four to be specific.”

Frankie took a drink, “That…fucking sucks.”

I nodded, “What about you and the blonde?”

He groaned, running his hand down his face, “I uhhh…”

He paused and shook his head, “We’ve been together almost three years, but I’ve been deployed through most of it.”

He took another drink, “Found out recently she’s pregnant…which definitely wasn’t planned. I was ready to end things until I found that out…and now we’re living together and I’m gettin’ married in a few months.”

He looked like a broken man with that revelation. I hated it for him and honestly, it broke me a little too. It was clear, he was never going to be mine.

“I’m not sure if I should say congratulations or not…”

He shrugged, “Yeah, me neither. It’s been hard with her. Now that I’ve been back for a bit it’s become painfully obvious that we’re not compatible. Yet, here we are.”

I leaned my bottle of Jack toward him, “You may need this more than me.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Fine. Suit yourself.” I took a long pull from the bottle, trying to settle my chaotic thoughts.

He laughed, “Damn girl, calm down with that.”

I shrugged, “It’s life these days.”

He shook his head, “This is not where I saw my life going.”

I leaned on the railing closer to him, “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t lost contact?”

He took a long pull from his bottle now, eventually meeting my eyes, “Every damn day.”

A controlled breath passed through his pouty lips. His brows furrowed as he averted his gaze. “I fucked up. I fucked it up for us. It was supposed to be you. What we had…I’ve never been able to find that again...I constantly feel like a piece of something is missing and I’ve never been able to settle down because I couldn’t find it.”

My forehead pressed against his as I reached to rub my fingers through his shaggy curls, “I can relate…I’ve felt that way too.”

There was a low hum of energy passing between us. The same way it had all those years ago. I had never felt that with anyone else and it was absolutely killing me that we couldn’t explore it further. I briefly wondered if that hum was the universe’s way of telling us that our missing pieces had been found, but quickly dismissed the thought because it could never be.

Frankie’s eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the feel of my touch. I wanted to kiss him but knew I couldn’t. It would be wrong. I had to force myself to pull away from him. He looked dejected from the loss of my touch.

His eyes finally met mine, “So, whatta we do now?”

I sighed, “What can we do? I mean, we’re on our own paths now. We couldn’t be further apart.”

“Can we at least stay in touch this time? I’d like to check in with you every once in a while.” he asked.

I gave him a small smile, “You have my number.”

He snorted, “I have a google voice number. What’s that about anyway?”

I laughed, “I use it for work. I don’t want clients to have my actual cell number.”

He nodded, “That’s smart, actually. Maybe I should set that up too. Vic may lose her shit if she finds another woman’s number in my phone.”

“OOH, she’s one of those,” I said with a chuckle.

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, she’s very jealous. She got upset because you bumped into me. She didn’t like the way you looked at me.”

I gave him a tight smile, “Well, to be fair…that probably was an odd exchange to anyone who saw it. I was taken off guard.”

We were interrupted by a sliding door again, except this time it was Frankie’s. I dipped behind the wall as Frankie had earlier. My stomach was in my throat as I listened to their exchange.

“Baby, why did you leave me? Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

“No, I couldn’t. Lemme finish my beer, and I’ll come back to bed. Ok?”

I could hear them kissing. I suddenly felt sick.

“Don’t take too long. I need you,” she said with a suggestive tone.

My breathing spiked as I fought back tears. I couldn’t take this.

“I-I’ll be in shortly, OK? I need a few minutes.” His voice sounded strained. I’m sure this had to be uncomfortable knowing that I could hear their conversation.

I heard her huff loudly followed by the sound of the door closing. I took a deep breath, trying to pull it together before I faced him again. Once I was sure she was gone, I moved back over to the railing. Frankie dug the palm of his free hand into his eyes before he met my gaze.

“I’m sorry about that. She tends to be pushy and doesn't know how to handle my PTSD issues. She smothers me and gets frustrated when I don’t respond the way she expects.”

I grimaced, “You have PTSD?”

His eyes now looked vacant as he stared at me, “Yeah, I have trouble sleeping because of it. That seems to bother her for some reason.”

My heart hurt for him. I could only imagine the things he had seen. He turned to face the water, downing the last of his beer, then picked up the second bottle. He looked lost as he stared off into the darkness of the ocean. I would have given anything to be able to hug him, to settle the storm that was brewing inside of his mind. This was beginning to be too much.

He turned to me suddenly. His brows pinched together as he spoke, “We’re leaving tomorrow, so I guess this is all the time we’ll get together…but I’m glad we got this at least.”

I nodded, “Yeah, it’s nice to have some sort of closure. I worried that something had happened to you, and I would never know.”

He shook his head, “Why do I feel like you're telling me goodbye?”

I shrugged, “Aren’t I? It’s not like we can be friends, Frankie…” I shook my head as a tear slid down my cheek, “I don’t think I could…not now.”

He reached for me, pulling me as close as he could with the railing between us. He cupped my cheek as his forehead leaned against mine, “Te amo, mi sol. (I love you, my sun) Always have. Please don’t forget that.”

The tears were pouring out of me now. I couldn’t help it. He pulled away, placing both hands on my face, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “Promise me you won’t forget.” I nodded. I couldn’t say the words back. It hurt too much to speak them aloud. He gave me a chaste kiss on the forehead. This was our goodbye. We both knew it, but neither of us wanted to say it.

He pulled away, “I need to get back in there…if I stay…I…” He shook his head from side to side, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know...It’s ok. Go,” I replied in a soft whisper.

I could see his eyes glistening in the moonlight as his broad form turned to go inside. In my heart, I knew this would be the last time I would see him. I felt like he had died as I sat down on the lounge chair. I stayed there and cried well into the early morning hours, mourning his loss and the life that we could have had together. At least I knew now, even if it hurt more.

Three Months Later

I was sitting in my car finishing up a call with a client. As I ended the call, I realized I had a message notification. When I switched to view the messages, Frankie’s name was bolded to show it was from him. I hadn’t heard from Frankie since that night on the balcony. I had been actively working to forget about him as I navigated all of the new major changes in my life. Part of me wanted to delete it without reading. Another part wondered if maybe his circumstances had changed too. My heart pounded in my ears at the thought. My thumb swiped left, then hovered over the delete button.

I sighed, “Fuck.”

I swiped right, then clicked the message to open it.

Frankie: I’m getting married next Wednesday. Please tell me I’m doing the right thing.

Something about the message pulled at my heart, but also pissed me off. I wasn’t going to be his excuse for an out. I couldn’t make that decision for him. I debated on a response, but in the end, I left him on read.

I couldn’t ignore it though. Actually, it was eating me alive inside to know he was getting married. I wished he hadn't told me when it was happening. I would have been better off not knowing the day. It would have been easier to forget not knowing the specifics.

As the week wore on, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed a change of scenery, so I called into work and requested the following week off. I needed to go back to our place and mourn properly, without Chris’s incessant buzzing in my ear this time. It was the only way to put Frankie behind me.

I spent Monday and Tuesday in his suite, crying like a fool and reading through all of his letters that I had saved in a shoebox. My intention was to burn them. To rid myself of the memories of him for good.

On those late nights, I sat on his balcony, allowing every memory I could recall to play through my mind as I stared off into the dark void of the ocean. It was torture, but I needed to get it all out of my system. I needed to get him out of my system.

On Wednesday, I sat staring at his last message, battling with myself about responding. Something told me if I said the words, he would end it all and be here in an instant, but I couldn’t do it. It would be wrong. It needed to be his decision, if there was even a decision to be made. I knew him. He was too damn honorable. He would go through with it no matter what because he had a responsibility to do so.

As the sun began to set over the rolling waves, I made my way down to the beach. I was all cried out by this point, but that didn’t make what I was about to do any less painful. I knew that if I got rid of his letters, what memories I had left of him would begin to fade over time and I could finally let him go. After starting a small fire, I sat staring at the flames, second guessing my choice.

A familiar baritone voice pulled me from my thoughts, “What are you doing?”

My eyes flicked up to the figure now standing before me, with shaggy hair that was messy and wind-blown. It was Frankie. I was shocked and confused, “W-Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be walking down the aisle?”

A sad smile formed on his lips as he sat down beside me. His eyes focused on the endless horizon that stretched in front of us, “We called it off.”

My breath hitched, I shouldn’t be excited about this, but I was. “Why?”

He sighed, “Well, at her doctor's appointment on Monday, they said she was further along than what I was led to believe…which means it’s not my kid. I was still on my last deployment. That’s why she’d been going to her appointments alone until I insisted. She knew the whole time.”

I gave him a sympathetic look, “Oh Frankie, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, “I’m not. I was fucking miserable. She admitted she was cheating on me the whole time I was gone. I had a feeling something was going on, but I didn’t know what and had no proof... I decided to come here while I figured out my next steps.”

His eyes met mine, “Now the even bigger question is…why are you here?”

I laughed nervously, my eyes shifting to look anywhere but at him, “Saying my goodbyes to you.”

His eyes drifted to the box sitting in front of me, “Are those my letters?”

I nodded, “They are.”

He reached down, thumbing through them as he asked, “Were you gonna burn them?”

My brows furrowed, “I was. I needed to forget so I could move on.”

His lips set into a tight line as he nodded, “So, you here with your other half this time?”

I shook my head, squinting from the last rays of light that were shining into my eyes as I looked at him, “I no longer have another half. I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke it off about two months ago.”

He gave me a dimpled smile, leaning in closer as he pointed to the box, “How about you don’t burn my letters, and instead, let me fill up that empty space with yours.”

I gave him a disbelieving laugh, “My letters? You still have them?”

He smiled, causing his eyes to crinkle at the corners, “Of course. I couldn’t let you go either, mi sol. They’re the only thing that’s stayed with me since I left Texas.”

His hand found its way to my cheek as he pressed his forehead to mine. The rush I felt from his touch was something that I knew I would never feel with anyone else. I’ve craved it every day since I’ve been without him. Knowing that we were both free to be together now only heightened the feeling.

He pulled away, “Where are you staying this time?”

I smiled, “Your suite.”

He snickered, “Ahh, so you’re the reason I couldn’t get it, huh?”

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as I fought a smile and nodded.

“Well, sadly your suite wasn’t open either. I guess that’s what I get for booking at the absolute last minute. I got stuck one floor down,” he gave me his best pouty face.

I couldn’t help laughing at him, “If it means that much to you, I’d be happy to let you have your suite back.”

Frankie scooted closer and wrapped his arm around my back, allowing his hand to rest on my hip, “I only want it if it comes with you in it.”

My head lowered to lay on his shoulder, “That’s the only way it comes.”

We sat in silence for some time. Huddled in each other’s embrace, watching storm clouds roll in over the ocean. The waves became choppier the closer they got. The ocean seemed to mirror the nervousness I was suddenly feeling. Something that I had wanted for so long was finally possible and it scared the hell out of me. Part of me was questioning if this was even really happening. It seemed surreal.

Frankie shifted, kissing my forehead before mumbling against my hair, “We should probably get inside before we get rained on.”

I nodded, sitting up and reaching for the shoebox and placing the lid on top. Frankie stood, turning to pull me up with him. I watched as he kicked mounds of sand on top of the small fire to put it out. Then, he took my hand, I trailed behind as he led us into the resort.

Once we reached the lobby, he turned to me, “You’re sure you want me to stay with you?”

I gave him a shy smile and nodded. He almost looked relieved as his lips tugged upward, “Alright, I’m gonna go get my room sorted out and grab my stuff. I’ll be up shortly.”

I was in a daze as I walked over to the elevator, still not believing this was happening. After making my way to our suite, I closed the door, but didn’t latch it completely so Frankie could come in when he was ready. I decided to wait for him on the balcony, leaving the sliding door open so that he would know where I was.

In the distance, I could see the rain falling into the ocean. Something about it was comforting, almost like we were being cleansed of the unhappiness we had been living in - a renewal of sorts. It was like a new beginning was on the horizon. Thunder rolled quietly in the distance, masking the sound of Frankie’s bare footsteps as he approached me from behind. His arms snaked around my waist, causing me to sink back into him. His lips grazed against the shell of my ear, “How does it feel to be on this side of the railing?”

I smiled, “Better now that you’re here with me.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh against my cheek, just as his right arm released me. His hand moved to the back of my neck to gather my hair and pull it to the side as his lips left small kisses across the newly exposed skin. I could feel his touch all the way down to my fingertips and toes. It felt more amazing than I could have imagined.

His right arm reached back around my shoulders, his large hand resting just under my chin to tilt my face toward his. Being this close to him with nothing separating us had me vibrating as he nuzzled his nose against mine. I turned in his arms, closing the distance between us. Our lips tentatively explored each other at first. Frankie pulled me in tighter, deepening the kiss as my hand made its way upward to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. His tongue expertly explored mine as he moaned quietly into my mouth.

I was suddenly feeling every emotion all at once. I never thought this day would happen, didn't think it was even possible. It was almost overwhelming, causing tears to gather in my eyes as I held on to him like he was going to disappear into thin air. The tears spilled down my cheeks just as he pulled away. His eyes were full of emotion too, his hands moving to wipe away the moisture from my face. His forehead pressed against mine as he sighed almost in relief, “Is this real? Because I feel like I’m stuck in one of my dreams...”

I nodded, grabbing hold of his wrists as his hands cupped my cheeks, “I feel like I am too, but it’s real. We’re here…together.”

Frankie smiled against my lips, pulling me in for a chaste kiss just as the rain began falling around us. We stepped back further into the alcove of the balcony to avoid getting soaked, laughing as we took each other into a tight embrace. Our lips crashed together, both of us now needing more. It became urgent with an all-consuming passion as I pushed him toward the open door, peeling his shirt over his head as he stumbled backwards through the threshold.

Our clothes littered the floor of the suite from the living room to the bedroom. Our bodies broke apart along the way just long enough to remove the cumbersome fabrics, only to be drawn back together like two magnets. Once the back of my legs hit the bed, I sank down. Scooting up to the center as Frankie trailed behind me, placing kisses on whatever part of my skin was the closest.

As I settled into the plush bedding, his mouth met mine again. First, gently sucking my bottom lip before seeking entrance and massaging my tongue with his. We went on like that for some time, allowing our hands to explore each other’s body’s and grinding against one another. My body felt like it was on fire, skin prickling from his touch. It was unlike anything I had ever felt.

Frankie’s mouth began to move downward - caressing my neck, breasts, and stomach. He placed soft kisses and licks between whispering sweet words against my flesh.

“Mi sol.” Kiss. (My sun.)

“Mi vida.” Kiss. (My life)

“Mi todo.” Kiss. (My everything.)

“Never letting you go.” Kiss.

“Never again.” Kiss.

His words were like an electric current that ran straight to my core. His large calloused hands slid down the length of my body alternating between light touches and firm kneading of my skin, awakening something inside me that I had long thought dead.

By the time his lips reached the apex of my thighs, I was already coming undone. His tongue danced around the bundle of nerves, causing my muscles to tremble. My fingers reached down to twist in his messy hair as I arched up into him. He settled in, lifting my legs over his shoulders and gripping my hips, not holding back as his mouth worked me over. The stubble of his patchy beard brushed against my most sensitive areas, creating a new sensation that had me begging for more. Once his fingers joined in, I didn’t stand a chance. After a few curls against that special spongy spot, I was seeing stars. Falling over the edge and moaning out incoherent words.

After working me through it. I could feel him smiling against my thigh as he planted a few kisses there before standing and disappearing from my sight. I could hear him rummaging around through his bag before coming back to the bed and settling on his knees between my thighs. He tucked a small square packet between his teeth before stroking himself with one hand and rubbing at my thigh with the other. I watched his face as his eyes explored my body. They were blown black with his arousal. His messy curls hung down over his forehead, beginning to stick to the sweat forming on his brow.

I took this time to take in his form, his arms and chest flexed with his movements - emphasizing how defined they now were. His abs were less defined, but I could still see them tensing as his breathing picked up from the anticipation of what was to come. I also noticed the scars. Those were new. One near his upper right shoulder and another on his lower left abdomen. Something about them made my heart clench in my chest. I couldn’t look at them anymore, now shifting my eyes down further to watch as he slid the condom over his girthy length. His size was bigger than I expected, but I was ready for him.

I reached my arms out toward him, “Frankie, please…I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”

He smirked, “Un momento, mi sol. I wanna savor this sight… savor you. I’ve waited too long to rush this.” (One moment, my sun.)

His voice was lower than I had ever heard it, and his words only spurred my need. The ache that I now had for him was almost unbearable. I couldn’t wait.

“Frankie, I need to feel you… please.”

He leaned down, rubbing himself along my entrance. My hips had a mind of their own as they bucked against him, seeking more - needing more. He chuckled at my eagerness, now pushing in slowly. He hissed through his teeth once he was buried to the hilt, seeming to need a few seconds to compose himself. He leaned down, propping himself on his elbows as he began to move, thrusting slowly as he took my mouth with his. I wrapped my legs around his hips, meeting his thrusts, swallowing his moans.

His lips moved to my ear, “Fuck, I’ve missed you. I’m sorry I took this from us.”

I held him tighter, “You didn’t take anything from us. We’re here now. It’s ok.”

His eyes met mine before he leaned down to nuzzle our noses together, “Never again.”

I pulled him into a searing kiss as the tension at my center began to build for a second time. The intimacy of the moment and the way the base of his length was rubbing against me sent me over the edge. I tensed around him as he increased the pace of his thrusts, groaning loudly into my neck as he fell over the edge with me.

He raised up to lean his head against mine, panting heavily as he spoke against my mouth, “I love you. Always have…”

I smiled, “I’ve always loved you too.”

A slow lingering kiss followed, before he finally pulled away. He reached between us to secure the condom as he pulled out with a quiet groan. I watched as he walked to the adjoining bathroom to dispose of it. He wasted no time, returning to join me under the duvet and pulling me against his chest.

We were quiet for a time, just enjoying the feel of being in each other’s arms. His right hand rubbed lightly up and down my spine as mine ran over his chest. My fingertips involuntarily moved to seek out the scar on his lower abdomen. His left hand captured my fingers and brought them to lay on his chest, where I could feel his heart beating away under my palm.

“It’s from a gunshot. So is the one on my shoulder,” he said in a somewhat detached voice. I hugged him a little tighter and tangled my leg with his.

“I was in the middle of a lot of bad shit when I was deployed…done a lot of bad shit. Mentally, it fucked me up for a while…but thoughts of finding you got me through it.”

My fingers moved to trace the bullseye tattoo on his left hand between his thumb and pointer finger. That was new too. I found something about it to be incredibly sexy.

“Do you have any more of these?” I asked.

He laughed quietly, “I do. I’m almost embarrassed to show it to you though.”

My head popped up to look at him as he smiled shyly at me.

“Why? Show me?”

He raised his left arm so that he could remove the watch he was wearing. After tossing the watch on the nightstand, he turned his wrist to face upward so I could see it. In a script small enough to be hidden by his watch band, were the words ‘All that separates us is time.’

My hand moved to my mouth as I gasped, “That’s from one of my letters...”

I pulled it closer so that I could give it a proper look, “Is…is that my handwriting too?”

He laughed, tightening his right arm back around me, “Yes, it is. It was my way of keeping you with me.”

I could feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes again. I had to fight them back as I leaned up to give him a lingering kiss to show my appreciation.

“So, where have you been all this time?” I asked after settling back down on his chest.

He leaned his head closer, lips brushing against my hair as he spoke, “When I wasn’t deployed, I was in Florida.”

I scoffed, “And here I was mostly looking in Texas.”

He squeezed me a little tighter, “I’m sorry.”

I chuckled, “Doesn’t matter…even if you had stayed there, I probably still would’ve had a hard time finding you. Did you know that the last name Morales is the 63rd most common last name in the United States? Don’t even get me started on how many of those have a first name of Francisco.”

He snorted, “You haven’t changed at all.”

I snickered, “No, in some ways I haven’t.”

My fingertips began to trace patterns in the freckles on his chest as his strummed through my hair.

“What did you end up doing, career wise?” he asked.

I smiled, knowing he wouldn’t be surprised, “I’m an editor at a major publishing house.”

He raised his head to look down at me, “No shit? Really?”

I nodded.

A wide smile spread across his face, “That…makes me happy and really proud. I know that was something you wanted.”

“What’re you doing now that you’re out of the military?” I asked.

He shrugged and laughed nervously, “I was working odd jobs while I tried to figure it out. Honestly, my life is a mess right now. I’ve no idea what I’m doing…and as of two days ago, I’m homeless. Everything I own is packed up in those two duffels. I also spent a good chunk of my savings on a kid that’s not even mine.”

I sighed, “Damn…that is a mess.”

I felt Frankie nod, “Yeah, but I’ve been in worse situations. It’ll all work out in the end. I’m sure of it.”

He shifted, scooting down to lay on his side to face me, “What about your writing though? I remember how important that was to you…I always loved when you would include bits of poetry with your letters. I mean your letters were poetry in and of themselves...”

I smiled, reaching up to rub my thumb over the bare heart-shaped patch in his beard, “I started a novel, but I haven’t been able to finish it.”

The creases between his brows deepened, “Why not?”

I watched my fingers brush through his messy curls, now noticing the smattering of gray strands throughout. My eyes shifted to his as I spoke, “Because I didn’t know the ending yet. I still wasn’t sure if it was a romance or a tale of star-crossed lovers that ended in tragedy.”

He smirked as his hand slid down my side and grasped my hip, “What about now?

My hand moved to cup his cheek, “I think it’s gonna be a romance about reconnecting with your first love and getting a second chance at a new beginning.”

Frankie smiled, snuggling in closer as he nuzzled his nose with mine. “Whatta we do now?”

I kissed him, breaking away with a shy smile to ask, “How do you feel about Massachusetts? I’ve got a king bed and a house that feels empty with only me in it.”

Frankie’s arms tightened around me, pulling my body flush against his. “That sounds like a new beginning to me.”

And it was.

👉Fun Fact: Why does Frankie call Elena “mi sol” (my sun)? The name ‘Elena’ is Greek in origin and means ‘shining light.’

A/N: Thank you for joining me on my very first and very random Frankie fic. I'm normally a Dieter girl, so this was a little different for me. I do hope you all enjoyed it. 💜😘

Comments and reblogs are appreciated.

👉 Not sure who out of my regulars are interested in Frankie, so feel free to ignore if you're not. We shall return to our regularly scheduled Dieter Bravo shenanigans after this.

NP Tags: @alokaerza @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @annalovesflorida @annieispunk @auteurdelabre

@avastrasposts @babycatkitty @bitchwitch1981 @bunniboo0015 @burntheedges

@cakipy-blog @chaoticfestninja @copperhalfcent @darkheartgatita @fifitheragertot

@for-a-longlongtime @girlofchaos @guelyury @gwendibleywrites @harriedandharassed

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@jazzloveslatte @jeewrites @jessthebaker @katw474 @knownasyami

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@poodlebae @quicax3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @rebel-held @rhoorl

@runningmom94 @samiamproductions @sandaltoesocks @senorabond

@sherala007 @sin-djarin @stevie75 @sunnytuliptime @survivingandenduring

@themonadiaries-blog @timpletance @titlee78 @tkchaos @toomanystoriessolittletime

@trulybetty @txlady37 @wannab-urs @weho2kcmo @yghuibt

@lady-bess @nerdieforpedro @din-cognito @joels-darlin

Folks who interacted with the teaser post: @eff4freddie @maryfanson @christinamadsen @morallyinept @sonnestrandmeer

@76bookworm76 @lizzie-cakes @jensensational71 @suziesc @cheekychaos28

@fpsantiago @pedrostories

Credits: Shell divider courtesy of @kaitsawamura

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x ofc #oneshot #frankie morales fic rec #frankie morales one shot fic rec #tropeoff2024 #second chance at love

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thefusioncelestial · 19 days ago

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Mix 5: The Rich Bear

Here is Tyler:

Nature boy disguised as park ranger. Very out doorsey, loves camping, and an astrologist. Apparently, the lack of light pollution, many night shifts in the woods will introduce you to the stars. And he wrestles bears, races with the deer, swims with the fishes, and lord knows what he does with birds. Sings with them? Basically the Avatar of the Park. And in all his time as a park ranger, poaching has gone down to zilch in his nature reserve.

And then there is John:

The city boy. You would think he was a typical rich play boy. But its an act. When you are put together & don't have to work a day in your life, a lot of people want to use you to get to that status. He spends his waking hours funding charitable causes through art auctions. Yes, the fake play boy has an artist side. Very good for fashion tips too.

They both know each other. They hated each other in high school. Something about being rivals io the same basketball team back in the day. The clashing energy pushing their team to win state every year until graduation. They started out at different colleges. But depending on who you ask, they followed or stalked each other because they ended up at the same uni for the actual undergrad work.

Tyler studied Zoology. John, Fashion Design. And despite not sharing a single class, they ended up at the same club: Scuba diving. The experience inspired them in different ways, and before graduation, they buried the hatchet. They made a promise. If they were not married in five years, they would meet up at a certain park at its main pavilion. This wasn't a marriage proposal, they just were curious on how two different life trajectories could lead to the same resort of being single.

John could have married anyone. He was well liked, well known, and never struggled for a thing. His relationships just ended when he found out their motives or at least his perception of such. His money. One scheme was marriage, divorce, and then a rich alimony. Another, she didn't need to marry him, just get her pregnant. He hoped Tyler was having a better time...

But Tyler never tried. He put his full focus into animal related work, and found he could do the most good as a park ranger. He liked the outdoors too. He could be a bit much, at least once or twice or week, he would go out working shirtless. Something about a better connection to life. Thank god he didn't turn into one of those online life gurus. He figured John would have baby mommas all over the city by now. The ladies were al over him in Uni. A new girlfriend every week. Tyler shuddered at the child support payments. Especially once the court knew he was loaded.

And that was the life, avoiding baby traps, and snapping bear traps, but eventually that date came closer.

At first neither of them were going to show up. What are the chances they both messed up? But they went anyway. A change of environment helps anyone no matter the settings.

Knotfield Park. A giant hilly grass land with pavilions on selected hilltops. The one this pair aimed for was the biggest one in the middle. John came in a Mercedes-Ben, & Tyler a park ranger truck.

They both arrived at the pavilion at the same time. They were both surprised.

"Uncommitted Playboi," Tyler blerted.

"Senator Moosefarts," John responded.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before they both broke into a smile and hugged each other.

John started. "Who knew we striked out unlucky. A rich boy with nothing to do, and a nature boy living it up with bears."

"How did you know? Were you spying on me?" Tyler asked.

"Word got around that the God of the Wild emigrated to the US and I investigated. Come to find out, it was you being you. No matter how much you hide from the world, it finds you. Maybe we should switch lives..", John said, ending in a sad tone.

"All I got is money. Doesn't lead to healthy foundations in the relationship department," he exclaimed.

"Bears scare off the ladies you know." Tyler quipped.

"So what now?" he asked.

"You know I work in auction houses right? So, I get a peek at a lot of stuff with a lot of history. Snagged one for this occasion. It's ~~~Magic~~~." John said enthusiastically.

Tyler remembered that John was into supernatural stuff when he was in high school.

"How is a magic item going to fix our problems? Is a genie's lamp? First wish: never ending apple pie.." Tyler licked his lips.

"Haha, no. A magic mirror. One from ancient Mesopotamia." John Said.

"Historical trash. We going to admire ourselves into a new future?" Tyler said sarcastically.

"Moosefarts, the mirror works as a fortune telling device. You put a piece of your own hair on the polished surface and point it to the stars, and it illuminates the way."

It was now night time. The stars clear in view.

"Let's try it." Tyler said.

"Oh?" John said in confusion.

Tyler already cut off a piece of his hair to put on this mirror. John quickly did the same.

"Why at the same time, Playboi?" Tyler asked.

"Why not." John responded.

He pointed the mirror at the sky. Nothing a happened.

"Maybe you are doing it wrong, Maybe the stars don't give enough light. Point at the moon," insistently said by Tyler.

"Someone is a bit excited by my expensive trash." John Smiled.

He tried the moon, and then the etchings around the mirror glowed. Both Tyler & John could read it for some reason, and they both said

"Two paths, under the moon, converge as one. The source of life, a river."

The mirror's polished surface glowed brighter and brighter until they were both glowing. A light path formed from their feet forming two light roads. Leading to the nearby forest.

"You see what I am seeing?" John asked.

"Yes." Tyler responded.

Tyler trusted his instincts and started following his path.

John hesitated, and then following Tyler's example to not be outdone, followed his.

After 30 minutes, they were in the middle of the woods. Skinny trees, it was fall time to, so not much foliage blocking the way. A lot of brown leaves on the forest floor tho.

Their paths eventually converged, a figure cloaked in light was at the convergence point. They couldn't make out any features except it being humanoid shaped.

"Do yo trust me, John?" Tyler asked.

"This time sure, I got you into this." John joked.

They both walked closer. But as they did. They became enamored by this being. They never stopped walking, and soon they were up real close to it. And yet they didn't stop. They were inside the glowing figure. John half way on one side, Tyler the other. Was it a hologram?

Just then, the light exploded and the two best friends were jerked forward. They smashed against each other & then turned into light particles. They floated for a bit and then swirled around the glowing figure.

The swirling lights that was once John & Tyler converged inside this light being in waves, smashing into it. Each time, the light being gained distinguishing features and became more solid, the light glowing dimmer.

The first wave: The humanoid being was now a skeletal frame surrounded by light.

The second wave: the nervous and vascular system started growing like vines and grew around in and the skeletal frame. A brain was forming.

The third wave: organs and & muscles were formed. It looked like one of those life sized cadaver models of the body without skin.

The fourth wave: Blood starts pumping and skin is formed.

Mentally, John & Tyler were confused. They were inside this light being & at the same time swirling around it.

The fifth wave: They understood. The light being was them. Both of them. In a sense they met their future self and he used the past to bring himself to the present. They were broken down into light and used to make him. Their destiny was to become one and chart a new future. Strangely, they excepted this. Life always brought them together. Maybe that was the hint that they were one being in two bodes. And now they shall be whole.

They gave in. Their minds were broken apart and put back together as one mind.

The sixth wave: John & Tyler's dna was mixed together and added to being. With this set of new instructions, the generic body began to morph.

Tyler's physique was used as the template. The skin tightened & etched Tyler's features the neck down. Loud stretching noises were produced. The biceps bulged out and the shoulders & pecs grew with a popping noise, but John's physique was added as well, and the H body shape was more fleshed out, like being pulled from both sides from the waist. The skin was fighting against this and so he became more cut, and his veins became more visible.

John's face was used as the template. The features morphed to copy John's but soon Tyler's characteristics had their say in this. The eyes became more sunken, the lip color more towards the skin tone. The ears moved to be more like Tyler's. When it came to hair, it was short cut like John's but darker like Tyler's. John's hairline won out, but Tyler's eyes would be used. Tyler's jawline and chin would win out, but John 's potential for facial hair gave him a lowkey grizzled look. The chin was a combination of both, long & thick.

Tyler's ass would form on it, and in the front, John won out. He was well endowed and needed no upgrading. Like his chin, his jewels would get hairy. But Tyler had better leg days from being out in nature, but it would use John's feet. Though for this new being its leg muscles got bigger and stronger than Tyler's, thanks to John.

Throughout this process, he would not make a sound. No moaning, no grunting. The only noise being made was from his body forming. He would find that he had a high pain tolerance.

The Seventh wave: It was shirtless like Tyler likes to be, but it had John's denim jeans.

The final wave: Their life force was added. The light built up again and let out a quick, but bright flash. He was alive. He slumped to the ground and began breathing air. His lungs sucked in the oxygen like a pair of black holes.

Who was he? This was the true final step. The name he chose would solidify the merger of the best friends, there would be one mind going forward. Just say who you are.

He stood up and opened his eyes:

I am James. His jeans became unbuttoned. He fixed that. He would need to get some new clothing.

What does he do in life? Run's charities to fund wildlife refuges. He spends his life between city & nature. James felt a sudden rush of confidence. It was his Tyler half pushing away what kept John from forming relationships: a fear of commitment. He knew someone, Analise. And with John helped push away Tyler's social anxiety. He kept his love of nature but would not selfishly keep that to himself. And with John's money, he could hire a team of new park rangers to protect Tyler's old park. He would still wrestles bears, race with deer, swim with the fish, and lord knows what he does with birds. He would just not do it alone anymore.

#male merge #body merging #merging tf #male fusion #fusion #thefusioncelestial #male body transformation #male transformation #merge #musclegrowth #muscle #muscular #male body merge

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emlovessid · 7 months ago

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@jegulus-microfic may 2, delight, 472 words for @pupmotif <3 may our love story live on forever

When he looks back on it in years to come, it’s hard to believe that this all began in an online server with just a simple message, a message that would change the trajectory of both of their lives forever.

But what starts as just one message, becomes another, and then another until Regulus finds himself pavloved into smiling whenever he hears the telltale ding of a notification. James’ messages become such an integral part of his day to day, an endless stream of I just spilled my coffee, this is the worst day ever and nevermind, I just saw a squirrel to why are you online, shouldn’t you be asleep and pot calling the kettle black, we’re in the same timezone, idiot.

When James tells him that he’s going to be in town for a concert, the very same concert that Regulus himself is going to be at, Regulus is perhaps a little too eager in agreeing to meet up.

“Hi,” Regulus says, eyeing up the James standing in front of him compared to the James he’s only ever seen through his phone screen.

“Hi.”

“You’re taller than I thought you’d be,” he blurts out, which makes James laugh, and it’s all over for Regulus then.

If he thought his obsession with James was bad before, it’s nothing compared to this. Now that he knows what his laugh sounds like face to face, what his body feels like pressed against his as they hug, what he smells like where Regulus has his nose tucked into his chest, he’s not sure that words on a screen will ever be enough for him again.

“Is it crazy that I miss you, when we’ve literally only met for five minutes?” James says one night on a voice call.

The delight he feels at James’ words hits Regulus square in the chest where he’s lying on his side in bed, his phone on loud speaker on his pillow beside him.

“If it’s crazy, then I’m crazy too,” Regulus whispers.

What’s perhaps more crazy, is flying across the country to go to a concert with someone you’ve met literally once for barely more than a conversation. But here Regulus is, after months and months of messages and phone calls and the phantom touch of a hug Regulus wishes he could live in forever, standing at a train station in James’ home city.

The world seems to slow down when he sees James through the crowd. Regulus is about to make a joke that he can’t believe they actually went through with the matching t-shirts, but James doesn’t break his stride for even a second as he steps right into Regulus’ space, hands coming up to cradle his face between his hands as he pulls him into a bruising kiss.

Maybe it’s not so crazy after all.

#a love letter to discord and fandom friendships <3 #still posting this even though you threatened to kill remus </3 #jegulus #jegulus fic #marauders #sometimes i write things

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khunyuki · 6 months ago

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"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ꜱɪᴅᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ: 𝚊. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

Synopsis: To Hoshina Soshiro, it was a feeling of love not at first sight but even before he met her, he knew he loved her. To Uzui Kagami, he was her hopes and dreams came true and learned to love him since. From childhood until adulthood, they've been together. Witness their romance from the past! A bond that can never be broken so easily for it is formed by the culmination of time.

Pairing/s: Soshiro Hoshina x Fiancee!OC

Notes: I am posting this first because I thought it would be better to show their good relationship first than the planned main story. Soshiro is down bad for his fiancee.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Childhood Sweethearts, School Romance

Masterlist: TOC, Next

One of the happiest days in Uzui Kagami's life was the day, she and Soshiro became engaged as children. During her earliest memories, she absolutely adored her parents' relationship and dreams to have the same once she got older. To her surprise, a visit to some place other than her house changed the trajectory of her life! Why? Because her dream has finally come true! At least half of it did.

From that moment onwards, she would often visit the Hoshina estate to train with them and be with her fiance. Poor Kagami was so shy that despite this being what she wanted, she couldn't even bring herself to come near him, satisfied with just watching him from afar.

Kagami would hide behind a pillar or a wall and watch the Hoshina brothers train, with her eyes on Soshiro and Soshiro only. She would admire his skills, his looks, his growth, and his persistence. Not that she could tell him that, she couldn't even be in the same room as him without clamming up.

For the first few weeks of introduction, she would gaze at him from afar until his older brother could no longer handle it. Soichiro-niisan dragged her out of her hiding spot like a wet kitten and placed her on the sidelines to observe closely. She tried to run away but ultimately failed from his tight grip.

"Kagami-chan, you don't have to peek from afar when you could just watch here"

Soichiro-niisan tried to smile softly in order to calm the girl he just dragged over. But all it did was to make her cower and fidget uncomfortable while looking down.

"Don't bully her, nii-san"

Soshiro, with his two bamboo swords, hit his brother with their swordstyle mercilessly.

"Ouch! Wait! Soshiro! I'm sorry so please stop already!"

Having been caught off guard with no weapons, Soichiro would've accept his hits if it didn't hurt so much. It was rare to see this side of his brother, after all.

Once he stopped, only then did Soshiro turn to look at Kagami. She had long since stopped cowering and was now admiring him. Was he her prince charming or her knight in shining armor? Maybe both, cause him saving her made her like him even more.

"You can just stay here and watch"

He said so coolly with much composure and returned to his training. Kagami could only blush, trying to hide how giddy she was feeling.

As a child, Hoshina Soshiro didn't bother to understand what his family were talking about if it wasn't related to training or kaijus. He would attempt, yes, but his young brain still isn't able to comprehend it well.

They said something about an engagement between him and someone he will meet that day. He doesn't mind if it's something his parents decide for him. Arranged marriages are common like his older brother who already has a fiancee too.

It truly dawned on him from the moment his eyes laid on a particular shy girl that just entered the room. She was hiding behind her father but would peek out several times. He could only catch glimpses of her but he could already feel the pounding of his heart.

It was weird. He never experienced such having his heart beating so fast when resting. Was it because she reminds him of a squirrel, so cute and fidgety? He didn't know but when their eyes met, it felt like arrow shot through his heart.

It was love at first sight.

Soshiro was blushing madly for the very first time and his older brother doesn't help at all with all his teasing. Maybe it was the commotion that his brother was making that set their engagement in stone.

Cause when Kagami looked up from her bow, he was already avoiding her eyes. Especially once he saw her hopeful face and sparkly eyes. It struck a critical hit to his heart.

From that moment onwards, he would see her around the estate. She would sometimes be training on the dojo or watch him and his brother train from afar. Whenever she's watching, he couldn't help but take glimpses of her causing him to be distracted and lose cue his older brother's teasing.

As much as he wanted to look cool, he couldn't really do it after losing to his brother, can he? The saving grace for him would be when his brother picked her up and put her down next to him. It annoyed him when he did so cause how could his brother touch his fiancee like that. Soshiro was able to look cool by 'defending' her from his brother.

Be that as it may, it was truly bad for his young heart to have her around him like this. How could he remain calm when she's been staring at him the whole time. If he did talk to her while looking at her face, he can't guarantee not stuttering in front of her.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 5~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

It didn't take long for the two of them to be close enough to feel comfortable with each other's presence. They could just sit on the porch without talking and they're already content with it. Occasionally, they would spar until it became a bonding moment just for the two of them.

Most of their progress was all thanks to Soichiro-niisan who decided that it was his duty to be as meddlesome as possible in his brother's lovelife. He, not only would egg on his little brother by calling him weak, but also tease him in front of his crush. It contributed to the explosive growth of Soshiro when his task is to keep his older brother's mouth shut tightly from embarrassment.

Soshiro would continue to lose over and over again but demands to have a rematch even if it meant having tantrums in front of Kagami. He knew he was losing face by doing so but he atleast wanted to look cool yet his brother kept denying him of that.

Much to Soichiro-niisan's surprise and pleasure, his taunts did not only work on his little brother but also his little sister-in-law. As clueless she may be, she could tell if the words being said were an insult to her fiancee. Kagami would bring out her meanest look and glare at her big brother-in-law.

During those times, Kagami would scold him for bullying his little brother and say that Soshiro is the best swordsman in the world despite being so young and he could beat him because he's always been working hard and putting in effort more than anyone else. It would only be at the end that she realizes that it was all a bait from the smirk on his face as he leave the two blushing figures alone.

It still took a while for them to be close enough to make eye contact with being a mess. But atleast they got to talk to each other as a result.

To Hoshina Soshiro, it was the beginning of something new.

To Uzui Kagami, it was the start of her dream come true.

It was the age of innocence where seeds have been planted, not knowing what kind of fruit it will bear.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 7~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Two years after their engagement, they were now a bit more mature yet still childish. They understand that they have duties to perform and live up to expectations of the adults. Such burdens, when introduced to children was a lot of pressure to say the least.

Soshiro acknowledging to himself that he is a reject compared to his perfect brother. Only his persistence to wield the sword was his salvation.

Kagami having to face countless trials not knowing that it might never end in the pursuit of perfection. In hopes of being acknowledged by her family despite her grief.

Just last year, Kagami's mother died along with her unborn baby brother. It was an unfortunate incident where a kaiju appeared near the hospital on the day of her checkup and they got caught in the aftermath. Ever since then, her father became a different person along with her other clan members.

The shift in the atmosphere was so obvious that even Kagami, as dense as she is, could feel it. She was restricted from visiting the Hoshina estate in order to prepare herself as the sole heir to the head of the clan. Many times she wished to run away but she couldn't do so because whenever she got caught, more punishment would just await her.

Her solace was when the Hoshinas would come to visit. They would dress her up and tell her to smile and act like nothing happened to not disgrace her family any further. In which, she does so without question cause just meeting her fiancee was enough for her.

Soshiro felt a pleasant surprise with how Kagami welcomed him to her home with much excitement but maybe that was just him missing her as it has been a long time since they last met each other.

As they were given the time to be alone, he knew that it was an act shown to the people around them. Only with him does she show her real face, as does he. Their comfort is with each other, comrades in their struggles at their young age.

In the place where Hoshina Soshiro believes that he is a reject, to Uzui Kagami he is perfect just the way he is.

In the place where Uzui Kagami has to be perfect in every way, to Hoshina Soshiro her imperfections are part of her charms.

The seeds have been nurtured and sprouted, taking root into the deepest pits of their hearts.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 13~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Middle school is the place where young teens start to experience such things called hormones. Spring is the moment of encounters but it is also the season of love.

Kagami doesn't think that being in middle school would change anything as it is just a small part of her life. She didn't think it was as important as her life back at home. That's what she try to tell herself because it's been over a year and she never had any friends yet.

It doesn't matter does it, she thought. But in reality, she blames her shy personality and being an introvert for making her lose out on things. Her pessimistic attitude doesn't help as it only makes things worse.

Hormones were the worst thing ever as it developed her body in the most uncomfortable ways like the sudden growth of her chest and the hellish pain of losing blood on a monthly basis. It also messes up her mind by giving her complicated thoughts and the sudden influx of emotions was enough to make her crazy as she has to act like nothing is happening.

There was one thing she believes in though. Love. It was something she already experienced herself and will continue to do so in the future. This age only gives her fantasies of what she wants their relationship to be like if she gets the courage to make a move.

"What are you thinking to make you smile like that?"

Soshiro asked as he long put down his book in order to observe her. Since when? She didn't know but being caught in the act itself was enough to make her feel embarrassed.

"I-It's nothing!"

While she tried to cover her face with the book on her hands, Soshiro pretended to think by placing his thumb and index finger on his chin before he revealed a mischievous grin.

"Were you... Thinking about me? Even though I'm right in front of you?"

Hoshina Soshiro struck a homerun! If only the ground could swallow her whole so that she could hide, but there is no hole to hide inside the library. She had to settle with pressing the book closer to her face as that's the only way she could hide.

"You're so cute~"

Soshiro chuckled with his eyes open as she fidgets around and didn't know what to do. Can a human being possibly melt? Cause she's combusting so much she could melt.

"Please stop teasing me"

She let go of her book and buried her face in her arms on the table to hide her burning face. It was a futile attempt as she was already caught but she still did it anyways. At least let her keep her dignity!

She could hear him getting up from his seat and sitting beside her. His fingers brushing her hair and tucking it behind her burning ears.

"It's true though"

He paused and she couldn't help but take a peek at the rustling beside her. He was in the same position as hers yet peeking at her with his eyes open, showing that soft and sweet smile that is exclusively for her eyes only. Maintaining eye contact to show the seriousness of his words.

"For me, you're the prettiest girl in the entire world"

Uzui Kagami.exe has stopped working.

Hoshina Soshiro.exe has also stopped working.

Thank goodness it was only the two of them in the library at this hour, otherwise, it would be the listeners who dies at second-hand embarrassment from their flirting.

The buds of youth quivers at its desire to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 15~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Hoshina Soshiro has made it a habit to tease his fiancee whenever possible. He couldn't help it when her reactions are so cute and amusing. He feels proud to being the only one with the right to see her like that.

He often smirks and act smug in front of his classmates and the other boys in their school, those he clearly knew has a blatant crush on his fiancee. Sometimes he wishes that she knows just how popular she is so she could feel confident in herself but at the same time he's glad she doesn't know.

It was always clear as day that she favors him more than any other, to him and to the people around them. To others, she would grace a polite smile and only answer their questions professionally. With him, she would laugh at his jokes and engage in conversations. Showing off that sweet smile that captivates anyone who sees it, including Soshiro.

Soshiro didn't know how many times he had to control himself from glomping at her and keeping her by his side, somewhere only he can see. The same smile that critically hit his heart on the first day they met continues to do so every single day, each time getting more powerful.

When he reminisces on their first meeting to now, he could see the improvement on their relationship for they had grown closer than before. If in the future, they continue to be together while working and get married then have kids---.

Stop! He's getting ahead of himself when they hadn't even hold hands yet... Wait... They haven't hold hands yet?

"Soshiro? Soshiro! Are you okay? You suddenly slapped yourself"

Asked Kagami with eyes filled with concern at his unexpected actions, not knowing she was the cause of it.

"It was nothing"

"Eh? Are you sure? That looks painful though"

She lifted her arm so her hand could touch the growing bruise on his cheeks. The feeling of her fingers gingerly touching his cheeks like it was something fragile and precious felt like static so he winced.

"It is painful! Come on, let's go to the infirmary to dress it okay?"

She immediately held his hand like it was a natural thing to do and dragged him to the infirmary. Soshiro felt stupid at his earlier thought. Who said they haven't hold hands yet? They were doing it now, weren't they?

Still, he hopes she doesn't turn around to look at him so she wouldn't see just how red his face is.

Since then, Soshiro keeps making excuses to touch her hand. He doesn't need to since she'll gladly let him do so anytime.

You must give it sufficient nutrients in order to bloom.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~AGE 18~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Ever since they were children, they've been training hard to join the defense force as their ultimate goal. To slay kaijus, serve their country, and make their family proud.

After passing the written exams, Uzui Kagami and Hoshina Soshiro are confident in their abilities to pass the second part of the exams as well.

"Are you nervous?"

Soshiro asked the girl beside him as they stand in front of the venue, squeezing her hand in comfort.

"Just a little bit"

Kagami placed her free hand on her chest, not only was she nervous of the exams but also the thought of encountering new people.

"Me too. But we've been working hard for this for a very long time, haven't we?"

Soshiro despite being nervous himself cheered her up. In doing so, cleared both his and her worries.

"You're right"

Giving one last squeeze on each other's hands, they walked inside and took the test.

The two of them settled inside a cafe as they revealed the envelopes that will change their lives.

"Somehow, i'm getting nervous that my hands are shaking"

Kagami said as she attempted to stop her shaking, the tension was making her hands clammy and sweaty.

"Do you want to open it now?"

Soshiro was calm, seeing her this fussy once more felt like his nervousness was transferred to her instead of him. He felt guilty but still thinks she was cute like this.

"No matter the outcome, i'll still be proud of you"

He tried to comfort her with his words though it somehow only deepened her frown.

"I can't have that. We have to pass together"

With deep concentration, she took her envelope in her hands and opened it. Though struck by her resolve, he could only smile and shake his head, copying her actions.

Uzui Kagami/Hoshina Soshiro, as a result of you satisfactory performance, you have PASSED the exam.

A moment of silence before...

"We did it! We passed!"

With a rare outburst of joy, Kagami hurriedly moved out her seat to his and tackled him with a hug. Soshiro was expecting them to both pass but it truly does bring him joy when she expresses her happiness so well.

It was one of the rare instances that he sees of her initiating things. And he was indulging in it.

"Let's celebrate this occasion with some Mont Blanc and coffee"

Kagami called for the waiter and gave their orders. At the same time, she went back to her seat after recovering from her high. It felt like they could hear each other's thoughts as they both bowed to each other.

"Let's continue to work together from now on. Please take care of me"

Rewarding their hard work and efforts, the flower finally bloomed.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~Early 20's~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Kagami and Soshiro joined the same division and stayed there together, having only each other's backs. It wasn't without struggle for them as they both specialize in sword slaying. Kagami was more flexible of the two as her precision and accuracy was better in long distance range so she could easily pick up a gun, but still she prefers to use swords if she could.

On one particular day, she heard her fellow officers making fun of her and her fiancee. It would've been fine if they were insulting her only but they also had to insult him. She was usually calm and quiet, preferring to keep to herself but she would never let anyone who insults Soshiro continue to yap their mouths.

"Please take that back! Soshiro-san has been working hard this entire time and putting in double the effort more than anyone else! If you give him a chance, you will understand that he can shine even brighter when he uses his swordsmanship!"

Hoshina Soshiro wonders why there was a crowd forming just outside the training room, until he heard a familiar voice inside of it. That voice, usually so calm and quiet to the point of whisper, was loud enough to pique the attentions of passersby. It wasn't only her uncharacteristic outburst that was eye-catching but also the words she's saying were. For it was filled with praises for him.

Once Soshiro realized that he was the topic of the conversation, he felt shy but he wanted to stop her even more. He doesn't want her to fight their fellow officers nor does he want her to get scolded by their superiors.

After wrestling his way through the crowd, he finally dragged her away, offering apologies on her behalf. Even if they did deserve the scolding they received from her, and doesn't really want to apologize to them, he had to do so out of courtesy.

Once he got her away to somewhere private, she was still quite upset, eyes glistening with unshed tears. She refused to look at his face and look down.

"I appreciate you defending me, Kagami. However, it's not like you to be that angry"

Soshiro urges her to look at him, to stare at his eyes by placing his hands on her cheeks. Once she look up, he could see the sad expression on her face. She was sad for him.

"They went too far. They don't know how great of a person you are. You're the best when it comes to close combat and slaying small kaijus, you could eliminate more than any of them could yet they still..."

"Thank you"

He wanted her to say more but her current state wouldn't let her. She was a bawling mess in his hands as he wipes away her tears. It was her first time crying in front of him yet he felt happy. All because she was thinking of him, all of it was for his sake and never yours.

The truth is, he was so incredibly touched by his fiancee's actions. It almost moved him to tears himself. Everyone wanted him to stop, his superiors and his family, yet she hopes that he could keep going. She pushes him to do what he loves despite people saying otherwise.

If they weren't at work right now, or if they were somewhere more private than the place he chose, he would've kissed her on the lips. He just settled for the forehead instead then he hugs her while patting her head. He whispered once again.

"Thank you"

The little flower happily showers in the rain filled with love.

<- Table of Contents Next ->

#soshiro fell in love at first sight #child soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #middle schooler soshiro is down bad for his fiancee #high schooler soshiro is a loser for his fiancee #pre-main story soshiro loves his fiancee #kaiju no.8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro x oc #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina x oc #yukikhun

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improbable-outset · 8 months ago

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📄 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

𝐀𝐎3 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: none, just fluff

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You didn’t expect the mysterious man that you met at a wedding to change your whole trajectory of the night

You rarely attend weddings unless it was for immediate family. However, you haven’t seen your childhood friend in a long time. After you graduated high school and went off to college, you both haven’t been in touch since.

So when she invited you over to her wedding, you couldn’t turn down an offer to see an old friend and celebrate the new couple.

The air in the venue was charged with energy as the guests mingled to meet the newlyweds. The sounds of rhythmic heels clicking and collective cheers provided a backdrop in the room.

You tried to allow yourself to be in the moment and enjoy yourself, even if you didn’t know a lot of people here. You did manage to converse with the bride’s parents who still remembered you from your childhood.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, you found yourself drawn to the periphery of the room. From your vantage point you caught sight with a lone figure.

He held a stern expression and stood with an air of mystery, a stark contrast to the laughter you were surrounded with. His posture was upright and stiff with his gaze fixed on some distant point amongst the dance floor.

He had a large muscular build. Even under his dress shirt, you could see how broad his arms were that were crossed over his chest, with one hand holding a flute.

Before you could even get a proper view of him, your attention was taken away by a collision with a hurried wedding guest. He apologised profusely before he made his way into the throng of people, leaving you disoriented.

When you tried to look back, he was no longer where he once stood. Surprised, you quickly darted your eyes around the room but it was hard to see from where you were standing.

You made a beeline towards the edge of the room to get a better view. Your gaze swept over the gathering guests— since he was a tall figure he could tower over almost everyone here but despite that, he was nowhere to be found.

Even if you only saw a glimpse of him, you felt a tad bit frustrated that your chance to see him again was now gone.

You decided to step outside to one of the balconies in hopes of getting some clarity. There was the underlying hope that you’d find him from the balcony view.

Although you doubt anyone would ask about your whereabouts, you’d just give them the excuse that you were feeling hot. It was justifiable since the room was starting to feel stuffy.

The cool night air brushed against your skin. Just as you opened the door to the balcony, you caught sight of the man from earlier again and you felt your heart stutter. Even if you were trying to look for him earlier, you weren’t fully prepared to see him again.

He had his back towards the door while leaning over the railing so you couldn’t see his face. He must’ve acknowledged your presence after hearing the door click open.

You stepped further into the balcony and moved a little closer to him but still kept a comfortable distance.

He still retained the same cool and unwavering demeanor as he silently turned to look you up and down briefly before his gaze shifted away at the far distance again.

His chestnut hair was slicked back and his jawline was sharp. However what really struck you the most was the crimson hue of his iris.

It wasn’t welcoming but it was less cold compared to the first time you laid eyes on him. Perhaps it might be because you were both alone, away from the chaos inside.

You cleared your throat before you made your first impression. “So are you lost in your own thoughts or are you deliberately avoiding the crowd,”

He didn’t turn to look at you, still looking afar at the view but he definitely heard you. “I wouldn’t call myself lost,”

His tone of voice matched his stoic presence— monotonous yet there was an underlying richness to it, even if it was just a simple sentence.

“Enjoying the festivities at least?” You said, attempting to break the barrier of his aloofness.

He turned his head to look at you with his face still neutral from any expression. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

“Nah you’re blending in just fine, I wouldn’t have noticed,” you said instinctively. You had to bite your tongue back before you said anything else. You barely even knew him and you already threw a lighthearted sarcastic remark.

Judging by the way he had carried himself so far, you would expect him to be put off by your comment. Much to your surprise, however, you saw a flicker of amusement that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, I’m doing just fine blending in?” He mused, you could hear the slight shift in his tone that emphasised his interest in the conversation now. He was starting to be more engaged and it made you feel a tingling sensation in your chest.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone noticed you’re out here,” You hoped that was the case. It didn’t appear like anyone was actively looking for him back inside and it seemed like he came here alone.

But you didn’t want to make any premature assumptions, so you just had to hope no one would interrupt your conversation.

“So, what brings you out here? I assume the same as me,” he asked.

“I needed some air,” that wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. But you weren’t going to admit that you came out here just to spark something with him, even if he was anything but approachable.

“Out of all the spots in this building for fresh air, it had to be the balcony?” He prodded, a tinge of heed in his tone.

You didn’t expect to be put on the spot like that. You were already stepping out of your comfort zone just by talking to him, but having him ask you an open question like that made your ears heat up in slight embarrassment.

You chewed on your cheek, trying to come up with a plausible answer. Hesitantly you replied, “Uh yeah…higher grounds,”

“No other reason?” He was lightheartedly taunting you now even if it wasn’t his intention.

Either you were a terrible liar and he could sense you weren’t telling him something or he was just stringing you along.

“Nope,” you quickly steered the conversation before he could say anything extemporaneous, “Weddings have a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so,” he shrugged before he continued. “But I’m sure most people are here for free food,”

“Well, between you and me…I’m here for the cake,”

“At least one of us here was being honest. The cake does look delicious,”

You continued, eager to keep the conversation going now, “I heard each tier is a different flavour,”

“I heard there’s even a coffee flavoured cake for the coffee lovers out there,”

“Uh huh..so what’s your excuse for lurking out here in the shadows,”

“Why don’t you guess?” He let the sentence hang in the air, like the answer wasn’t already obvious.

Even if he was here to get away from the crowd, there was still the nagging thought that he might’ve come here with someone and they were still looking for him back inside.

“Right, so I’m assuming you came here alone too?” You brought up the question, trying to sound as casual as you could.

“That is the case,” you felt a fraction of relief wash over you after he confirmed that, but you didn’t make it obvious in your body language. “You came here alone as well?”

“Yep. I’m from the bride's side,”

“The bride's side, huh? Well I’m here from the groom’s side,” he paused momentarily before he spoke again. “I guess we really are alone over here,”

“A connoisseur of the corner space…or the balcony,” you said lightheartedly.

“I wouldn’t call myself an expert but it is comforting here,”

It was and his presence made it feel more refreshing. Originally, you weren’t planning on staying any longer than necessary.

This wasn’t your scene at all and you wanted nothing more than to be back in your familiar confined space. But now after talking with this man, you wanted the night to last longer.

You felt the tingling sensation in your chest again, but this time there was a sudden urge to take a risky approach. “Well, if you do decide to go back inside and venture into the madness… I could save you a dance,”

The fluidity of your tone came out smoother than you expected. There was no biting back on your words now and you watched his reaction intently.

“Really now? Save me a dance?” He echoed. His words elevated his amusement as he arched his brow inquisitively. However what really surprised you was when he rose from the railing to stand upright before you.

It dawned on you how tall he truly was. You quickly back peddled. “Unless that’s outside of your element,”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” he confessed sheepishly.

Neither were you, but you didn’t want to put him off. The rest of the conversation felt like it was guided but pure impulse now.

“Well no one had noticed us before when we were inside, so I don’t think anyone would notice us when we’re dancing,”

“And do you usually offer men to dance with you,” he asked. The question was unexpected. You weren’t usually this bold when it came to talking to men, let alone inviting them to dance.

You were more reserved and kept to yourself but tonight you really surprised yourself with your uncharacteristic forwardness. Yet, he was unaware of this side of you and probably assumed you were just here for a good time.

“Not always but since we’re both alone we might as well make the most of the night,” you answered, though you weren’t going to admit that you wanted more than just a dance.

“Fair point, one dance couldn’t hurt,” It was hard to tell where the rest of the night would take you, but at least now you weren’t alone.

And you hoped that he would let you stick around a little longer. He stepped closer to you and held out his hand.

“I still haven't caught your name yet,” you said as you gently took his waiting hand. His large fingers curled around yours in a soft grip.

“Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. And yours?”

This is actually a snippet of one of my ao3 exclusive series

#★— ayrus writes #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderverse miguel

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lulublack90 · 4 months ago

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Prompt 17 - Fee

@jegulus-microfic July 17, Word count 994

Previous part First part

He watched James zooming around the pitch until he stopped, hovering above the pitch watching something. It took Regulus longer than he cared to admit to realise that James was watching him. James swooped down to the ground in a perfect corkscrew. He must have been working on it. He touched down just as Regulus walked onto the grassy pitch.

“Hi,” James greeted him a little breathless as he pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“How long have you been out here?” Regulus asked. James’s hair was sticking up at all angles like it had been a while.

“Oh, er, about half an hour I think,” James said as he checked his watch. “Oh no, more like an hour,” He laughed a strong chuckle which shook his whole body. “I kind of lose track of time when I’m in the air.” Regulus knew exactly what he meant. Time didn’t mean anything when you had the wind in your hair, and you were tearing across the pitch after the golden snitch. “I booked the pitch for a private practice so we shouldn’t be disturbed. I’ve er, I’ve not told Sirius about, you know, our, erm.”

“Date?” Regulus supplied helpfully. “Thank you for not telling my brother it’s none of his business, and I’d like to keep it that way if that’s alright with you,” Regulus didn’t want to give Sirius any new ammunition to use against him. Sirius might not live at Grimmauld Place any longer, but that didn’t mean his actions didn’t get back to their mother. She knew he was in a relationship with Remus Lupin. She’d set fire to the curtains when she’d gotten that bit of news and his father had to quickly put them out before the whole house burned down.

“Right, yeah, thought you’d probably prefer that,” James smiled while running his fingers through his hair. Regulus decided he’d better lighten the mood.

“So, about this private practice you’ve booked, I must inform you that the fee for my tutoring is extortionate, and I have been told I am quite the tyrant when I get going,” Regulus told James seriously. James burst into loud guffaws and ended up dropping his broom. Regulus took advantage of his incapacitation, he snatched up James’s broom and kicked off into the air.

“Oi! Come back with that!” All merriment had left James now as Regulus flew in circles around him.

Regulus was already having more fun than any other date he’d been on, not that he’d been on many and none had been anything more than a walk in the courtyard and then back to the common room. He still didn’t know why he’d said yes and, even more puzzling, why he’d actually come to meet James. Barty had probably spiked his soup or something.

He reached out and poked James in the shoulder as he dared to fly a bit nearer. To his surprise, James’s hand shot out and grabbed the broom handle. He swung Regulus and the broom around and hopped on behind him, folding Regulus forward so he could grasp the broom handle with both hands.

“Like a bit of fun, do you?” James whispered in his ear. Chills shot through Regulus’s body as James took control of the broom, and they flew straight up into the sky.

Higher and higher they climbed until the castle and quidditch pitch looked like toys below them. Then James suddenly changed their trajectory and for a few split seconds they were totally weightless. Regulus lifted off the broom and only James’s arms that were bracketing him and his strong torso kept him from floating away.

Gravity came back with a wallop and Regulus was slammed back onto the broom, thank Merlin for cushioning charms. James leaned further forward, crowding Regulus even more. He’d never been this close to anyone. It felt wonderful. He wiggled back closer to James, basking in the heat radiating from his chest.

James flew them around the pitch, showing off his best moves. He twirled around the goalposts and up through the hoops. Eventually, he slowed and spun them in soft barrel rolls until he just let them glide lazily around the pitch. Regulus didn’t want the date to end, but the sun kept sinking lower and lower into the black lake, and they were forced to land or face the wrath of Madam Hooch if she caught them flying after curfew.

James landed them far more gracefully than Regulus would have given him credit for. They headed into the changing rooms together. Regulus dared to follow James into the Gryffindor one rather than enter the Slytherin changing rooms on his own.

He showered quickly and was almost finished changing into the clean robes he’d brought with him when James opened his cubical door. Regulus’s jaw dropped. James had wrapped a towel low around his waist and was using a smaller hand towel to rub the water from his hair. His rippling muscles glistened with water droplets, Regulus had the sudden urge to lick them from his chest before they could drop to the floor.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” James asked, but Regulus’s brain wasn’t working. He blinked slowly as the words wormed their way in. He nodded.

“Erm, er, yes, yes. Best date I’ve ever been on.” Wait, what did he just say? He flushed. James seemed to like that and leaned in slowly to press a soft kiss onto his reddened cheek.

“Next time, I’ll take you to this fairy ring I found in the forest. When they come out at night it’s beautiful.” Regulus didn’t question how James would get them into the forest at night, just assumed he could.

“You want to go on another date?” Regulus asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly. James knelt down and cradled Regulus’s face in his hands.

“I want as many as you’ll give me,” He murmured, before closing the gap between them and kissing him.

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noctivague · 9 months ago

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PAC: What do you bring to the world?

Today I wanted to make an uplifting personality reading focusing on the positive things you personally bring to the world as well as your strengths and qualities.

I will also finish with an advice on how to share it or share it better with the world, depending on the pile.

Note: I always write down the cards I draw. a "+" indicates that these cards go together; a "/" shows as change of row/question.

Focus on the 4 pictures, pick the one that draws you in the most and go to your pile. It's possible that more than one pile resonates. This is a general reading meant for multiple people so not everything will resonates.

Always open to feedback :)

PILE 1

Cards: The Shadow + the Temple + 9 of Pentacles / The Great Goddess + Truth + Acceptance / Navigating by the Stars: Follow your bliss + Growing Pains

You are someone with a great understanding of the shadowier aspects of the mind, which doesn't only stop to an understanding of your own, but extend to the human psyche as well. You are not only in-tune with what most people don't want to see or accept, which requires courage and resilience, but you are also able to make flowers blossom from the dirt, so to speak.

You are in tune with your inner voice and live in abundance of all the lessons you've learned on your path. I see all these events you've been through and all the effort you've put into learning from them and growing as a human. They are like little pockets of truth you've collected throughout the years, little nuggets of gold that make your soul rich.

You anchor that into reality, making a temple out of what you've learned through pain about yourself and the world, and draw a lot of strength that others can feel without even knowing your past.

It's like, by going through your own personal hell, you've managed to shine bright and light up those around you.

Perhaps some of you are advisors or speaker of some kind who actively help others, and for some of you, it shows up in conversations with people you meet.

And your strengths and qualities reflect that! You are someone who is able to transcend whatever struggle they are going through in order to find some type of divine beauty from it. You can see both good and evil in yourself and in what is around you, and you can see the importance of both ends of the spectrum, letting yourself dance with those cycles and finding harmony in what most see as only chaos.

You also didn't let your heart close from what you've endured and instead gained a lot of empathy for other people's suffering.

You are also someone to whom authenticity is not only important, but a major part of their personality. You despise lying to yourself. Not saying that never happens, but you always end up correcting the trajectory at some point. You have strong core values that you've spent a long time modeling like a beautiful and ever changing work of art, born from your own work. You honor this quality in yourself and you encourage it in others.

You also embody the quality of acceptance. You know being in touch with your shadow means you're going to find things that are ugly, scary or violent, and you've learnt to see that without judging it. You are able to accept and release whatever comes to the surface, surrendering to the flow of life. As a result you are not someone who judges people harshly for their humanly flaws. Again not saying you don't condemn anyone ever, but you understand the shortcomings and the shortsightedness everyone has to deal with, because you went through it so many times yourself.

And as to what you can do to share that better with the world, well, first I feel like most of you are already doing that by just existing, but the advice I got was to listen to your spiritual guidance, whatever that means to you. There is this idea that you are guided on your path and that, perhaps, it is time to not simply look under, but look above. Trust that your effort are seen and that you will be shown the way to make your qualities of use for others beyond what is already happening.

The last card I drew says to keep walking on that self-healing path you are on, which is a life-long process as there are always layers and layers to dig and dig through. And by that I mean that you can go way beyond yourself, into the generational, the mythical. And I think that's the main takeaway. You are a Healer of Yourself, and by doing that, you're also healing others.

I'm still getting that some of you will be able sooner or later to share that wisdom in a more tangible way, perhaps as a writer or a counselor, a speaker or a carer, but, again, you don't need a specific job or activity to share your gifts because they radiate from you and can be received by the people in you touch in your daily life.

That it's for Pile 1! I just wanted to say that your energy is awesome and I feel very touched!! I wish you good luck on your path and I'm sending you a lot of love.

PILE 2

Cards: The Medallion + The Hunter + Ace of Wands / The Mystic + Spirit of the Tree + Magic / The One + The Shaman + Rebirth

As for what you embody in what you bring to the world, I see you someone who heavily involved with magic and/or the spiritual realms. Like, heads up but, I'm actually a bit floored because it is powerful but I'm not surprised knowing the type of people who follow me.

So yeah, the magical and the spiritual. But more precisely, you are upholding traditions from the past, working with something you've inherited (not necessarily by blood although it may be the case for some of you) from those who came before you. By practicing and taking action with these practices, you are keeping them alive, honoring them, and even perhaps working on transmitting them to those who will follow.

I see you one some type of mission (in an humble way) as in, you're focused on your path and moving fast toward that shining light you sense in the distance, like a glowing target that pushes you forward whether you are fully aware of what it is exactly or not. You are answering some type of call.

As for your strengths and qualities, you are someone who is really in tune with your dreams, and beyond that, the other realms. You feel the pulsation of both life and death in all things, can read the signs the world sends you, and can peek behind the veil. You may be a mystic, a seer, or a medium, or have strong affinities for this.

You are also no stranger to the mysteries of Nature and are able to gather knowledge from what is so different and alien from you. Again there is an idea of ancient wisdom that you are tapping into powerfully. It comes naturally to you because it's part of who you are. You are able to step back from the noise of the modern world to touch the wisdom that lies beneath the busy surface of the world. Most people don't even know it's here, but it is, and you see it.

Again, there is this idea that you see beyond human knowledge, and you are able to remember it because somehow, you understand that, and even though it is strange and alien, it's part of us, too.

You are also able to cultivate your own magic. You understand that you can't just receive without doing the work on yourself and cultivating your own power. You are not an empty vessel but a being full of stars in your own right. I have this image of someone who one day opened their eyes and saw the sunrise seemingly for the first time. As if those eyes themselves where born anew. You are able to dance between earth and the sky, embracing transformation and initiation.

As for the advice you received on sharing your strengths with the world, I was sort of expecting it but it's not so much about really sharing your knowledge with the world rather than being your own individual on your path and doing the things that are required by it. Idk if that makes sense it's quite abstract to understand so bear with me.

I got the Shaman. As you probably know it's a word that is mostly wrongly used and that can mean a bunch of things, like healer, sorcerer, oracle, warden of Nature, medium, spiritual advisor or religious leader. What I'm getting is that it's going to vary for all of you depending on the path you are on, but one thing is for sure, you are a very important link between the other-world and the human world and you can serve your community.

Perhaps because you can/will/are meant to embrace one of the roles I just mentioned, or because you are doing some type of work for the other-realms, again it will vary greatly depending on the person.

There is an inherent loneliness to this path. You may feel othered, marginalized, even crazy at times, because you exist in some type of hazy in-between, with one foot in our world and one foot in the Other.

The advice is to learn to accept and lean into that, and understand that you are not as alone as you think you are, even to your fellow humans.

We are all one, in some way. Made of so many buried facets, so many fallen stars. What you are experiencing is present in all of us, you are just able to anchor it in this world, which is not only important in and of itself, but also helps people around you help themselves, is what I'm getting.

As a final advice, because I felt like drawing one last card, I got Rebirth.

I'm going to keep this super open because this pile is made of various people, but there is something that needs to be reborn within you. Some type of transformation you need to go through to go further. You will need to leave something behind. Know that what you are right now is meant to shed and change because there is so much more to learn. Lean into what you know to see the next step, but be open to the unknown and its gifts.

That's it for this reading, very different from Pile 1 but I'm equally floored and a bit spooked because it was super powerful! Thank you for reading me, I hope this was useful to you and I send you a lot of love and wish you good luck on your journey!

PILE 3

Cards: 4 of Swords Rx + 10 of Pentacles + The Pilgrim + The Castle + The Threshold / 5 of Cups Rx + 8 of Wands Rx + Space, Time and Self + The Gifted Guide / Overwhelmed + Sorrow + the Moon (oracle) + Queen of Swords + 7 of Pentacles + The Forbidden Forest Rx

Driven is the most important word I'm getting from this reading.

It seems you are a builder and a pioneer of sorts, someone with the power to materialize your goals into the material plane, with the potential to establish long term material wealth and stable structures in the world. I'm also getting the word legacy, it's something that's important to you and you wish to accomplish in this lifetime. You might be an entrepreneur of some sorts or work in an area of Sciences, so legacy could be either about a business or wealth or advancing human knowledge in some way shape or form.

You don't sit around and wait, your are someone who don't remain stagnant but is always rising above and beyond to work towards your goals. You understand that your goals won't materialize without effort and you are committed to the task.

The way you go about life is focused on outside achievements, but that's the way you grow inside as well. The world is your laboratory where you explore ideas and see what can be birthed into the world.

You are someone who is not afraid to step into the unknown, to go towards uncharted territory, where others don't dare to go. It may seem like a lonely path for some, but for you, it is immensely fulfilling and is how you free yourself. You have your eyes set on the top of the mountain and nothing will stop you from reaching it.

You have no regard for the concept of fate and wish to keep your destiny into your own hands.

Your strengths and qualities are that you are aware of your faults and failures, of what you've lost in the past, and have learnt that no matter the setbacks, a new opportunity or idea can always arise and you can learn from your mistakes. You are full of energy and desire to move forward in a sort of restless way. It's like your burning with the energy of your will and the only way to master that fire is to remain as active as possible. Where others would have given up, you keep pushing, even if it hurts.

There is a strong message about knowing you are guided but not in a spiritual sense, and for two reasons:

One, you have trust in your own instinct and are guided by your interests and what pulls you in. You go with the flow and are able to follow effortlessly the dance of the cosmos, flowing from one cycle to the next, understanding that sometimes things can take more or less time (the idea of timing to be respected), or that you can zoom in and out your perspective on things (sometimes you need to see the big picture but sometimes you need to look into the details).

Second, you also understand the parts of unknown of your path, you don't feel like you need everything figured out and have trust that things will unveil when they need to. You listen to your environment and see patterns in the chaos that remain invisible to others and that's what guide your steps.

The advice on how to bring that more effectively into the world is pointing back to the reversed 5 of Cups and 8 of Wands, with Overwhelmed and Sorrow. It's very interesting because your strengths and quality are also sometimes reverted and things you struggle with, which is normal since we all have bad days and the very things that makes us ourselves can be our most violent pains.

In your low points, you have a tendency to bottle up your feelings, so focused that you are on your tasks, you ignore them until they spill. You don't really know how to handle your emotions and wait until they explode in your face to confront and feel them. It leaves you feeling lost and frustrated.

You have a highly individualistic mindset, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but in excess it makes you too tyrannical toward yourself. You may feel alone against the world at times, a lone star in a black sky, because you are so cut off from receptivity and external guidance.

Don't discard the parts of you that feel alien and strange as they have much to teach you. It's okay to stop for a moment on your path, you don't have to rush all the time. You need to be patient with your goals, like a gardener watching them grow in their own time. You can't go against the rhythms of Nature and the Universe, some things take time, and that include respecting your own rhythms.

You need to learn to set up boundaries within yourself. It can be hard to feel when you're going overboard so you need to carve out some time to deal with your inner struggles and let yourself time to rest. Perhaps these low points have a lot to do with exhaustion and lack of mental and emotional space, so be mindful of that and keep some time for nurturing yourself, not just your goals.

That's it for Pile 3! I hope this was useful to you and brought you interesting messages. I wish you good luck on your path.

PILE 4

Cards: The Orphan + The Animal + 3 of Swords Rx + Ace of Wands Rx + Bottled Up + Gloom / The Mirror + Energy + Space, Time and Self + Dark Night of the Soul / 9 of Pentacles Rx + The Empress + Gratitude + Let Go + Yin and Yang + Truth

You are someone who came into this world full of childlike wonder but something broke, making you carry a deep wound. May be mental or physical trauma, an accident or a disability. As a result, you gained a ferocious thirst for life, a wild energy, similar to the primal instinct of survival. It was either giving up or pushing through, life or death.

It seems your ability to act in this world got restrained and that you had to learn your way around that. Like your potential was bottled up which made you think that all was over. Complete loss of hope. You felt cut off from the world, cut off from life and society. Rendered unable to connect with the bustling world. It seemed like it wasn't a choice you wanted to make but had to.

When I started drawing your cards for strengths and qualities, I felt an immense wave of fatigue washing over me, and one of the cards I drew was about calling back your energy. So I think you are very well aware of your limitations and you had to learn to live with that, manage your limited resources to make something blossom regardless. If you're not already aware of it, it's something you're currently learning.

I feel called to describe the energy card to you: a woman is sitting in a back full of stars, from her left palm flow a stream of water filled with stars with a flower blossoming from it and her whole body. I really think that whatever you went through and are still dealing with, despite limiting you in some ways, cannot stop you from bringing something beautiful to the world. It will feed from your very pains, like flowers feeding off dirt. There is so much potential for Life and growth.

Also, you had to learn to reflect on yourself a lot and that brought you a admirable understanding of the human nature, a precious wisdom that could not have been yours had you not have the life you had. It sucks to write because fuck that, I'm angry with you and I don't get why it has to be that way sometimes for some people, but it's true. I'm also getting that some of you are writers or have a great ability to spell out your thoughts. Really, this wisdom you gained through pain gave you a greater understanding of life, one that most people cannot touch, and that can be a great treasure to share with the world.

You have a strong ability to bring a deeper understanding of the human experience to others, transcending the mundane to allow them to touch what is meaningful and precious about life, understanding themselves and the world more. From the simple moments to the greatest revenge taken against fate.

By experiencing extreme loss, you found hope and a desire to survive and overcome, and are able to share it with others. This card also has a book in it so idk if you're a writer or not but you should definitely consider it if that's not the case. I think you have a lot to share with the world which could help others. Your words are worthier than gold, because you know how hard it is to face monstrous events but you know that it's worth pushing through. We all face difficult times in our lives, some more than others, but it's not about who suffered the most, and you understand that. You can really make a difference, pile 4. Light the way for others with your words.

The advice cards are really beautiful and supporting.

I see you being encouraged to learn to find balance within yourself and aiming for success and abundance. Because you can and you will be able to bring gifts to this world. You heart is a fertile soil, and it is so strong. From dead matters, pain and wastes, we can sow seeds and harvest golden crops, feeding many. You can embody that.

Really, you can be a beacon of light to other, crowned in stars, adorned with roses. You need to let yourself hope a little further. Don't settle for the bare minimum, let go of your regrets and pessimistic mindset. You have so much to offer. Find beauty, love and pleasure in your everyday life. It might only be in some specific moments but it is still so important and will help you live with more ease. Find bliss hiding between the folds of time.

You also got a strong message about gratitude. It can be easy to look down on this word, thinking it's a way to keep yourself in your enclosure and not thrive for more, but in reality, it's very empowering. By being grateful for your gifts, you are actually recognizing them, learning to trust and value them, which will in turn give you the confidence to share it with the world. The wise know that there is so much power and grace in having a grateful mindset, it doesn't stop you in your tracks, on the contrary, it calls even more blessings in.

You hold both life and death, pain and pleasure, despair and hope within yourself. It's time to embrace it and learn that life is not one or the other but a balance of both. You have been tilting over one side too much and it's time to rectify the scale. The advice is to find power in an unexpected place within you. Something you have overlooked. Something that feels uncomfortable. Ask yourself what you are resisting. You will find great creative energy as a result of that inner work. It will bring you growth.

The final card is called Truth and is also connected to the Empress, which you got earlier. The words on the card are: " That which is true will always be enough". You had to learn some truth the hard way, don't discard it because you are afraid or in pain. Hold it tight. Honor your truth. Again you get a message of gratitude and abundance. You are on a path to wisdom and you will gain a lot from it. By liberating yourself, you will also free others. Don't be scared to share what you've learnt and will learn with integrity. You soul is so beautiful.

That's it for pile 4. I hope it was an useful reading. It definitely was insightful for me. I wish you good luck on your path and I give you a big hug!!

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarot reading #pac #pick a picture

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variousqueerthings · 1 year ago

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thing about rose, for me, is that she wasn't there first -- this in a "she was first in nu!who in the sense that this was the first person to travel with nine, and the first person since the timewar, and the last person that nine was with, to the point that ten was born out of that experience/modelled on her."

and in that framing, I am a big fan of her haunting of the narrative, because it start outs with her placing herself inside the doctor's ribcage and rebooting their ability to want to feel things, but unfortunately rose is still a human, like every human the doctor travelled with before, it's just that the doctor forgot how to steel themself against that inevitability because of the circumstances around meeting rose

this is The thing that I find tragic about martha, because I think she could have been that person, if she'd been the first person post-timewar to travel with the doctor, but because she's coming in during bleeding-heart times, she's got to deal with triage instead. and yes, there are wonders, and yes, there are good times, but for a lot of it, it's shrapnel, and I think if it hadn't been, she would have had a very different attitude towards *waves hands* space and time travel and aliens and the universe (one where she wouldn't be the person trusted with something like the osterhagen key)

and donna had a sense of that Space the doctor was in post-rose (she canonically stopped the doctor from dying in runaway bride) and stepped away from it, and didn't get back to the doctor until some of that hole-in-chest had been bandaged up, which martha did a great job of, but didn't get to really benefit from, and I think that's the sad thing about martha jones, is that she absolutely got a taste of the beauty and the splendor, but never without all the violence and heave weight that was put onto her

which, again, she seems to have been very aware of, considering she joined UNIT and Torchwood. her eyes were barely ever rose tinted (no pun here) during her whole journey in the story. martha really is in my opinion the most tragic companion (that I've met so far, I know Adric straight up dies, but maybe he had some fun times before that?), because yes, donna loses her memories and rose is in a parallel universe, but that's more tragic for the doctor -- they've both built lives

in donna's case there's probably a lot of imperfection in that life, but clearly a lot of joy as well, with her and her husband and her kid and her mum, and I'm sure she'd have preferred to be the donna who saw the universe and was splendid, but martha never gets to forget, and has to continue her life one step out of sync of everything she could have been

which, maybe her life is pretty flipping fantastic, but we really don't know, which is the biggest thing I side-eye about the first nu!who era. that whole weird ending with the sontaran and mickey is like... anti-character work, it answers nothing and it makes very little sense

all I know about her at the end is that she more than anyone saw the doctor's life and became a soldier (still a doctor as well, but...) because that was the work she saw needed doing, and she's the kind of person who does what needs doing. but is she... okay? youknow?

but going back to the original point, is that framing martha through the lens of rose is all well and good in the sense that rose is the reason the doctor is at that emotional point when he meets martha -- although donna absolutely had a very big hand in that as well -- but once we've established that, martha's arc is martha's arc, and it's dull to me to frame it as the "rebound" arc or even particularly about alloromanticism (including -- and this is why i get why people do it in fandom -- some shit said by rtd, which is just less interesting than what I get out of it, so shhhh)

she's got so much going on, and her relationship with the doctor changes the trajectory of her life, and it's in many ways a more interesting and far less straightforward trajectory of bad-to-better that many companions get -- it's a wonderfully complicated narrative that (and again, I get that some of this comes from within deliberate framings of the text, even though I think it's more than open enough to do more with, death of the author and all that -- but certainly not all of this is text either, some of it is ignoring what is actually there) is done a disservice by not going through the real messed up fascinating extraordinary shit that's going on during her era + arc in s4

but also... is she ok? I want to know. it's one of my top three burning questions, since we're getting a bit of best-ofs of the noughties DW era, some of your crimes can be righted by a simple bit of martha mr davies

#me wanting to see martha in the 60th just to confirm she's doing okay #pls 🥺👉👈#tbh im sure freema is doing Stuff but she shoulda been in at least one UNIT episode in m*ffat or chibnall era #martha jones #doctor who #dw #doctor who meta #this is very rambly #i think for example martha in sontaran stratagem is severely underrated because she gets captured and has to be saved #(she does stuff as well but also the above)#but it's a role reversal between her and the doctor in s3! she's constantly saving the doctor in s3 she's constantly saying I've got you #and in that episode the doctor saves her and says it back!#arghhhhh someone hold martha for me my love who always has to be so strong

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lunar-beauty · 10 months ago

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s1 stancy + interview quotes

Joe Keery: “In the first season, it's this love sick thing—they’re both in the throes of beginning this relationship.” — Glamour

Joe Keery: “Meeting Nancy and pursuing her at the beginning of Season 1 is sort of this catalyst for massive change in this kid’s life. He truly falls in love for the first time.” — Entertainment Weekly

Natalia Dyer: “It’s really hard to imagine where things would have gone for Nancy had Steve not been such a complex character in her story. In their story. That I think would’ve changed the course of things quite a bit.” — Video

Joe Keery: “Looking back now, it’s like he lived his life a certain way prior to meeting Nancy. Sometimes you meet people in your life that change the trajectory of the things that you think are important.” — Stranger Things: Worlds Turned Upside Down

Joe Keery: “He likes her because she’s different from everyone else, especially other significant others he’s had in his life. In that scene in the bedroom in the beginning, he talks about how she’s not like the other girls. The Duffers and I talked about what kind of family life he comes from and maybe this girl, Nancy, is quiet and listens in a way that other people haven’t listened to him at this point. Makes him feel a little bit more comfortable revealing a sensitive side, and I think that’s an attractive quality that she has and he admires in her.” — WSJ

Natalia Dyer: “At first it didn't seem like the obvious choice [Nancy choosing Steve in the S1 finale]. You know, I respect that, but you don't want to do the opposite just to do the opposite. The [Duffer] brothers talked to us about it and it really just makes the most sense, if you think about it. I know everyone is really shipping Nancy and Jon—Jancy, I guess, is the word—but the whole thing takes place over a couple days. For Nancy to end up with somebody that she just met, even though she has a boyfriend who really does care about her, just didn't quite make sense. I think it ended the most logically, for sure.” — Harper's Bazaar

Matt Duffer: “It felt like in a movie world she winds up with Jonathan, who is seemingly the nicer kinder gentler guy. But it felt almost more real to us that she would wind up back with Steve, this heartthrob who she’s had a crush on for a long time. It’s surprising, but it felt more honest.” — Variety

Joe Keery: “Nobody thinks of themselves as the villain, they think of themselves as the hero. That was my justification for some of the stuff Steve does. From his end, a lot of the stuff Jonathan does is super creepy and weird. He’s protecting this girl he’s really in love with.” — WSJ

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #st cast #joe keery #natalia dyer #stancy + interview quotes #stancy #my posts #posts: st

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skellymom · 1 month ago

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"Vagabonds" Chapter 24 & 25

"SEPARATION" & "THE NIGHTMARE"

Ongoing fanfic Hunter x Reader/Fem Reader/OC

Hunter meets a smuggler Nomaadi Star Woman with a powerful force sensitive teen who changes the trajectory of CF-99's lives...as they ALL try to escape from The Empire together.

To read Chapter 23 - "RETREAT"

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/763930279133970432/vagabonds-chapter-23?source=share

Word Count: 3.9K (Sorry so long. Wasn't sure WHERE to end this chapter, so I posted TWO CHAPTERS! I am hoping to wrap this series up by the end of this year!!!)

Background: What plans do The Empire have with LOVE? We meet several more NEW supporting characters. And Hunter has a helluva nightmare!

For anyone new to this series: "LOVE" is the nonbinary/genderfluid neurodivergent/nonverbal Force sensitive kid of the main OC of this series named Mad. Mad is an older single mother, close to almost 50 years of age (not many older female protaganists in stories, so I decided to make one.)

Warning: SW Canon violence, some blood, swearing, angst.

(Credit: Cool dividers by @4ngelic-Wh1spers, @plum98 @strangergraphics-archive Pinterest: Bad l3atch, f/StarWarsJediSurvivor)

He stunned the little shit, but REALLY wanted to kill her outright. He HATED this dog with every fiber of his being.

CX swore as he carefully pulled off his ruined faceplate. Blood poured from the toothmarks and sharp edges of the destroyed plastoid. Then dropped it to the floor.

An animal of that size SHOULD’NT be able to bite through his armor. And she SOMEHOW managed to hide or cloak herself within the confines of his ship easily. Her mastery of stealth, ferocity of attack, along with her bite strength might be beneficial to breed into a new class of working dogs for the Empire. Dr Hemlock might be pleased to have such a specimen to experiment with.

And, if the doctor didn’t feel the need to use her, he could destroy her himself.

CX applied pressure to the facial wounds with his bacta bandaged left hand that had been mauled. He hailed his contact with his still intact right hand.

Governor Tarkin’s likeness popped up on holocomm.

“Did you capture the Force sensitive?” Tarkin sniffed.

“Yes. Aboard my ship and restrained successfully. We are enroute.”

“Good. With this asset our timetable for PROJECT STARDUST is AHEAD of schedule.” Tarkin seemed pleased. “We will expect your arrival within one standard rotation.”

The Governer's image immediately disappeared.

CX would contact Dr Hemlock about the dog later.

LOVE awoke both hands tethered together and a collar around their neck. They cautiously glanced up where they lay on the floor.

Tiggy lay prone and unconscious nearby. One of her back legs dangled at an odd angle. Clearly, she was injured. LOVE reached out to her with the Force.

Nothing.

LOVE was unable to feel...anything. They couldn’t levitate, either. And, unable to Force Manipulate physical objects.

The fisticuffs binding their hands, looked different from anything LOVE had seen before.

The CX Trooper in the pilot’s seat faced away from love, busily dabbing bacta on his facial wounds.

“You can TRY. The restraints were specifically designed for a Force Sensitive such as yourself.”

He didn’t glance up from his wound care.

LOVE reached out again.

NOTHING. No Force powers at all.

However, LOVE could still physically move their body.

CX swung around in his chair. He raised his left hand and motioned to his face.

“Your...pet is responsible for this!”

LOVE’s eyes widened with the realization Tiggy was the culprit...smiling deviously at the Trooper.

He snarled back at LOVE and swung his chair back around to face the pilot’s console.

“You think this is a JOKE? If you resist in ANY way or refuse to do what I say, I will shoot your pet dead and blow her body out the airlock.”

He calmly fitted a new glove carefully over his bandaged hand.

LOVE laid their head down on the metal floor and whimpered pathetically.

It was quite the vision: Taavi’s Bar’ge Fix ‘N Go was an immense, rough looking, refurbished old barge freighter, including a multitude of modifications lit with neon. Blocking out the stars as it slowly sailed past. According to Sil, it served as a docking station, mechanical repair, hotel, cafeteria, bar...

...and an illegal and VERY secretive “treat and street it” clinic.

Uncle Taavi always came up with several streams of income. His major one being a repair service for ships, droids, devices, and prosthetics. He also rescued feral Tooka cats, spayed, neutered, providing them medical treatment and care.

Taavi NEVER stopped fixing things. Fixing things was HIS LIFE.

The Marauder was able to pull the still barely operational Beldame from the hyperspace lane, then detach from its top. Echo and Wrecker piloted the Havoc Marauder while Hunter and Sil slowly followed behind piloting the Dread Beldame. Tech and Omega sat with Mad on the ‘Dame making sure she stayed medically stable. Omega also kept her eyes glued on Hunter. He INSISTED on helping pilot the Beldame...knife STILL buried in his thigh. She twirled her fingers in Mad’s long mohawk tail with one hand and held Mad’s hand with the other.

Omega ALSO worried about LOVE and Tiggy while listening to Mad’s ragged breaths.

Mad didn’t know LOVE and Tig wasn’t with them. She anticipated the fear and heartbreak a mother would experience when she found out...

Tech did his best to TRY and distract her by infodumping...to no avail.

With help of the Bar’ge ‘N Go’s tractor beam, it pulled in the hulking mass of the Dread Beldame into the landing bay of the barge. The Batch marveled at the repair bay. Taavi seemed to have EVERYTHING to fix ANY kind of ship, arranged neatly and cleanly. True the equipment was much older but well-made and maintained expertly. Odd looking, refurbished droids zoomed and whizzed back and forth inside it’s mechanical bay.

After both ships landed. Their respective crews emerged...to greet the man who owned this establishment: Mad’s Uncle Taavi.

He was as tall as Echo with shaggy black hair, dark skinned, his face heavily tattooed with symbols and designs. His eyes, pitch-black silver speckled irises, indicative of the OLD Nomaadi. A subset of their people older than time...before the Long Purge of their numbers....and one of the reasons the Nomaadi were referred to as “The Star People.” His patchworked but well-fitting clothing indicative of a Nomaadi with deep family ties...the pieces of snipped fabric from family and friends sewn as embellishment on his clothing. A tapestry of memories and strength of family ties to accompany him on his Long Road: The Journey of Life. Heavy and well-worn work boots completed the outfit.

A small statured...child? Walked next to Taavi with the confidence of an adult. Her unmelanted hair braided into many long, tiny braids that trailed past her shoulders. Her eyes: Either blue or ultraviolet, depending on the light. Blue veins occasionally showing through her pale albino skin.

Finally, a standard Astromech adorned in rose gold detailing, a yellow light on her dome. She was a spiffy droid to behold. Of course...she knew it... Behind the astromech followed several tiny droids, and two Tooka kittens chasing after them.

Taavi stopped. His eyes wide in surprise.

“Sil? As I breathe the stale recirculated shitty air of this ship...never thought I’d see ya AGAIN!!!”

He grabbed Sil up and hugged the teen. Sil hugged Taavi back.

When Taavi let go, he wiped a tear from his eye.

Sil leaned out, grabbing Thoomie and pulling her into the hug as well. She embraced Sil.

Then Taavi caught sight of Mad being carried in Hunter’s arms. She was covered in dirt and crusted blood from multiple wounds. Her breathing loud, harsh, and labored. She was barely conscious.

“Ohhh FORCE NOOO! We gotta get her into the bacta tank! COME WITH ME!!!” Taavi didn’t ask for introductions. He ushered them through the ship and into a secret wing that contained a large medical lab.

Taavi motioned to Hunter “Put ‘er in there. We’ll clean her in that tub first, then put ‘er in the tank.”

Hunter carefully placed Mad into the stainless steel tub. Then stood over her and stared silently. He seemed mentally far away...

“Uncle...” Thoomie tapped Taavi on the arm. “I think he’s in a state of shock.”

Taavi did a double take at Hunter, pointing “Son...ya got a knife stickin’ out of ya there...”

Hunter calmly glanced down at the knife and back at Taavi “Yes...”

“Thoo, take...whatshisname...” Taavi nodded to Hunter.

“Hunter” Hunter answered.

“Hunter and that smart lookin’ fella...” Taavi nodded at Tech.

“I’m Tech.” Tech added smugly.

“With Tech and that droid guy” Taavi referred to Echo.

Echo didn’t answer, just shook his head grimacing.

Tech answered for Echo “Uh, that is Echo.”

“Sure.” Taavi waved them on. “Have ‘em help you prep Hunter for surgery. Can’t be walkin’ around MY ship with a knife stickin’ outta ya like nothin’s happenin.” Taavi shook his head. “Mad sure can pick ‘em...”

“Come with me” Thoomie took Hunter’s hand and led him, Tech, and Echo away.

“Sil, stay with me. You can catch me up while we work on your Auntie.” Then Taavi addressed Wrecker. “Eh, big guy...Help me clean up Mad so we can plop ‘er in that bacta tank.”

“Uh...ok.” Wrecker seemed confused about what was happening.

Taavi recognized Wrecker’s confusion. “You wanna get free care, ya gotta pitch in and help. Droids will finish after we start, ok? Besides, Mad will pitch a fit if we let them droids touch her.”

Wrecker hesitated.

Sil nodded to him and patted his back. “You got this Wrecker. Uncle Taavi will walk ya through it.”

Wrecker nodded and did as he was told.

CHAPTER 25 - "THE NIGHTMARE"

Thoomie handed Echo a surgical gown and bag for Hunter’s clothes. She then handed a tub of Bacta wipes to Tech. She instructed Hunter to sit down.

She pulled a syringe out of a drawer, then a drug bottle from a wall unit, and began drawing up a dose. Thoomie approached Hunter.

Echo and Tech glanced alarmingly at each other. Tech stepped in her way “Is it standard protocol on this ship to have CHILDREN give injectable medication?”

Thoomie laughed. “Forgot you’re new here. I’m NOT a child.”

Echo and Tech glanced at each other again...now in confusion.

“I have a rare genetic disorder that inhibits my normal growth and development. Will FOREVER look like a preteen or teenager...for the rest of my life.”

Both clones stared at Thoomie stunned.

“You’re defective???” Tech blurted out.

Thoomie winced “Er...you COULD say that. I prefer the term different...or unique. PLEASE step aside and let me treat your batchmates' pain. His condition is worsening, and I need to remove that knife as soon as possible.”

Tech stepped back.

“How did you know we’re clones?” Echo asked as Thoomie swabbed Hunter’s arm with a bacta wipe and injected into his vein. Hunter winced slightly and came out of his glazed state to attempt to rub the area. Thoomie handed him a square of sterile gauze and gently placed his hand over the area like a parent would a child. Hunter kept quiet and held pressure on the injection site.

“The timbre of your voices. Subtle similarities in your facial features. Other...tells in your mannerisms. Hard to explain.” She tossed the syringe in a sharp's container.

“What would you require of us to assist you in helping Hunter.” Tech spoke up.

“I’ll let you both undress him completely, throw the clothes in the bag, then wipe him down all over. Don’t worry about his hair. Put the gown on with the opening in the front. Please drape several FRESH bacta wipe over his private parts for cleanliness and discretion. Knock on the partition when you’re done. I can then prep him for surgical removal of that vibroknife.”

Then she handed a pair of medical scissors to Tech. “Imagine you will need these to get his blacks off without further injury. We have extra clothing on board if this is his only pair of pants. Please be quick. Thank you.” She promptly left the room.

Tech pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose “The Nomaadi NEVER cease to amaze me.”

Echo put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder to get his attention. He could tell the pain meds were starting to to work. “Let’s get you ready, ok?”

Hunter nodded sleepily...as he closed his eyes...drifting into the dark...

They had come for him and his brothers AGAIN.

Hunter wedged himself under the small gap beneath his lower bunk, pressing his back against the wall of their barracks. He managed to pull Crosshair halfway under. Only little Hunter and his skinny younger brother could manage to fit.

Crosshairs fear was palpable as he scrambled to squeeze in with Hunter. Tech rigged the mechanics of their bunk room door so it could only open from the INSIDE. He hid behind the already large Wrecker who stood tall and RAGEFULLY angry, fists clenched and ready for a good fight.

They were ONLY children.

The Kaminoan’s and their clinical assistants routinely carried out medical experiments on them. They rebelled against the pain, shame, and inappropriately probing hands that explored their bodies.

This was NOT the first time the Bad Batchers had resisted.

The Kamino medical staff learned the hard way several times to bar access to ANY sharp objects or ANYTHING at all that could be used as a weapon. This left the Batchers room barren of any toys or enrichment. Only to be let out for training and mess hall meals. When it was found the defective clones had smuggled in an occasional training weapon or a table utensil from the mess hall, they were routinely patted down, scanned, and accompanied by the staff themselves.

As the Batchers anger and resentment peaked, along with their accelerated growth, strength, and strategy, fully trained teenage Reg clones were called in to perform this duty.

Some of these Regs sustained severe injuries, thus creating MORE resentment already present among the “Defective” Clones and the Regs. This rivalry came to a head when Hunter’s nose was broken during a particularly violent scuffle and Tech was knocked unconscious, almost compromising his advanced mental capacity. Wrecker and Crosshair’s retaliation was immediate and SEVERE. One of the Regs barely survived HIS injuries.

From that time on the Kaminoan’s ONLY sent in the most hardened adult clone troopers in armor to retrieve them. Lama Su considered “discontinuing” their squad due to the inconvenience. But Nala Se convinced him this sharpened their skills and made them more “elite.”

Clearly, the child Batchers were no match for these new adversaries.

Wrecker didn’t give a damn. As the door was finally breached and the clone troopers spilled in he rushed them. His screams of rage sounded familiar to Hunter...

...like an angry dog.

Tech begged for leniency as he was dragged away, promising to be compliant from now on...

Hunter held tight to Crosshair...

...who was yanked from his grasp and pulled out from under the bunk.

Hunter attempted to call out to his brother but could make NO sound.

“OW! LITTLE FUCKER BIT ME!!!” As Crosshair was dropped face down on the hard white glossy floor. Blood splattered across the polished tiles from Cross’ split lip.

Crosshair pulled his face from the floor, yelling Hunter’s name...

...it wasn't Crosshair’s face, but Jebith Freed.

A green armored CX trooper grabbed the boy’s leg, dragging him away while he trailed bloody purple rose petals in his wake...SCREAMING Hunter’s name over and over...as the bunk room melted into an alien forest...

Lightning struck the ground. Torrential rain fell in thick sheets.

Hunter, terrified watched from under his bunk as the ground gave way swallowing both the boy and trooper up.

The wall behind Hunter groaned, buckled...muddy water spilled through cracks. He attempted to scrabble away, but the remaining wall of the bunk room collapsed around him. A wave of muddy water and debris enveloped Hunter....

...dragging him down into the darkness...

Hunter awoke with a START.

"You’re safe, Hunter. I’m here.” Omega’s voice.

Her face came into view.

He felt fuzzy around the edges of his consciousness. Hunter had gotten enough injuries in the past to recognize recovery from sedated anesthesia.

“You’re not on Kamino anymore. We’re on a Nomaadi sanctuary barge.”

Omega held Hunter’s hand tightly as the realization set in.

“How...did you know?”

“I remember EVERYTHING you ALL went through on Kamino.” Omega’s voice trembled “Until Shaak Ti found out and intervened...instead of the Reg troopers, they began sending ME to help gain your trust.” Her face conveyed deep sadness. “When you all finally complied, I was not allowed around your squad...again.”

“How come I don’t remember?” Hunter rubbed his forehead.

“It was traumatic. You shut it out. The memories are still in there...they come out in your dreams.”

“...nightmare...definitely NOT a dream.” Hunter swallowed. He was overcome with emotion from the effects of the anesthesia. His eyes welled up.

“SO glad to have you ‘Mega. I LOVE YOU.” He choked. Hunter felt this MANY times but never vocalized it.

Omega threw herself onto Hunter, hugging his neck tightly. “I LOVE YOU TOO HUNTER! I was so scared of losing you!!!”

“Take the whole galaxy to hold me back from you, ‘Mega. Sorry I had to leave you on this mission...” He hitched as he inhaled. A tear ran down his cheek. And Hunter squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “If I hadn’t left you behind this time, probably never see you again...”

He opened his eyes to see Wrecker and Echo approaching his bedside. He could see the relief in their eyes.

But Hunter’s post anesthetic daze wasn’t done...

“I failed...” He mumbled to them. “Lost LOVE, and somehow Tiggy...Jebith...this kid on that planet we ran into...”

“Hunter...” Echo squeezed Hunters shoulder reassuringly. “You couldn’t...”

“NO...should have had you and Wrecker along with us...”

Wrecker looked concerned over his brother’s uncharacteristically strong emotional outburst.

“It was HORRIBLE! Like losing Caleb Dume all over again!!!” Hunter worked himself up. “I FAILED CROSSHAIR TOO! HE WAS RIGHT...I’M NOT FIT TO LEAD...” More tears. “...NOT FIT TO BE A BROTHER...OR A FATHER...”

“Now, now” Echo patted Hunter’s shoulder. His normally gruff voice softer. “That’s SOME kind of anesthesia he comin’ out of!”

“Perfectly normal range of surgical recovery behavior” The old Med Droid, who had been washing Hunter’s muddy hair prior to him awakening, handed a tissue to Hunter. “Deeply held thoughts and feelings do tend to surface when the patient awakens. Wipe your eyes, friend. We must get some sustenance into you soon. It will help you heal”

“Thank you, Rusty” Omega took the tissue from the droid and dabbed at Hunter’s face. “PLEASE don’t cry Hunter. You did what you could.”

Hunter sniffed and steadied his breathing.

Wrecker leaned over and carefully hugged Hunter, then kissed him on the temple. “Hey...let the Droid finish ‘yer hair.”

“Yeah, you look like a wet mess.” Echo joked.

Hunter took the tissue from Omega and blew his nose. “Yeah...a total mess...” He started to come out of the anesthesia a bit more. “Apologies”

“None needed.” Echo smiled.

Omega held Hunters hand, patting it.

Rusty conditioned and rinsed his hair again, then dried it fully. Hunter reached up to run his fingers through his hair. SO SOFT!

He mildly panicked at the absence of his bandana.

“No worries, friend. All of your clothing has been taken to the laundry. We will return it to you soon, clean and pressed!”

The droid wizzed around to Hunter’s bedside. “Don’t YOU look HANDSOME! Now your family will take you to see your lady.”

Hunter attempted to pull back the blankets and get off the hover stretcher.

“NO Hunter!” Echo pushed Hunter back down on the stretcher. “Gotta lie still, or you’ll pull out your sutures.”

Wrecker chuckled “And you’re only wearing that blanket. Nothin’ else.”

“Oh!” Hunter blushed and chuckled, now in better spirits but still feeling the effects of the drugs.

“Relax and your family will take care of the rest.” Rusty waved goodbye as Echo wheeled Hunter down the corridor. Omega and Wrecker waved back following behind.

They wheeled Hunter into an adjacent room containing several bacta tanks. Sil leaned against the tank, waiting for Mad to awaken. Omega ran to him, and they embraced each other. Tech infodumped animatedly with a 2-1B med droid named “Bucket.” But paused when he spotted Hunter.

“You appear to be recovering quite well.” He smiled brightly. “I am extremely pleased, Hunter.”

“That’s...SO affectionate of you, Tech.” Hunter chuckled, then turned to Taavi and Thoomie. “How is Mad? Are the babies...”

Thoomie answered “She’s just recovering from anesthesia. The babies are EXTREMELY healthy...and STILL growing! Never seen anything like it!!! I am concerned about Mad, though. She’s been through A LOT physically.”

“She’ll REQUIRE quite a lot of rest and nutrition. The accelerated growth could take a negative toll on her health as the multiple fetuses she is carrying will literally leach the nutrients from her body.” Tech added.

“Eh, sounds like she’s got parasites.” Wrecker shivered.

“Technically...unborn babies ARE commensal parasites” Tech adjusted his goggles.

Echo grimaced “Pregnancy sounds...creepy...compared to clone Growth Jars.”

“It’s beautiful.” Hunter mused, staring at the bacta tank Mad was currently floating in. “Imagine giving up your body for another life. Not just during pregnancy but devoting all your energy to raising that delicate being once it’s born, grows, becomes its own person. Loving that little life so much it almost hurts...willing to sacrifice or even die for it...heck...some people do it for others who can’t experience that themselves...” Hunter smiled and tears welled up in his eyes.

Thoomie was impressed “That’s...pretty deep.”

“Yep. That’s Hunter.” Echo grinned. “Usually, it’s all in his head. We’re lucky to hear it out loud right now because of the surgery drugs.”

“He does wax poetically when inebriated as well” Tech added “When sober Hunter tends to hold a HUGE amount of emotional weight in.”

“That’s Tech’s way of sayin’ Hunters a BIG softie.” Wrecker whispered to Taavi.

Taavi chuckled. “Good thing to be. The galaxy needs more empathy, no?”

“My apologies for the interruption” Bucket interjected “Our patient is waking up. Vitals are within normal ranges currently.”

“Whoa, there!” Uncle Taavi tapped the bacta tank to get Mad’s attention.

Mad stirred and slowly started to realize where she was. Inside of the bacta tank she was hooked up to an IV line, a feeding tube, respirator, bacta nebulizer, and endotracheal vacuum. The lines swayed around her as she bobbed in the bacta solution. Mad was only clad in a medical chest binder and med panties which helped secure the lines that carried her urination and defecation waste away. The rest of her exposed body covered in a multitude of small lacerations from the shrapnel Uncle Taavi had surgically removed.

He could see her anxiety ramping up.

“She gonna RIP them out. Bet ya.” Taavi remarked to Thoomie and Tech.

“While I understand your concerns restraints seemed too severe an option.” Tech remarked.

Thoomie nodded “I agree with Tech.”

“Ah, you never seen Mad lose her SHIT! She’s got a phobia about all of this” Taavi motioned to the whole tank, then addressed the B1. “Sorry Bucket, best to leave outta here for now 'fore she notices you. Or gonna be hell to pay!”

The B1 turned to Thoomie. She nodded “It would be best for the patient. You can return when she is sleeping.”

Hunter commiserated “My apologies, Bucket.”.

The droid silently turned to leave.

Mad eyed the med droid suspiciously, then flashed an obscene hand gesture as it left the room.

Hunter giggled.

Mad attempted to laugh too but erupted into a violent coughing fit.

She choked and gagged SOMETHING up. One of the tubes attached to her life support face mask suctioned it out of her trachea.

Her breathing sounded slightly better and less raspy.

Hunter put his hand up to the glass, pressing his palm flat against it.

Mad did the same on the interior of the tank. Eventually, she glanced further out in the room, shocked to recognize Uncle Taavi and Thoomie. She waved excitedly to them...and scanned the room again...

Someone was missing...Mad signed in Basic with her other hand...

LOVE? Tiggy...

Hunter TRIED his very best to keep a neutral face through his post-surgical haze. He was at a loss for words.

Mad glanced up at the faces of all the Batchers, Sil, Taavi, Thoomie...

Varying expressions of sadness and guilt is all she saw. Nobody spoke.

She hitched and cried out loudly, then choked and gagged violently again. In her grief, she reached for the tubes attached to her in what looked like an attempt to pull them out.

Thoomie immediately punched the sedative button on her IV line.

Mad went still within the tank, floating quietly while the endotracheal vacuum cleared her lungs.

“Hate to say it...I told ya so...” Taavi whispered sadly.

Hunter covered his face with both hands and quietly sobbed.

To read Chapter 26 - "LOVE AND HOPE"

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/765645976136564736/vagabonds-chapter-26?source=share

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