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sentientcave · 1 month

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Heavy Weighs the Crown

Had to stop working on everything else and write a whole bunch of this instead. Usually I like to finish things that I think might be on the longer side before I start posting, but we're gonna live on the edge with this one. Expect updates in 1-2 Bearimys.

Chapter One - Sweetpea

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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, Large men picking up reader like a football, No Y/N, A spot of magic, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through. This is just me having a bit of fun with a fantasy setting because it is my favourite type.

~3.4k Words - MDNI

Sunlight streams down through the light scattering of clouds above, as you carry your nearly empty basket into town to buy a few things for your auntie Kate. She’s not truly your aunt, but over the past few years it’s hard to think of her as anything less than family. She’s not warm, exactly, but she’s honest, and you know that you can trust her with anything.

Kate would usually be at your side when you go into town, watching the crowd with hawkish intensity, as though she still expects agents of the new king to materialize and snatch you away, but she’s away on business, and her wife much less paranoid. You expect that anyone who was ever looking for you has given up on you now. After the civil war, there was a time of instability, and you laid awake many nights, half expecting armed men to break into your bedroom and snatch you away, but everything is smoothed over now, and there’s no reason why Price would feel like he needed you to cement his rule.

You’re happy to just let him have the kingdom. You have more freedom as an ordinary girl, and you’re happier now than you ever have been. You were miserable living in your father’s halls, just a spindly little flower growing without enough sun or rain. And your people are happy now too. It twists your stomach something fierce, to think that your father was never a good king, but the reality is that he wasn’t. People starved while he feasted behind his walls. He sent good men to wage war on his behalf, to die in far off lands when they should have been home building better lives for themselves and their families. He allowed his chosen men to terrorize the women and children and old men living in the towns still. Things had been bad.

So yes, let Price have the crown, and the castle, and the responsibility and anything he likes. What difference does it make to you now?

What matters now is the sun on your face, and the gentle sound of birdsong around you, and the dull bite of the occasional stone through the soft leather soles of your shoes. The air smells sweet and green, although there’s a slight prickle at the back of your nose that tells you that there will be rain tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest. There’s nothing to worry about aside from whether or not the children in town will like the end of the book you have tucked into your basket.

You see a young man sleeping by the side of the road on your way into town, his horse tied to a long halter while he lounges beneath a tree. As you pass by, a bird flying too close startles the horse, and it pulls up the peg it’s tied to, and bolts. The young man doesn’t stir, so you dash after the horse without a thought, dropping your basket so you have both hands free to seize the halter.

You try to dig in your heels to stop the big, white-stockinged horse, but it half-drags you a little ways down the road before finally stopping, swinging it’s head around to look at you as though you’ve personally offended it. “Come on,” you tell it, exasperated. “You don’t belong out here.”

Arms wrap around you from behind, hands much larger than yours close over your wrists. “You’re awfully pretty for a horse thief,” a voice says in your ear.

“I’m not a horse thief!” you protest. “I was trying to help!” The horse snorts, as though it intends to tattle on you for something that you most certainly were not doing.

“And you didn’t think to wake me up?” The man behind you lets go of one of your wrists and spins you around, the movement smooth and graceful, like you’re two dancers at a ball, rather than two strangers meeting along a country road. But when you look up, you find the all too familiar face of one of Price’s knights.

“Sir Garrick!” you gasp.

“Princess,” he says, smiling. He’s far too handsome, his smile bright, teeth a little bit too sharp. “How very nice to see you. I thought for sure you’d have left the kingdom by now.”

“No! Oh no.” You push against his chest uselessly. He’s strong, so much stronger than you. Despair claws at your ribs. Your nightmare-come-true may be wrapped in a pretty, familiar face, but you have no desire to return to the capital. “Please let me go. I promise I don’t want the kingdom. Price can have it— You can have it. I just want to be left alone, I swear, I’ll never—”

“Hush, sweetpea.” He tucks a few of your thin braids behind your ear, fingertips grazing down your neck. “I have to bring you in. But you can make your case to Price. Maybe he’ll let you come back, alright? Don’t fret. He’s always been reasonable.”

You’re not certain how to get out of this. Sir Garrick has kind eyes, but his grip is like steel. He lifts you up easily and sets you on his horse before you so much as think of protesting or making a feeble attempt to fight him off.

“We’re not far from the capital. We can make it there before dark,” he continues, voice low and reassuring, as though you’re worried about the travel, and not the destination.

“But— What about my aunt? I should let her know where I’ve gone.”

“We’ll send word. Don’t you worry, your majesty.”

“No, no, don’t call me that. That’s for kings and queens, and I’m neither.” I’m no one, you want to shout.

He's amused by that, amused by you, as if you're just being a silly little girl. "I suppose we'll settle on sweetpea for now." He holds his palm out and three little white birds materialize and fly off in different directions, spectral and iridescent as soap bubbles. And then he swings into the seat behind you and pulls you most of the way into his lap, wraps strong arms around your waist, and nudges his mount into a walk.

“So,” Sir Garrick says conversationally, his voice low, lips far too close to your ear. It’s overly familiar, but you’re already practically sitting in the man’s lap. “What have you been doing out here all these years?”

“Um. Gardening. Embroidery. Taking care of my chickens. Lessons, for some of the children that live nearby. Just letters and arithmetic. I’ve been thinking about organizing a proper schoolhouse.” You can feel your nerves bubbling up as you babble, thoughts coming to you disorganized and stilted. “I never realized how few people can read. It seems a shame. I do a few hours of reading around town, help out at the church. I keep busy. I haven’t any real purpose, so I have to go out of my way to make one.” You sigh, thinking of how you had left things at a particularly gripping point in a story you’d been reading to the town children. They’ll be disappointed if they never hear the end of it, but you still have hope that Price will decide you’ve become something of a country bumpkin with no place in the court, and let you go back home soon. “How have you fared? Is your family well?”

“Quite well. My sisters will be glad to see you again. They always thought you were sweet. Rosie’s opened her own dress shop in the city, and Camellia has five children now. I think Kylie and Jorah were just two or three last you saw them. My mother lives with Cam to help out.” Sir Garrick’s mother and sister used to work at the palace, and he had been apprenticed to the court wizard before he specialized in battle magic and became a knight. You hadn’t been friends, exactly— You’re not sure you ever really had friends— but he’d always been nice enough, when your paths crossed.

“And what of you?” you prompt gently. “Have you found yourself a wife?”

He laughs lightly. “I’m working on it. I’ve a girl in mind, but I think she’ll take some convincing.”

“Oh I doubt that, Sir. You’re perfectly unobjectionable.”

“High praise indeed, princess.”

The two of you chat idly as you travel, mostly about nothing, but it’s pleasant enough. Sir Garrick— Kyle, he insists you call him— is far more charming than you remember, and he makes you laugh so much that you’re certain that you’d simply fall right off the horse if he wasn’t holding onto you so securely. He’s the very picture of a romantic hero, all chivalry and smiles, handsome in the dappled light under the canopy of trees as the road carries you from farmland to forest. You come to a bridge, and he dismounts so his horse can drink, and lifts you down so you can stretch out stiff muscles. His touch lingers, strong hands resting on your hips for a few beats longer than would be appropriate, but you don’t really mind.

You part from his company so you can relieve yourself a little ways into the trees, glad he’s not concerned about you making a run for it. His assurances that Price can be reasoned into letting you go home once you’ve spoken to him is enough to make you cooperative. You’re certain that he’ll take one look at you now and send you right back home. You’ve never had any luck with the young men in town, and if that’s any indication, you’ll be back to your little bedroom in Kate’s house before the week is up.

You fix your clothes and walk back to the road, humming lightly under your breath. Kyle is speaking to a flat glowing disc that hums with energy, floating above his palm. He gives you a smile and a nod and retreats to the tree line while he finishes his conversation. You catch a glimpse of a face on the disc as he turns, searing blue eyes meeting yours for a moment. Price, certainly. You recognize those eyes.

Kyle’s gaze slips over to you again as you kneel by the creek, one arm keeping your skirt out of the water while you trail the other hand through the water idly, the cool stream a pleasant offset to the heat of the afternoon. If you were alone, you would consider stripping down and going for a swim, but as nice as Kyle is, he’s still a man, and not one you know particularly well anymore, if you ever did.

When you look over again, he’s tucking the crystal disc into the front of his tunic, and a wolf is behind him, stalking out of the woods, low to the ground and ready to pounce. “Kyle!” you shout, pointing behind him. He turns quickly, a spell glittering on his fingertips, but the wolf pounces before he can cast it, both crashing into the packed earth along the side of the road.

You rush over, although halfway there you wonder what help you expect to be, and an arm snatches you around the middle, hauling you back. You’re beginning to get a bit annoyed at how much you’ve been manhandled today, and you start kicking as you’re lifted off your feet. “Let me go!”

“Easy, sweet girl. Let the lads say hello,” a deep voice says behind you, the sound rumbling through you like a cat’s purr. “No danger ‘ere.”

You look at Kyle and the wolf again. Only there isn’t a wolf anymore, just a large, naked man laying on top of Kyle, kissing him ardently and more than a little messily. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn. “Oh.”

The man who was a wolf stands up, and you look away, too flustered by the sight of so much bare skin to do anything else. The big man puts you down and turns you to face him, putting your back to the werewolf. “Johnny, put some clothes on before you say ‘ello. We know you were raised by savages, but you don’t need to act like it,” he says firmly, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

You stare at the skull embroidered on the black tunic in front of you, recognizing the emblem, and then the black fencers mask tied around the man’s face, obscuring even the shape of his features. You see a glint of light when he drops his chin to look at you though, gleaming eyes that look at you inscrutably. You know him, by name and reputation and deep, rumbling voice, if not by his face. No one knows him by his face, but he was as highly ranked a knight as Price was, one of your father’s personal guard before the war. Often tasked as your guardian, a solemn but comforting presence always. “Hello, Ghost,” you say, cheeks burning all the hotter. “Been a while.”

“Not as long as you might think,” he says. You can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Been keepin’ an eye on you.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “For how long?”

“Knew where you were this whole time. Wun’t about to let you disappear, princess.” He tucks you against his side, keeping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Johnny. Come meet our girl. Best behaviour.”

Johnny the werewolf grins at you as he walks up, still adjusting the drape of the tartan fabric around his hips, broad chest bare and dusted with hair, swirling blue tattoos printed on his scarred skin. His hair is shaved on the sides, a stripe of it left long in the center. “Nice ta finally meet ya, princess. Officially, anyway. We’ve bumped intae each other once or twice, but I was told no’ ta approach unless ye approached first, aye? Shame ye never did.” His smile is crooked, his too-bright blue eyes intent on yours. “Think we’ll get along.”

“The whole time?” you ask, skipping back a few paces in the conversation, glancing up at Ghost. “But Kyle said—”

“Sorry, sweetpea,” Kyle says airily. “I lied.”

“Typical tricksy wizard shite. But dinnae ye worry none, we’ll keep him honest for ye.” Johnny grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, and then to the inside of your palm. His rough fingertips push your sleeve back, and he kisses the inside of your wrist too. When you squeak, he gives you a heated look and does it again, teeth grazing sensitive skin as he opens his mouth and licks a stripe across your pulse.

You’re warm from the tips of your ears to your chest, your breath catching on ragged nerves. You tug your hand out of his grip and cradle it with your other, like you’ve been burned by his brash touch.

“Johnny,” Ghost says, exasperated. “S’that what you call best behaviour?”

“She likes it, sir.”

“I most certainly do not!” you protest.

“Oh, aye ye do. Werewolf, ye ken. Can smell ye.” Johnny taps the side of his nose and winks at you. “Ye dinnae need ta be embarrassed, sweetpea. Ye can hardly blame yerself, faced with all this.” He gestures to his admittedly impressive physique, the broad and lean shape of near-perfect manhood on immodest display.

“Let’s move.” Kyle’s hand brushes your elbow. “You can ride with me again.”

Ghost shakes his head and turns, pulling you with him. “No. Come meet Nox.” He whistles, and a huge black shape hurtles down from the sky, glossy black wings snapping open just before the creature hit the ground, flapping a few times so that it lands lightly on four mismatched limbs, stirring up dust leaves. You shrink back against Ghost’s side, eyes wide. A gryphon.

The massive beast has a raven’s head and wings, and shiny black fur on it’s haunches. The catlike tail, with it’s tuft of feathers at the end, twitches back and forth as the bird head tilts to regard you, dark, slit-pupil eyes watching you with interest.

You look up at Ghost for reassurance, and he nods. “Go on. Offer ‘er your ‘and. She won’t bite. Hey, girl?” he scratches the gryphon behind the ear, and it opens it’s mouth to make a vibrating, keening sound that makes Kyle’s horse snort nervously. “That’s right, sweetpea’s a friend.”

You offer your outstretched hand to the giant creature, bolstered by Ghost’s calm, and it sticks it’s beak under your palm, making the same keening sound again. The last of your apprehension melts away, and you step closer, smiling. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?” You scratch the spot where her beak meets her feathers, and her eyes close for a moment.

Johnny reaches for the Nox’s side, and she whips her head around and hisses at him, her throat feathers fluffing up defensively. “Och, yer no’ goan ta git my fingers, ye wee beastie. Thought ye was gettin’ soft.”

“Away, Johnny. Let the girls get to know each other.” Ghost stands behind you and guides your hands to points just behind Nox’s jaw. The gryphon croaks and leans her head on your shoulder, nudging Ghost with her beak.

“Not so scary,” you coo, pressing your face into the soft cloud of feathers. “What a sweet girl.”

“How about it, Nox? Can she ‘op up?” Ghost asks. The gryphon croaks again and backs away enough to lean her front half down. Ghost picks you up and sets you on her back, on a flat saddle that sits right behind the joint of her massive wings, which fold up over your legs like she’s holding you steady. He pats Nox on the neck and starts walking, and she follows, padding beside him, sticking her beak between the joints of his leather armor playfully whenever he takes his hand off her.

You grab the edge of the saddle, mindful of Nox’s feathers, and it takes a moment to adjust to her movement. It’s not the side to side sway of a horse, but she’s steady, like she’s trying her best not to spill an inexperienced rider. Thoughtful of her.

Behind you, Kyle scrambles up onto his horse, and Johnny hustles to catch up, positioning himself on Ghost’s other side, giving Nox a wider berth.

“Thought we weren’t supposed ta tell her we were watchin’,” Johnny said. “Price said—”

“She ought to know. I wun’t too ‘appy about it in the first place, but a deal’s a deal.”

“A deal with who?” you ask.

“I’ll let Price tell you that much, sweetpea. But if it were up to me I’d’ve dragged you back home years ago.”

You shake your head tiredly. “Home is where I was. And I’m going back as soon as this business with Price is done. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m sure we can work something out. Kyle said he’s reasonable.”

“Oh, did ‘e?” Ghost asks, amusement colouring his deep voice. “S’pose that’s ‘ow ‘e had you comin’ along purrin’ like a kitten, hm?”

The blood drains from your face as you turn to look at Kyle, but he doesn’t look guilty, or like he’d been lying to you. “Well, again, I’m perfectly happy to cooperate. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t let me go when he gets what he wants, is there?”

Johnny chuckles, exchanging a look with Ghost that’s inscrutable. “Aye, ye’ve got a point. I’m sure ye’ll have no trouble dealin’ with the old man. Born diplomat, aren’t ye?”

Your stomach twists with nerves. It’s been many years since you’ve seen John Price. You don’t know him as well as you know Ghost. You’d always found the big, faceless man strangely comforting, easy to talk at, if not to, especially when you were still young and silly. But John Price, when he fixed you with those fathomless dark blue eyes, had always rendered you speechless, turned your usually clever tongue to lead. He was a knight captain then, a natural leader of men, a hero. Not someone that your father wanted you to get close to. It’s easy for you to see why now, with your father dead in the ground and Price wearing the crown, but you were glad for any excuse to stay away.

You wish you could ask Nox to fly away with you on her back, maybe home, but maybe somewhere else entirely, where no one knows you, where you can start again without the weight of the crown hanging heavy over your head, an executioner’s ax waiting to fall.

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

#Fantasy AU #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem Reader #141 x reader #Heavy Weighs the Crown #Cave Writing #This is mostly gonna be fun and light-hearted I just really enjoy fantasy and I've been watching a lot of DnD content lately #“He's always been reasonable” Kyle lies thinking fondly of his boss - the least reasonable man in the realm #Let me know if you need any content warnings in here but I feel this one's pretty light

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bigkickguy · 5 months

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daanmarcoh doodle - they're sleeping in shifts and keeping watch

#daanmarcoh #daarcoh #kickdraw #funger #i just wanted to draw them and try to punch through artblock !#as soon as i have the energy to actually render something and draw a background its so over #the eternal struggle of 'do i use daan's portrait or map sprite for hair color'#really just wanted to draw daan with marcoh's jacket #thought to myself yesterday - 'idk why they aren't as popular' so figured i'd throw some art into the mix again #such good fanfiction coming out for them too #I really want to get back into a drawing stride for them :')#the shirt grab is to make sure he's still there watching - if marcoh turns around or leaves daan would feel it #i feel like they're walking a weird line in my mind #they just met and in some cases all they have is each other - but they dont really know each other in any way #they just have to trust the stranger who didn't kill them immediately won't be worse than the fucked up monsters around them

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classicslesbianopinions · 1 month

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i don't believe that dante's inferno is fanfiction but i do believe that saying dante's inferno is fanfiction is a great way to find out whether or not the person you're talking to is completely insufferable

#mod felix #i subscribe to the 'the designation of fanfiction relies on the modern-day legal concept of copyright' school of thought #but like. i'm just thinking about like.#how people will use that example to like. dismiss any conversation about fanfiction as it relates to 'classic literature'#and it's like. well i think it's more interesting to talk about how fanfiction and fan culture is similar to/different #from literature and literary culture from the past?#literary culture isn't the right word but 🤷#anyway. some people are really contemptuous of fanfiction and they're missing out on some interesting lines of inquiry.

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happypeachsludgeflower · 2 years

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Bruce gives progressively worse and worse interviews to farm boy Clark Kent just to troll his best friend.

#secret identity #Clark doesn’t know Bruce is batman #but Bruce KNOWS Clark is Superman #he goes out of his way to ask for Clark to give him interviews #he doesn’t really talk to any other reporter just so he can annoy Clark more #Clark is just done #clark kent #Bruce Wayne #superbat #bruce x clark #clark x bruce #best friends to annoyances to I’m going to murder you to lovers #superman vs batman #batman headcanon #batman au #superman #fanfiction prompt

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the-angst-chronicles-fanworks · 1 month

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The Wolf and The Witch

Part 1/?

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood. He’d been warned from the time he was a child, back before the wolf, that it was home to its namesake. And not just any witch, a dangerous one. One that had killed an entire hunting party, unprompted, with the flick of a finger. None who have entered those woods since have ever returned.

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood, but he doesn’t have a choice. Robin is slumped over his back, hands clenched tightly in his fur, clinging desperately to consciousness. He can feel her blood, warm and sticky, matting the fur of his back. His own gait is slowed, every step jolting the silver teeth digging into his right hind leg and sending sharp pain shooting through him. He’s not sure how much longer he can run, and he can hear them - the bloodthirsty cries of the townsfolk dead set on his murder.

They had been found out. So many cycles of living in this town, living among its residents as a friend and neighbour, and still they’ve all turned on him. Of all the times for it to happen, too. It was the moon he had agreed to make Robin a wolf. She had already been weakened from the wolf taking hold when they had been attacked, the silver already a weakness but her body not yet given over to the strength of the wolf.

Steve wishes he could take her to Nancy, knows Nancy would help despite everything, but the townspeople have blocked them off, funneled him in his blind panic. His only hope is to lose them is the wood, but even then he might lose Robin to his own fumbling medical knowledge.

But first, he has to get away from their pursuers. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Steve enters the Witchwood.

————————————————————————

Eddie is no stranger to people trying to do him harm. It’s been a constant in his life from the time he was a child, long before his gifts had awakened. And one that had- well. It’s been a constant of his life, sure as the cycle of the moon and sun. So he notices the prickle of someone entering the woods, but he gives it no regard. It happens a few times a year, that someone gets it into their heads that they will be the one to kill “The Witch of the Woods”. None ever even make it to him, losing themselves in the enchanted trees.

These trees are older than him, and their magic is their own. They like him and welcome him among them, but otherwise are hostile to outsiders. In the beginning, he had tried to help those who became lost in the woods, but those days have long since passed. Despite what his uncle says about his soft heart, Eddie’s become bitter and jaded and he no longer pays any mind to those who venture into the woods.

But this time, something is different. Eddie feels the disturbance of someone crossing into the forest, feels the shift of magic as the forest warps around them, and it’s… different. The ways and paths of the trees are second nature to him, he can tell by the shimmer of magic against his skin which paths have been revealed and which hidden away and this…

The forest is being lenient, gentle. The interlopers are shown the ways to peaceful places, soft and danger-free. Eddie can recall only a few times that the forest has been kind to intruders, and it has almost exclusively been to children.

So he’s more than curious already when he feels the buzz of more people crossing the boundary into the woods. A lot more. And Eddie realizes that this hunt is not for him.

The trees are not so kind this time, opening its twists and turns like a maze, a trap for anyone foolish enough not to turn back immediately. They don’t, of course. They never do. Eddie pays them no mind, drawn instead by curiosity to the two that are being pursued.

He steps between the trees, slipping into a space that’s folded away between reality, picking his way with ease through paths that are there and paths that are not until he emerges at the edge of a small clearing, moonlit and mossy. Theres a tiny spring-fed pond and there, limping toward it, is a wolf. It’s huge, the size of a small bear, with a strong frame and thick russet fur.

It notices him at the same time as he notices it, and it’s massive head swings to face him, teeth already bared in a snarl. It’s hackles raise, and it turns fully, squaring up, a threatening growl rumbling across the little clearing to him.

Eddie steps back, already gathering his power until it glows around him with dark energy, because this is no normal wolf. Even without the size and the silver trap clamped around its leg giving it away, he can see it in its eyes, feel in its presence that this is something more.

He recalls his childhood, the warning tales at his mother’s knee. He remebers later, freshly chased out of town and taken in by his uncle, watching as the old man leafed through his ancient book and warned Eddie that he wasn’t the only dangerous thing in the wilds. Eddie has no doubt that he’s come across one of those dangerous things now. He looks at the wolf and knows exactly what he’s seeing.

A werewolf.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #fantasy au #werewolf Steve #Eddie’s not really a witch he doesn’t practice witchcraft in any real way #that’s just what the people call him #I’d say he’s more of a sorcerer with a sprinkle of Druid #I’m still calling this the wolf and the witch because they both start with w lol #this was supposed to be a one and done ficlet but it kind of became something else and now I want to continue #magic Eddie #werewolf Robin #she was just bitten like a couple of hours ago poor robs TToTT #it’s important that you know Eddie’s magic is black or dark red and his eyes go black when he really uses it #both Eddie and Steve (and now Robin ) have elongated lifespans #Nancy is Steve’s ex and she knows that he’s a wolf #she doesn’t exactly like it but she’s working on that with herself and she would still protect him with everything she has #writing #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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bongo-clash · 2 years

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Peacock Au Part 2

Okay so!!! Part two of this post about the DPxDC eldritch Danny fic that I'm now calling the peacock au lmao!!!!

(Chapter two of the fic under the cut) (Edit: You can now find part 3 Here!!!)

When the feeling of being just slightly dispersed settles onto the outer layer of his skin while he’s lying in bed, Danny knows what’s about to happen.

The thing is, he’s in his pyjamas. Sure, he could just stay in his human form for the summoning- because he’s done it before and it went fine- but he never knows who it’s going to be, and being spirited away to some college students’ dorm in his pyjamas is embarrassing. And sure, having something appear in the circle in the first place is probably enough that they’re not paying attention to what he’s wearing either way, but he refuses to bank on that. So, with a sigh, he allows himself the transformation, his human appearance falling easily away.

It always feels more natural to be a ghost during rituals, probably because they’re summoning a ghost and not a human, but still, it’s different. He feels that little bit looser, maybe even a little more himself, though he guesses being a bit more glow-y is just nice generally, and the space decals that tend pop up as part of his whole light-show-summons are a homely touch. On the other hand, it does make it harder to take stock of his surroundings when he finally fades into view wherever he is. He can make out vague grey walls and floors, but that’s about it.

Well, that and the man in front of him. Blond, taller than him if he wasn’t in the air, somewhere past his forties, wearing a beige trenchcoat and looking oddly terrified. Danny can see his hands shaking just a little. Does he know this guy from somewhere?

“Uh, dude?” Danny calls, going for something light. It’s annoying being dragged from the comfort of his own home, definitely, but this guy doesn’t look like some cult member, and if he’s alone and this scared it might mean he really needs the help. Danny can sympathise with doing stupid things in stupid situations. “You good? You’re not looking too hot there.”

He knows he’s using ghost speak, but it feels weird to use English in a summoning like this, and fortunately, Danny spies a translation sigil wrapped around the inner centre of the circle, so he knows it should be translating right back to the guy in front of him. Very handy for language barriers, he’ll admit- and it’s working, too, if the reply is any indication.

“I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

His voice is gravelly, and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s nervous, doesn’t speak much, a smoker, or all three. Either way, probably not Danny’s business, and right now he’s just curious about what the man’s talking about. “Pits? That’s kinda vague, man. What pits?”

“The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. I… heard you could take care of ‘em.”

Lazarus Pits. He’s heard of those, Clockwork’s mentioned them a couple of times. They’re natural portals that open when enough energy is built up, and end up stabilising into the ground instead of collapsing to help seep ambient ectoplasm into the air. They don’t work as actual portals after that, but it’s vital to keep at least a few around no matter how corrupted they can get through human interference, because it keeps the balance of both realms steady. Having too many around isn’t a good thing, though, and especially not in populated areas. It can cause ecto-contamination, which is a lot more dangerous when you haven’t been around it since birth (or if you aren’t from Amity).

Speaking of which, it certainly is stinking up the place, now that he’s aware of it. Or maybe that’s just Gotham, he’s heard a lot about-

Hang on. Gotham. Weird potentially magic dude. He knew he recognised him! That’s John Constantine! Danny’s heard of John Constantine! Sam’s got her fingers in enough credible occult spaces that they’re at least vaguely aware of some of his endeavours, but if he’s in Gotham then that probably means he’s doing something for the Batman and, wow, Danny totally would’ve tried to go more professional for this if he knew this was going to be his first encounter with the Justice League,of all things.

Well, he guesses it’s too late now. At least the guy’s not being too weird about it or anything. “Man, yeah, I’ve totally got the smell stuck up my nose now that you mention it. Do you get that as well? Since, y’know, you’ve probably dealt with a couple ghosts.”

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

Dang, the guy seems stressed about this. Maybe he just doesn’t like being in Gotham territory? He’s pretty sure he’s heard of Batman having a thing about magic. “Sure I can.”

“…Will you fix it?”

Danny figures that if they already know about his status through his Zone maintenance duties, and he’s going to be helping the Justice League, he might as well show off a little bit. Assenting with a hum and trying not to grin, he puts his hands to the floor, and lets his ectoplasm reach out to the source of the smell, sending a flash of light across the ground as it goes through. When it twinges back a response, he closes his eyes, and his energy curls around it, threading through like needles to seams, and pushes it shut with a gentle nudge. Luckily, it hadn’t been around for too long- barely fully formed and not even corrupted by human contact yet- it would’ve be a lot more difficult if it had.

He lets his hands rise up again after a long moment, looking to Constantine for a reaction. He can’t quite gauge what the man is thinking. “Alrighty, that should’ve done it.”

“Uh… cheers?”

He’s about to say something along the lines of ‘no problem’ or ‘you’re welcome’, but then he remembers he should probably warn him about the aftermath so he doesn’t freak. “The pit shouldn’t come back again, but just as like, a PSA: you might see more shades than usual hovering around for the next while. It shouldn’t be too big a deal so long as you leave ‘em alone, though, so don’t worry about it.”

For all that Danny’s trying to be considerate here, Constantine doesn’t look very considerated. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“…Dude, what d’you think I am?”He replies, thoroughly bemused. Isn’t this guy supposed to be one of the League’s paranormal experts or something? He really should be able to recognise a ghost by now. “I keep your Lazarus Pits in check. You know, the pits of the dead?”

Okay, maybe a little rude on his side, but he thinks Constantine’s expression is a bit of an overreaction; he can see the sheen of sweat across the man’s forehead reflecting the light of the sigils. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“Well, I mean, this was a favour for Batman, right?” He asks blithely, pointedly not paying attention to the way the man’s face keeps contorting. He swears Sam said he was more stoic than this. “I’m gonna go- ‘cause I’ve got things to do- but I guess if something comes up I’ll come to you? Or Batman, since this is his city and all. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know.”

Figuring there’s nothing left to be said, Danny lets the return sigil on the edge of the circle activate and punt him back home, wheezing a half-sigh and arching his back once the wispy image of wherever they’d been recedes. He probably looks exhausted after all that- no matter how recently formed the pit was, it still takes a little strain, and he’d just been about to sleep before he got summoned- but looking in the mirror on his wall for confirmation, he doesn’t find his usual face. Something twinges against where his spine should be, confirming its own previously unnoticed presence in the mortal plane.

…He didn’t go ghost when Constantine summoned him, he used his true form. That must be why he looked so nervous that whole time! And, man, ghostspeak never translates over quite right in this form, either- the Ancients use a different dialect to original ghostspeak- the man probably wasn’t hearing what Danny thought he was at all. What if the only reason he wasn’t attacking was because he was terrified? What must Constantine have thought of him?

Crap. He has to fix this. How is he going to find him?

#Peppered in some of my own worldbuilding about ectoplasm/the pits in DC there but Still-#I just thought it'd be Really Funny if Danny had absolutely no clue what he was saying was coming across so terrifying #Like- sure he Can say that kind of ominous stuff on his own- but I think it'd be really great #If no one knew when it was a translation error or if he meant it #If there's any mistakes in the please be kind I forget how to read when I'm editing-#Chapter 3's already done so I should be posting that either tomorrow or the day after!!#It'll pretty much be the conclusion to this whole thing but I've been talking to Bones and she's got So Many cool ideas #That I really want to make a part 4 for because they're really fun!!!#Either way this has been really nice to do!!!#dp au #danny phantom au #dp fic #danny phantom fanfiction #dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #Bongo's Aus!!!#Bongo's Writing!!!#peacock au

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jestroer · 9 months

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HERMITS IN DRESSES BACK WITH STRESSKALL!!

Inspired by wonderful, awesome, fantastic fic by @mawofthemagnetar The Sky Weighs Heavy Tonight!!! Couldn't stop thinking about their wedding dresses!!! :DDDDD

#court jester's art #hermitcraft #court jester's dress moment #stressmonster101 #iskall85 #sorry if there are any mistakes in appearence ive read the fic a bit ago and my memory is not the best #but i tried my best to find most appearence descriptions #when i was reading i saw the description of iskall's dress and i was like i MUST DRAW IT IM THE DRESS DRAWING GUY #This fic is so forever beloved it changed my brain im now not normal about planes and the skies #Will absolutely try to make fanart of something that actually happens in the fic 😔I was just really exited about the dress design #and the stresskall #stresskall #court jester's fanfiction appreciation moment #man its been a while since i drew a dress i missed it #hermitshipping #almost forgot #eyestrain

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fr3sh-c0rn · 2 months

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reading fanfiction is great until you can't discern what is canon and what isn't

#fanfiction memes #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #ao3 memes #this can really be for any fandom but it's mainly about #*drumroll*#house md

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mactavishsgfandwife · 8 days

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"candy" by paolo nutini is so simon riley coded

"i’m a heartless man at worst, babe and a helpless one at best"

"i know you got plenty to offer, baby but i guess i’ve taken quite enough" "well, i’m some stain there on your bedsheet you’re my diamond in the rough"

"darling, i’ll bathe your skin i’ll even wash your clothes just give me some candy before i go"

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the-kipsabian · 4 months

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wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

#wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #i hope this make some sort of coherent sense #despite being a writer im really bad at words lmao #i also dont know what to tag this with without clogging main tags so im going to trust moots to get this going first #just. this is a topic im passionate about. i love writing i love writers and having seen the wrestling fandom as of late really struggling #with this. we need to do something. even a little bit helps. actually get people leaving feedback and commenting again #supporting each other. we can do this together #dont let dreams be dreams lets fucking do this #just be nice and help each other out #im gonna stop now before i get overly emotional. if theres any questions let me know tho i think i got the main parts pretty clear here #again moots. im trusting you to get this started. im not gonna add my own shit here immediately this isnt about me #this is about the community as a whole #i also hope nobody is afraid of adding themselves here. you are all valid and worth the attention no matter what #just remember to also give if you leave something here. look at the previous links. look in the notes to find more people #okay thats it i need to make dinner now #lets just be kind and support one another. promise me that 💜#night is an absolute mess on main

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ceilidho · 8 months

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blue collar ghost you say? someone you might invite into your house mayhaps? electrician who arrives to find such a small thing who has no business living alone in a neighbourhood like this ... what's he gonna do NOT add in some extra security of his own? it's for your own good really and who's to blame him if maybe he gives himself access too - really it's just being precautious

look there's just something so intoxicating about that first moment. you being stressed and overwhelmed (something's wrong with your apartment/house) and frazzled, maybe only half-dressed or your hair in a disarray and then of course, the knock at the door comes at the most inopportune time. and you open it half-grateful and half-irritated only to freeze and have to crane your neck to look up at this big guy standing just outside your door, clad in a wrinkled uniform (either a uniform shirt and jeans or coveralls). your mouth going dry at the sight of him.

and then you have to invite this man into your place and he doesn't even take off his work boots and you spend the next hour or so oscillating between annoyed and outrageously turned on. trying to do busy work throughout the rest of the house instead of hovering right behind this strange guy in your space.

#blue collar aus remind me of any time ive had a really hot maintenance guy alone in my apartment #just FODDER for my later fanfiction career

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wardenparker · 3 months

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Summer Rose

Professor!Santiago Garcia x female OC Co-written with @julesonrecord

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: OC is named (Daphne Antonelli) but has minimal physical description. Age gap 10+ years. Both parties are consenting adults. Alcohol consumption, mutual pining, professor/student, oral sex (f and m receiving), 69, sexy mythology references, vaginal sex, protected sex, fingernails/scratching, a bit of biting. Summary: Daphne is having an absolutely terrible day and has missed office hours to turn in her final paper to Professor Garcia. When she turns up on his doorstep to turn in her assignment, the professor she's been crushing on for ages offers her a supportive ear -- and help relaxing. Notes: A little collaboration between myself and my beloved Jules featuring a character we've working on (Daphne) and today's wet daydream of college professor!Santiago. Honestly this is just a bit of porn with the barest thread of a plot, and we're not sorry. Also, just a disclaimer that I have no clue how one finishes a masters degree, but it doesn't matter. We're here for the porn, not the threadbare plot.

Twilight is beautiful on campus. Santiago has always thought so, even before he had the letters after his last name that demarcate him as faculty. He enjoys the blush of the sun fading, the purple of the dusky sky fading to blue-black, indigo, then glitter with starlight.

He likes walking home after class this way; a quiet moment to ease his mind after lectures and before grading. This late in the semester, it will be one of the last walks before the summer term. As he passes through the quiet neighborhood and climbs his front doors, he glances up, spies Orion's Belt in the heavens. He thinks about introducing the story next time he holds his Mythology and Myth-Making class. Did he include it this year? He can't remember. He'd been... distracted.

His phone pings with a text as he sets his messenger bag on the dining room table and undoes his cuff buttons, rolling them up. Too damn hot for this, damn dress code rules... He peers down at the message, and notes it's from an unknown number. His students know to text him if they have an emergency, so he opens it straight away.

Hi, Professor Garcia. I know that it's after office hours, but the fact is...I missed office hours altogether. Would it be an inconvenience to call you and explain? Otherwise I'm not sure how to get my final paper to you. Thanks, Daphne Antonelli (Mythology and Myth-Making)

Santiago lifts an eyebrow. He recognizes the name. Oh yes, he recognizes it. In fact, he's called it to mind more often than is probably appropriate, along with the image of a very beautiful graduate student with a focused stare and drop-dead gorgeous eyes. She was an attentive student, responsive, ready to answer questions but never one to hog the spotlight, making insightful, empathetic, and razor-sharp questions. It was unlike her to miss anything, never mind not visit office hours. They'd spent many such visits over the semester. Short. Professional. Of course.

So why does his heart rate increase, his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he thoughtfully taps the phone screen, spelling out a careful, professional text?

Hi Daphne. As this is your final paper, I would really like to have it ASAP as I am required to submit grades on Monday. Why don't you swing by my home to drop it off?

Feel free to call, he types, then deletes before sending. He wanted to hear her voice. He did need that paper. No reason why he couldn't do both in person. No reason at all.

He had had his graduate students over for a spring dinner after midterms so they know how and where to find him. The bonfire that night had lasted for ages, as tipsy grad students who were feeling feisty with a full meal in their bellies debated the cultural implications of different myth origins and the similarities of some creation myths that they had just been discussing in class. Daphne had been amongst the students that night, animatedly defending her points with unmatched ferocity that was impossible to ignore.

The text that comes through a few moments later takes a while for her to decide on, judging from the continuously undulating bubbles indicating how long she was typing compared to the brevity of the eventual message.

Thank you for understanding. I'll be over shortly so the rest of your night isn't interrupted.

Satisfaction. He tosses the phone down and leans over the table with a slow sigh, taking a look around the room. The same old familiar wall-to-wall bookshelves line the tidy bungalow. The same pendant lamps up, tacky, that he'd meant to change when he bought this place... four years ago. His degrees might be hung in his office upstairs, his clothes are here, he shaves here, but who does he have here, really? Nobody. Warm sheets for a night and then no one. Nothing. There was no reason to bother, really—

And then Daphne. Daphne with her slowly blossoming smile that melted from shy to beaming when he said hello to her on campus. Daphne with her neat notes in the margins, Daphne with the legs that had so often been tucked primly next to his as they leaned over a book or paper together, never touching but so close, close enough so that he could smell her perfume: cinnamon, orchid, incense.

"Fuck," he mutters to the table. There's no way of hiding from himself, not really. He pushes off the wood and stalks to the kitchen for a beer. He cracks it open efficiently and takes a long swallow, Adam's apple bobbing. He wants her. That much is clear. How could he not? She was intelligent, fierce, gorgeous. He could fool himself all he wanted, her coming here was a bad idea. It's been a long semester, keeping her close but not too close.

But, he realizes with a jolt, she's about to graduate. This is her final, his course is over. He is... well, technically by Monday, no longer her professor.

"Fuck," he mutters again, this time to a magnet of a catfish, his only catch from a weekend out fishing with the guys.

It's twenty minutes later precisely when his doorbell rings. There was no sound of a car outside on the street or dramatic slam of a door, but when he opens the door there is a bicycle leaning against his front gate and a frazzled looking student on his front step.

"Hi, Professor." Daphne stands on his step with a mix of anxiety and embarrassment on her face and she digs into her bag right away to pull out a manila folder with his class name and number written on it alongside her name. "I'm so sorry about this. I know it's technically late and that you'll have to dock points for that. It's completely my fault."

"Hey, hey, easy." He lifts a palm and lowers it soothingly, taking the manila folder gently. "There's no need to be sorry, accidents happen." Then, as he knew he would, he asked, "Would you like to come in? It's the end of semester, though. Maybe you have a party you'd rather get to?" He smiles fondly, bumping his shoulder against the doorframe and folding his arms to show off his tanned forearms, shirt sleeves straining slightly.

Yeah, he's still got moves. And he wants to show them off. To Daphne. Who is no longer his student. Who's staring up at him with the anguish slowly sliding from her face. He wants to remove it, stroke her stress away with his thumb, ease it out of her slowly—

Fuck, he's screwed.

"I'm not really – I mean, I haven't –" She doesn't get invited to parties, is what she's trying to say. Not that she doesn't enjoy parties, because she does. She absolutely does. The night they spent here at his house just sitting around the fire talking and sharing a meal was one of her favorite graduate school memories. But she isn't great at socializing with the other students in her program, she's found. There is something a little odd about Daphne, and it has reverberated through her life to keep her just a little on the outside of normal.

Maybe that's why she nods, accepting the invitation with swallowed thanks, and steps inside her professor's house. Her professor who has more than a decade on her in terms of age but has never held his years of experience or knowledge over her head. If they were colleagues, she might have even considered him a friend. As it is, being his student, she's stuck in a sort of limbo with a useless crush and fond memories. "I've had kind of a crazy day," she admits sheepishly. "Even if I had been invited to any of the parties on campus, I don't think I would be going."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Daph," he says, with real sympathy. "Is everything all right? I just opened a beer, would you like anything?"

"A pipe burst at my place and my landlord is claiming I'm liable, then my computer crashed in the middle of doing one last edit on your term paper and the tech office gave me grief, it's just...it's been a long day." She barely even nodded in agreement that a drink would be a huge relief, but he is immediately retreating to his refrigerator to grab her a beer. "Oh, and my summer plans fell through today." Her shoulders sag, the stress of the day dragging her down and determined to keep her there. "I'm just lucky I got up to take a shower first thing this morning or else the day would've been even worse."

"Oh, Daph, that's a rotten one," he says, placing the opened beer on the coffee table and settling his hands on her shoulders. "What happened to your summer? Surely you're going off to some incredible internship, you're more than qualified." And she is. He'd have recommended her to any program she wanted, and had, in fact, written her a letter of recommendation earlier in the year. "You know I'm not going to dock points, right?" he asks more quietly. "None of today was your fault, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. That shouldn't burrow into her chest and bloom into warmth like it does, and Daphne's eyes drop to the floor immediately to carefully focus on the toes of her boots instead of looking him in the face. That's your professor. Don't be creepy. "I had that internship lined up in London with the publishing company but they pulled the rug out from under me." She shrugs, feeling more vulnerable in the moment than she wants to admit. "Apparently the CFO's kid decided all of a sudden that he wants to be an author, so they rescinded my offer. He's going to get it instead."

His chest pangs. He hates that there is nothing he can do to fix this for her -- because she's right. That's the cherry on top of an extremely long day, and all he can do then is what feels most natural, which is to lift her chin up with the crook of his finger, his voice soft, gentle. "Hey."

When she meets his gaze, he watches them flicker slightly, scanning his face as he drinks in hers. Her eyes are so pretty. Like fresh honey dripped from a spoon.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says again, and means it. "You deserve that spot, but you'll find something better, okay? Hey, look at me." She had turned away slightly, embarrassed or perhaps made shy by his praise, but her eyes fix on him again, golden and fringed with thick lashes. "I promise, you will. There's lots of ways into this world, and you're too talented not to break in. Okay? You want to sit down, tell me about it?" His fingers clasp around her delicate elbow, ready to guide her to the couch.

"There's not a lot more to tell, to be honest." Two people with two beers steer almost mechanically toward the couch, and Daphne finds herself being seated on his plush leather sectional just before he sits down beside her. This spring has been chilly and he still has a throw blanket out, which he pulls close to them as if to have it at the ready. "No summer in London means I'm going to have to either go back home and figure out my next step there, or find a new place here and do the same. Because I'm sure as hell not staying in the place I'm in now. As if the landlord weren't bad enough, now the plumbing is going."

"Huh." He trails his arm over the back of the sofa, sipping his beer thoughtfully. "What kinda guy is this-" Asshole, he wants to say, but quells it, "Fellow? Any chance he'll back off? Perhaps once he... calms down, he can be reasoned with." He's approaching the boundary of reason himself. He can see it, taste it, the drip of something sweet down his throat. "Beautiful woman like you? You could convince a man of anything."

The pffft sound that comes out of her mouth goes with a wave of her hand, but she does accept a sip of the beer that he's brought her with a grateful sigh. "The apartment is a piece of shit anyway, if I'm honest. I hate it there. It's just that it's affordable." There's a moment's pause where Daphne's eyes widen in panic and she deflates again with a groan. "I already put in my notice at my job, oh my god."

"Hey, hey, Daphne." He puts his beer down and reaches for her, wrapping one arm around her waist, cupping her flushed cheek with the other hand. "C'mon, it's going to be okay, I promise, but for right now, I need you to relax, okay? Can you do that for me, bebita?" They're so close now, almost nose to nose. He's lost in her eyes again, but he can feel the burning heat of her little cheek in his palm.

She had been so sure she was going to start crying instantly with that realization, but two searing hot hands on her skin steady her. His touch is grounding, pulling her away from the edge of panic and drawing her into his aura so effortlessly that she didn't even realize how close he was until she felt his breath on her skin. "O—okay—" He can't know that the thing keeping her from having a complete panic attack on his couch right now is the fact that all the blood in her body has rushed to her aching clit, but damned if it isn't working. Daphne nods vaguely, trying to keep her head from swimming, but all she feels is his hands on her and the way his coffee brown eyes have turned to oceans in front of her. "Okay," she repeats softly.

"Okay?" Santiago nods, his breath coming a little fast. "I'll help you. I'll help you relax, sweetheart. You tell me to stop any time, okay?" He leans closer so slowly, their breaths mingling. He can almost count her eyelashes. Her nose is sweet and soft as it brushes his, but it's nothing compared to her plush lips. They seal against his and he feels the world fall out from under him. Something deep and ravenous unlocks and spills out all over his inside. He barely chokes down a groan.

There is no doubt that this is the most surreal moment of Daphne's life, and it isn't as though she hasn't been in some weird situations before. It's a miracle that she managed to get her beer bottle onto the nearby coffee table without spilling or knocking anything over, but she needs her hands for this. For a year and a half she's been working on a master's degree and avoiding too much contact with the one professor who makes her mind fog up and her daydreams wander, until finally she had landed in his classroom.

And now on his couch.

Kissing him.

If it were anything besides the most surreal moment of her life, she might have jumped backward or at the very least, pulled away. But Daphne has imagined kissing Santiago Garcia far too many times to do anything but sigh in response and open up for him like a summer rose.

"It's okay," he repeats soothingly between kisses: to himself, to her, to the waiting tension in the room. "I've got you, cariño. I've got you now, there you go, so sweet for me. So pretty. Beautiful, smart girl." He deepens the kiss, tasting her lips slowly, reverently, one hand sliding slowly down her soft sweater to rest on her waist and squeeze gently. He brushes his thumb over the soft material and then flicks it open, wanting closeness, to drag his palm up her thin blouse, wide and slow across her back.

The sound that bubbles out of her is a plaintive moan, unsure but wanting, and one of her hands grasps for steadiness on his arm even as the other instinctively sinks into his curls to keep him close. The battle is want versus wisdom, and it takes longer than she's proud of for Daphne to drag her lips from his and pant for a breath that still has no prayer of clearing her head.

"But." The fog in her mind has settled thick and heavy like the arousal in her core, and even as she's trying to straighten herself out she's still clinging to him with digging fingers and sharp nails. "You'll get fired," she manages to breathe out a few seconds later. Her only real protest being that she doesn't want him to get in trouble over a whim – which is surely all this is to him.

"Baby, no, no," he shakes his head, almost laughing with relief that that is her only concern. "No, you're graduating. I'm not your teacher any more. You handed in your paper. We can finally do what I – what I've been—" Shit. This is going to sound so bad. "What I've been thinking about since I met you," he admits.

Santi leans his forehead against hers, sighing. "I'm sorry. It's so inappropriate, but it's true. I've been waiting so long to kiss you, baby girl. Let me kiss you." He brushes his fingers over her knee, lifting her skirt just a little. "Let me make you feel so good, my little nymph. Do you even know how long you've been haunting me?" His mouth brushes her again, gently, over the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw, the flutter of her pulse, which smells delicious, deep and floral, her scent.

His cock aches against his zipper.

"Fuck." This time Daphne groans, sinking further into the couch, and feels herself giggle softly in disbelief more than she's actually aware of making the sound herself. "You've been haunted?" She challenges, eyes burning with courage now that she's heard his confession. Heard him beg. Did he really just beg for her? "Do you know how long I put off taking your class because I didn't know if I could even concentrate around you?"

Using the opportunity of her gently reclining body, Santiago leans in for the catch. "I never could," he murmurs into the hollow of her throat, his hands sweeping her skirt up, revealing her pretty legs, and god her thighs, so plush and luscious in his hands. He takes a moment to stroke there, brush the hem of her panties with his thumbs. "Never. You came in with Eros and made me Apollo." One thumb slips gently under the gusset of her panties. "Are you running, little nymph, hm?"

"Fuck—I—no, I—I don't even think my legs work now," she huffs, all at once tense as a bowstring with desire and measurably more relaxed as the reality of the man she's wanted forever finally touching her exactly where she wants him.

Well, not exactly. But it's not going to take long to get there at the rate they're going.

"What should I..." Daphne's head falls back on the sofa cushion as his thumb strokes her slit and she moans. "Santiago is a lot of syllables to moan."

"Santi. You can call me Santi from now on," he murmurs, removing his thumb from her panties only to twist the thin white cotton things, Jesus, so fucking wet, around his fingers and slide them down, down. He tosses them to the side and shucks off her high heeled boots while he's there, his eyes locked on where she glistens for him, needs him. "But you can call out any god you want to, bonita." He flicks his gaze to hers and smirks. "Show me how much you were paying attention, yeah?"

If she can even remember a single name from his class at this point she'll be shocked, and the cool air of his house on her overheated cunt is enough to have her squirming instinctively underneath him. Her brain has pretty much given up the ghost already, overstimulated in the very best way possible far before the rest of her body feels the same. Although she has a feeling that it will get there. "Santi..." Trying it out, there is a sweetness on her tongue and heaviness in her core that really is just a whine waiting to break free. Daphne's hands have found their way to his shirt front, fumbling to free the buttons even while she's nearly shaking with desire. "If you get to touch me, I want to touch you, too."

His lips find hers again, almost impatient to taste her again. "You can touch me, I want you to," he mutters against her lips, lifting her blouse hem from her skirt as she takes care of his buttons. Santiago doesn't pause, doesn't make it easy for her or for himself, drowning himself in the touch of her, the sweet little noises emanating from her throat, the ones taking a running leap on the way to begging for everything he's ready to give. He lifts her shirt over her head and begins tugging down her skirt an inch at a time, his fingers dragging slowly over her hips, her now bare legs.

Nothing is exactly torn away, not specifically, but the pile of clothing that collects beside his living room sofa accumulates quickly and haphazardly — shirts and sweaters and everything else discarded blindly as they drown in kissing each other and swallowing those moans that make their way to the surface over and over again. With that building freedom Daphne finds a buried courage — not that she is a timid lover by any means, but there is an eagerness below the surface here that she hasn’t felt in so long. When the only thing left between them is the flimsy pair of boxers that do nothing to disguise how achingly hard he is, Daph bites down on his bottom lip to pull a groan out of him and soothes it away by sucking on the same spot as her fingers slip under the waistband of his last remaining piece of clothing.

"Fuck," he hisses, hips jumping forward so that the weeping tip of his cock brushes against her hand and he groans. He sits up straighter, caught in a web, aching to touch her – at least take his boxers off, fuck – but loathe to move away from her curious little hand. He settles for sitting up on his knees, staring at the place she's touching him, watching her explore him as though in a trance.

Taking advantage of the momentary shift, Daphne sits up along with him and nudges Santi backward so that he is on his back now instead of her. His curls are mussed and his eyes are so black with lust that he looks positively debauched before she’s even had a chance to touch him very much. Once he’s on his back, though, Daphne hooks her thumbs in his boxers and peels them away, groaning at the sight of him. Harder than diamonds and leaking precum like an eager teenager, a sly smirk rides across her face knowing she did that to him. “I want to suck your cock,” she admits, gaze flickering between his length and his blackened eyes. “You have no idea how many hours I’ve spent imagining sucking your cock under that desk in your office.”

Santiago closes his eyes a moment. Is he fucking dreaming? Or is his most fucked fantasy coming true before his eyes?

"Probably almost as many as what I've spent imagining what that wet little pussy tastes like." His voice is a low rasp, but he pulls himself together enough to halt her hand on his throbbing dick. His fingers squeeze around hers, gliding over the rigid shaft slowly, with control. His breath fans over her forehead. "You want this, baby? Hm? Gonna have to give me something in return. Come here," he urges, a low purr, her very own siren. "Come here and give me a little taste, cariño."

“Even Kama had to worship a lover in order to find his release,” Daph breathes, having spent an entire semester doodling images of the Hindu love god’s sugarcane bow and bird companions in her notes while thinking of all the various ways her professor could be worshipped.

"Kama was burnt alive by Shiva, sweetheart, and I don't plan on doing any different to you. Come here, that's it." Santi helps Daphne turn in his lap, both of them facing the wall. He guides her hips over his face as he lies back on the couch. Thank fuck it was big enough, for this and more, and then her perfect pussy is hovering over his face, tantalizing him. At heart? Santiago likes torturing himself, loves the thrill of giving into pleasure. Perhaps that too, is why he waited so long to take this girl into his bed. Perhaps that's why he's slow and sure as he spreads her lips, flattens his tongue, and tastes her indulgently, from clit to hole.

Daphne's momentary flash of composure is gone again as soon as he tastes her. Her legs shake on either side of his head, thighs pressed to his ears so her moans are muffled but it isn't on purpose. It's just been so long since she had a man between her legs who knew what the fuck he was doing that just having her clit noticed is a vast improvement. Daphne's body sags momentarily before she is shifting all her weight to one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock to stroke his base with the pressure that he showed her – the pressure he likes – while she takes as much of him as she can into her mouth.

When he moans it's with a growl into her pussy she can feel vibrate all the way up through her lungs.

She's not fucking sitting, and he knows it's because she's still, however minutely now that her moans are ringing sweet and clear across his living room, in her head instead of fully in her perfect body the way he wants. Licking up her slick almost lazily, he drags his nails lightly up the outsides of her thighs before firmly catching her hips in hand and pressing her into his waiting mouth, his evening stubble scraping across her folds. Only then does he give her a real reason to moan, encouraging her to grind while his laps at her clit with his tongue, filling his hands with all the gorgeous skin he can reach.

"Sit," he grunts, "Fuck, baby, I wanna to go to the field of fucking reeds with this pussy on my face, come on, you can do it, give it to me."

Come on, carińo, I know you can come for me, such a good fucking girl, he thinks, his brain a hazy lightning storm at the sensation of her hot throat squeezing around him as she swallows. Fuck, he could let her do this all night, but he's hungry for her pleasure and he's so close, he can taste it. Santiago lifts her hips with a final loud suck and trails a finger around her slit, teasing, almost pressing, but only just, his thumb running circles around her clit. With a deep breath he lifts his mouth, slips his tongue and a single finger inside, fucking into her with slow, measured movements.

The overwhelming pleasure of having more than just the tip of his tongue inside her pussy has Daphne moaning so earnestly that she pulls off of him cock with a lurid pop. "Dammit—I—fuck, I'm going to cum—Santi, baby, oh my f—" The shaking of her legs and the coil in her core twist down on each other so her thighs tighten and he breathes into her like he's going to devour her whole as she falls apart at the seams.

Oh yes. He really likes hearing her moaning that, but not more than the way she gives in as her orgasm rocks through her, grinding her hips down, into his waiting, eager mouth, helping her ride him through it until the aftershocks ease. His voice is barely a scrape when he lifts her up, his aching cock swinging between his legs as he presses forward, eager for her mouth. "Did so good, baby, such a good girl for me. I need to fuck you. Need to fuck you, baby. How do you want it?"

"Any way." Daphne gasps, trying to wrap her head around any kind of how that's more artful than just sinking down on him right here and now. When she does wrap her head around it, though, she groans in a less ethereal tone. "Let me grab a condom." Like any sensible, sexually active college girl, she carries one in her regular purse. Emergency cock wrap, if you will. She just never thought she'd actually need it.

"Wait, I got it." He scoots up a moment, digging into the small table beside the couch. From the drawer Santi draws out the foil pouch and rips it open, quickly rolling it on before turning his attention back on Daphne, who's watching him with drowned eyes, eyes deep and longing and still so lovely.

"Lie back, sweetheart. You ready for me?" He slowly glides the head over her silky wet folds, smearing her slick across his tip.

Deciding she absolutely does not need to know how many other girls have been fucked on this couch -- possibly at the end of their own courses -- Daph pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss him fiercely. Tonight is not to be wasted. Tonight is to be a fantastic memory. "I'm ready." Her nails drag down the base of his scalp, having caught a near purr from him earlier when she did the same. "I want you to fuck me, Santi."

Almost before his name is out of her mouth, he's pushing inside her with a low rumble, his head falling back slightly into her hands. Her nails scrape sensation over his scalp and down his spine, and her cunt is licking flames over him, so warm and perfect he almost comes right fucking there, but halts, breathing damp against her lips, his teeth nipping her lip possessively.

They hold like that, frozen together in the heat of the moment as he regains his composure and she adjusts to the stretch and fill and thickness of his cock inside her. The only movement, in this long moment of coming together, is the languid slide and tangle of their tongues together as they drown in the intimacy of feverish kisses.

Gradually, Santi comes down enough to get restless, eager again. He nips and bites down over her jaw and descends on her throat, sucking a mark low on her collarbone as his hands pay some long overdue attention to her pretty, heaving tits. Mine.

When the mark on her neck is soothed with his tongue, he sits up slowly, his eyes a glittering black, his lips parted. He looks like he's about to devour her. He takes one of her calves in his hand, eyes never leaving hers, tipping her knee up towards her head and then out, spread wide for him. He grips her ankle in a warm hand. Then, with a grunt, he's pulling back and pitching forward hard enough for their skin to clap obscenely, fast enough to make them both soon begin to tremble.

The position that he's in has him almost entirely out of her reach, just close even to graze her nails over his chest as he thrusts into her at a pace frantic enough to make them both pant and heave. Her back arches off the couch with a keen and her hands grapple with the couch cushions for purchase to hold on tight as Santi fucks her so deeply and insistently that she can practically feel him all the way up in her throat.

"Gripping me so fuckin' tight, baby, Jesus," he says through his teeth, his jaw tight, streaks of pleasure raking down his chest with her sharp, clinging nails. Keeping his relentless pace, he bends forward, pushing her thigh up, testing her limit. When he's low enough he seizes her mouth with his, grinding deep.

"One more for me, pretty girl, one more," he whispers huskily, his other hand skimming down her body to rub at her clit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, so good baby, oh my fucking god—" Something in Daphne's mind short circuits, and the rambling begins in earnest the higher and higher she climbs toward a second orgasm. Tripping over her own tongue and throwing her hands up over her head as he slams into her so hard that either they are moving up the length of the sofa or the entire sofa is moving, Daph is completely lost in her pleasure. That volcano of pleasure building in her core is damn near ready to explode and the only thing she wants more than to erupt is to take him with her.

The second her expression breaks and she cries out for him, he's gone. He thinks he's done even before she clamps down on his cock like a goddamned vice, ripping his orgasm from him in a half dozen hard but increasingly languid strokes.

His upper body grows heavy, and with a groan he grinds in deeply just once more – never mind why – and leans his forehead on her soft breast, pulling out of her with a sigh. His entire body is basking, floating. If she puts her hands in his hair again he might even fall asleep.

There's a moment of quiet as he ties off and disposes of the condom, and for a split-second Santi disappears around a corner but he comes back with a warm, damp kitchen cloth to clean them both up with before curling back around her on the couch. "Goddamn," she huffs, giggling softly to herself as his arms come around her.

"Tell me about it," he says sleepily, flipping the throw blanket over the two of them as they settle, kiss, explore lazily what before had been greedily consumed. "Still not sure I'm not dreaming," he says, only half-joking, tracing her lips with a smile. "Did I really get so lucky?"

"I'm not sure how you're the starstruck one out of the two of us," Daphne teases, even though it's through a thin veil of honesty.

"Bonita, I've been increasingly starstruck all semester," he chuckles. "You have so much to look forward to. Shit, you're definitely going farther places than I am. I'm just happy to be here," he presses a kiss to her left tit, "To enjoy-" to her right nipple- "The satisfaction of being right." He kisses her forehead and studies her, his lids heavy. "Do you need anything before you fall asleep, baby girl? You wanna sleep here or in bed? I can't let you bike home this late, querida, so don't even try. Besides, you can shower here, my plumbing is fine." He smirks here, as if anticipating the swat he's earned himself.

"It's not that late." Daphne wrinkles her nose at herself. The protest was just good manners. She doesn't actually want to leave. She wants to wrap up in him and breathe in this comfort for as long as humanly possible. When he levels her with a disapproving look, Daph just ends up grinning. "Let's go to bed," she suggests, catching his lips as he drags them along her jaw. "And when I wake you up in the morning with my lips wrapped around your cock again, you'll be glad your back isn't sore."

The laugh bursts out of his chest with delight, easy and real. "All right, baby, all right, and what makes you think I won't beat you to it?" Santi pulls her to her feet, wrapping the soft blanket securely around her shoulders before guiding her upstairs with a hand at the small of her back.

No matter which one of them beats the other two it, they both know they aren't done. Whether it's a weekend, a week, a month, or even more. This night is just the beginning.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

#Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac character fanfiction #Oscar Isaac fanfic #Santiago Garcia #Santiago 'Pope' Garcia #Santiago Garcia x OC #Santiago Garcia x female!OC #Triple Frontier #college professor au #professor!Santiago Garcia #pwp #really there is barely any plot here #and we're not sorry

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concreteburialplot · 2 months

Text

Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS-

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable.

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before.

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high?

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was.

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off.

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too.

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.”

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs.

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand.

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words.

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?”

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement.

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question.

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?”

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock.

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago.

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth.

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too.

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline.

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue.

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to.

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now.

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.”

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…”

-Next Day-

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago.

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission.

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her.

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer.

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster.

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine.

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

“Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again.

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe? shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me.

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line.

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us.

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk.

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon.

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it.

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble.

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?”

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers?

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this – especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky.

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you.

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once?

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy.

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle.

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be.

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body.

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space.

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot.

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep.

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out.

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness.

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one.

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush.

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one.

“It’s empty.”

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

#i have edited this so many times and it got so long #sorry if there’s errors or is bad idk 😭#im honestly just really sick of editing and looking at it #longest chapter i’ve ever written for any of my series-es ever #as always lots of plot lots of dialogue #concreteburialplot works #intertwined series #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #noah x nick #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah x nicholas #noah x nicholas fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

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everythingmp3 · 22 days

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞

𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

after having given into the pull you feel towards each other, both you and Tess are left to deal with all the intense emotions of possibly falling in love: the thrill, the joy, the courage it takes to fully open your hearts up. you spend a few days growing even closer, figuring out how to let go of all fear and embrace the bliss of having each other.

author’s note: (part 2 of this fic!). I’d definitely go read at least the description of part one before reading this one!originally I wasn’t gonna make it multiple parts but some really sweet feedback made me go back and this is basically an exploration of the early stage of falling in love, it delves much deeper into both of their feelings but there’s also some humor and lightness in there, Joel has a few appearances, it’s pretty long so there’s a lot in there. also again I never played the game, this is about Anna’s Tess! enjoy <3

warnings: minors dni. smut (reader receiving, oral), some discussions of heavier personal issues but nothing dark

wordcount: 13.7k

the next morning Tess woke up the same exact way she´d woken up all the mornings before in Jackson: right around 7:30, the sun casting the same shadows onto her floor, laying on the same side of the bed, but she felt completely different. usually she felt nothing that early in the day, but that morning as she came to her senses, the images of what had happened the night before, of you, immediately flooded her mind and left her in a state of blissful half-consciousness, a daydream that made her stay in bed a little longer.

at the same time Tess also felt a quiet sense of dread, knowing that she would have to be subtle about her feelings for you whenever others were around, and she was self aware enough to know that she was anything but subtle; once she let herself grow attached to someone, it went from indifference to obsession in no time, she was not one for “taking it slow”, she´d never been, but thankfully she had a feeling you weren´t either.

still, it had been a while since anyone had gotten through to her the way you had, since she´d let anyone close at all, so all of a sudden she remembered just how intense she was when she truly cared. part of it was a deep need to protect you, to make sure you felt safe because of her presence, even when she was not in the room with you, her standards for what she should be for those she loved were high, even more so with you than with anyone before and Tess realized very quickly how incapable she was of being casual about what happened, how unthinkable it was to just see where it would go without already feeling devoted to you.

when she thought back to how you had looked at her the night before, how you´d put your heart in her hands, trusting she´d know what to do with it, it almost made her lose her mind with the desire to go out there and find you and have you in her arms again, to feel your body relax into hers again, to give you the relief you so clearly needed and for some miraculous reason found in her presence. but of course it wasn´t all that noble, deep down there was also a simple visceral aspect to it, the vision of your body under hers was burned into her mind and no amount of self control could conceal the truth: that she wanted to get her hands on you again, desperately.

sitting at the edge of her bed that morning, it all came crashing over her, so after about ten minutes of staring into space she told herself to get a grip, got up, and splashed some cold water on her face before joining Joel for breakfast downstairs.

as she walked into the kitchen she could see Joel pouring two cups of coffee and she was glad he had his back turned, so she could brace herself for a second before talking. Tess sat down at the table and Joel wordlessly put the cup down before taking his place opposite her, leaning back and taking a sip as he regarded her with a knowing grin, “so... sleep well? any sweet dreams?” his voice lowered for emphasis on those last two words, she shot him a slightly stern look, “absolutely none I´d share with you” he knew she was one for overthinking so he was trying to get her to relax a little, make the mood lighthearted, “right, fair enough. but you do look.. I don´t know you usually look more tired at this hour, you have a certain glow”, she took a sip and watched him gesture at her, her eyes narrowed, “a glow? are you trying to be a poet, Miller?”, he kept looking at her, amused, “no I just mean-”, she finished his thought, “you mean the “this person finally got laid” glow? that one?”, not expecting that he laughed, “hey you said it not me” throwing his hands up theatrically.

she shook her head, finally cracking a smile too, “yeah I really don´t know what the fuck is happening to me Joel” she admitted, drumming her hands on the table, spaced out for a moment, he leaned forward to talk more seriously then, “well. it´s simple isn´t it”, she knew what he meant, “you like her”, she didn´t look at him but made a “hmm” sound of agreement, fidgeting with her hair.

Joel was almost endeared by seeing his jaded friend so uncharacteristically out of it, nothing made her nervous back in the QZ, ever, not gunfire, not a group of men that are were a few heads taller than her, not even while getting beaten up did she ever seem afraid, he could count on one hand the amount of times he´d seen her lose her cool, so watching her hard facade crumble because of a girl, it made him discover a side of her he hadn´t seen in all the years they´d known each other, and it was moving to him in a way, that of all things love would be the thing to force her to her knees, to render her defenseless.

“I think I should keep it to myself right? I mean we should be discreet about it?” he considered it, “I mean. I will say I have seen much stranger couples around town, truly some odd fuckin´pairs that make you two look boring as hell, but I won´t lie, it would probably take a little time for people to.. you know get it. what you two have”. she understood, that was what she´d thought, “yeah I think it might be smart to keep it private. even though I´d fucking hate for her to feel like I´m ashamed or something, that´s the last thing I am. I mean fuck, if anything I´d wanna brag”, he crossed his arms, shifting his posture, “can´t blame you, I think you could get some really priceless reactions out of the younger guys who tried their luck with her, when they realize that their biggest competition was some strange out of town woman”. Tess laughed then, feeling some tension leave her body, enjoying that age old feeling of not having to censor herself at all around him, “yeah. that would be pretty fucking entertaining.”. he downed the rest of his coffee and said one last thing on the issue, “whatever you decide in the end, just know, if anyone ever does give you two trouble, I´ll take care of it, alright? they won´t do it twice.” since they´d been in Jackson, Joel had turned into a more gentle, polite version of himself to blend in, that morning was the first time his old self came back to the surface, the first genuine threat of violence Tess had heard from him since they´d arrived, and it felt good, to know that he was still always on her side, always ready to jump to her defense, even when she was being reckless and getting into something that he easily could have judged her for.

“so, we´re starting on the attic today right?” Tess said as she got up and put away the cups, “yes, I think it needs a paint job, the windows are a little fucked, and some floorboards are loose, but other than that it should be pretty nice in no time”, since they´d arrived in Jackson a few weeks earlier they´d been planning on how to fix up their house, both of them eager to prove that they were capable of proper physical labor. “but it´s still early, there´s not rush, if you wanna.. you know get some air, walk around before being stuck up there” it was probably a good idea for her to clear her head, so she got her jacket and stepped out.

it was a foggy morning, she couldn´t even see all the way down the street as she slowly made her way towards the center of town. of course she knew there was a chance of running into you but she still felt a rush of adrenaline when she reached the outside of the dining hall and saw you sitting there on a bench by yourself, you didn´t see her as she came closer, so for a moment she just stood there, looking at you, reminding herself that the urge to embrace or kiss you would have to wait til later, telling herself to keep her instincts in check before briefly resting her hand on your shoulder to make you turn around. the moment you looked at her and smiled, Tess remembered just how little it took for you make her feel warm, even in the icy morning air, and you saw it, how glad she was to see you, for a moment it felt like an extended dream, like something you´d imagined, but it was real, her touch brief but the impact lingering on after.

“hey!” you said, your tone different than if anyone else had stood there, excitement in there that was not typical for you, shifting the way you were sitting to make space for her, “come, please, sit” she nodded, “so, how are you?” she asked, sitting down next to you, “better than ever actually, for some reason” you said, an ironic inflection, seeing the satisfied look on her face as she answered, “yeah, me too”, the town was still waking up and hardly anyone was around, so you allowed yourself to reach for her hand, her grip on you strong and reassuring, the warmth of her palm reminding you of where else on your body it had rested the night before a slight flush on your face as you practically beamed at each other in silence, a shared moment of knowing exactly what the other person was thinking, no words were needed to know that it included things like i wish i could kiss you right now, i thought about you before falling asleep and after waking up, i am a little nervous, i have no idea when i last felt like this, if i ever did, it was all there in the air between you, locking eyes was enough to communicate it.

once the moment passed you let go of her hand and leaned back, speaking first, “so, tell me, what are your plans today?”, while moving your leg so it would touch hers, two people sitting like that was not suspicious, it made you creative, the limitation of physical affection you could allow yourself in public, and admittedly part of it was hot, she grinned, feeling what you were doing “well, our house needs a little fixing up still, so I think we´ll be busy with that. and you?”, she kept her hands to herself but she was dying to reach out and caress your cheek, the way you were looking at her was killing her, all soft and open.“well” you gestured behind you “I´ll be in the kitchen all day. I´m on cooking duty”, “really? wow, didn´t figure you for a chef” she hadn´t pictured that as one of your jobs, “should I be offended by you sounding so surprised that I can cook?”, she laughed, “oh come on, you know what I mean, it´s hard to imagine the very limited resources in the QZ inspiring someone to learn how to cook”, she was right of course, after the outbreak the philosophy surrounding food was mostly be thankful for what you have, parents hardly bothered teaching kids elaborate culinary skills anymore, meals were a matter of survival, nothing more. “yeah I know, but I had my reasons to try my hand” she looked at you in a way that said “keep going”, “well, after my parents died and I started living with my friend her family I felt kind of self conscious about being there at times, so I guess becoming the family chef made me feel like I was useful” you smiled then, remembering something about that time, but she was hung up on the word useful, a little struck by a teenager thinking they could be considered useless by those taking care of them, it made her suspect your life with your parents hadn´t been all that easy either, it stung a bit, but she didn´t let it show.

“so you´re telling me you were what, 15, 16, using your free time to cook for your household? you really are some kind of angel huh. I was a fucking nightmare at that age”, remembering how people had considered you tough and intimidating was becoming increasingly absurd to her, but you shook your head, “oh don´t be too quick with that assessment, I also got in trouble quite a bit” that intrigued Tess, she leaned closer, her voice lower, that tone that always went straight to your core, “oh really? how so?”, you stared at her, enjoying the genuine interest, “school was tough, I often got detention, always ended up fighting with teachers. I guess I had an authority problem” you mused, leaned your head on your arm then, looking up at her, making it even harder for her to just sit there and not touch you the way she actually wanted.

that last part was funny to her, that you were clearly not a fan of strict rules or being told what to do, including what you´d told her about Jackson being too regulated for you, but then with her you seemed to want exactly that: being taken care of, being told what to do, and she loved the idea of being an exception, that her kind of power was the kind you wanted to submit to, not push back against, it almost humbled her in a sense.“yeah I can picture that, you being too clever for them and getting on their last nerve” a pause then, “but they never seriously hurt you, did they? because I heard some awful stories about the schools in my QZ” a sudden flicker of something dark in her eyes, it was hot to you, but you reassured her, “I mean nothing crazy no. but if they did, what then? would you go out there and find them?” you joked but she didn´t smile, “maybe” you nudged her, “that´s very sweet of you, really”, but you weren´t just amused, it was an unfamiliar feeling, to have someone be that invested in your safety, even considering things that had happened long ago. she loosened up again, still, her sense of protectiveness extended even to your past self, perhaps because she felt a little guilty, that she´d grown up normally and you had to go through a lot as a kid, but in some way it also made her respect you, that you clearly possessed the strength that was required to grow up into a person as beautiful as you were, during the end of the fucking world. she was convinced you were the better person out of the two of you, there was no doubt about it to her, Tess was prideful at times but you made her feel a sense of humility that she liked.

Tess could tell from the look in your eyes that you were were waiting for her to say something, anything, there was something pleading about it and for the second time she felt the urge to touch your face, only stopping her hand mid-air, which didn´t pass you by, you stared at her, still waiting for her to speak, she cleared her throat, “I know I put up a good front but just know it´s kind of killing me right now to sit here like we´re just friends”, you cocked your head, “we aren´t friends?” slightly teasing, she narrowed her eyes, “no. that´s not what I would call it”, a subtle grin on her face, you nodded, “if it makes you feel better I have been trying my best not to lean my head against your shoulder for the past few minutes, so...”, “don´t say that, jesus” she whispered, the image too endearing to her to be unaffected by it, you kept looking at her, not expecting the idea of a simple tender gesture like that to get to her, “yeah I should go I think this isn´t gonna end well if I stay any longer”, she sounded serious about it, and it did thrill you a little, for her to imply that you were irresistible to her. “okay. but um-” she looked at you expectantly, “yeah, what is it?” a sweetness to her tone that she never used with other people, “if you happen to take a break later, feel free to stop by in the kitchen, there´s a backdoor” you pointed to the wall at the back of the building “it´s open, I´ll be right down the hall” she nodded, charmed by your clear desire to see her again as soon as possible, which matched hers, “okay, I´ll see what I can do” briefly touching your hand before getting up, deepening the ache of not being able to hold onto her, looking back down to where you were sitting for a moment, not wanting to leave you yet, watching you bask in the light of her attention, shifting your posture to face her. for second she thought out loud, “god. you´re so pretty..” barely audible but you did hear it, “what was that?” you teased, clearly you had heard it, she shook her head, “okay I am leaving now, you take care sweetheart”.

the next few hours passed quickly, you washed the produce, you sharpened knives, you let some things that would take longer simmer on low heat while chopping others, you were lost in the motions and didn´t register time passing. there was something that you had kept from Tess, which was that the reason you were known around town as someone who worked hard, who was eager to help out with any job at any time, had very little to do with the goodness of your heart.

it was a welcome side effect that people perceived you as diligent and reliable but the reason you took on as much work as you did was simple: it was the only reliable coping skill you had. in other environments your depressive moods and darker states of mind would have driven you to different methods of numbing yourself, but there was no secret drug scene in Jackson, the one available substance was alcohol and you were not one to drink on your own, there was no tv or other mindless entertainment to turn to, not even healthier ways of clearing your head like taking hour long walks, so the one thing you go sucked into was working yourself to a point of exhaustion, to a point where no thoughts could form anymore. the years in Jackson had been marked by various periods of deep despair, loneliness, and hopelessness, so to escape time, to escape your mind, you got into the habit of doing whatever you could to be occupied as much as possible: chopping wood for fireplaces, cleaning out the stables, sweeping the streets, helping people around their homes and in their gardens, cooking, anything, oftentimes doing so much in one day and forgetting food and drinking to a point of almost passing out on your doorstep multiple times at night.

people didn´t notice, you were good at stoically handling the pain, but it had worn you down, and even meeting Tess, being so flooded with joy, it didn´t magically kill the instinct to overextend yourself. usually people worked in shifts in the kitchen but you always told them you liked handling both lunch and dinner and to do it on your own, they bought the lie that it was relaxing to you, and some parts of it were, but you knew you´d have to stop overdoing it or eventually something ugly would happen. still, meeting Tess in the morning had left you in a better state of mind than any of the days before, that morning and early afternoon you were constantly zoned out thinking back to all the things she´d said, all the glances she´d given you, the details filling your body with a constant buzz, a lovestruck expression on your face that nobody was around to witness.

around 2 pm Tess suggested to Joel that they should take a break and told him she´d be back in half an hour. the noises of the kitchen concealed any noise you could have picked up on as Tess walked down the hall that you´d mentioned earlier, so she saw you before you saw her as she stopped in the door frame for a moment, just watching you chop something faster and more skillfully than she ever could; other people got butterflies when they saw their lover with kids, Tess suddenly felt it as she saw you handling a potential weapon with such ease.

she knocked to announce herself and you turned and waved her over, “oh thank god, you came!”, the enthusiasm was endearing to her, she slowly walked over to where you were standing, leaning back against a counter next to you, that painfully attractive she always had, “that´s a nice thing to hear walking into a room”, she smiled at you, taking in the sight of your face all flushed from the humid heat of the kitchen, your hair a little messed up, her knuckles straining with the suppressed need to pull you close. your gaze fell to a few streaks of white paint on her jeans that hadn´t been there earlier, you pointed at them, “so, how is that going, hm?” eyeing her, tilting your head, “not too bad, I have a lovely constant background noise of an old man complaining about his knees” she joked dryly, you laughed, “okay I see. well, I wouldn´t complain if I was in his place, getting to watch you do all that” your voice a little sultry then, she liked that you kept flirting with her even though you already clearly had her, “is that so?”, you nodded, “but I wouldn´t be much help I´m afraid, I don´t know shit about renovating”, “oh that´s fine, you could just sit there and look pretty for me”, she said, purposely drawing the words out in a low suggestive tone, watching your expression change, staring into your soul, enjoying the feeling of seeing your expression change.

you were less timid than her, more willing to take a risk in that moment, so you dropped your knife and stepped over to where she was standing, your hands finding the sides of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine from the unexpected touch, before leaning in and kissing her the way you´d wanted to that morning, feeling her grab your face hard as she leaned into it with quite some force, both of you clearly having missed the other one even though you´d seen each other mere hours before, there was an immediate neediness to the kiss, you were making up for what you couldn´t do before kissing each other over and over, your lips turning a darker shades of red, swelling a little, her fingers in your hair, getting soft sighs out of you that drove her to deepen the kiss, just for a moment, just to hear something a little closer to a moan, she was being reckless and she knew it, but she couldn´t stop herself, and you were too wrapped up in it to deny her, chest to chest with her but still pressing yourself against her harder, until you both needed air and separated, throwing a glance to the door to make sure nobody was there, but you were alone still.

you stepped back, straightening out your clothes and smiling with your gaze cast to the floor, hers on your side profile as she wiped her mouth, trying to breathe and get her heartbeat to a normal state again, “I think I should abandon all this, so I can go back to your place with you, right?” she laughed, “absolutely yes.”, wishing it wasn´t just a joke. “oh by the way” you continued, more earnest then, still a little dizzy from the kiss, “I didn´t mention this earlier but if there´s anything you like to eat, tell me, and I´ll do it next time”, she nodded, “okay that´s sweet of you, I´ll think of something, but how about you don´t prepare it for everyone in town, do it for me at home instead” you grinned, realizing that she didn´t like the idea of everyone else being part of your gesture of affection, “you don´t like sharing, do you?” you weren´t talking about the food, her answer wasn´t about that either, she nodded, grinning “yeah, that´s right” her arms crossed, “alright. I´ll save my best meal for you and you alone, how about that?” you said, which was an easy way to win her over: playing into her possessiveness. “perfect. and I´ll find a way to repay you of course”, a suggestiveness to the words, “I´m sure you will” you said, leaning back, smiling. Tess realized you two should probably plan when to really see each other again, not just in passing, “I suppose you´ll be pretty tired from all this tonight, so how about you get a good night sleep later and then tomorrow you can come over in the evening and we can do.. well whatever we want really. I´ll kick my roommate out” that got a laugh out of you, “alright, yes, sounds good to me”.

part of you wanted to protest, to suggest that you should come over later that night but you knew you would probably be better company once you were energized again. Tess moved to leave and you exchanged quick goodbyes before you turned around to continue your work, but before she could exit the door she looked back at you, and couldn´t go just yet. you stood with your back turned to her, and it was too tempting, so she walked back over, stopping once she stood right behind you.

you felt her presence intensely but didn´t turn around, waiting to see what she was doing, a second later you felt her arms wrapping around you from behind, just below your waist, to gently pull you back against her front side, and the moment she did that she saw you putting down the knife and rest your palms flat against the counter, for some reason she knew your eyes were closed even though she couldn´t see it. she leaned close enough to your neck to leave a light kiss, your breath heavy by then, “see you tomorrow sweet girl” she whispered, counting on the fact that she´d just given you a glimpse of what to look forward to, which had worked of course, it took everything in you not to turn around and beg her to stay but you forced yourself let the feeling crash over you, to take it without breaking, so you let her hold you for a few more moments, trying desperately to soak the warmth of her hands up, before she let you go and vanished.

walking back home, the joy Tess felt reminded her of how she often had complicated feelings about joy after the outbreak. for a long time she´d been tormented with nightmares about loved ones she´d lost, nightmares about them calling her unworthy of her survival, calling her selfish for moving on, for not being destroyed by grief, for trying to build something new for herself; she´d often woken up in a cold sweat feeling horrible about herself and ironically enough it often happened after she´d had a particularly good day. the thing was, that as she got older she realized that despite all the pain, she´d been afforded a freedom that she wouldn´t have had in her previous life. at first she felt awful for even thinking about it, but it was the truth, before she´d have grown old as a mother and wife, she´d have had very clear positions as a woman, duties to fulfill whether she felt like it or not, but somehow it had all turned out differently; there she was, after getting over the worst of it all with nobody to answer to, no spouse, no child, not even an employer, she was free to be whatever she wanted to be, and it wasn´t lost on her that that was in its own strange way a lucky position to be in.

for a long time she´d let it get to her, the fear that she might be a horrible person for rejoicing in a freedom that was connected to a horrible loss, but that day when she walked back after having met you, none of the guilt was there, the joy she felt was light and untainted, it was solid and calm

Tess knew it was your impact in large parts that had taken away that heaviness, the way you looked at her made it much harder to see herself in a bad light, the fact someone like you, who rarely trusted anyone with their weaker side, was so ready to let her in, to accept her care, it made Tess feel like she had a purpose, like the impact she would leave on the world might not just be one of violence. during the years of Joel and her fighting their way through weeks and months lost in a haze of shared pain and rage, she´d given up on the idea of ever feeling like a good person, or even just a decent one, but when she held you, when she felt you leaning in to kiss her, when she sensed your ease around her, knowing how reluctant you usually were to get close to others, she felt like there was a goodness in her that had remained in tact, that you were drawing out of the depths of her because you needed it.

Tess realized that sometimes self contempt did not matter, if someone saw something worth loving in her, who was she to tell them their perception was off?

while she was thinking all that, you were having a moment of reflection yourself. once she left the kitchen you just stood there the way you´d stood before, bracing yourself against the counter, breathing a little unevenly, and for a good few minutes you didn´t continue your work because your mind was racing, your body was on fire, and you had to calm down somehow.

at first you couldn´t identify what it was, but then you realized: your body had no idea how to handle intense joy, intense feelings of love and affection for someone, how to handle desire and ecstatic feelings of want, none of it, because you had never felt it before, it was like a new chemical had entered your system and an alarm was going off. of course you´d had moments of relaxation or contentment before, you´d had good days and you´d laughed and gathered sweet memories at times, but it had been years and years since you´d felt genuine joy, the kind that alters your whole physicality, your whole being. for so long you had lived in a state of constant numbness, you felt like a ghost at times, you were tethered to nothing, no family, no friends, no lover, not even a hometown or material possessions that made you feel grounded, nothing had really mattered to you, you floated from place to place, in Jackson you faded into the background, stopped engaging socially, spent nights on your own, days distracted by work, and then, all of a sudden, a rupture. Tess came and you were stunned into a state of openness, it felt like your body was coming out of hiding, like every part of you was hungry to feel, to feel everything, every little detail of what her presence could evoke in you, but it was not without pain at first, that process of letting yourself be alive again.

there was a fear in you and as you stood there thinking you knew why: for the first time in your life you had something to lose.

you´d gotten used to indifference so now that you felt so deeply for Tess, you almost panicked imagining a potential future without her, the worst case scenario played out in your head, her and Joel getting bored and leaving, her being gone one day, because now that you´d gotten a taste of love, you knew going back to living without it would eviscerate you.

there was no going back and you had to understand that the fear was a positive kind, that part of caring was risking your heart, the risk of immeasurable loss, which was worth it, always, in order to experience immeasurable love. after a while you calmed down, focusing on the spot where Tess´s hand had lingered mere moments before, banishing anxious thoughts and letting your mind flood with the memory of her body behind yours, her scent, her lips, and it worked, your cheeks flushed and you felt your muscles relax again.

by the time you were done cleaning up at night everyone else had left the building already and it was dark out. your limbs were aching as you walked outside and realized that it was pouring rain. for a moment you just stood there, letting the cool water soothe your exhausted body, not caring about your hair or clothes getting wet. once you walked down the road, it dawned on you that nothing seemed worse to you in that moment than going home to an empty, cold, dark house, nobody waiting for you, nobody to ask you if you´re fine, and you tried to fight the instinct, you did, but you knew where you were headed when you started walking faster. the plan had been to go to Tess the next night, to go there refreshed and in a more appealing state, but you had a visceral need to just see her, to be with her even if it would just be ten minutes, you were broken down in a way, the weeks before you´d overdone it, and the one thing you could think of that might make you feel steadier, less at risk of falling apart, was Tess´s strength, her way of touching you that infused you with calm, with warmth.

you made your way up to Tess and Joel´s door and tried your best to not feel ashamed as you knocked, ringing the bell seemed a little rude at that hour, hoping and praying it wouldn´t be him who answered the door, and it wasn´t; shortly after you knocked, Tess opened the door, somehow less surprised to see you than you thought, wearing an oversized black sweater that suited her, her light eyes shining brighter with the contrast, and the sight of her alone could have made you cry for some reason, the gentle smile as she leaned against the door frame and said “well hello there”.

you immediately tried to apologize for your unannounced appearance, uttering something like “sorry I know it´s late and we said tomorrow but -” but before you could finish the sentence she shook her head and waved you in, “don´t apologize, you can come by whenever you feel like it, alright?” she wanted nothing less than for you to feel hesitant around her, you nodded, feeling a little relieved as you walked in.

once you were inside and the light hit you, she saw something that others might not have picked up on because you did conceal it somewhat well, but not well enough for Tess; she could read in the way you were holding your body, the way your eyes looked that there was a fragility to you in that moment and it made her feel violently protective but she kept it in check, not smothering you with it, not yet.

for a moment you were just standing there, unsure what to do, waiting for her to tell you, but before doing anything else she went in to embrace you, a proper hello, the kind she had denied herself that morning, her arms firm around your back, yours around her waist, your head resting on her shoulder for a moment, breathing in her fresh scent, you could tell that she´d just showered and it felt so good that you almost turned it into a desperate tight hug, the kind where you cling to someone, where it´s blatantly obvious how much you really need their comfort, but you restrained yourself, melting into her for a few seconds, feeling her hands lightly run over the fabric of your jacket, soaking up her the feeling of her being wrapped around you and letting out deep shaky breath, that she noticed, before untangling yourself and smiling at her, a tired smile, but a very genuine one.

the urge to cry was still there, that thing of affection almost being painful when you´re in in desperate need of it, but you didn´t. she saw it and it worried her but she let it pass, giving you a moment to adjust, taking your hand in hers, “come on, let´s get you comfortable” she led you to the living room, it was just as you remembered, inviting and cozy, the faint light of the fire and a small lamp in the corner of the room, the smell of something like a scented candle, “here drink” Tess ordered as she held up a cup of tea that had been standing on the coffee table long enough to not be hot anymore, “I think you need this more than me”. you gladly accepted, it was herbal with a slight taste of honey and you imagined that she´d already taken a sip, liking the idea of indirectly kissing her by having your lips where hers had been before.

Tess sat down on the couch and moved closer to you once you sat next to her, her hand on your cheek then which you immediately leaned into. she caressed you for a moment, studying your face from up close, enamored, “you´re exhausted, hm?” a low, sympathetic tone, “yeah.. but this is helping” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, for a moment she let you close your eyes, holding your face in her palm, before her hand moved down to your own, holding it reassuringly as she spoke “wanna tell me what´s going on sweetie?” she asked, patient, giving you time to think of answer while you laced your fingers through hers and rested your head against the couch cushion.

“yeah. it´s just-” your voice was shaky which embarrassed you a little, but she encouraged you, “go on, I´ll understand”, you knew she would, so you went on.“well I already told you about not being too happy here in general since I came here, right?” she nodded “yes”, listening intently, still holding your hand, absentmindedly running her thumb over your skin, leaning in so you wouldn´t have to speak too loudly, making it more intimate, “the past few months it just got worse and worse, before you guys came it got pretty bad. the thing is I can´t cope when I have too much time on my hands, I really can´t be alone with my thoughts for too long, so I often just kept working and working because there are no other distractions around here” you spared her the gnarlier details, “and yeah it just wore me down, and I don´t how to fucking stop that´s the thing, I don´t know what to do Tess, I don´t know how to just live and be present” your ability to mask your pain had gone away, you seemed genuinely shaken up once you got done talking, your gaze was not on her, but she wanted you to look at her, so she lifted your head with her fingers, once you looked at her you could tell her expression had turned even more concerned, “and nobody noticed that something was off? nobody was looking out for you?” you shrugged, a sort of defeated look to you.

“I live alone, and well. not everyone has me figured out the way you have” she shook her head, a flicker of anger in her eyes as it dawned on her just how exhausted you truly must be, after years of being on your own with all of that to deal with, she sounded more stern, more intense as she spoke again, leaning in for emphasis, “okay, you listen to me. I know you´re used to being on your own and having nobody to rely on, and I know it´s not easy to give that up, I do, but I´m here now, and we´ll figure it out together. alright? it will be okay” your look of doubt just made her double down “it will. you´re gonna come to me when you don´t wanna be alone with your thoughts and I´ll find a way to distract you” there it was again, her way of putting things like an order, not even giving you the chance to deny her care, so you nodded as she tenderly brushed a strand of hair out of your face,“how about you tell me what´s been on your mind, hm? that´s a start”.

you weren´t used to sharing any of your inner thoughts with someone, so it took you a moment to gather up the courage to be honest, “well, it used to be all kinds of things, dread about not having anything to do with my life here. but it changed. now it´s just one thing really”, that peaked her interest, “and what´s that?”, you paused a moment, debating whether to be that honest, but you wanted at least one person to finally know you to your core, “are you gonna leave again?”, she didn´t expect that question at all so she looked confused as she responded “leave? what...as in leave town? we just moved here like three weeks ago” there was an amused smile on her face, but she realized that you were being dead serious, your expression almost terrified while waiting for a definitive no, it went straight to her heart,“oh sweetie. come here” she said, pulling you closer by your shoulders to hold you, to soothe you by running her fingers through your hair, the moment she did that you felt tears in your eyes, clinging to her, your fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt, “I´m not going anywhere, I promise you that, I´m here for good” she whispered while continuing the gentle touches, she realized then that you had yet to know what it feels like, to be able to trust that things were gonna turn out well, that there wasn´t always some disaster waiting on the horizon. she realized that it was one thing to care for you, it was another to help you grow comfortable with that care, to accept it, to trust that it would last, that you could let go of your old habit of never growing attached to anyone or anything.

you stayed like that for a moment, not full on crying into her shoulder, but shedding a few tears as you calmed down a little, after a while you separated and you went to wipe your eyes, laughing to yourself a little, it almost made her cry too then, to finally see a brighter expression on your face again, that smile that had won her over the moment you introduced yourself to her. “Jesus I´m sorry. I really don´t wanna be a fucking burden, I´ll get a grip now, I´ve just never felt like this about anyone..” you said while making sure your eyes were dry again, but Tess just shook her head, “you really have some self perception issue we need to work on here, getting to know you like this is not some favor I´m doing, it´s the one thing that has made coming here worth it. I´ll have you know that I was teased mercilessly all day today by Joel for constantly smiling to myself.”

your eyes lit up then, you moved over and put your arms around her neck, looking at her from up close, getting a good look at her for the first time that day, her hands moving under your shirt, to your back, “really?” you said, clearly loving that image, your smile turning into a satisfied grin, she was beyond relieved to see the switch in your mood, “hm, you really did a number on me” you kept staring into her eyes, “well, when you left earlier I just stood there for like 15 minutes recovering so..” you confessed, she laughed, “okay so we both just spent the whole day today thinking about each other, huh?”, you leaned down to kiss her then while uttering “guess so”, your hands in her hair, kissing her more heartfelt than earlier, a distinct emotionality to it, not even making out at first but just savoring the feeling of your lips against hers, eventually getting worked up from being pressed against her and breathing heavier, her hands moving up to your face to hold you in place while you kissed but struggled at times to keep it uninterrupted, the intensity leaving you just sighing into each other´s open mouths every now and then, growing hotter from the sounds, the feeling of each others tongues only adding to it once you really abandoned restrained and turned sloppy with it, her briefly, lightly biting your lower lip, drawing a moan out of you as she grabbed your tits through your shirt, remembering that you didn´t mind when she did it a little roughly.

after a while of being all over each other getting lost in the feeling of it, you climbed off of her and Tess realized just how wet your clothes had gotten from the rain earlier, she was so distracted before that it only then struck her, she fussed with your damp shirt, “okay you need to change, this isn´t good, you´ll catch a cold”, but she wasn´t gonna send you home, no way, “wanna come up to my room? I´ll give you something fresh to wear” her voice purposely low and smooth to persuade you, which wasn´t even needed, of course you´d say yes to the promise of seeing her space, getting dressed in something that might have her lingering scent on it, “yes I´d love that” you said, so she got up and pulled you up with her, gesturing for you to follow her.

after you made your up the stairs to the first floor, Tess went in ahead of you to turn on a few small lights, telling you to make yourself at home, and the second you saw her bed, which was considerably bigger than yours, it hit you just how tired you were, so you made your way to the end of the bedrame and sat down with your legs dangling off, taking in the details of her room. it was pretty impressive to you: two large wood paneled windows on each wall that faced the garden, a tree so close to them that you could see its outline even in the dark, a long full body mirror in the corner, a door that seemed to open to a walk in closet, beautiful wallpaper with a subtle flower print, you knew she might have chosen a slightly less feminine touch but it was undeniably a great space for her to have to herself, “damn this might be the nicest room I´ve seen in this town” you marveled as she lit a candle on her night stand, “yeah I know, I got pretty fucking lucky here”, Tess was looking at you as she said this, not at her space.

secretly you were already kind of imagining the room as partially yours, knowing there was a good chance you´d come back again and again, a smile on your face as you she made her way over to where you were sitting, standing in front of you then, sort of towering over you which you liked, “okay, we should get you out of these now”, which you took as a cue to undress but before you could undo even do anything she gently pushed your hand away, “no, let me do that for you”, not wanting you to life another finger after having had an exhausting day, so you gave in, gladly, smiling up at her as her eyes fell to where her hands got busy with opening your shirt, a quick succession of undoing buttons, she wasn´t fumbling at all her hands were steady, and it did turn you on, to have her handle you with such care, you were at a loss almost as she pulled your arms out of the sleeves as if she didn´t want to break you, gently, a stark contrast to her generally not very inviting aura, which vanished into thin air around you.

she wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a feeling of safety, of being held. your tank top was also far from dry, and you saw her hesitate but you almost begged her then, “go on”, wanting the intimacy of being exposed, being seen, she nodded, realizing that it wasn´t just about the clothes anymore, that you were getting something you needed out of it. she moved her hands under your top to pull it over your head, and the moment you were left sitting there topless, your skin painted in a golden hue from the dim light, her eyes changed, you were watching her while she was taking in the sight if of you, her palms resting on your shoulders, warm, so warm, once she looked at you again she moved her hands down your neck, your chest, slowly, “you´re so beautiful”. for the first time you thought you could hear her voice wavering, a hint of a tremor and the way she was standing between your legs, looking down at you, it made you feel weak in the most satisfying way. for so long you´d worked at seeming unfazed by anything, but in that moment you were glad to surrender, to look up at her in awe, to let her do whatever she wanted to, that moment with her, it felt sacred in a way. her eyes fell to a spot on your chest where she´d left a subtle mark the night before, a faint purple, she traced it for a second before leaning down to kiss the spot, ever so softly. a moment later she got onto her knees, moving between your legs to unzip your jeans and help you out of them too and once you were left in nothing but your underwear, you realized that that was the first time she´d seen you fully exposed, which felt good, her gaze never made you feel uneasy, it always made you want more.

Tess didn´t get up again but remained on her knees, her hands on either your thighs, feeling your soft skin, caressing you, and you were still at a loss for words, just taking it in, your body heating up from what she was doing, almost blacking out as she kissed your inner thigh, not just once, but leaving soft kisses all the way down to your knee. you could feel her long hair brushing your skin, tingling a little, her other hand lightly squeezing your other thigh as she seemed to get lost in the feeling of your skin, a kind of adoration that was enough to make you feel like you were imagining it all, it was beyond anything you´d expected from her, the way she was almost worshiping your physique. once she stopped to look up at you, she saw your eyes almost closing in pleasure, “relax for me okay? lay down, let me make you feel good” she said and you took the order, laying down flat on your back while your lower half was still at the edge of the bed, in her grip.

after Tess kissed your other thigh and felt you relaxing, quietly sighing, clearly wanting more, the progression of sensual to sexual was so seemless that it didn´t even make you nervous when she moved to pull of your underwear, the moment you felt her touch the fabric you assured her with a “it´s okay”, eager to be hers entirely. the feeling of laying there on the soft bed, the rain still making light sounds against the windows, the sensation of her lips trailing down your body, it left you fully present in your body, no thoughts other than god this feels good, it was exhilarating to be nude and to practically feel every part of you warm up and pulse with desire, your face growing hot, your chest rising and falling with heavy deep breaths, the space above your hips burning as she held onto you, it was clear to her that you were turned on to a level that could and should be deepened, so once your underwear was discarded onto the floor she moved further up between your legs, tightening her grip on you a little, pushing your knees apart more to have space, hooking her arms under your thighs to pull you down onto her face.

it was a charged moment for both you and Tess, neither of you had been intimate with anyone in a good while, so you felt every little sensation of that moment intensely, she had no idea if anyone had ever gone down on you at all so she felt a sense of responsibility, to not just be gentle and patient but to also make it heartfelt and passionate enough for you to crave more once she was done, a mix of carefulness and the urge to show you just how good it could feel. she knew she had all the time in the world, so at first she just focused on the skin leading up to where she was going, licking the highest part of your inner thigh, broad strokes with her flat tongue just tasting your skin for a moment, your sounds still faint but she could feel your body reacting, a slight twitch in your leg as she kneaded the skin where her fingers were digging in while moving to your center and running her flat tongue over your cunt in one big stroke, leaving your lips glistening with her spit, a slight gasp from you then, followed by a needy “please Tess..”, urging her to go ahead, so she briefly reached up and spread you open with her fingers, teasing you for a moment by running them up and down between your folds before leaning in and licking up what had leaked out already, a hum of pleasure as the slick texture hit her tongue, a sudden hunger, so she put more force into it and found a rhythm of sucking and licking your soft sensitive flesh that drove not only you insane but herself too, your whole body flushed by that point, your hands gripping the sheets before she reached up to hold them down, to make it even more intimate, feeling your hips moving up to meet her tongue, your fingers trapping hers, squeezing quite hard from the overwhelming feeling, but you were being easy, you didn´t squirm much or try to move away, it was pure bliss for her the way you were sprawled out and open for her, she praised you for a moment as she lifed her head, moving her hand to caress your stomach, “you´re being so good for me, such a good girl”, it only turned you on more, “my angel” she whispered against your skin as she could hear you whine from the mix of her words and her touches, her own underwear soaked by that point from it all, so much so that she might even finish too.

to really push you towards your impending climax she stopped pushing her tongue into you after having gone at it for a while and moved to suck on your clit, hard, not to a point of pain but hard enough to make you see stars for a second, “jesus fuck..” you moaned as she kept doing it, “Tess fuck I´ll-” you cried, feeling her steady you by grabbing your hips, “it´s okay, breathe, I got you” cooing at you before really harnessing all of her strength to overstiunalte your clit to the point of your walls clenching and your legs shaking, her hands constantly running up and down your body to add to the arousal, she knew that a squeeze and a grab at the right moment would only make you cum harder, you tried to somehow remain in place as you felt the orgasm building in your core and spreading out through your whole body in violent waves, your moaning nad whining almost making her lose her mind with lust as she felt the whole lower half of her face getting soaked in your juices, an intense final shudder told her you were finished but she wasn´t, letting you calm down a little as she gathered up every last drop that she´d gotten out of you, a last sloppy lick over your cunt before easing up and catching her breath, still between your legs, until she had the urge to see your face and climbed up over you, trapping you beneath her, satisfied with the look she found on your face, all flushed and exhausted and content.

before she could say anything you pulled her down for a kiss, which turned her on even more because she knew you knew she hadn´t wiped her mouth or chin yet, a gesture of intimacy that got her good, you tasting yourself on her lips, not even just a closed mouth kiss but kissing her in a way that made clear how much you´d enjoyed what she´d just done. “do I wanna know how you got that good at eating pussy” you said, which got a laugh out of her, her hand in your hair as she said “oh you know, the hundreds of women I dated before you” you didn´t laugh, wondering for a split second if she might actually mean it “I´m joking, don´t worry, I guess you bring it out of me”, “okay now you´re just sweet talking me” you said, your hands around her neck as she shook her head, “not my style, you should know that by now I think”, both of you smiling at each other as she said this because you did know, but it was still new to you, to be wanted like that, by someone you wanted just as badly. you knew her arms must have gotten tired from hovering over you so you pulled her down onto your chest, “careful there” she said, worrying she was gonna be too heavy, “you can crush me I don´t mind” you said, holding onto her as you could hear her laughing, resting on your chest for a moment.

neither of you were bold enough yet to ask the other one to spend the night together, so around midnight after laying there together for a good while, she offered to walk you home. as you stood in front of your door and looked at her you didn´t dare to kiss her even though it was dark and nobody was out there except you two, but you did allow yourself what you´d been too shy to do earlier, which was a hug that went beyond the friendly kind, so you stepped closer to her one last time that night and embraced her as tightly as possible, communicating something a simple thank you, wouldn´t have. as you stood there, arms around each other, the faint sound of a few lone birds above you, the smell of snow still lingering int the air, she lightly ran her hand over the back of your head, speaking in a low tone, “you take it easy tomorrow, okay? no work, no nothing, and if anyone really needs you to do something, send them to me, I´ll take care of it.” you smiled against her shoulder, still gripping the fabric of her jacket, “okay, I will”, separating only after a good two minutes of standing there in an embrace, giving each other a last love filled glance before saying goodnight.

while you were sleeping soundly later that night, Tess and Joel coincidentally got up to get some water from the kitchen at the same time. she´d been awake for hours just laying there unable to stop thinking about you and was already pouring herself a glass as she heard him coming down the stairs, so she got out a second glass and handed it to the disheveled half asleep man who got out a “thank you” but only barely, his voice still impacted by sleep, as she sat down at the table with him, both of them sitting there in silence for a moment. she had a grave expression, staring into space, so Joel asked “hey, you good?”, she looked like she was about to deliver bad news or tell him about a nightmare, but after taking a deep breath and looking up at him, Tess said “I think I´m in love with her.”.

Joel thought of course this woman would say it like she was saying she just killed someone, all serious and almost embarrassed, he smiled then, a genuine warm smile, not the kind he politely gave strangers, the kind reserved for his best friend, he patted her hand as he spoke “well. that´s a beautiful thing Tess”, he realized that his Texan accent had slipped out heavily with that phrase but he meant it, “but you´re scared, hm?” he knew her, he could read her in an instant, she nodded, “you know m Joel, I wasn´t prepared to feel like this. at all.” he understood, “yeah it´s always scary to care. trust me, I´m an expert in trying not to. but I need you to understand that you deserve this okay? hell, we went through so much awful shit, and you saved my ass so many times, I think it´s time for you to let all that go and give being happy a shot. as weird as it might feel to you at first, you deserve it.”

she was genuinely moved by that, leaning her head on her hands while looking at him, they usually expressed their care in other ways, not via words, so she knew it meant a lot for him to be that earnest, “I´ll try” she whispered, he gave her an encouraging nod before downing the rest of his water, “you know this is fun for me. it´s like I am getting a whole new friend out of this. you´re much better company when you have a pretty girl to fawn over”, he teased, earning himself a sharp look from her, “well I´m glad me losing my fucking mind is entertaining to you” she said, shaking her head, but clearly relieved that Joel knew how to help her ease up.

in Jackson there were generally only really two viable options when deciding what to do with your time at night: staying in, or going out to see who was hanging around at the bar, so the next day Tess and Joel found themselves leaving the house around 8pm to go have a drink, simultaneously cursing the cold air as they stepped outside, muttering things like “jesus fuck it´s cold”.

naively Joel started talking to Tess about his day, some gossip he´d overheard, his plans for their garden, but Tess´s very short and unenthusiastic answers of “oh cool” or “I see” or “yeah”, made him suspect that she was not listening at all, that her mind was of course somewhere else completely, so to test if she was even remotely paying attention he said: “you know I was thinking about burning our house down. just letting the whole thing go up in flames” and Tess gave a mild nod and an “uh-huh” in response, her expression unchanged, which made him speak louder then and push her in the side, “Jesus Christ Tess, just go on and get her to come with us, this is unbearable” he shook his head in disbelief over his lovestruck friend as he said this, watching her snap out of her state of daydreaming, “so you´re trying to get me in trouble, huh?”, “oh come on, relax, nobody´s gonna think twice about two women talking to each other, they´ll be too busy getting shitfaced” he had a point. “go! get your girlfriend!” he said, teasing a little, pushing her to do it, “fuck off” she muttered, secretly enjoying “girlfriend” being used to address you, the word swirling around in her mind as she approached your house, girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend almost a prayer like quality to the way its echo kept lingering in her ears, giving her something to put her faith in: the idea of maybe someday soon being able to refer to you as that.

once you opened the door she didn´t even say hello, immediately opening with “go get a jacket, we´re going to get a drink”, you laughed, “damn okay, you´re wasting no time huh” she nodded, “you know me”, she realized that you looked much more refreshed than the night before, calm and healthy, she suspected you´d taken her order and gone easy on yourself during the day.

as you walked down the street Tess assured you that she had Joel under control, that he wouldn´t be weird about it, so as you walked into the bar you followed her over to where he was waiting.

as you approached you saw that three shots were standing on the counter, he looked at both of you, “join me?”, which immediately made you relax, he seemed much less intimidating the moment he opened his mouth. all three of you stood there as you downed the shot, immediately twisting your faces as you felt the burn of the surprisingly strong liquor, “jesus did they pour us gasoline??” you said, which got a laugh out of him, the first of many that followed the minutes after when you all got more comfortable, Tess watching you charm him without even trying, all of you standing there by the bar, nursing your drinks, you giving them some of the inside scoop about Jackson they might not have picked up on yet, airing out some of your grievances, letting them share some of their own, it was clear to them you wouldn´t talk so a sense of trust was established within the hour so you spent together.

once Tommy entered the bar and greeted you before talking to Joel about something private, you and Tess used the opportunity to slip away for a moment, heading to a quieter corner of the bar, sitting down by an empty table. you were tipsier than her since she could definitely handle her liquor better, but it was the nice kind of tipsy, a buzz that made you more prone to being honest, but also, to being affectionate so you had to remind yourself not to kiss her as she stared at you all lovingly, “what?” you said, leaning your hands on your folded hands, looking up at her with doe eyes, she cocked her head, smiling in a way that made her look young, girlish almost, “you should be proud of yourself, he never warms up to strangers this fast. but again, he´d have to be a fucking fool not to like you”.

you sounded a little drunk then as you said “you´re so sweet to me”, while staring at her, and in that moment Tess didn´t care anymore about what anyone might think, she wanted to touch you so she did, brushing your hair out of your face before caressing your cheek, watching your eyes widen as you realized what she´d just done, out in public, but it felt good, to be claimed in a way, so you leaned into it. not everyone noticed, it´s not like every person in town was that invested in what you two were doing, but Tommy immediately clocked it, his eyes flickered over to where Tess´s hand met your face, his own colored in shock as he hit Joel on the arm to draw his attention where he was looking, but Joel just took a sip of his drink, keeping his mouth shut. as Tommy saw the distinct lack of surprise on Joel´s face as he turned to him, he uttered under his breath “oh so you knew??” but Joel just shrugged, “hey, I love you brother, but not enough to spill her secrets to you” and after the initial shock settled Tommy shook his head and smiled to himself while staring down into his glass, “damn, she really went straight for the best one huh”, Joel laughed, “I won´t tell Maria that you said that”, “oh fuck off you know how what I mean”, and he did, during the hour that he´d spent with you and Tess it became clear to him why she liked you, and even clearer why you two had taken so little time to fall for each other. it was so obvious to him, that you were both the types to keep to yourself, to be a little stubborn and unwilling to open up, until you met someone you were utterly mesmerized by, and lucky for you, it had happened.

it suddenly made his chest swell to witness a love like that forming right in front of his eyes because it reminded him of how romance had changed after the outbreak. nobody had time anymore for endless meaningless dates during the end of the world, survivors knew that it was a miracle to still be alive, and even more of a miracle to meet someone whom you could love, so no matter who they were, where they met, when two people saw a light in each other that might illuminate the endless dark of their world, most people usually went into that love shaking and afraid but determined to keep it, because everyone knew tomorrow was never promised. there was an urgency to love after the outbreak, a deep visceral need, a sense of now or never that sometimes ended up pushing people together who´d have never met before. every now and then the stars aligned and fated run ins ended up creating some of the most beautiful and unexpected unions, Joel thought back to Frank and Bill, about his brother and Maria, other couples he´d met, and how you and Tess were in a similar spot, terrified of the depth of your feelings, but so clearly made for each other, so clearly ready to finally open up.

as he was thinking all that, Tess saw that your eyelids were getting heavier by the minute and asked “wanna get out of here?”, seeing you nod, a little sleepy and slurring your words as you said, “yeah. but to your bed, not mine” she smiled, “alright, let´s go then”, as she went over to your side of the table and helped you up, throwing a glance back to Joel who threw her a wave and a knowing look.

once you were outside and the cool air hit your face you realized that the fact that she´d kind of outed you as lovers allowed you to abandon your previous restraint, so you huddled up with her, linking arms, tightly, walking to their house as a few snowflakes fell onto your faces, a giddiness to you that was partially due to the alcohol, mostly due to feeling like she´d somehow committed herself to you because there was no way she´d have done that with someone she had no intention of really being with, not that you ever doubted her but it felt good, to have solid proof of how much you mattered to her, enough to risk potential hostility from onlookers. “so, what made you do that?” you asked, clearly full of adoration for her, she looked at you from the side, holding you close, making sure you wouldn´t slip or fall, the uninhibited even brighter smile than usual on your face making her melt.

“oh well. I realized that pretty much all of them know about my not so spotless past by now, so.. I highly doubt any of them would dare to give us, me specifically, any trouble”, you laughed, nodding, “right. your past as a violent ruthless killer” drawing out the last words for dramatic effect, nudging her, messing with her a little, but instead of laughing she just raised her eyebrows at you, “I really don´t know what you´re using that ironic tone for, miss” you challenged her, “oh so you´re proud of all that, huh?” amused by her taking offense, she shrugged, “no. but maybe I should be, considering that you seem to get a little turned on whenever it comes up” you didn´t even try to protest because it was true, it did thrill you to think that she was capable of all that if needed, “well, maybe I have a thing for fucked up women” you teased, she laughed, “clearly I do too” pointing at you as she said it, you laughed too then, “look at us. match made in heaven” that one definitely wouldn´t have left your lips in a sober state and she just let the words linger in the air as you approached their house but she thought yes, sounds about right.

walking up the stairs to her room she made you go in front of her, both of her hands on your back to sure you wouldn´t stumble and fall, making fun of you for being a lightweight but lovingly, she liked seeing you with your walls all the way down, grabbing her more freely and saying little things out loud you usually wouldn´t have, remarking upon her eye color, her hands, everything that came to mind, all of your thoughts tumbling out, a never ending list of things you liked about her, to a point where she almost told you to stop, blushing a little, which she usually never did.

once you were in her room you immediately flopped face down onto her bed, groaning as you felt the soft bedding under you. Tess dutifully bent down to help you out of your shoes, a simple gesture that made you feel even softer towards her. once she´d also helped you out of your jacket she didn´t lay down but decided to sit next to you on the bed, tempted by the sight of you, pulling up your shirt all the way to your shoulders so she could caress your back, a “hmm” sound of approval from you the second she touched you, her fingertips running up and down your spine, stopping for a second as she saw a faint scar under your right shoulder blade, tracing it for a moment. “how´d you get this?” she asked, you obviously never looked at your own back and you couldn´t even think of where´d you´d gotten it, it was so long ago “don´t remember” you said as she leaned down to kiss the impact of that ancient injury, her lips resting there for a moment as she thought that she wanted all of your pain to be like that in the future: a distant memory, so far gone that it doesn´t have any hold on you anymore. she wanted nothing more than to give you a life that would be so full of love and warmth that you´d remember the rough years before knowing her with a sense of that all seems so far away, I can´t even recall the details. you were lost in the feeling of her impact on your exposed back as she kissed you all the way up to your neck, feeling you relax under her.

after a while you wanted to see her again so you used all the strength that was left in your tired body to roll over onto your back, she laughed as she saw the effort it took and helped you move closer to her, “come here” she said while grabbing you, which ended up with you laying your head in her lap, staring up at her as she held your face on either side, smiling down at you, it struck you in that moment how perfect her face was to you, her hair framing it beautifully,“you´re so pretty” you said, drawing out the “y”, that was not the word people usually used for her and she shook her head while tracing your facial features with her index finger, “you´re the pretty one here baby”, the pet name got to you, you grinned, enjoying the feeling of her feathery touches on your face, lulling you into a state of sleepy bliss. laying on her thighs was about as comforting as anything in your life had ever been.

“oh by the way” she said, watching you close your eyes for a moment, “hmm” you answered, “your schedule for the next month or so is cleared, no more working around town for a while” you were confused then, your eyes open again, her palms still warm on your cheeks, “what do you mean?”, a smug grin on her face, “well.. I thought a lot about what you told me last night, so I talked to Maria earlier. I asked her if she´d mind if I stole you away for a while to help me around the house. Joel is god awful at being indoors for too long, he´s better with the garden and the facade of the house, all that, so I suggested you should help me instead. and I think she said yes because she was just glad to see me warm up to someone but yeah..by the time Tommy gets home I think she´ll know what my actual reason for all that was” you nodded, smiling, taking it all in, “I´m surprised you think I´d be any help” you joked, “oh I think you can handle painting some walls sweetheart”, you nodded, “or, you know, how did you put it, I could “sit there and look pretty”, she laughed, stroking your hair, “exactly yes”, you realized that she´d done that to look out for you, to watch over you and make sure you weren´t doing anything stupid to yourself, which made you emotional then.

you started to actually imagine it, spending your days with her and it seemed a little too good to be true, “that should be fun. you and me and an empty space” you grinned, “hm, let´s see how much work we actually get done huh”, “oh and Joel actually said we could decide what to do with the attic once we´re done with it. use it as a nice space to hang out in when you´re here or something” you laughed then, “I think he might have said that because he heard us last night, you know, trying to get us far away from his room” she laughed, considering it “maybe. but don´t worry, if he did hear us, you sounded hot” she teased, you slapped her arm then, “stop”.

after a few more minutes of you laying there you both got ready for bed because it was clear that you were gonna stay over. she washed your face for you because she was scared of you hitting your head on the porcelain if you did it yourself, giving you some of her clothes to sleep in, a loose long sleeve shirt and oversized sweatpants, a similar kind to the ones she was wearing which you used mercilessly to your advantage, your hands slipping under her wide shirt the entire time you two were in the bathroom, feeling her wince a little each time, “you´re groping me” she joked as your hands wandered up her chest, “I am yes” you whispered before she told you to quit it and go to bed with her, but she loved it, having you all over her, being handsy, it was sweet considering how restrained you´d both been just a day before, debating whether holding hands in public was fine.

once you both got comfortable under the covers it took very little time for you to doze off. at first you laid on top of her for a while but then you moved to your side so you could face her, you both wanted to look at the other person so you ended up falling asleep as mirror images, one arm around the other person´s torso, feeling each other´s slow breaths as you feel asleep, your body heat keeping the other person warm during the snowy night.

it was a symbolic image, the way you two laid there like two perfect halves, because even though you´d lead very different lives leading up to that moment, you were both experiencing the same exact thing: a new beginning. your love was going to change your lives drastically, you both felt it in your bones. for you it was an awakening, for her it was a rebirth. for you it would mean finally coming alive, finally feeling present and like it was worth it to have been born regardless of the mess that happened in the world so shortly after, for her it would mean embracing a third period of her life, after growing up in the normal word and then going through hell with Joel in the QZ, she was finally going to leave behind the guilt and shame about what she´d done to survive the decades before, what she´d done to get to the point of meeting you and finally seeing a light at the end of a tunnel she didn´t even know she could ever get out of.

that was where the acute sense of nervousness had come from for both of you, that fated feeling of: this woman is going to change everything.

laying there together that night, safe and content in each other´s arms, you both felt no fear anymore, only the deep calm of knowing you were only at the very beginning of a love so transformative you would finally know what it feels like to stop surviving and start living again.

you were both convinced the other one had saved you. you were both right.

#the title is taken from that phoebe bridgers song sidelines bc I realized that it fit the vibe of this so if you want go listen <3 #also feel free to send me any thoughts you have I’m really curious #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #the last of us hbo #the last of us x reader #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #anna torv

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