#did you go and make promises you can't keep?

[grotesquevi]

cw # 18+ mdni, jock!vi x ballerina!reader, gay situationship, yearning, public sex, babyagnst, spit, fingering, oral sex, based on a nonnie ask, long headcannons? dont know what the hell this is. wc: 3k

jock!vi who's giving you hell of a rough time lately after she admitted the fact she's not ready for anything serious, making you cut any tie that linked you back to her cause a heartbreak is nothing but a pain in the ass. tossing yourself to an exhausting routine you've been following religiously.

jock!vi who spends the first two weeks — or is it a month? keeping herself busy, cause she cannot afford being sentimental, admit that she needs you back, that she's actually scared of feeling anything else more than this anger that dictates her movements, something that will get her away from her comfort life.

"practice is closed to public," she deserves the coldness in your voice, the way your gaze is so quick to find hers through the mirrors and look away, still in that fucking uniform she loves—. "you can't be here."

ballerina!reader who's always wrapped in pink. pink uniform. pink nails. pink ribbon holding your hair there in a bun as vi once again find herself looking after her boxing practice. matches so damn good with her own hair it's almost a joke to remember how devastating you are in her eyes.

how did she get there anyway? when did her mind played tricks on her long enough to make her change the path to her bike all the way up to the ballet studio? like she already belonged there after all the times sneaking out the weight room to see you practice. she made fun of you at first, but now? fuck, it's so hot when you mention some movement's name in remarkable italian, making her big hands hold your waist when you're spinning in one leg and vi's mesmerized by the grace of it, the delicacy, how you seem to be everything she's lacking.

"no, don't go" the pink haired begs as she notices how you were already gathering your stuff, tossing your shoes to the gym bag still in your pointe shoes "don't go. i need to talk to you... please."

her mind drift away as she speaks, can't help it cause see you again is much like breathing a deadly flower. you're so quick to settle back in her system, ready to live under her skin if asked. you're sweaty, heavy breathing cause hell, you always push yourself harder than the rest, you always stay there an hour of two cause you can't stand disappointment, being less than you force yourself to be even when vi's repeating again how good you are every single time she's there looking, on a sleek suit (and a huge bruise in the right eye) making everybody stand up when you're up on the stage, nervous as ever when you pick up her bouquet of flowers in the end, holding it tightly against your chest.

"five minutes. you just have five minutes and i’ll leave. got better things to do."

fine, whatever. she can actually do it in fucking three.

jock!vi who thinks she's not going to be that pathetic for the first fifty seconds until her tongue takes over and she's spitting truth after truth without any filter at all: maybe she's tired, maybe practice leaves her dry and unable to think for herself, maybe you're the one who has that crazy spell over her, wrapped around your finger even when she tried so hard to avoid it.

"i miss you so much," the words came out of her mouth since her brain can fuck off right now, her own body making decisions on its own — "i'm so tired of pushing you away, of trying to turn off my feelings for you cause i like to pretend i don't really understand them. and i'm so fucking sorry for it."

"no more bullshit, promise to me" you state, and vi can see the tension still lingering on your shoulders, making you stiff and constantly stressed. "if you make me mad i will dump you-"

jock!vi who takes your words as an invitation when she's pulling on that little transparent skirt wrapped around your waist she don't understand at all, one that covers nothing, but its enough to get you closer, to make you shut up, give you time even, to pull away if you wanted to.

and her kisses are messy like everything she does, cause vi has no control over her necessity over you, on how it makes her hands shake almost of the withdrawal of medication, her mouth's all over — invading like a battle of the middle age, your knight who’s taking until you're out of breath and she can see how swollen your lips are, how your gloss rest now in her skin too.

"don't get any weird ideas, vi. not here."

"yes, whatever you say. now come here you fucking tease," she tries to be funny for a damn second, tries to be cool even when her tone is fileld with desperation, tossing her boxing gloves and her own gym bag to the floor. "won't do nothing weird, just need a few kisses."

her arms wrap around you like you're something sacred, a victim of her good intentions overshadowed by a layer of bad behavior, can't think of consequences or anything else more than how good you fit against her, how you keep her warm, complete.

"i can't stop thinking about you," vi's breathing against your neck before pressing soft kisses against the side of it, gentle bites cause she lacks of force now that she's sore and tired after practice, letting her own desires speak for their own, her mouth betraying her own brain — "i can't stop thinking about this, about us and what we have."

"and what do we have huh? i'm not really aware."

"i dunno. you tell me."

ballerina!reader who stumbles over her own words, nervous as ever cause vi's too close, too cocky, too confident for her own good. her teeth pull on the skin of your neck, and you're openly whining about your next presentation being close to the weekend and how you cannot be suffering from her hungry hickies.

"behave," you almost beg her, but it's too late for that already when she's nodding at your words and you know how it works: when she's giving you the reason but she's not capable of stopping herself from taking what she wants, when you cant remove yourself from her either since you have poorer self control as well. that would've explain why she's all over you still, why her hands are so quickly to grab your ass in response, roughly squeezing both cheeks only to get you closer to her.

"i am behaving," vi replies convinced she has it under control—. "you'd be in much more trouble if i weren't behaving."

"vi-"

"please, don't you think i've suffered enough already? that i've missed you long enough?" it's almost a plea, ready to beg if you wanted so. "there's no one around but you and me- don't make me beg, practice's over, this is my time and you're taking it away from me..."

how can you ever deny her special needs?

jock!vi who's touch get more and more demanding by the seconds, almost forgetting where she is still, like the mirrors don't replicate the image of her groping on all the right places, touching and enjoying the curves of your body, the smell you've been reeking after been jumping around, twirling and dancing your guts out.

"it’s the damn uniform" the boxer admits, almost ashamed of having to admit her lack of jurisdiction— "the fucking uniform-- s'making me think a lot."

“i can't change it, pretty sure its mandatory.”

"i'm not complaining. the designers here- really onto something. makes me think pretty nasty stuff when i see you," its a new confession when she's making sure to coax as close as possible, until there’s no more space and she’s all you can breathe. "stuff that would make you remember me we're in public and not in my dorm room in that voice of yours when you're mad" — "pulling a restraining order on me."

jock!vi who has trouble in not messing with you: how is she supposed to not pull the soft ribbon holding your hair only to watch it fall against your shoulders? you're furrowing your brows together but you cannot be mad at her when she's stealing a new kiss in response, not like this anyway.

"don't give me that look, it was already falling. sides i'm keeping it" doesn't matter how sweaty you are, how you scrunch your nose when her fingers get under the tight grip of your leotard that got vi mentally thanking on how summer makes you not wear those sheer pantyhoses you use in winter, cause your underwear's thin enough to be good as damn nothing and it gives vi enough access to touch — "i missed you. shit- i missed you so much."

tightening the grip in your waist, she's cornering you against the wooden ballet barre, almost making you see the tattoos on her back since she's wearing this damn tank top and hell; the mirror gives access to every detail, every muscle: if she's doing that on purpose? her success is imminent.

jock!vi who's turned on by the adrenaline rush, who's muscles burn after a rough session of training, after eternal minutes of running under the sun. vocal already cause fuck: this is medicine for the soul.

"gonna fuck you here so everyone knows who you belong to" she states, making your head spin, "if someone comes in, well they better be thanking me for keeping their star dancer in peak cardio shape. you're damn welcome too."

"interesting. are you always this horny after practice?"

ballerina!reader who contrary to all beliefs, it's actually very bad at remembering why it's a bad idea all sudden, when the cold mirror makes you shiver at the unexpected contact, the perfect excuse on why you’re experiencing goosebumps everywhere the jock's touching.

"ten minutes," vi promises already fond of the mirrors, of both of your figures mixing up in the image that repeated all over again in a room with such a rich space, so much that made it felt crowded even when there’s only two people there. "i promise, just ten minutes. no one has to even know."

"if i don't cum in ten minutes, we are finishing this in my room."

"the showers."

"i said. my damn room, needy mess."

"well. ten minutes it's actually a lot in situations like this. generous even."

jock!vi who's dropping to her knees seconds after, not as sign submission but devotion, of the love that flourished when she's making you rest your leg right against her shoulder. her hand push your waist against the mirror, and you have to hold the barrer cause vi catches you flying low, hella low when it makes your legs shake in nothing but the expectancy of it.

"amazes me how you stand there and have the audacity to call me needy when i'm not even touching you," you'd reply, sassy, intelligent as ever cause even when you're turned on, you can think still, at least until she's using a hand to spread you open, using the wet of her mouth to lick over the fabric of your ballet uniform until it latches to your cunt after, make it stick to your skin like's not there and you're too invested into looking to say anything at all — on how you need that leotard for tomorrow, how you should've accept her shower idea.

"you're needier than me, if that doesn't made it clear" you're mumbling something about needing her to shut up, however, vi's not playing around when her spit mixes up with your own arousal, covering her chin, landing on her tongue when spreading you apart with the skilled muscle of her mouth. just a few touches and its enough to pay special attention to your clit, to make your hips move slowly against her face.

so good. she's making the fabric of the spandex to the side and before you can say something about how she's testing her limits, she's coating two fingers with your own need, lubricating them to push them against your entrance.

ballerina!reader who keeps eye contact like a damn champion when vi admitted one time how much it turns her on, how her blue orbs stare at yours while eating you, her fingers slowly pushing inside until she's knuckles deep. she’s kind, nice even giving you time to adjust, to savor the moment as you cunt seems to squeeze her digits as a warm welcome, as a way of driving them deeper, somehow rougher.

"oh good fuck," vi moans when she has the perfect look of your pussy opening up for her fingers "fuck- this is so hot. so hot sucking my fingers until there's no space.”

"no fucking-"

"no fucking" she promises, lies lies lies—. "i don't see how this could be considered fucking. we'd call it quick fun from now on."

and the boxer's entranced by the smell of you right over her nose, how you move right against her face, looking down, burning holes in her skin through the reflection. vi’s her knees are sore, puffy lips, she's always been messy in general, but today? today it takes the fucking cake when vi's unaware of her own shirt being stained but the combination of fluids, a testament to the comeback, to the need of being one.

jock!vi who likes to make you watch. makes you entranced to the way her arm flex every time she thrusted her fingers inside, how the flesh disappeared and the room's filled instead with a wet, lewd sound that seemed to travel in space. she's having no damn mercy when her digits curve all the way in, when she forgets about the barrier of layers of your leotard and she becomes pussydrunk instead, starved and hallucinating on whatever hallucinogen you carried on your sweat.

"do you see that?" vi asks, voice rough, strings of saliva still connecting her lips to your swollen cunt—. "gonna fuck you in front of mirrors all the time now. see those pretty tits bouncing, the dumb expression in your face- mhm we're definitely fucking in front of the mirror in your dorm."

jock!vi who's a pervert every single time. who's panties dampen while impatiently trying to rub her legs together, soothe the ache. she's such a visual learner she gets off at the sight of you, from your erratic movements, the way she's using actual force to keep you standing, leaning against the mirror and not crumbling in her arms.

you try to be silent and it's so damn nice to see you like this, to know how she's reducing you to pieces when your biting your lower lip hard to muffle the sound of your moans, how you cunt suck her fingers until they're fully in, open, warm and inviting, vi’s ready to cum from the sight only.

you're so in control all the time, snarky comments, sarcastic as fuck, you always have something to say until she's turning your world to misery, until she’s tormenting you, consuming every thought, every inch of your being, installed in your lungs.

"c'mon stay on your feet," vi says, blushing at her own words cause she's supposed to be the one who's able to carry you around, used to always move you around at her needs — "m'tired too baby. do it for me."

her words slur together, her mouth's getting tired, her muscles burn now as they keep moving, keep fucking you against the soreness installing on her body after the adrenaline's already settled.

"yes-" you reply trying to be of help, pulling on vi's hair cause it's so long now you can actually play with it, tug it and wrap it around your digits. “i’m trying i promise, i’m trying.”

good girl. she'd try to vocally praise you, but vi's too invested in making a feast out of you, on have you making the most delicious sounds as she's pulling the leotard entirely to the side and her tongue finally swipes from all the way to your abused hole back to your clit, face-deep in your folds cause no. it’s simply not enough.

ballerina!reader who can't help but be loud when peaking. who's clumsy when falling, unable to hold her weight anymore. who got vi closer than ever when you finally cum, pushing her closer, rougher than before. half lidded eyes, drool on the corners of your mouth: that's the look vi wants to see on your face every day, the look of being throughly spend, used.

she's working you through it like it wasn't already enough. like she isn't pushing on your boundaries enough as she overstimulates you. insatiable, ravenous, eternally greedy when it comes to you.

"sweet fuck," you breathe out, tangled limbs, sticky and damn dirty at this point—. "do you think anyone saw?"

"no" she replies, but in reality, vi doesn't care about been seen "we were quick. pretty sure it was less then ten minutes also."

both of you're unaware of the camera hidden in the right corner of the room at least until next practice when your soul's leaving your body:

camera. she ate you out in front of the security camera.

so vi heard it multiple times already when she’s wrapping the pink lace of your hair now in her favorite boxing gloves: she has such good intentions, but she's a victim, as usual, of her bad behavior.

[hi-im-dazey]

I'm going to add some thoughts on to this, because we are sliding into feudalism.

So a really popular restaurant nearby closed for business last night.

They had good food, a great outdoor seating area, locally brewed beers, sourced all their food inside the 200 mile radius for local source produce and meats. Their menu included many vegan and vegetarian options as well as gluten free choices. All of it was made fresh. AND it did not cost an arm and a leg to eat there.

It was never not busy and full of people enjoying themselves and was a great place to go with large groups because the outdoor seating accommodated that.

There is no way on earth this business should not have been solidly in the black and making enough money to run and turn a healthy profit...

Why are they closed now?

They are in a chi chi neighborhood and the landlord decided to raise the rent to an untenable level.

They tried to massage the cash flow, to cover it, but there was no way to meet the demands of the landlord without giving up on quality or employee QoL.

So they closed.

Now this story is repeating all over our area, and probably all over yours.

And here's the thing, this business will probably be replaced by some fancy eatery no one can afford to eat at, so the new place can meet rent. The wages for the staff will probably lower (we live in a state where it is illegal to pay less than minimum wage to waitstaff or take their tips against wages, so it's not as bad as it could be, but waitstaff deserve more than minimum wage because that's some HARD work and fuck you if you don't tip and vote to make it illegal for tips to be the main source of income) and the quality of the food will be subpar, because they will have to cut corners and price gouge to make the new rent. SO businesses are shuttering because landlords see them doing well and think "I want that money too"

You think we are at end stage capitalism but we are sliding past that and into feudalism, where landlords control everything. Businesses that rely on people being able to spend money won't be able to survive, capitalism will die because people can't afford anything except barely making rent, they won't be able to AFFORD to leave their house to work or play or eat. Can't afford a car, or a 12 dollar day pass on public transit to go to a minimum wage job. Can't afford a bike and screw you if you are too disabled to ride a bike or public transit. Can't afford an rideshare? Soon they won't exist because of the way that business is structured and has no protection for the workers.

Get ready to grow your own veg and raise your own meat and keep your own chickens, and then get ready to give up half of what you grow/raise to your landlord because money doesn't exist anymore.

Not on your class level, anyway.

If we still lived under capitalism then businesses that do well, continue to exist and thrive, and businesses that are bad at being what they are will shutter. Mom & Pop places will be able to continue serving their communities, Chains stores that have years of niche retailing will not have to shutter because it's better for the shareholders to not lease property anymore. (I am looking at you, JoAnn's and Fry's Electronics and Aaron Brothers, and Hancock Fabrics, and Beverly's... although Hobby Lobby can take a flying fuck through a rolling donut) Food Deserts? Yah that's part of this too, no grocery stores in disadvantaged neighborhoods, because those neighborhoods are full of exploited workers and the stores can't make money to pay rent on the space. But the empty Kroger's already put all the Bodegas out of business while it was there.

And the push to replace retail areas with housing? Well the landowner can make a ton more money on leasing 400 units of subpar living space with a row of stores they expect to squeeze for more rent for smaller spaces on the ground floor, than it can from a ten unit strip mall. And how do they get approval to do that? By promising a percentage of the units will be "affordable housing" and HOLY CRAP the OWNER gets to decide what's affordable BASED ON THE LOCAL MEDIAN RENTS THAT ARE ALREADY PRICING PEOPLE INTO HOMELESSNESS.

Okay my enragement is getting too over the top to continue.

Hedge Funds should be banned from owning thousands upon thousands of homes.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading updates: may 2025

jesus christ you guys. May is already over.

I feel like I've lost most of the month to various agonies (power outage, worst period I've had in years, horrific anxiety attacks) but you know what I did manage to do? read the shit out of some books.

what have I been reading?

Zombies vs. Unicorns (ed. Holly Black and Justine Larbalestier, 2010) - I wrote about this one pretty extensively over on patreon, complete with a ranked list of every short story in the anthology. I read this book as a teen and discovered that I remembered way more about these short stories (authored by a dozen names from all across the late aughts YA field) than I remembered, and was really pleasantly surprised by how well it held up 15 years later! as for whether I was Team Zombie or Team Unicorn... well, check out the 'tron ;)

My Best Friend's Honeymoon (Meryl Wilsner, 2025) - I promise this is the last time I'm going to do this, but I also wrote a review of this on patreon. tl;dr: so unbelievably stale that it made me yearn for the weird toxic MILF-ery of Wilsner's other novel, Mistakes Were Made. but, on the plus side, this is one of the only works of fiction I've ever encountered where anyone but gay men are shown to enjoy eating ass 🍑

Martyr! (Kaveh Akbar, 2024) - with each passing day I understand more and and more what Harry Styles meant when he said "it's like a real movie that you'd see in the cinema." Martyr! is like a real novel that you'd seen in a bookstore, or in a library, or discussed in a class where some hot insufferable idiot is going to have opinions so good and so irritating that you're incapable of NOT fucking them. I'm honestly like a little horny about this book, and if you know anything about me and my love of death as a storytelling device you won't be surprised: the main character, Cyrus Shams, is passively suicidal at best, struggling to think of the most meaningful way a person can lose their one and only life. by chance he finds his way to a terminally ill artist living out her final days in museum exhibit, performing her own death, and the to strike up a connection that blows his world wide open. reader, the REVEAL of this book made me shriek.

Don't Fear the Reaper (Stephen Graham Jones, 2023) - the first book in Jones' Indian Lake trilogy, My Heart is a Chainsaw, left me impressed but overwhelmed; the whole time I was reading the book I couldn't help but feel like I was missing something, failing to keep up with either the abundance of references to slasher movies or the convoluted plot of smalltown murder unfolding in the novel. this time around I was on steadier ground, and while I still can't say I 100% kept up with the action at all times, that may well be because I was reading too damn fast - this book's a certifiable chonker, but I breezed right through it, unable to step away from the snaking twists and reveals. I'd say that I hope this town stops serving as a magnet for serial killers and vengeful ghosts soon, but unfortunately I know perfectly well that that's just what Idaho is like.

My Garden (Book): (Jamaica Kincaid, illus. Jill Fox, 1999) - I happen to be an extremely, extremely amateur gardener, by which I mean I very much like to stand in the tiny patch of earth in front of my house and marvel at how many things are growing there now, planted without rhyme or reason, in a soil that's surprisingly rich considering that just a few years ago it was all bone-dry dirt. but whether you take any joy in dirt and plants or not, I think this is a really lovely read. it's about gardening but it's also about making a home your own, and it's about the many colonialist implications of how plants are managed and named, and mainly it's about Kincaid being an extremely funny and wry observer of a great many things. I'd love to offer her a seat on my porch and let her talk for hours about how her garden's doing these days.

Harriet Tubman: Live in Concert (Bob the Drag Queen, 2025) - right in the first five seconds of this book you have to accept a lot. famous historical figures have started returning from the dead, no explanation, and one of them is Harriet Tubman, accompanied by half a dozen other formerly enslaved folks and abolitionists. and what is Harriet up to in the 21st century? well, she's started a band, and she's reached out for help from our protagonist Darnell, a producer who's distanced himself from the industry. got that? good. don't worry about the how or why too much; this isn't that kind of book. this is a book for Miss the Drag Queen to examine the legacy of historical Black heroes like Harriet Tubman and what their sacrifices mean for Black Americans today. Harriet and her supporting cast offer up various views on enslaved life, abolition, spirituality, and more, to the point that it will sometimes feel like the author just wants you to know how much reading she did about Harriet Tubman. but it also seems abundantly clear that this is a deeply personal project, and I was surprised by how much the raw sincerity could get to me even when it felt a bit didactic. I think the best way to enjoy this book is absolutely to listen to it on audio, so that you can not only hear Bob read her own work but also catch the two original songs she recorded specifically for the book.

Daydream Hour: Doodles by Ryoko Kui (Ryoko Kui, 2024, trans. Taylor Engel, 2025) - this one possibly barely counts as having read a book, since it's primarily bonus doodles pertaining to Dungeon Meshi's creatures, characters, and lore, but man, it was still such a delight and a nice little treat to have. Kui has such an obvious adoration for her characters, and it's fun to see her play with them like dolls! the highlight for me has got to me my awful little meow meow Mithrun receiving a hot water bottle shaped like a walking mushroom and, seemingly, enjoying it as much as he's capable of enjoying anything.

Cooling the Tropics: Ice, Indigeneity, and Hawaiian Refreshment (Hi'ilei Julia Kawehipuaakahaopulani Hobart, 2022) - look, I'll be real: this is an Academic Text(tm), and the reading felt like hard work in places. but that work imparted SO many ideas that I never even would have considered before, and I love being able to feel learning happening. there are so many fascinating ideas here about the role of climate in shaping colonial ideas about race, and the regulation of temperature as an expression of colonial power even in something as seemingly innocuous as ice for beverages. you don't think about where ice comes from, but in a time where ice arrives via ship from a continent away, that's hardly a neutral or apolitical thing, is it?

this book actually tied in really well with a particular passage in Jamaica Kincaid's My Garden (Book): in which Kincaid, who grew up in Antigua, recalled this anecdote:

"I must have been about ten years old when I first came in contact with cold air; where I lived the air was only hot and then hotter... But once, the parents of a girl I knew got a refrigerator, and when they were not at home, she asked me to come in and put my hand in the freezer part. I became convinced then (and remain so even now) that cold air is unnatural ad man-made and associated with prosperity (for refrigerators were common in the prosperous North) and more real and special than the warm air that was so ordinary to me..."

and that's a passage that might have been interesting regardless, but something about reading multiple books at one time is that sometimes you stumble onto something in one book that's so SO much more meaningful because of something totally different that you happen to be reading at the same time, and Cooling the Tropics made me pause and give way more consideration to an Antiguan girl's first memory of artificial cold.

Triple Sec (TJ Alexander, 2024) - I'm about to damn this book with a lot of faint praise. it's definitely better than the other TJ Alexander romance I've read, Chef's Kiss. unlike many tradpubbed gay romance novels, it actually feels really queer. and it's definitely the best thruple romance novel I've read, since it lets both halves of the established couple bond with the newcomer separately rather than treating them as two people with one brain who feel exactly the same about everything. the actual plot is a little on the dull end and all three central characters feel a little half-baked, which is a frequent pitfall of adding a third character to a romance, but it's a quick, breezy read that I would say this is a really strong start for queer people who are looking for real deal QUEERNESS in their romance novels. and also it has, like, probably one of the hotter kinky sex scenes we're ever gonna get in a tradpub romance? ngl, Mel and Kade getting together did something for me. iykyk.

Dick Fight Island Vol. 1 (Reibun Ike, 2019, trans. Adrienne Beck 2021) - look. I don't know what to tell you. this is just a really good sports manga where the sport happens to be uuuuuuh an ancient duel between representatives of eight island clans who compete to see who can make their opponent cum first. whoever cums first loses. whoever can withstand the sensual onslaught without blowing their load the longest will win the right to name the next king of the island. it's about duty and camaraderie and intimacy and it does some really interesting things to subvert norms of masculinity. and also it's about a lot of lovingly drawn panels of throbbing dicks and oozing cum and absolutely gaping assholes. win-win! unironically, zero joke, I was delighted by every page.

[ghostly-bat]

Do you have any jondami fic recs? i feel like i’ve read through half the tag at this point 😭

Omg of course! Tho if you've been through half the tag you might have read some of them already but I will recommend fics anyway uwu

Under a read more cus this is gonna be long

Spidey Senses by shaobaopeaches

Description: In which Jon’s spider senses repeatedly failed him, and in which Damian is a little shit. Or Damian’s brothers find out that not only is he dating his childhood best friend, but also that he’s dating Metropolis’s friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

The Man Who Stands To Lose You by fishfingersandjellybabies

Description: It wasn’t possible. That had to be it. This wasn’t real. He was having a nightmare, because this wasn’t possible. Damian's heartbeat had never stopped before.

i would know him blind by andthentheybow

Description: Damian’s not particularly worried about the fact that he’s in free-fall, because he’s called Jon’s name and he knows Jon will catch him.

The baby whisperer by MrsOkita

Description: Apparently Dick and Barbara’s baby girl has a soft spot for Damian. Jon can relate. Richard finds it amusing. Or The Tale of Damian Wayne, the Favorite Uncle (Not a Babysitter)

ABO Jondami by grayqueen

Description: Connected and unconnected ABO JonDami

'Cause I Made My Mind Up You're Going to Be Mine by poisonivory

Description: Jon’s heart started pounding so hard he would have been concerned if he’d heard it in a regular human’s chest. “Are you saying that you’ve been courting me?”

Damian’s brow furrowed. “Yes, obviously.”

“Obviously?” Jon echoed. “When did...how? What was the courtship part?” And how had he missed it? This was so unfair.

Damian's been acting strange. Jon's unprepared for the reason why.

How all of Jon's girlfriends realised that they weren't actually dating Jon: featuring 1 boyfriend by Silver_Athena

Description: If only Jon wasn't so focused on Damian, then maybe he would actually keep a girlfriend. Every partner Jon has ever had, realises at some point that Jon is completely in love with his husband Damian, and after finding out they are the second choice they break up with him.

Jon can't find it in himself to be sad.

Your first kiss? by jerrydoe

Description: And now it’s their first summer together, as a couple, in their own apartment, with a big bed but a tiny square kitchen and a spare guest room, which is occupied by so many cats that Jon doesn't dare to try and count them these days.

Navigating Life by nxghtwxng

Description: A series of DamiJon works in which Damian learns how to make friends

But If I Know You (I Know What You Do) by Sophia52

Description: Damian can only fall asleep when he has a knife. Until at some point, Jon starts counting as a knife.

I Promised You a Heart You Promised to Keep by grayqueen

Description: “You know this doesn’t have to be like this,” the alien said in a serious tone, but he didn’t move away.

Damian glared at him with rage in his eyes.

“Save your delusional offers to yourself, Kent,” he said in a feral tone.

As someone indoctrinated in the art of war, Damian had learned from an early age that anything could be used as a weapon. From the sharpest katana to a wooden pencil. Anything could be used with the proper skill and handling. If his body and Jonathan’s twisted feelings towards him could be used as a means to an end, then so be it.

Or

Superlord Jon gives Damian Wayne special treatment.

A Movie, a Bear, and a Milkshake by I_can_only_imagine

Description: Jon had planed the entire day ahead of them and Damian was along for the ride. It was a sunny Metropolis day for two best friends to spend together. at least, that's what Damian thought. But they day is looking more and more like a date as they go on...

Cloud 9 by Louis_the_Snake

Description: Jon drags Damian out to his friend's planned end-of-semester party day and Damian realizes everyone thinks they're dating. It's not hard to see why, but it was still a surprise.

Hypocritical by fishfingersandjellybabies

Description: Clark can tell, even from this distance, that Bruce does not approve.

Brooding Over Bat Burger by nxghtwxng

Description: “I’m hungry,” Jason said. “Let’s go get food.”

“Why would I want to go anywhere with the likes of you?” Damian retorted.

Jason didn’t feel like playing games. He called Damian on his shit. “Because you obviously want to talk about whatever is going on with you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spent the morning following me around, hoping I’d ask.”

Or: Damian is even moodier than usual, so Jason drags him to Bat Burger and attempts to play the role of Helpful Older Brother.

(Restricted) I Drove All Night (Is That Alright?) by ConsultingWriter

Description: After a fight with Bruce, Damian runs to Jon.

Nothing about this night had been good. The fight he’d had with his father was just the icing on the cake of a terrible day, the tipping point that had driven him out of the manor and speeding towards Metropolis. Towards Jon.

Playing With Fire by Anonymous

Description: Set years after Bruce’s death, Damian has left the Batfamily after abandoning Bruce’s ‘no kill’ policy and now operates as a lone vigilante known as Nocturne in his part of Gotham. One night, after killing outside his territory, the bats send Superman to warn Damian of the consequences of crossing the invisible demarcation lines.

It goes about as well as one could expect.

my boyfriends back and you're gonna be in trouble by desolationofzara

All My Good Wishes (Go With You with You Tonight) by grayqueen

Description: “You can’t keep doing things like that!” he hears Jon exclaim angrily only a second before he can say those same exact words to Tim and they both turn in time to see the other two land on the same roof.

A quick look confirms that besides their evident angry looks, both of them are unscratched.

“I do not take orders from you, Superboy,” Robin says coldly and Kon almost rolls his eyes at Tim’s younger brother’s words. He has heard similar versions of the same statement from Tim before.

Tim and Damian may not be related by blood, but they sure as hell share more traits than they both would like to admit. Kon values his life enough to keep his mouth shut, thank you very much.

Or

Conner Kent takes his role as an older brother very seriously.

I Draw What I See by justforthefanfiction

Description: Jon just wants to get away from pressures in his life after a break up, and talk to Damian about his art. Only to discover his drawings have shifted into a more mature territory. One thing leads to another as he discovers why that is.

Aged up, both characters are mid twenties.

Getting married was never a big deal by Anonymous

Description: Jon proposes to Dami when he’s 8, they never quite forget that day

Oh, Your Good Lovin' (Did Something to Me) by VeryImpressive

Description: "All that I want is to be all you need. Baby, in fact. Ooh your good lovin' did something to me."

-- Mariah Carey, Stay Long (Love You)

Watch the Smoke Pour by Queerbutstillhere

Description: “Stay with me. Let me keep you safe. If anyone tries to hurt you, or make you do something you don’t want to, I’ll make them pay. The world could be ours, Damian. You and I, together, we could be unstoppable. We could take over the world, or we could burn it down and watch the smoke pour if we wanted to.”

---

Damian Al Ghul was born to Talia Al Ghul, daughter of the Demon. His birth was not of the natural kind, but it made him stronger, allowed him to grow and mature quicker. He was bathed in the waters of the Lazarus pit from birth, his pain washed away with each rinse.

He knew pain and suffering for his whole life, until he came to life with his Father, where strife and hurt were his new friends. He spent his whole life fighting to please his parents, never knowing true kindness or love. Until he met Jon-El, and his whole world changed.

There's No Hiding From the Thought of Us by orphan_account

Teenage Dream by Sansy_pansy

Description: After aiding the Legion of Super-Heroes in a fierce but successful battle against Time Trapper, Jon headed home to the 21st Century. What he didn't realize until he got there was that he'd actually come back to a timeline that jumped five years ahead, while he had lost only a month.

This led to more than a few problems. Namely, the unideal status of some relationships. Namely, Damian Wayne.

Naturally, things got complicated.

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? by poisonivory

Description: Through the eyes of their friends and family, the true nature of Jon and Damian's relationship was the topic for one single, most obvious speculation: the two of them were not-so-secretly dating. Or: all of the instances where the Super Sons' behavior toward each other translated as revelations to those around them.

Description: After years in the future with the Legion of Super-Heroes, Jon is finally back in Damian's life, and Damian's determined to keep him in this century. If that means a little fooling around between friends, so be it. It doesn't have to mean anything.

[abigailovesz]

BLUE JEANS FROM THE BORN TO DIE COLLECTION

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you fall deeply in love with jj, a reckless but magnetic boy who can't seem to stay. your relationship is intense, passionate, and heartbreaking, as you keeps holding on - even when he keeps letting go. In the end, he's gone, but a part of you still waits.

warnings: angst, emotional vulnerability and longing, themes of heartbreak, toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol use, mentions of jjs abuse.

he showed up in old jean shorts and a white shirt.

you were sitting on the dock, legs dangling over the edge, salt wind curling through your hair. kildare felt like a dream that night - still and sticky with summer heat, sun just slipping beneath the trees.

“ya always stare out at the water like you’re waiting for something to rise out of it - like a fish or some shit,” came a voice behind you.

you turned. he was leaning against the post, blonde hair a mess of curls, face golden from the last light of day. “maybe I am,” you said, blinking slowly. “ya ever think maybe it’s safer to look at something that won’t leave?”

he smiled, but his eyes flicked with something darker. “then you’ve clearly never seen what the ocean takes with it.”

“jj,” he added, dropping beside you. “you?”

you told him your name. he repeated it like it mattered. like he was trying it on for size. you didn't know it then, but something shifted in the air when he said it. Something you wouldn’t be able to undo.

the first few weeks felt like a fever dream.

you rode on the back of his dirt bike, arms wrapped tight around his waist, laughter screaming into the wind. he kissed you behind the dunes, sand clinging to his skin. he stole peaches from the farmer’s stand just to make you smile.

jj lived like there was no tomorrow - loud and bright and always one step from something dangerous. but when it was just you and him, he softened. “ya ever feel like you’re not real until someone looks at you like they see everything?” he asked one night, voice rough.

you blinked, caught off guard. “all the time.”

he turned to you. “that’s how I feel when I look at you.”

you didn’t know how to respond. so you kissed him. hard.

he tasted like salt and something wild. you didn’t care.

It started small. missed calls. vague excuses. nights when he wouldn’t answer. you didn’t want to be that girl - the one who begged for scraps of attention. but when he kissed you like he needed you to breathe, you believed him. you had to.

one night, you found him behind The wreck, nursing a busted knuckle and a bottle of cheap whiskey.

“what happened?” you asked, crouching beside him, flip flops scraping the floor.

he didn’t look at you. “got into it with my dad again. same story.”

you reached for his hand. he flinched.

“jj,” you said softly. “you can talk to me. ya don’t have to do this alone.”

he laughed. bitter. “I’m always alone. even when you’re here.”

that night, you went home without saying goodbye. and he didn’t chase you.

he kept slipping further away.

you’d see him with his friends, acting like the world was fine. but with you, he was distracted. restless. sometimes he’d hold you so tight it hurt. other times, he wouldn’t touch you at all.

one night, you finally broke.

“I feel like I’m loving you in a room you’re not even standing in,” you whispered. “you keep leaving before I even know you’re gone.”

jj looked away. “I never promised I’d stay.”

“but I did,” you said, voice shaking. “I did.”

he left that night. no explanation. no call. just vanished.

you didn’t tell anyone.

not about how your heart ached. Not about how you stayed up all night checking your phone. not about how every song, every street, every corner of this stupid island had his name carved into it.

he haunted you.

and still, when the wind picked up, you swore you could hear him whisper your name like a prayer he never meant to lose.

weeks passed.

then one night, as you closed your shift at the diner, there he was.

leaning against the wall. rain in his hair. lighter in hand. just looking at you.

“JJ,” you breathed.

he looked older somehow. tired. bruised.

“can I walk ya home?” he asked.

you should’ve said no.

But you didn’t.

he didn’t say much. just followed you down familiar streets. you could hear his boots scuffing against the pavement. you could feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing against your ribs.

“I miss you,” he finally said.

you stopped walking. “you don’t get to say that now. not after everything.”

he nodded. “I know.”

and yet, when he reached for your hand, you let him take it.

you started seeing him again. quietly. secretly. No labels. No promises.

Late nights. Hidden touches. Moments that felt like dreams.

“do you love me?” you asked once, the words breaking as they left your mouth.

jj looked at you like it hurt. “always.”

you should’ve asked what that meant. But you didn’t.

because part of you was just grateful to be loved at all.

It couldn’t last.

you knew it. he knew it.

one night, you handed him his hoodie. the one he always left at your place.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you said.

he took it. Held it like it was heavy. Like maybe it carried every good thing you’d ever given him. “I’m no good for you,” he said quietly.

“but I wanted you anyway,” you said. “doesn’t that count for something?”

he didn’t answer so you let him walk away.

"Blue Jeans" is about clinging to love even when it's gone, and the ache of remembering someone who changed your life forever. (from google)

[grotesquevi]

okay lets unpack this masterpiece cause there’s a LOT to say (light up the joint) first of all ray: what the fuck. its been so long since i read a 10k word fic that would actually have me glued to the screen and howling as the story was building. this is so rich and so beautifully writen my god its just pleasing to the eye, as fic writers is so complex to build up a whole non-canon world that works, and seeing something like this make me stand up and clap.

the story has such a nice pace, like, i really mean it. has enough force to make you crave to read the next paragraph and by the time youre done you’re hitting us right in the heart with the end. ray. girl. it just amazes me how you’re able to go back and forth so easily, state dates and inmerse the reader enough to make us root for their relationship, WISH AND YEARN for them to stop fighting and forget about the divorce.

now to continue with my love, i know writers love this shit (i do) so im posting my favorite quotes, cause even when i dont read much here, this is MY abby fic, MY number #1, cue to the camera.

« It all comes flooding back like ivory wine before it spoils into crimson. »

beautiful. full shakespeare mode. give me 100.

« I do believe you’re more than what other people reduce you to. I’m more interested in this amazing and kind brain of yours. Everything else is just a bonus. It’s a rarity to find someone as beautiful on the outside as they are on the inside. I think that’s what makes you so special, Abby. »

how it felt in my heart, cause i was one step away from calling my personal cardiologist dr. anderson to preform surgery and RIP MY FUCKING HEART OUT.

« “But I can't change the past, so I can focus on making you feel good —  I’ll be yours forever even if you aren’t mine.” »

should i be sad? should i be horny? both. we take both.

« “What does the Dr. Anderson dream about, huh? Enlighten me.” 

“The green house on Maple street.” Abby’s words cut deeper than you anticipate, your next breath trapped in your throat. “It’s not something cruel I’m using to taunt you with. It’s real. It’s yours but it could be ours. I’m four years too late, but I want to give you what I promised.” »

reader and i yk we are really alike, sometimes we make weird decisions in other fics but she’s so realllll cause i would’ve folded as fast as she did if someone told me that.

we are reader, two sides of the mirror, two drops of water, two drops of oil.

anyway. loved this rayray. outdone yourself. 10/10. keep reading your lesbeans books, put this on fucking goodreads cause damn right im reviewing it, love my talented mooties.

─── ·˚͙͘͡★ ❝ I KNOW SUNSHINE ❞

dykematch represents. exwife!abby x yearning!reader

sum. dr. anderson, a heartthrob to many, but at one point to you, she was only a broke college athlete with a soul that cared too much. now, she's your ex-wife that you just can't kick. an old friend's wedding brings you together. for one final time, can you finally bid the love of your life c'est la vie?

content warning. eighteen+, wc 10k. wedding!au, surgeon!abby, some college abby thrown in for fun, smut, strapsex, angst, fluff, grab your tissue babes.

here's my latest baby! on the real, i have been feeling very burned out in the writing community. especially tlou. but had to remind myself that writing can be fun when bitches aren't making it not so fun! this was honestly a very personal piece in some areas so, here's another chunk of my heart. hopefully i'll be back soon, mwah. and happy almost pride!

August, 2025. 

Greenery sprouts from around the bouquet, each vine hand-picked, every flower meticulously placed. An arrangement of lilies, pearly-white roses, and a sprinkle of tulips in your hand as you find the bride. The venue is something you wished didn’t make you think of your own. You kept reminding yourself today isn’t about you. 

Lola. 

Lola and Chris. 

You’d seen glimpses of her at the rehearsal dinner. Highlights  of blonde eclipsing your vision just for the moment but the sun seeping through the tall windows made its presence known instead. There was too much to do, too much to say to her, and none of it would come out right. 

What’s in the past is done. Right? 

You take a moment to take Lola in. After all, this is what it’s all about. True love. Never have you seen two people so perfect, standing the test of time. Through four years of college, and another four after, here she is. 

Ready to say forever in front of all her family and friends, their loved ones ready to synchronize the joyous cries in harmony. Lola and Chris. The love of their lives. 

They are the focus, until the last speech of the night, this is all you focus on. Even though Abby is a part of their wedding party. Desperately, you make an attempt to remain your composure when you’re walking down the aisle with Abby. You ignore the navy blue tie illuminating her eyes, or the arm she offers in silence as you wait for the wedding planner to give you your cue. 

There are thoughts. Pestering ones. Reminding you of four years ago, the two of you high on love, a wedding band around Abby’s finger, her hands barely able to stay off of you more than a second. When she used to look at you with unwavering devotion. 

Neither of you had been scorned by life yet. 

And you hoped Lola and Chris would be so lucky to never feel the burn. 

─── 

The second? The fourth? Wait, no, this has to be the third…right? 

In the echoes of your lonely chambers, party for two. A glass of whiskey and some sorrows to drown in. Locked in her admiring gaze, you watch as she dances with your five-year old niece. A gracious heart leads Abby to let the little bundle of joy  dance on top of her feet. 

There’s a twinkle, blinding as a new-born star, and it reminds you of what it feels like to be a constellation she chases. One fleeting star desperately attempts to connect to the closest neighbor twinkling in the midnight sky. Always wondering if the newest will shine as much as the last. 

Ellie will momentarily start making gagging noises to your left. Right on cue, she snaps her fingers in front of your face, bursting your fantasies. 

Reality is brutal. 

“How long?” Ellie questions you, ivy-green eyes watching you like a hawk. 

“Still the same — a year.” 

Then Abby’s laughing with your mom, leaning into her warmth. Even after Christmas passes, another thanksgiving drifts from the calendar, and you wonder if she’s alone. One too many Valentines you should be spending with her, you can’t help but wonder if things could be different. 

The girlfriend you refused to bring leaves a stain in your mouth, the fight the two of you had before, it’s all so fucking cliche. Another wasted relationship to forget the horror you’re living in. Another breakup you’ll pretend didn’t happen at the sake of your dignity. She can’t know you’re single, again. 

It’s too obvious to anyone who’s watching, divorced for three years, separated for four and it's only been a year since the last time you were together. A year since she’s been gone, radio silence engulfing you the second she left town. 

The well-renowned heart surgeon, Dr. Anderson is called all across the globe. Her two feet are never on the ground enough to call any place a home. Her speciality didn’t always have her chasing both ends of the globe, fleeing to where she’s needed at a moment notice. 

She was leagues above her peers and even her superiors. Abby running circles around them. Putting them in a continuous loop. Until she kept moving to the next big thing. Something had to give and it wasn’t her career. 

The final dagger in your cracking marriage was when she missed your anniversary for the second year in a row. Your birthday before that. And the wilted flowers you couldn’t bring yourself to discard months before that even. 

But neither of you were able to quit each other. Long after the ink dried with every dotted line signed and you still found a way to crawl into her sheets. There wasn’t anyone else who compared to her but you were still trying to find it. 

The moment you truly fall in love, when it’s undeniable and it consumes you, where you finally feel peace with their comfort surrounding every worry you’ve had. 

But maybe lightning only strikes once. A bolt of love with only her initials carved in by the magic of gods, each promise she’d broken forged into a blossom that ends — painfully does it linger — like a spring begging to kiss summer. 

“You’re breaking it tonight.” Ellie shakes her head. You can’t take your eyes off of Abby for more than one second. “Neither of you can help it.” 

“I have a girlfriend, Els.” A vicious burn chokes your throat as the whiskey burns and settles disparagingly in your stomach. The lie smothers you all the same.  “A smart, beautiful girlfriend.” 

“Listen, I love you. You know that but none of your relationships are ever going to work when you still look at Abby like this.” She finds it necessary to emphasize the bright light in a shadow of green. “All of these years and you’re still not over her.” Ellie swiveles in the bar stool to face you. “Plus, we both know she’s not as innocent as she looks.” 

There’s silence for a bit, downing the rest of your drink, hoping the burn coating your throat travels to your heart, dimensioning all hope beating for the woman you’ve never been able to shake. 

Everyone expects you to. Like it’s easy. As if you didn’t think vows are forever. Life has never been so unkind to you. You’re more fortunate than most. 

“Do you really need it explained?” 

“No.” You speak as if you’re wounded but all she did was point out the obvious. Abby is a glaring truth you tuck underneath your seat, the missing raspberry-chapstick in the bottom of your purse. A trinket. Better off hidden than searching for something that is no longer intact. 

“I can make this work. Abby doesn’t always have to be the person I run back to. I can move on and heal or whatever the fuck it is normal people do. I can do this.” It’s a mantra to convince yourself, but not even Ellie is convinced. 

Ellie smirks as Abby makes her way over to you but you’re too caught up in ordering another whiskey to stop yourself from doing something idiotic. A brainless action that would only bring your gratification for a moment, before your hands would be coated in your lovers’ blood the second it’s over. 

She’ll always be a phenomenon, the dime of a dozen. A bundle of your highest dreams wrapped in the warmest blanket. Fine lines deepening the apple of her cheeks, not to mention the wrinkles when she furrows those maddening eyebrows. There is no denying how much you’ve always loved her. 

You’re truly doomed. 

───

“Old fashioned, please.”

An open bar was the best decision of the night. Everyone was buzzing, congratulating the happy couple, nursing their favorite drink in hand. Everlasting love for the blessed ones or a vice of your choice for the insufferable. The ones who had already ventured down the aisle and couldn’t make it on the other side. 

It’s why you couldn’t stand the particularly young bartender eyeing up Abby like she’s a piece of meat. Before you never had felt the weed of jealousy wrap around your throat, suffocating the joy right out of you, but they might as well be thorns protruding through your sternum for every second her eyes linger on Abby.  

Silky locks of midnight-blue and hazel eyes taunt you as she stutters and drops the glass she’s been holding right in front of Abby. As of the mere sight of her warrants for precious glass to be broken. She just laughs it off as the woman who makes Abby’s drink blooms a deep shade of pink. 

“Let me guess…The Macallan?” Abby gestures to the glass of whiskey you’re nursing. 

“Maybe.” A glimmer in your eyes, tightly pursing your lips in attempts to keep at least one thing closed tonight. But she leans forward, her nose sniffing above the rim. 

With her eyes beaming up at you, blonde-eyelashes curling to kiss her sandy freckles, she smiles. A sparkle. Another flame so warm it matches the shade of blue in her eyes, cursing you with the love she once felt. Almost making you believe it could happen again. 

“That’s definitely Macallan. Your favorite. How could I ever forget?” Abby offers a question as her cologne isn’t so invasive, there’s space for you to breathe, but with her close you doubt there’s enough oxygen to spare. 

“It’s only because of New York. I’m not sure I could ever forget it.” 

“We went through, I don’t know—” Abby tries to recall, but you don’t need to be told. You’re fully aware of what happened. 

The first time Abby whisked you away on a spontaneous trip before life got so hectic. Labored gust of her minty-fresh breath kiss your neck as she sinks herself into your warmth, a blank canvas for her lips to mark. Abby does it quietly, the summer sun raining light on your silky skin, and she decides to shower you with more of her love.

Out of habit as if she’s said it a million times before. But it’s the first. Naively, she whispers those three little words. Lips of subtlety rest against your ear as they are released. A moment of confusion has you turning around, eyes squinting against the light of the sun, making you think twice if you heard her right. 

And you did. 

The memory suffocates, morphs into a dream, and then you find yourself lucky enough to barely remember it. A blatant lie, but if you believe it hard enough, it could be the truth. 

“Three bottles in one night and then you held my hair when I puked my guts five minutes later that morning and told me it made you love me even more.” Your face scrunches up and Abby knocks her shoulder with yours. 

“Do you remember later that night when you let me do that thing with my t—” 

“I’m still right here!” Childishly, Ellie throws her hands up on the hair before she takes another swing from her beer. 

“Williams, I sure have missed the shriek of your voice.” Abby leans over, throwing her arm over the backrest of your chair, making herself comfortable. 

As if no time has passed, the three of you slip into easy conversation. You wished for this. A glimpse into the life you once had. For a time, little moments just like these only existed in your dreams. Even when the two of you were still living under the same roof — in your cruel reality it still felt like a fantasy — one that was entirely too unattainable. 

It makes you think of when it all started. When life felt easier. 

───

The College Years: University of Seattle 

Ellie had been the first to set your sights on you, well, before Abby at the very least. Pining only ran so deep and your consistent rejection became a heavy cross for her to bear. Over your first semester, Ellie became a confidant, and her crush melted in friendship. 

She’s the first person you’d ever trusted with your harboring secret. A sophomore in college and you finally felt yourself settling in. Your first year, you only allowed yourself to drown in your studies. A strict regimen. The only real friend you did make was Ellie and only because she couldn’t land herself in your sheets. 

But regardless of how the situation had started, her presence in your life became concrete. A month into the semester of your second year, Ellie thinks it’s a great idea to start dragging you into parties. Like that’s the most obvious choice in the world. Yet, you’re still warming up to the idea. 

Cheap beer, frat boys trying to make their presence known to any girl who walks by, whatever pop song they deemed necessary to funnel them to the next raunchy beat. None of it really had ever been your scene. Ellie thrived in it when she chose to. When she didn’t feel like it, the two of you would silently read books in your insanely small dorm room. 

You agreed to go to one this week. Even if it pains every bone in your body. Ellie flips through the pages of a book you recommended to her as you emerge from the bathroom, practically done. For the past hour, you envied Ellie’s nonchalant red converse and navy-blue flannel attire. It must be nice to not have to do yourself up to the nines to feel comfortable. 

You craved it. 

For a moment, you contemplated an outfit change but then there was a disturbance at the door. A loud one, too. 

Ellie shrugs her shoulders as if to say — this is your dorm, not mine — and she’s right but it doesn’t make it any less nerve wracking. 

Maybe Dina has someone stopping by and she double booked? You take a moment to glance at her made bed before opening the door. 

“Lola, would you please—” The snarky blonde who is in the middle of an eye roll, stops in her tracks. Freckled and pale cheeks coated in a bashful crimson. “Oh, right, you’re not Lola.” 

“Am I supposed to be?” There’s a confidence in your tone, enough where Ellie puts her book down to watch. 

“It’s Chris’ girlfriend, she’s always going about me taking a long time to get—” The woman pauses realizing you have no idea what the fuck she’s talking about. “And…….you don’t know Chris. Wow, really making an ass out of myself, huh?” 

“Yeah.” 

Ellie laughs, a bit too loudly, and it’s enough to warrant her attention as she sneaks a peek into your dorm. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude on you and your girlfriend—” She sighs, hiding the bag she had in her hand behind her back. “Lola is probably just fucking with me and sent me the wrong room on purpose. She says I’m overly confident and I apparently need to be humbled, desperately. This isn’t the first time she’s done this, believe it or not.” 

“So, are you?” 

“Am I what?” She questions, a smirk etching its way into her full cheeks. A bright-glint in her eyes personified to tease you. 

“Overly-confident?” 

“Me? Never, sunshine.” As if she’s looking for a sign. 

You give yourself permission to look at her and there’s a lot to be confident about. Her staturing height, golden waves of blonde, piercing-blue eyes creating round edges around your soul. There’s a sincerity there. You wonder if she’s even aware of it. 

She looks simple enough, a white button down loose and opened, even slightly wrinkled. A pair of vintage denim shorts, a wash of pale-blue fitting loosely on her thighs with a graphic tee that brings out her eyes even more. 

She’s tan, clearly athletic, and definitely a flirt by the looks of it. The interaction is too overwhelming and she’s too warm. You don’t even know her name. Nor do you have any intention to. She’s terrifyingly self-assured, batting her blonde eyelashes at you as if she’s waiting for you to paint her golden. 

“Well, I hope you find Lola and Chris.” The beautiful woman in front of you, equally as muscular as you’ve seen from anyone on campus, blushes. But you’re too in your head to notice. “Have a good night—” 

“Abigail. But you can call me Abby.” 

The next couple weeks blend together. All of it is more or less the same. A string of classes you’re trying to keep up with, caffeine you’re pumping your body with, and a mysteriously confident girl who won’t leave your mind. 

Ellie waits until it’s been three weeks to torment you with it. You’re surprised she even found the patience. 

“You know who that girl was, right?” 

“What girl?” The two of you are walking back from the cafe, headed back to your dorm room before the both of you call it a night. Ellie insisted she make sure you get home safely which you appreciate. 

“Don’t give me that. You know exactly who I’m talking about.” 

To be fair, you did. But you didn’t want to make it obvious. 

“I’ve seen her around, yeah. I don’t know who she is and it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like I’m going to see her again. She’s just someone who knocked on the wrong door.” 

“So, the captain of the rugby team, every lesbian’s dream girl is going around campus asking about you and you’re not going to even bite?” 

“What?” You take a beat, trying to process the information. “She is not—” 

Ellie shrugs her shoulders, as if it’s a fact you have to stomach. A truth that should be sweet to swallow. To you, it feels more than overwhelming. It’s an unbearable weight. The last thing you’ve ever wanted was attention. With Abby dialed into you, for whatever reason, is too much for you to carry. 

“Well tell her you’re my girlfriend. She already thinks so, there’s no harm in—” 

“She totally doesn’t.” 

Her response crosses you with confusion. “But why wouldn’t she when I never corrected her?” 

“Because she asked me and I said you weren’t.” Ellie mischievously smiles. 

You think about punching her in the lip, but decide against it. 

It's nearly two months before you see Abby again. For a while, you thought you would never have to see her again. The more you gave yourself time to think about it, the more of a distraction she felt. This is exactly what you had been so strictly against. 

You didn’t have time for that. A budding romance. No matter how tempting her pretty muscles and pink lips seem to be — it’s not like you’re even interested. She's just a jock with a pension for something she can’t have. It didn’t necessarily help that she wouldn’t stop asking Ellie about you. 

Every time, Els would come back to you with her eyes shimmering in a vibrant-green. A smile nearly revealing itself in the light. A new question about you, a new interest in something you like. Abby loves asking about you. Ellie makes sure you know it too. 

“If she’s so fond of me, why can’t she be bothered to talk to me?” 

“Because she would scare you off. You need time to warm up. Something where you don’t feel so much pressure.” 

The truth nips at her skin like the prickly ends of a cactus. Abby would scare her off. The popularity she carries is enough to make her run sixty miles in the other direction. Let alone everything else about her that makes you nervous. The first encounter was a hail-mary. In the comfort of your own room, there was an extension of yourself to latch onto. 

Outside of it, there was nothing warm and comforting, just cold heartless feins threatening to suck your discipline dry. 

“I hate that you know me so well.” 

“I know.” Ellie nudges your shoulder with hers. 

The local pub is quiet, you’re nursing a beer Ellie had been able to score with her fake id. Suddenly, the discussion of Abby being brought up made you question the size of this table. And before you could say a word, a couple of unnamed faces funneled in with the woman of the hour.

You wonder if the couple clinging onto each is Lola and Chris. Dina follows right behind them as she ends a phone call. 

“Ellie, you did not—” 

“Oh, I so did. You need to get fucked by a b—”

“Hi, Sunshine.” 

Abby’s voice tugs at your heart, so badly you have to physically put your hand over your chest. Lola and Chris introduce themselves as they delve into a conversation with Dina and Ellie, like they knew each other. 

Like everyone knows everyone but you. The whole night Abby is persistent. An open book, she wants to talk about anything. Everything. All of this seems to be so easy for her. A couple times, you find yourself getting distracted with her toned-arms, they’re even larger than Chris’ slimed arms. 

Abby asks you questions and involves you when she gets looped into conversation with Ellie or Lola. You like it when she always asks your opinion, giving you her undivided attention when others go off to the next topic. The golden signet ring on her pinky shines in the dually-light bar. Catching against the reflection of the mirror adjacent to the oak-stained wall. 

“You wanna pick a song? I think I might have some cash on me. Or some coins, something of currency.” Abby steps off the stool, lending you a hand even if it’s a short step for you, and you still take her guidance. 

“Uh, sure. I don’t see why not.” 

“Is that almost excitement I’m hearing, sunshine?” 

When your face sulks back into something moppy and annoyed, Abby laughs as bright as the sun. 

“C’mon, don’t let my optimism put you off. I’m not nearly as bright as I seem. You just have that effect on me.” She says what you’re thinking. Kiss her, run away, hit Ellie for making you painfully aware of the beautifully-golden girl who holds some type of affection for you. 

Abby stands behind you as you sift through the music on the jukebox. A collection of classics from the eighties and nineties. Even some lingering songs from the seventies have made its way. You’re not even paying attention, not really. You’re not sure if Abby wants to torture you, but she stand behind you, a fraction off to the side as she extends her arm across to the right, leaning into even more. 

“You pick. I can’t decide.” 

“Okay, but on one condition.” 

“Why do I have a feeling I’m not gonna like this.” Abby just smiles, whispering in your ear that you have nothing to worry about. 

“Just a dance, one song.” 

“Abby, you should know I—” 

“What? You don’t like girls?” You can tell she’s joking. The small joke even makes you laugh. The two of you both knew how much you’ve been ogling, not really letting her out of your sight, even if it’s for a minute long. 

“Abby.” You warned and then she dials back her flirting, telling you to go on, as she scrolls through the list of songs to choose from. 

“Go on, sunshine. Tell me the devastating news.” 

“I don’t date. I don’t want to. It’s not something I want to focus on.” Abby chooses a song before twirling you in her arms. It gives you no option but to latch onto her, arms thrown around her neck once the two of you settle into each other. 

“And how firm do you feel right now in that decision?” There’s no teasing, she’s genuinely asking as she holds you, in a bar full of staring people, she couldn’t care less. If you’re not careful, you might fall in love with her this very fateful second. 

“Pretty good.” You meet her eyes, as she inches forward, her chest pressed against yours and Abby leans her foreheads against yours. A breath full of mint kissing your luscious lips, a strawberry-balm coating them a deep tint of red. 

“And what about now?” She wants you to lean in. To give into the selfish devil on your shoulder, or the angelic soul whispering in your ear, whatever brings you closer to her. 

The song is over but the two of you haven’t even struck the first chord. 

───

You think of your almost first kiss with Abby. How deeply you felt for her even before you knew her as intimately as you do now. Even when the years apart sever you, the nerve endings binding you together barely holding on, you’ll always have that moment. 

An almost. It’s laughable how relevant all of those moments feel just as you are now. Almost a lifetime later. It makes you think of the life you once had, the one you never took for granted, but you soon would learn she would. 

Abby was never some dumb jock who was careless and reckless. There’s naivety that blooms in your youth, and somewhere along the way, you grow up. The leaves of your knowledge become weathered, the colors change, and suddenly what made you so green turns into a numbing-brown. Until you fall into something new. 

Even now, you still cling to the memories of her. The novel acts of love and the ones forgotten that made your blood run cold. 

Late nights watching your favorite horror movies while Abby cooks a dish she knows you love. Or when she stops on her way home to get you a bottle of your preferred white wine. The little things she used to do for you suddenly fell into acts of service that never happened until it was just you and the bottom of the bottle each night, wishing Abby was there with you. 

No one truly knew how this worked. How you and Abby are so amicable, so kind to one another after the divorce was finalized. It’s easier when the two of you are still in love, circumstances pulling the two of you in different directions but there’s still so much love. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed the cocky jock everyone fawned over.” Ellie jokes, “But truly, it’s good to see you. Even if it’s for these two crazy love birds. Lola and Chris, god she’s such a saint.” 

“If that ain’t the fucking truth.” Abby and Ellie ding their glasses together. 

It’s nice to see the two of them together but you know Ellie. She’s up before you have time to blink. She’s always been the biggest supporter for you and Abby. And she so badly wants the two of you to work. Whether the pressure feels good or it doesn’t, she places it there. 

The words she spoke to you junior year of college still ring in your ear. 

One day, I’m going to find the love Abby and you have. I want someone to look at me like that. So full of love. Of faith. Like there’s a testimony waiting to be written in her eyes. That’s how Abby looks at you. I want to believe love exists like that for everyone. Even for someone like me. I haven’t forgotten you rejected me by the way. 

Classic Ellie. 

Without so much as a word, she excuses herself when Dina pleads for a dance and she so freely gives it — you wish it could’ve been this easy for you. Like she believed it would be. 

A love full of faith and promise. Now you just had a badgered testimony. 

“Where is she?” Abby asks the moment Ellie is gone, it’s the first thing she wanted to ask but she waits until the two of you are alone. She won't say her name, not when she still feels the burn. The ache in her stomach when Iris hard launched the both of you online. 

“Home.” It stings more than Abby expects it too but she takes it on the chin. There's still silence as the two of you sit comfortably, leaning your head against her supportive shoulder. 

You cared for her. You hated that it felt good to see the jealousy rage in her eyes. For once, she didn’t hide what she felt behind her impenetrable mask, one that was built over time, but it was short lived. 

“I’m sorry, Abby. If I had known I would have never—I never would have gone there.” 

It all comes flooding back like ivory wine before it spoils into crimson. A year ago when it all blew up in your face. Even if you didn’t know Abby so well, an imbecile would know it’s why she disappeared. Never coming home after, ignoring your texts with a dryness you hadn’t experienced in years. 

If you could take it all back, you would. Abby tells you it’s fine but she forgives a lot when she loves you. It’s another slice to your heart; you’ll never stop bleeding. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” There’s a wall in front of her eyes, keeping you from knowing a thing. It hadn’t been much different when the two of you were married. Always so much to hide, very little room for you to be let in. 

You loved the girl who was an open book, somehow the both of you had lost her. 

“No, we don’t have to talk.” Abby smirks as she talks a sip of her drink. 

“You’re such a cheeky shit.” You nudge your knee against hers as you lean closer to her, thick and muscled thighs shifting towards you, sandwiching your legs between hers. “I guess some of us don’t really change.” 

“I’ve changed plenty—” Abby places her hand on your thigh, playing with the flimsy material of your dress, enjoying the slit in your dress exposing smooth skin in the beeline of her vision. 

“Yeah, totally.” 

“I have.” Dragging her fingers along your thigh as she tests the waters and she rises higher, rubbing soothing circles into your skin as she recites every inch of surface from memory. “A lot of things have changed for me recently.” 

“Like what?” You’re the definition of pathetic, fawning over her every word as if she’s the first to say each one. 

“Different things, my life, my um—” She pauses for a moment before she bites her lip, a heavy sigh leaving her lips but it’s one of relief. “My job.” 

There’s some disposition in your heart, how it feels to be lost back in a past memory. Eternally, a glimpse of your pleading meets a moment you keep under lock and key. 

But you don’t ask. Anxiously you gulp down the rest of your drink. You’re not a fan of how it burns but it’s better than giving into what she wants. Giving her the satisfaction of being enamoured with the possibility of her being home. It’s what you dreamed of four years ago. 

You wanted to believe the well has dried up — she’s too late. Even the idea planted in your mind sounds falsified. There’s an abundance of desperation threatening to make home, torturing the life out of you with the greediness rooted in fresh soil. 

It begs for a chance to blossom. 

“You can ask me. I won’t bite, promise.” 

With cheeks, rosing red like cherries, you wonder what else finds itself blossoming beneath the surface. 

You take the safer route. “What country are you going to this time?” The sorrow in your voice is palpable. 

Abby ignores you. 

“You know that green and white house in the countryside, the fields so open you could get lost in them, the one we always talked about. Do you remember it?” 

“Abby, I hope you have a point to all of this or perhaps you’re just feeling particularly cruel.” 

Of course you remember it. The amount of times you’ve come into town and passed by it. At one point, it’s what the both of you wanted until your needs and hers got lost in the shuffle. Two hearts of the same beat drifting from one another in tragic harmony. 

“I bought it. I’m flying to England to do one last surgery that my assistant already had scheduled last month and I’m coming home. Opening a private practice here. I’m done flying out. If patients want to see me, they can come here.” 

“W-What, um—” You stutter out, trying to think of a reasonable response, anything but kissing her or crying. It’s not fair. It’s not right. This is all you had wanted. 

Four years ago. 

─── 

April, 2024. 

“A-Abby, oh god—” 

She’s smirking like a goddamn idiot. All meat and muscle. The strong v-line that made you wanna slap it right off of her. No one should ever look this good. It’s such a punishment. A curse. Devil’s karma on a double-edge sword but somehow you’re eating both ends. 

“Mhm, that good? I know you’ve always been loud, baby, but you’re singing like a perfect angel.” Abby grunts as she thrust upwards, watching you squirm as your full-seated on the baby-blue strap she’s fucking you with. “Those pretty girls that keep posting you not enough?” 

“Are you jealous?” Lifting an eyebrow but she doesn’t respond. Thrusting into you at a slow pace, watching you slowly crumble before her haunting eyes, never straying for even a moment. 

“Jealous of what exactly? It’s not like they hold a fucking candle to me. I’ll snuff them out before they have a chance to light the match.” With a gentle hand, she guides you closer to her, your forehead pressed against hers, meeting her deep thrusts with a slow grind. 

Her coaxing arm wraps around your waist, tickling your spine as she does so, searing your lips to hers. It coats your entire body with a heat, blossoming at your heart before it spreads into every inch of your body. Laying waste to any part of you trying to go anywhere but here. 

“I’m not as easy as you think, Abby.” 

“Never said you were. For everyone else, I'm sure it’s very difficult…if you aren’t me.” Abby does the thing. Lips touching but despite the desire, she enjoys watching you chase. You want her, every piece of her. Each part she’s shown you, you cling onto it like a lifeline, hoping she’ll unravel another momentum for you to hold onto. 

Abby will leave and the time spent with you is all you have left. Trying to think of anything else, you slip into the role she wants you to play. It’s all you can do. 

“God, you’re so full of yourself.” 

“I think you’re kind of full of me at the moment.” Planting her feet on the bed she pushes a few thrusts that shut you up, gasping as your lips brush against her she doesn’t take the bare. 

Abby is perfectly content with watching you fall apart, a speciality she hasn’t had the opportunity of exercising while she’s been away. You fall into the crook in her neck, lips kissing at the exposed flesh as you take what she gives. 

“I know, babygirl, you love my cock too much to stay away. I can hear how wet you are for me. Singing to me with your pussy like the pretty angel you are.” Abby moans when your teeth sink in, sucking at the flesh until you’re satisfied with the marks you’re leaving behind. 

“Please— A-Abby, you love to talk so much shit, would you just make me come?” 

“Then work for it, baby.” That’s all it takes before you’re bouncing on her cock, riding as deep as Abby will allow. Lazily, she props herself on her elbows as she takes a look at the show. The double A’s on your left hip are still inked and Abby smooths her thumb over it. 

A smile she can’t help but show. 

“God, Abby would you just—” 

“Still a brat.” Abby chuckles, slapping your ass in the process which causes you to shudder. 

Leaning over you whisper in her ear, “So, you do remember a thing or two.” 

Abby flips you over, your head plush against her satin pillows, sinking your neck so you lay comfortably. Dildo still laying perfectly within you, as she smooths her calloused fingertips on your thighs, smoothing along the surface. 

A much more gentle touch than what you’ve been used to in the past year. You didn’t mind it to be fast, rough, even a little messy at times. You enjoyed it when it was with someone new. Thrived in the throes of a meaningless fuck, where a delicate hand wasn’t required. If you need to get off with no complications, it’s the best option. 

Abby was never just a quick fuck. It wasn’t how any of this started and when she needs a smidge of stress to relieve, she’s always been a woman to take her time. Wind you up so tight, her hand is the only release you’re willing to grab onto. A tidal wave she wants to bring to the shore until you’re paralyzed by her wave. 

“It seems like you need to be reminded of who you're with.” With a look of curiosity flourishing under the prosperity of spring, she spreads your legs far enough to make room for her build. 

You take a few heartbeats to check out her physique, which has only grown stronger since the last time you’ve seen her. High and mighty with toned shoulders that would put Hercules to utter shame, her six pack still fully in tack with freckles adorning every part of her body. 

Never would you grow tired of looking at her in all her glory, but that’s all anyone sees. The first time she opened up to you is the moment you fell in love with her. Maybe there’s more. You seem to lose track of them all. 

You’re the first to ever ask me anything about myself, you know? Most women just flirt with me, compliment my body, or they fuck me with their eyes first glance. Of course, it’s nice, but it’s hard feeling like I’m anything more than a body for them to use. Like that’s all I’m good for. 

I do believe you’re more than what other people reduce you to. I’m more interested in this amazing and kind brain of yours. Everything else is just a bonus. It’s a rarity to find someone as beautiful on the outside as they are on the inside. I think that’s what makes you so special, Abby. 

The moment flashes, a film rolling behind your eyes and you almost feel her words lace over skin as if you’re transported to the exact moment she said them. 

Not a soul sees the person that you see. They don’t see the curve of her smile when you call out her name. When she’s nervous, she’ll pull at the ends of her golden strands, threading at her split ends she so desperately needs to cut. 

Abby loves to read books, but she’ll cry right in front of you if you get a book she’s been eyeing but won’t buy for herself. Don’t have the time, it’s what she always used to say. The high demands of her career never allowed for such a thing. 

No hobbies, no life, and certainly no love. 

Memories transform into recent nightmares, the horrors of your insecurities bloom in the root of your mind, reminding you of all the ways you can’t be enough for her. On somber nights when your imagination is feeling particularly cruel, you have dreams of the nights you used to have. A simple dream where it doesn’t end in divorce and indifference.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Her soft voice breaks you of the self-captured spell you cursed yourself in. “What’s wrong?” 

This is the part you loathe and it’s almost enough to boil the blood in your veins. It’s not her fault she knows you like the back of her hand. One glance and she knows if you’re upset, gleefully happy, or steaming with jealousy. Abby can see it all. 

“M’good,” But you know the words won’t be enough. You know she’ll want a reason. It’s one you can’t freely give, even if it’s what she wants. “I missed you, that’s all.” 

And that much is true. The sun yearns for the moon, but the two are always destined to be apart. Her aspiration to be the best in her career is always being held over anything else held near and dear to Abby. You would never fault her for it, it’s why you served the divorce papers in silence — maybe it’s why she signed them without a second thought — abstinence is better than rejection. 

“I miss you, too. I always do.” Even if it’s selfish, Abby can’t help herself. 

You lose yourself in the tidal wave of affection, bound to be pulled by her light. A star that was never meant to be yours to begin with but you still couldn’t help but chase. 

A month? A couple weeks? Then she’ll be boarding a new flight, to a new state, country, or continent and she’ll forget all about you. All you need is a moment. One of self-sacrifice. The heart barely beating in your chest will chastise you for it later, but for now, you have this one night with her. 

A single night to pretend she’s still yours.  

Instead of telling her how much you don’t want her to go, or that you never should have filed for divorce, you allow your lips to melt into hers. You see an island of sapphire, an entire land of love blazing in her eyes, before you allow yourself to get lost in her touch. 

It’s when the scorch of the sun seems worth it. Any moment you’re close to her, feeling the abundance of devotion laced in her velvet tongue, whispering promises she never intends to keep. The potential of more rumbles beneath, waiting to catch her, but she’s always running off in the opposite direction. 

This is all you have. With salacious greed, you welcome it like the sin nestled in your heart. You feel her movements still, but you pull her closer, a soft plea falls from your lips reeks of desperation but you don’t have half a mind to care. 

“You know I’ll give you whatever you want but I’m not going to keep going unless you ask me to.” Abby whispers in the moonlight room. It’s so gentle, if you couldn’t help but look anywhere but her you might have missed it. 

“I-I’m fine, Abby. Really.” You promise her, but it falls on deaf ears. 

Her accusatory eyes dial in, squinting so loudly at you, “You’re about two seconds away from crying.” 

“It’s….the cock….it’s too much.” Trying to keep a flat face, you bite your lip, before the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. 

“You’re still not a very good liar, baby.” Abby purrs. Her voice goes an octave lower than she needs it to. “It’s not the cock. I’ve fucked you with bigger, so why don’t you use your words and tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” 

“Last time this happened, I cried for three days after you left and I made a promise I wouldn’t be here again and now I’m here and I know as soon as this ends you’ll forget this ever happened and go on with your amazing career and yet again I’ll be left in the dust to fend for myself and—” 

“Woah, baby, slow down. Alright? Take a deep breath and breathe. You’re getting yourself worked up, okay?” 

“But it’s the truth. You’re not even denying it.” You exasperate, groaning as you’ve overcomplicated what was supposed to be a fuck. Only a fuck. But it never is. Not when you’ll always be consumed by your love for her. Not when she’s everything you want. 

You couldn’t be just a meaningless one-night stand. For anyone else? You could. But not to the woman who you love beyond comprehension. 

Abby wrestles with herself. Contemplate her next words and you see the exact moment she gives into something you silently wish for. In only a language she understands. 

A silent wish to be granted — tell me how important I am to you too. 

She leans down, mirroring your position from earlier, with her scarred cheek pressed against your cheek as she delicately whispers, “I think about you every second of every day. I spend every minute missing this. Every hour apart I wish for this, being close to you, pretending things aren’t the way I’ve made them. But I can't change the past, so I can focus on making you feel good —  I’ll be yours forever even if you aren’t mine.” 

“Do you really mean that?” 

“Yes, I do.” Abby confesses to you, sealing her promise in her lips. 

Abby gives sweet pecks along your neck as she peppers your face with litters of love. Making her way back to your lips once again, searing her love until you feel every bit of it. Hoping it’s enough for you to hold onto. 

Abby groans as she starts to move her hips, and god do you take it so fucking well. Picking up right where the two of you left off, but this time you wrap your legs around her waist, allowing her to fuck you at a new angle. 

It’s then when she starts to pick up the pace, brutal hips snapping forward as she lets herself go. The power of her thrust sends the headboard fleeing to the wall. The worn out bed frame she won’t bother to replace creaks under the weight, threatening to snap. 

“No one is as sweet as you, can take my cock like you do. Fuck, you’re so perfect.” She spills all her secrets, the ones threatening to come out of her mouth all night but you still hear them. 

It’s getting her off just as much as it does for you. But she wants you there faster. With a sly of hand she applies pressure on your bundle of nerves, your swollen clit thumping from being touched by its owner, the only one who knew how to pull the string just right. 

A symphony Abby created; no one else stood a chance. 

She watches as you pull yourself closer to her, bringing her small tits against your chest, grabbing you by the hips, losing herself in each thrust. The whimpering slips, any effort to conceal gets pulled from the soft strokes to your clit. 

Tugging at her blonde strands as you pull her lips towards yours again as Abby fucks you as if it’s an art form. Clenching her stomach as she hears you aggressively getting louder, with each thrust there’s a line being drawn from you to her, forever cementing her dedication of vows already broken. 

“Abby, I’m—” 

“I know sweet girl, you can let go for me. I got you.” Abby whispers silently into the night as she gets you through it. The moment your body is convulsing around 

her, grabbing any part of her you can, she kisses you the moment you start to come. 

Always, she’s been one for the details. Paying attention to every little thing about you. Nonsense stories you half-expect her to listen to, never goes unnoticed by her. From remembering your mother’s favorite cake, to your favored choice of sour candy, or how you take your coffee in the morning — Abby pays attention to everything. 

It wasn’t enough she was the most charming woman you’ve ever met, she had to be an angel too. Even through the vicious fights, moments as sharp as a razor blade, she never seemed to leave a mark. Still, Abby was soft. Like a perfectly melted marshmallow in the fire pit, roasted around all the edges but she never seems to burn. 

She looks at you with a wondrous love, shattering-encompassing forever that never comes. One you’ll die waiting for it. 

Quickly you remove yourself from the bed, suddenly the sheet turns into hot lava, scorning you as she looks upon you with admiration. A love you can’t afford to keep any longer. 

“I have to go.” You find your top to be torn by Abby’s hands. 

Putting a pair of boxers on her body, she drifts into her closet, finding her favorite shirt before she helps guide it on your naked frame. 

“This was the last time.” Setting eyes on her, meticulous hand smoothing the cotton in hopes it might merge with your skin. A part of her potentially entangled with you, forever. “We can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for either of us. Neither one of can seem to move on—” 

“I never wanted to move on or a divorce.” Abby confesses but it’s falling on deaf ears, you won’t meet her eyes as you look for the other boot gone missing. 

“Abby, you chose your career. I don’t blame you for it but you did. This will never work. You signed the papers without even fighting. You gave up and I’m not blaming you — I did too.” 

“But what if things changed? What if my job changed and I was here?” She’s desperate, clinging onto anything to make you stay. She wishes you had malice, screaming, even a slap to her stomach or thigh, a pinch to keep her from this ongoing nightmare. 

You kissed her sweetly, and there’s poison on your lips and she’s the only antidote. 

“We both know it never will. The world always needs you more. And I’m just—” Bitterly, her ignorance crunches like dead leaves under your boots. Walking you out the door, in what you hope will be the last. 

You can’t afford for this to happen again. Old habits seeping into you and she’s the most difficult one to kick. 

“But what if something changed?”

What if I changed? 

“Abby?” 

“Yeah, sunshine?” The name wounds you. 

“Don’t do that.” You want to scream, punch a wall, wish for a different future than the one you were given. But your kindness seeps in. The faith of love you hold onto. “Not when it’s the only thing I want.” 

The only thing I need. It’s what you want to say but decide not to. 

“Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” 

“I know, Abs.” 

───

Present. 

Four years of being divorced, and neither of you knew how to operate without the other. Two souls extending to each other, in complete tangent with the other. Secretly thriving off the joined consciousness, Abby holds onto every piece of you she can. 

Even if the shards she shattered pierce through her hand, bleeding her dry of every ounce of blood, if it’s for you — the ends justify the ache. Not once has she wavered. Your warning was enough. Keeping her head under, Abby did what she thought was best. 

Surgery. Saving hearts. It’s the one thing she hadn’t failed at. Maybe she couldn’t save the two of you, but she could save the heart in her hands. The passion she felt when she sutured a heart, or teaching interns a new technique that would soon be named after her — there couldn’t be anything else like it. 

Not even you, the love she’ll never forget, could replicate the adrenaline coursing through her veins when Abby was in the operating room. For four years, without the worries of failing you again, she reached unseen heights. Paving the way for all cardio vascular surgeons. Not just for the women but for everyone who had passions just like hers. 

Even with all the accomplishments, the awards, the undeniable concrete ego built in the process, when she’s around you — every bit of her seems to fade — and you’re an angel with a freighting bright halo guiding her home. 

Abby’s been told that nothing would compare to playing god in an operating room, being able to do the impossible. The most inoperable of hearts would be placed in her trained hands, she would make water into wine, an otherwise dead organ would be brought to life because of her. 

All she could do was be the very best surgeon, save as many people as she can, and pretend her heart wasn’t on the other side of the country waiting for you to crave a taste of her again. 

Cruel-hearted with a god-complex, the modern medicine Messiah begs for you to love her again as you once did. Abby’s selfish enough to be bent on receiving what she had once. A steadfast love she had taken for granted once. There wouldn’t be a second. 

Love remains lingering in your eyes, it tries to flee when you get lost in her stormy-blue eyes, but you’ve always had a thing for chasing mayhem. Even if it’s the last thing you want to see, she can’t run away this time. 

“Why would you tell me this?” Scorning Abby as you down another drink the bartender leaves in front of you. “You know I’m in a relationship, you know this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to being happy again, why can’t you just leave me alone?” 

Another lie. But there’s too many to count. It’s the only stretched truth to separate her from you. 

“I-I wasn't, um, I was trying to—” There’s no sense, not when she sees the betrayal simmering in your eyes, begging for a logical explanation. She’s just not sure if she can find one. All she knows is you deserved better but this is all Abby can give. 

“Excuse me, Anderson.” She hears your platform heels ticking against the tile, nearly as angry as you must feel. For a second, she thinks about letting you be. Allowing you the space to forget this ever happened. This is what she does. Abby lets you go until you calm down, your love boiling down to complacency each time she drags you through the mud. 

For the first time, Abby wants to fight. She wants you to scream in her face, yell at her with devotion full of greed — begging for an ounce of deranged sentiment — but trying to build a relationship out of silence? She’ll end up failing again. So, when you’re almost too far, she chases after you. 

The elevator is just about to shut when Abby squeezes her fingers through the elevator, pushing her frame through as you look at her, tears threatening to make home, where they forever belong. A vow of heartache sworn as each tear tattoos your skin. 

“What are you doing?” You’re pissed. Beyond fucking pissed with your pouty lips and furrowed eyebrows pinching your eyes into a squint. Perfectly soft jaw clenches as you dig your heels into the carpet. The fibers are ripped with every subtle drag. 

“I’m fighting because I know as much as you want to be happy with her, you can’t. It’s why she’s not here with you tonight. It’s why no has stuck after me. It’s why I can’t date anyone that’s not you. And it’s why this has never really ended.” The scent you love so desperately overwhelms you as she steps close, leaving hardly any room for you to breathe. 

“You signed those divorce papers, you ended all of this.” 

“I made a mistake? Okay? I fucked up. I thought your life would be so much easier without me constantly putting you second in my life. I gave up on us and the most decent gift I thought I could give was giving you a better chance with someone else.” Abby relents, a half-apology being uttered and you're trying to process all of it. 

She deserves to be pushed away. You want nothing to do with her, but she starts kissing along your neck, the sweet spot behind your ear, dragging her tongue over sensitive skin before she leaves a mark you’ll have to explain. Abby’s always been fond of possession, and she can’t help herself when it comes to you, she knows just what to do. 

“I’m sorry.” Each time her lips drift to another spot along your neck, another apology is spilled. Every inch of your neck might as well be inked, her tenacious voracity met with the gloss of her tongue, edging you further into the grave she continues to dig. 

“This doesn’t make everything you did okay, Abby. You hurt me, left me rotting on a fucking shelf and now that you’re ready I’m supposed to drop my life for you? Give you everything I would’ve died waiting for?” Your words escape with brittle need, a crack threatening the dam to flood. 

“Give me nothing, give me everything, walk out this elevator and never speak to me again.” Abby presses forward, her freckled cheek pressed to yours, her sinful-sultry voice sweltering your body like summer in the middle of July. “Whatever you want, It’s yours. I’m only sorry it couldn’t be given to you sooner.” 

The elevator announces its arrival as you straighten out your dress and as you begin walking away Abby accepts her fate. For what feels like a lifetime, heaven engulfs her tenuous hands and without saying a word you maneuver her into your path. Pulling her by the end of her tie. 

Partnering with the silence as you open the door to your room, the door shutting behind Abby with a soft shutter. Abby stays glued to the door as you grab a glass of wine, filling it halfway before you sit on the edge of the bed, watching her squirm. 

“Is there another girl? Someone else I need to be worried about?” Abby shoves her hands deep in her pockets, her heel lightly tapping against the door. With a shake of her head, she dismisses the idea entirely. 

“C’mon, what’s her name? An intern, a colleague, a boss?” You keep pushing but she won’t budge. “You expect me to believe there has been no one?” 

With her cheeks flaring pink, the tips of her ears painted violet, you think it’s time to swallow your words. “You mean there’s only been—” 

“You.” Abby looks embarrassed, as if her skin is about to consume her alive. Rubbing the wedding band she has tattooed on her skin, in all four years she hadn’t bothered to cover it. Before setting the glass down, taking one final swing, mustering up the courage to give into her pouty-blue eyes. “Since college, I haven’t, uh, not with anyone else—” 

“You have women flirt with you all the time. You’re everyone’s fucking dream. There’s no goddamn way you haven’t had sex in a year.” 

“I only have one dream—” Abby steps forward, closing some of the distance between you. “I replay it over and over in my head when I’m alone.” 

“What does the Dr. Anderson dream about, huh? Enlighten me.” 

“The green house on Maple street.” Abby’s words cut deeper than you anticipate, your next breath trapped in your throat. “It’s not something cruel I’m using to taunt you with. It’s real. It’s yours but it could be ours. I’m four years too late, but I want to give you what I promised.” 

“What do you mean by mine?” 

Abby clears her throat, getting choked up as she paces in your room, her broad frame tensing as she tries to find a way to confess. A cloud of wonder swarms in her grey-blue eyes. 

“The deed for the house is in your name.” Immediately, you let the words sink in. Trying to rationalize it, trying to twist this into something else. There’s no way you’re hearing her correctly. She wouldn’t, right? 

“You bought our dream home for me?” Sheeply, Abby nods. The apple of her cheeks resemble a rose, sheepishly embarrassed. 

“My success, the life that I have, all of it is because you pushed me through med school. You wouldn’t give up on me even when I had given up on myself. I always wanted to do this for you. I always wanted to take care of you but I lost sight of what was important to me. I forgot why I even wanted to do this in the first place.” 

“Your dad.” You tried to smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You loved Jerry, he welcomed you in the family with open arms. But when he got sick, it changed Abby. Her work became her life when he didn’t get better. And soon, it’s all she became. 

“He would hate how much I fucked up everything with you. I just felt like it was the one thing I needed to still have him here with me. Like if I didn’t prioritize this—” 

“Then there would be nothing left.” You took the words right out of her mouth. 

“Look, I’m sorry I kissed you. Really, I shouldn’t have. You have a girlfriend. Someone who loves you and I won’t get in the middle of it. I’ve hurt you for so long. It makes me physically ill and I won’t do it anymore. I can’t. All I want is for you to be happy. That’s why I bought the house for you. It was always something I wanted to do for you. Regardless if we’re together or not.” 

Her pacing hadn’t stopped, she still kept moving but then nodded as she finished. This was her peace. She could move on. The both of you could move on. The ink had dried up long ago. You should move on. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Okay, I’m gonna go now.” Somehow, she transformed into the college student who knocked on your door. Confident but god, she was so unsure of herself and it still makes your heart beat a million times a minute. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You turn away from her, “Not anymore.” 

You still expect her to leave, or make you look at her with tears in your eyes. You could cry a river for her and it still wouldn’t seem enough. You can’t face her. Not when one look will have you give in. The words left unsaid stain two hearts. 

I don’t have a girlfriend because I still love you. 

Like the anchor she’s always been, she wraps your frame in hers, holding you from behind. A faith of love. A testimony broken and healed by time and soothed with distance. 

There was so much you had to discuss, feelings you had to iron out fresh. Like the slightly wrinkled shirt she’d worn on the day you met. But on this day, you decided to have hope. That one day, you could climb the wall Abby built and restore your love in the vow you once sang in tune. 

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you.” But Abby sniffs out the smile. 

“I know, sunshine.” 

um. so yeah. that happened. i was trying to do a somewhat realistic ending without shredding some hearts......and i just love abby a little too much ♡

[boxeom]

(18+ cw. yandere, cw. sort of dubcon (reader acts like they aren't into it, they are), cw. light pain play, cw. brat taming if you squint, soft dom, spanking, punishment, rough fingering, implied overstimulation, mentally ill Colonel Caleb, the gloves stay on, based on a miserably horny dream I just woke up from, not proofread- I need this gone)

Colonel Caleb who's bending you over his lap after your last little stunt... he doesn't get why you can't just listen to him. As much as he wants to keep you inside and never let the world see you again, you're free to roam Skyhaven all you'd like. He doesn't want to clip your wings. He just wants to make sure you know there's still a leash. All you had to do was keep your location on.

Luckily, Caleb had the forethought to install a modification on your phone that tracked you through your proximity to the many solar towers throughout Skyhaven- even if you turned your phone off. He'd even gone out of his way to make sure you didn't find out. Now, though? Caleb realizes he's loosened your leash too far for comfort. You are straying too far from him. And you know it.

All you had to do is listen. Is that really so much to ask?

He doesn't like having to punish you, but he can only give so many passes until his patience starts to wear thin (and even then he still tries to handle you with care). His grip around your wrists tightens whenever you try to squirm or pull out of his hold. A stern gloved hand strikes sharply against your bare ass each time you don't give him the answer he's looking for.

"Why did you go there?"

"What were you doing?"

"Who were you seeing?"

In truth, Caleb already knows everything. You've gotten better at hiding things over the years, but you're not nearly as silver tongued as you think you are. He just wants to hear it from you. He wants to know that you know what you did was wrong.

For every lie, a spank. For every attempt to play dumb, a spank. For every teary eyed plea to let you go, a spank (though it takes all his willpower not to give into you when you're looking up at him like that). He's not that sadistic, he doesn't particularly enjoy seeing you miserable. So- as always- he gives you concessions and rewards. He massages the welts that are swelling on your skin, cooing and murmuring to you about how you just need to answer his questions and he'll make you feel so good. He kisses you as much as you want because he needs to remind you that he's not the bad guy here. He gives you breaks, gives you time to catch your breath and think about your decisions and how you want to navigate yourself from here on out.

When you've finally realized that he's not letting this go (which takes some time- you're far too stubborn), you're spilling everything. And, of course, he's proud. You apologize and swear you'll never do it again through sniffles and hiccups (though there really was no reason to say sorry, there's nothing you could ever do that would make him keep his forgiveness from you). It's like a switch gets flipped the second you're being your sweet self again. Caleb thanks you sincerely for your honesty as he presses soft kisses to the crown of your head, soothing you and talking you down. He praises you for taking your punishment so well and promises to make it up to you.

And he does.

You've completely soaked his pant leg throughout the entire ordeal. It seems some of that distress you'd been playing up was just an act. You certainly fooled him.

Three leather covered fingers slide easily inside you (despite the whines of "it's too much" you insist upon). You're tight and drooling down his wrist. He goes slow at first, works you up and up and up until you're complaining that you want it faster and harder. He's fucking you on his fingers mercilessly- pressing against that spot that has your legs twitching and kicking uselessly behind you without sign of letting up anytime soon.

By the third orgasm he's wrung out of you, you're begging him for a moment of pause. Which he, (un)fortunately, doesn't give you. As much as this is a reward, it's a lesson. You need to know what happens the next time you do this, after all.

[airbiscuitz]

One Last Night

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

*I know that the picture is not JJ but I used it because it fits the vibe of this story*

Summary: JJ plans to skip town after a blowout with his father, but you catch him packing. Upset he didn’t tell you, you ask for one last night together. You both argued, reconnect, and spend a bittersweet night wrapped in love and the pain of goodbye—uncertain if you'll ever find a way back to each other.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word count: 506

Warnings: Angst?...

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟

You find him half-folded over his duffel bag, clothes crumpled from the rush and his mind somewhere else entirely. The room smells like him—salty, sun-worn, familiar—and suddenly you hate it for feeling like goodbye.

“JJ,” you say, your voice catching the moment it leaves your throat. He freezes. Doesn't turn. Just zips the bag a little slower, like maybe if he drags it out, this won’t hurt as much.

“When were you going to tell me?” you ask, trying to keep it even, but it breaks anyway. “Or were you just going to disappear?”

He finally looks up, and his eyes—God, his eyes—are red-rimmed and shining with everything he won’t say. And you felt your heart drop to your stomach in the process of seeing the storm in his eyes, harsh waves hitting each other, like how his father would meet his body with closed fists of nothing but abuse. Slowly, you let your eyes travel down to his collarbone where a deadly bruise was forming, slowly but painful.

“I didn’t want to make it harder than it already is,” he mutters. “For either of us.”

“So you just… leave?” You step closer, heart slamming against your ribs. “JJ, I’m your girlfriend. You don’t get to make this kind of decision without me.”

He closes his eyes, jaw tightening. “You think I wanted this? You think this is easy for me?” His voice is sharp now, brittle and aching. “After last night with my dad—if I stay, I’ll break. You saw it in his eyes, same as I did. I’m not safe here.”

Tears prick your eyes, but you blink them back. “Then take me with you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You argued, head held high with determination. Your heart longing to find the same rhythm as his. Because life without JJ Maybank is a hurricane that will mess up your life.

“Because we both know you won’t. You’ve got a life here. Friends. Family. A future.”

You shake your head. “I had you, JJ.”

And the silence that follows that word is unbearable.

He runs a hand through his hair, pacing. “I can’t stay. I can't ask you to wait. I don't even know where I'm going.”

“Then don’t ask,” you whisper. “But give me one night. One more memory.”

You cried, hands shaking, eyes pleading and knees weak when he let out a pained noise. A sob, a noise where he grew familiar with making. And he hated it. He always took note of how much you tried to make him laugh, to make him smile, and he felt like he was putting all of your efforts to waste because of what he's doing right now.

He looks up at you like you’ve split him in two. “Why?”

“Because I’m not going to let the last time I see you be you shoving socks into a backpack like I’m not even real to you.” You take a shaky breath. “Because if you're going to leave, I want to remember what it felt like when you loved me out loud.”

That breaks him. He walks to you slowly, like his legs aren’t working right, and when he finally wraps his arms around you, it’s desperate. His face presses into your neck and you feel the tremble in his chest.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispers. “Not for a second.”

“Then stay for tonight,” you whisper back.

Later that night, you lie on the sand where the two of you had your first kiss, wrapped in one blanket and the sound of the waves. His fingers are laced with yours, thumb brushing idly against your skin.

No words. Just breathing.

But everything unsaid buzzes in the space between you: the apologies, the promises, the ache of tomorrow.

When the sun begins to rise, soft pink bleeding into the horizon, JJ kisses your forehead like a period at the end of a goodbye.

“I’ll find my way back to you,” he murmurs.

“You better,” you say, tears catching in your throat, “or I’ll come find you.”

And when he walks away that morning, duffel slung over his shoulder and eyes cast down, he doesn’t look back.

But you know—he wants to.

And maybe, just maybe, he will.

[that-tmr-girl]

Let Them Watch

Minho couldn't care less if all eyes are on you.

832 Words

Public fingering

Greenie night was more than alive. To be fair, it is every time. There are many things to celebrate here. When life's the same routine everyday, it starts to weigh on you. It grows heavy and boring, like the world doesn't have color.

Now it's painted with the oranges and yellows of flames and strange gold if Gally's drink. There's bright smiles all around and eyes that have grown from lost and confused to laid back and alright.

Nothing will ever beat these nights. Nothing.

“What's on your mind over there?”

I looked over at Minho, giving him a shrug as an answer. I love him and sharing my thoughts, but sometimes they're more peaceful in my head. Saying it aloud may jinx it, and I really can't risk that. Not here. Not on this.

“Didn't know you were keeping secrets now,”He remarked.

“There's no secrets,”I promised,rolling my eyes at him.

“Well, the world has some secrets,”He deadpanned, pulling the blanket around our legs again. Seeing as it was only getting colder, goosebumps traveling up my arms, I didn't mind.

“You have such a smart mouth,”I sighed, propping myself back as I gazed out at everything. Instead of doing the same, taking in the view, he leaned closer, his head rested on my shoulder. I stayed still, waiting for him to pull me close like usual.

“You love my mouth though, don't you?”He whispered in my ear, making me freeze. Seemingly unbothered by my reaction, but since it’s Minho actually just enjoying it, he trailed his hand up my thigh. Finding the ability to move, I scanned the group of boys around us, some closer than others.

“Minho, we-”

“And my fingers too,”He kept going, placing his hand over my clothed pussy as he grinded his palm against me, making me squirm against my will. “See? Like that?”

“We could-we could get caught,”I whispered. Not that it helped the grin crossing my lips or the wetness dripping in my panties. Not that it stopped me from unzipping my pants and grabbing his hand, starting to lead him inside.

“That is a possibility,”He said matter-of-factly.

Glancing around, when I confirmed nobody was concentrated on us, I slightly lifted myself to pull my pants down to my knees. Raising his eyebrow at me, he gave me a small smirk before reaching inside of my panties.

Knowing I had to be careful, I leaned my head back and closed my eyes as though I was just taking in the atmosphere and not Minho’s hand inside my cunt.

Running his fingers along my slit, he toyed with me. He was almost at my entrance, so close to being inside of me. So close but still being a dick by not giving it to me.

“Minho,”I hissed.

“Yeah? Something wrong, baby?”

“Don't tease-”

“Hey! Found you shanks!”

I quickly raised my head at the voices that weren't supposed to be joining us tonight. Especially not now. Taking advantage of my shock, he plunged his finger inside of me, making my eyes clench shut before I remembered Jeff, Winston, and Fry were right there.

“Yeah. You all gonna take a seat?”

I shot Minho a scolding look only for him to start rubbing circles on my clit, making me drop my head as I gritted my teeth. Fuck, why do I let him do this to me? Why do I let him ruin me like this?

As he thrust another finger into me and started pumping, I got my answer. Biting down on my lip, I did my best to both not acknowledge anyone else's presence and turn invisible. It's just Minho, I, and his fingers pleasuring me.

I tuned out their talking as I gripped the blanket, keeping myself covered. Increasing his pace inside of me, he curled his fingers, bringing a knot to my core. He was reaching everywhere he could, his thumb rubbing faster circles against my clit.

“Y/N?”

“Wh-what?”I sputtered. As he repeated his question, Minho grinded his palm against my clit, covering all of my pussy. His pace was ruthless now, almost inhumane. My hips thrust up into him as I clenched the blanket into my fists, feeling myself grow closer.

“She's fine. Just tired,”Minho covered, reaching over to grab my thigh with his free hand, keeping me on the ground. A whimper finally left me as I was riding his hand anyway.

“Fell today,”I covered, pretending not to notice my voice being more breathy as I clenched around him. Looking over at him since I knew I wouldn't be able to control my face, I let my eyes roll back to my head as I released, spilling down his hand and into my once clean panties. The pressure I thought would never leave subsided, leaving me in a numb heaven as I let my senses remain gone for a little bit, stretching out the high from absolutely everything.

[respectfulrebel]

You can’t just keep creating the best Noahs out there and making me fall in love with all of them 😭😭😭

This chapter truly had everything and made me go from 😳🫠 to 😤🤬 to 🥺🥰 and I’m gonna spam you with my favourite lines now cause you asked for it 😅

He slowly put his hands under your t-shirt, teasing your skin and testing if you'll let him. He moved them up your sides until he reached your breasts and took them both in his hands. You disconnected your lips and took a deep breath, not expecting this kind of touch. In your office. With an unlocked door. Oh god.

ALREADY???? Okayyyy 🫠🫠🫠 fucking hot btw

"By the way, you're dirty too." he winked at you and left your office.

🤭🤭🤭

"Because I want to introduce her to her future daughter in law."

Aww 🥺

"Did you just compare me to a dog?" he laughed but mimicked her actions and let his eyes read over the menu.

🤭 he is kinda like a puppy tbf

You felt Noah's hand move your hair on the side where you didn't hold your phone to your ear and soon his hand was replaced with his lips.

🫠 little tease

"Are you crazy?" you turned around in your chair to face Noah who was smiling back at you.

"You liked it." he knew you did.

🤭🤭🤭🤭

"Okay. But can I still kiss you?" he was teasing you at this point.

Why is he so cute 🥺

"Okay minions, get ready, the tour starts in 5 minutes!" you heard Noah's voice and after a few more steps you saw him standing next to the ladder.

He will be such a good dad 😭😭😭

You noticed a balloon in the shape of a firetruck around him and your eyes followed the string only to find out that Noah had it tied around his belt.

I saw that picture you posted of the balloon a while ago and I knew it was related to this but now I know the context and that’s so cute 😭

Half an hour later Noah slid down the big pole and you heard all of the tiny voices go "Woow!" from the hole that connected the main floor with the first floor.

Now I wanna see that too 🫠

And your heart was melting at that sight. Seeing Noah in his uniform with a small kid sitting in his lap was something you didn't expect to see today.

Omg 🥹

"Plans. With. Who?" he made dramatic pauses between each word.

I love how playful he issssssss 😭😭😭

"Will you be mad if I sleep with one of them?" you had to laugh at her face when she saw the group of big men sitting around one big table. "Not hotshot of course."

That whole scene gave major romcom vibes and I love it 😂🤭

"I can't let you sit here by yourself, kitten."

Eww get lost 😤

"So, we're gonna leave now. If you want to get her a drink so badly I'm sure you won't mind paying for their tab."

We love a protective boy 🥰

"Noah." he heard the uncertainty in your voice and dropped to his knees. Your eyes shot open, "What are you doing?"

"Begging." he chuckled back at you.

"Get up."

"No."

"Noah."

"Tess."

Fray boy Noah has some serious competition 😩 God, why is he so perfect 😭

Your hands grazed the skin of his thighs and your lips kissed the soft skin of his tummy. You wanted to tease him longer, but your need to touch him was stronger.

🫠🫠🫠

You heard him take a sharp breath and mumble something like "Fucking tease." when you kissed the skin between his jaw and ear. Found it.

Aahajsjshhajdjs I love theeeeeem 😭

"Please what baby?" Please me, you wanted to say but wasn't bold enough.

"Go lower." you whispered and he laughed at your sudden shyness.

"Come on, don't tell me you're shy. Say it."

"I'm gonna make you say it."

He’s a menace 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

"You can give me one more. Come on, pretty girl, I know you can."

The way he calls her pretty girl 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠 I think that’s my favourite nickname ever 10/10

The slow movements of his fingers combined with his wet tongue made you see stars. Almost literally, because the approaching orgasm got you squeezing your eyes so hard you were sure you saw little sparks behind your eyelids.

"Fuck, I don't have any condoms."

"Are you kidding me?"

Uh-oh 🫢

"Promise you'll pull out."

TESS!!! I get it though… 🤭

Noah sat back on his knees, stroking his own dick, but his eyes were on you. You kept holding eye contact while you were both getting yourself off.

HOT

"You're so fucking hot. I'm never letting you go."

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 you better!

"I want to date you officially. I'm gonna tell the guys and the captain. If you want to, of course."

He didn't expect to end your first night together like this, but he was exhausted from the terrible nightmare that he let you hold him until he fell asleep again.

Ohhh babyyy 🥺😭

"For fucks sake." he mumbled, still between your thigs. He kissed your clit for the last time before he pulled his t-shirt back on and before he was out of the door he said "Gonna finish this later."

For fucks sake indeed 🤭

Dating a firefighter comes with lots of stress, especially if you're also part of the department. You know what can happen and that no tomorrow is promised when he's at work.

That stressed me out so much 😭

You made him promise to wake you up every time before he leaves, you spend a few minutes cuddling or have a quick coffee together before he leaves. You've seen way too many wives crying over their husbands, hating themself for "I didn't tell him I love you this morning." and you didn't want to risk anything.

Noo stooooooppp 😭😭😭😭 that’s so saddd 😭

"Grab an oxygen mask and follow lieutenant Smith, you're needed inside."

"Sir I'm not trained for going inside of the building." you started to feel panic, searching the crowd for your captain, but he must've been fighting the fire alongside his men.

NOOOOO WTF????? 😡😡😡😡😡 surely that’s not following protocol, she’s not fucking trained, he’s risking her life??????? What kind of a captain is he???? 🤬

Once he kicked the door open everything happened so fast. You saw two little boys in the corner of the room, holding hands and hugging each other. Their eyes were full of fear and hope at the same time. Before you had a chance to reach out your hands the roof collapsed and you saw black.

Nooooooooo 😭😭😭😭

Noah's heart stopped for a second. What did he mean inside? There's no way he would send you inside of a building that's on fire.

Our boy’s about to go ballistic

"I don't know Sebastian, calm down. Don't make a scene." your captain told him. He understood he was worried, but for the sake of both of your jobs he tried to calm him down.

"Don't make a scene? Are you fucking kidding me?" he yelled again, louder this time.

I’m sorry, I know he’s scared and pissed but like… why am I even more attracted to him when he goes all protective and angry? 😭

He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you, not right now when he finally started to feel happy.

🥺🥺🥺🥺

"Where's the incident commander?" "Noah don't be stupid." Nick knew Noah well, he knew he was about to beat the shit out of that guy.

As he should 🫢

"I'm not letting this go, I'll file a complaint against you." and with that Noah turned around and stormed away.

👏 👏👏👏

"Are you mad?" he asked, you already told him many times that you were not mad, but it seems like he has a hard time believing you.

"Why would I be mad at my boyfriend for standing up for me?" when you said it like that he finally cracked a smile and looked less worried.

I imagine him being like “🥺👉🏻👈🏻 are you mad?”

Ughhhhh I love them so muuuuchh 😭😭😭

It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to see them love each other and care about each other 🥺🥺

THE FIRE WITHIN

chapter 3 (series masterlist)

Pairing: firefighter Noah x female reader

reader has a name (Theresa Monroe, but the story is written in 'your' POV)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / sexual content (oral both receiving, unprotected sex) / flashbacks of tragic call / reader geting hurt on call / verbal harassment / nightmares / sex at work / I think that's it, let me know if there's anything else!

Words: 10,8k

Author's note: Treat this one nicely please, I feel like it's my baby, one of my favorite things I've written si far❤️‍🩹 let me know your opinion, I love getting feedback from you!

Be aware you're reading this at your own decision, it contains sensitive topics, so please think twice before reading as I wouldn't want to cause anyone any discomfort while reading my work!

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Noah’s hands explored your body, gripping and squeezing you once in a while. You liked the feeling of his hands on you. Your hands were in his hair and you could swear you heard him moan a few times when you tugged at it.

He slowly put his hands under your t-shirt, teasing your skin and testing if you’ll let him. He moved them up your sides until he reached your breasts and took them both in his hands. You disconnected your lips and took a deep breath, not expecting this kind of touch. In your office. With an unlocked door. Oh god.

“Wait, Noah. We can’t.” you whispered into his open mouth.

“Why not?” he put on his best pout.

“We are in my office, anyone could walk in any minute.” you sat straight on his lap and removed his hands from under your t-shirt, “Plus, you’re dirty.” you pointed to his face and laughed.

“Okay you’re right.” you knew were.

He stole one more kiss before you stood up and put your clothes back in place. Noah collected his jacket and went for the door. “By the way, you’re dirty too.” he winked at you and left your office.

You quickly moved to take your phone from your bag and opened your front camera. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw the slightest amount of grey on your face. Your fingers wiped it off and then you swiped them over your lips. You could still feel the butterflies in your stomach. Noah is going to be trouble.

—

“My mom is coming to town for lunch, do you wanna come?”

You read Noah’s text as you sat down behind your desk at station 19.

“Why would I come to have lunch with your mom?”

“Because I want to introduce her to her future daughter in law.”

“Smooth Noah, real smooth.”

You laughed at his flirtatious message. You got used to it at this point. Since the day he came to your office and you both let yourself go you couldn’t stop texting each other. You have not been back to station 25 since that, so you were glad he couldn’t see your smiles and red cheeks from his obvious flirting.

“I’m serious.”

“Of course you are. And I’m working.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna tell her about you then.”

You locked your phone and put it in the bottom drawer, because otherwise you’d spent the next 8 hours texting with the handsome firefighter instead of doing your job.

—

“Hi mom.” Noah greeted his mom with a smile on his face and kissed her cheek.

“Hi Noah. Dad is sorry he couldn’t come today, work.” she apologized on behalf of his father.

“It’s okay.” he shrugged his shoulders. “How are you?”

“Good. Work has been busy lately but at least I’m not bored. Your dad is still a pain in the ass and we are thinking about getting a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yeah. I miss you, so I thought of getting a dog.” she said and looked over the menu.

“Did you just compare me to a dog?” he laughed but mimicked her actions and let his eyes read over the menu.

“You know what I mean! It’s either a dog or you could give me grandchildren.” she winked at him over the paper in front of her face.

“Sure mom, dog sounds great.” he chuckled to himself. He knew what messages he sent you earlier, but he also knew his mom and what would happen if he told her about you. She wouldn’t leave the town until Noah would take her to your place and introduce you. Which was not happening yet, he still has to charm you until he introduces you to his parents.

“How is your work? Everything okay?” his mom asked him when they finished their meals.

“Yeah, the usual.” Noah lied. He didn’t tell her about that call and his mental state since that day. She was a good mom and she would be worried. She knew his job was dangerous, but he always told her about medical calls or small fires so she wouldn’t be scared.

“Will you come visit us any time soon? You know, stay for the weekend. Dad could use your help in the garden.” and his first thought was about you coming with him. It scared him how much he wanted you, but he could picture you and your mom getting along. He’s crazy, he doesn’t even know you that well.

“I promise I’ll visit you and dad soon okay?”

—

You had plenty of time to think about you and Noah over the next few days and you came up with some rules. It was Tuesday today, so your plan was to present them to him and leave no room for discussion.

You were in the middle of a call with your boss when the door to your office flew open and you saw Noah.

You put your finger on your lips to make sure he stays silent. He slowly closed the door behind him and with a few long steps he was behind your chair.

You felt him tower over you and his hands by your sides.

“Yes, I had a call with John and he agreed.” you continued talking with your boss.

You felt Noah’s hand move your hair on the side where you didn’t hold your phone to your ear and soon his hand was replaced with his lips.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you got lost in the feeling of Noah’s lips on your neck and didn’t hear a word the person on the other side of the line told you.

You felt Noah’s lips turn into a smirk. He expected you to push him away, but you didn’t. You enjoyed it.

“I’ll make sure to send you the papers by the end of your week. Thank you. Bye.” you quickly finished your call and threw your phone on the table.

“Are you crazy?” you turned around in your chair to face Noah who was smiling back at you.

“You liked it.” he knew you did.

He leaned down and put his hands on the handles of your chair. Your faces were close and you could smell his cologne.

“Listen Noah, I thought about this,” you pointed your finger at him and then back at you, “and maybe we should make some rules for this to work.”

“What rules?”

“Let’s not rush things. This is nice, I like it. I like spending time with you when I’m here, but we don’t really know each other yet. Let’s take things slowly, please.” you looked up at him.

“If you’re talking about what I texted you about my mom the other day, that was just a joke.” he panicked, thinking he scared you off with a stupid joke.

“No it’s not because of those texts.” you laughed at his panicked face. “I mean in general.”

“Okay. But can I still kiss you?” he was teasing you at this point.

“Noah!” you playfully smacked his arm.

“No, I agree. Let’s not rush anything.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I have to go. Will you be there for the Open day on Friday?”

“Yeah, but I also have to be at 19. I think I’ll come here around lunch time.”

“Great. Bye.”

“Safe shift!” you called after him but doubted he heard you.

Throughout the rest of your day you got a few messages from Noah, but it seemed like a busy day for station 25. They had many calls and even when you left at 5PM they were out.

—

The next day you saw the final version of a schedule for the Open day. Open day is held once a year at a few stations. The public can come and see the station, trucks and other fire equipment. Firefighters have various activities ready for the kids that are usually the most excited to come and see their work.

You’ll be spending your morning at station 19 where they asked you to speak about your job for the public. You’ve never done that so you were nervous about all the attention you’re going to get. You changed your speech too many times that you decided to write down just simple points and talk from your heart.

After you’re done you’re going to station 25 where you don’t have exactly a slot for speech, but you want to be there to answer questions and talk with people that are interested in your job. And maybe because you really want to see Noah too.

The crew of station 25 made their own schedule which was pretty obvious when you read each time stamp and the activity. They wanted to have fun and hid it behind “There will be kids!”

10:00 - start

11:00 - introduction and short introduction of the fire department’s work

11:30 - fire safety talk

12:00 - break

12:30 - station tour

13:30 - intervention and equipment demonstration

14:30 - fire truck ride along

15:00 - Q&A with the crew

Noah’s name was written beside the station tour and fire truck ride along. Of course he chose the fun stuff.

“When are you coming to the station on Friday?”

Speaking of the devil… the devil sent you a message.

“I think I’ll be there in time for your tour.”

“So you’ve seen the schedule. What do you think?”

“That I’m very interested in your guide skills.”

“You’re gonna love it.”

Of course you will. He’s like fish in the pond when it comes to fire stuff and you’re sure his tour will be educational and fun.

—

“Overall the goal of our Crisis intervention team is to help not just fire fighters, but also to those affected by the fires and to everyone who lost their property or their closed ones on a call. It's a very important part of the fire department and I’m glad that our team is getting bigger and bigger.” you closed your notes as you were saying the last few words to the crowd. “But we’re still understaffed. If any of you are interested in being part of the Crisis intervention team don’t be afraid to reach out. Thank you for your attention everyone.”

After you finished speaking there was an applause for you. The whole speech thing went much better than you thought and now you were ready to enjoy the rest of the day with others.

“Are you leaving already?” an older lieutenant approached you as you were packing your things.

“Yeah, I promised I’d stop by at 25 too.”

“Shame, there will be fireworks later, they won’t have that.” he winked at you and gave you a fatherly hug before saying his goodbye to you.

When you were in your car you checked your phone to see it was 12:05 and you noticed a new message from Noah.

“I’ll be sad if you won’t make it in time:(“

“I’ll be there in 20.” you replied and started the car.

There seemed to be more kids than adults at 25. They were running around the trucks, staring at them with their wide eyes.

“Okay minions, get ready, the tour starts in 5 minutes!” you heard Noah’s voice and after a few more steps you saw him standing next to the ladder.

“Minions?” you asked him with a laugh.

“They won’t stop running around and they’re small, like minions.” he shrugged his shoulders. You noticed a balloon in the shape of a firetruck around him and your eyes followed the string only to find out that Noah had it tied around his belt. “Oh that’s just an accessory to keep their attention.” he said when he saw you looking at it. Right, obviously.

“You’re full of surprises lieutenant.” you said with an amused smile. He just winked at you and started walking in the direction of very excited kids.

“Before we start - don’t touch anything and don’t push any buttons, understood?” they all nodded their heads at him. Nick joined Noah and they started walking in the direction of administrational wing of the station.

You were very tempted to follow them too, but you’d be the only one above the age of 8. You decided to wait down with everyone else and join them when they go see the fun stuff.

Half an hour later Noah slid down the big pole and you heard all of the tiny voices go “Woow!” from the hole that connected the main floor with the first floor. Second later they all come running down to meet Noah by the pole. Nick had one boy sit on his shoulders and Noah’s balloon was tied around a little girl's ponytail.

“That was so cool!”

“You were so quick!”

“You must be so strong!”

“Can I try it?”

The kids were talking at once, jumping around from excitement. That’s when you noticed one of the kids, a brown haired boy in jeans and long sleeved t-shirt, standing behind all of the kids. He didn’t jump around like everyone else and didn’t ask any questions.

“Hi, I’m Tess. Can I join you for the rest of the tour?” you stood next to the little boy and asked him. He just nodded his head and gave you a small smile.

You followed Noah and Nick around like if you were at the station for the first time. They were telling jokes, making fun of each other and keeping the kids entertained. But your attention was on the boy beside you. He didn’t laugh much and looked very sad. His hands kept playing with the hem of his t-shirt so you offered to hold his hand and he accepted.

“Do you like it here?” you asked him when Noah and Nick told the group about the trucks.

“Yes.” his voice was low and he kept avoiding your gaze.

“What did you like the most?”

“The pole.” he finally sounded more excited. You learned that his name is Tom.

“It’s really cool, isn’t it? Do you want to be a firefighter when you grow up?”

“I don’t know yet.” he shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s okay, you have plenty of time.” you squeezed his hand.

“Now you can all see the inside of the truck, but remember what I said - don’t touch anything, okay?” Noah said and made a serious face. Bad for him the kids only laughed at him and sprinted inside the car.

“Do you want to go inside Tom?” you crouched down to his level and he just nodded his head no. He was shy, not like the other kids.

“Hey buddy, do you need help getting in?” Noah crouched down next to you and reached his hand out towards Tom. He looked at you and you gave him an encouraging smile. It took a while before he put his much smaller hand in Noah’s.

You continued to watch the two of them from afar. Noah made sure that Tom tried all of the different seats and patiently answered the few questions Tom asked him.

And your heart was melting at that sight. Seeing Noah in his uniform with a small kid sitting in his lap was something you didn’t expect to see today.

Tom along with the other kids ran off to get some snacks and you had a minute to talk with Noah alone.

“He reminds me of myself.” he said.

“I wouldn't have guessed you as the shy kid.”

“I was. I outgrew it, obviously, but I was like him.” the idea of little Noah made you pout and give him sad eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cry.”

“I’m just very emotional and I pictured you playing with your toys all alone. Yeah I might start crying now.”

Noah laughed at your reaction and your glassy eyes. “Let’s have a snack, snacks always make me feel better.” he dragged you to the food area where you joined his group of minions.

—

For the rest of the day you hang out with Nick and Noah, watching the others do the demonstrations and talk more about fire safety.

The truck ride along was probably the kids favorite thing. You were happy to see Tom with a big smile when the truck stopped in front of the station. He was sitting right next to Noah and they both waved at you with matching smiles.

By the time the Q&A part was coming to an end some of the kids were falling asleep, the energy drained from their small bodies.

Some of them didn’t want to leave and had to be dragged away by their parents.

After everyone left and the doors were rolled back down you looked around and saw a bunch of tired firefighters.

“Looks like the minions drained all of your energy.” you joked and helped Noah with cleaning up.

“They were little devils.” he laughed.

“But they enjoyed it.”

After the station was cleaned everyone went to do their own thing, some of the guys hit the gym and others went to take a much needed nap.

And Noah sneaked away to your office.

You sat in his lap on your couch and your hands were around his neck.

“Are you gonna join us at the bar tomorrow?” his nose gently traced your jaw, planting a kiss here and there.

“I already have plans, sorry.”

“Plans?” he pulled away and looked suspiciously at you.

“Plans.” you confirmed.

“With who?”

“Do you think I don’t have any other friends than guys from work?” you faked being offended.

“Plans. With. Who?” he made dramatic pauses between each word.

“With my friend. Are you jealous?”

“That you’re gonna spend Saturday night with her and not me? Hell yeah.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re going for drinks at Joe’s bar.” you whispered and leaned down to meet his lips for a kiss. You felt the corners of his mouth lift up when he realized that at least he can stare at you from a distance.

You rested your head on his chest and he let out a long yawn.

“You should go take a nap.” you said.

“Can I take one here?”

“I’m leaving in 15 minutes Noah.” you were met with puppy eyes and a sad face. “See you tomorrow.” you kissed his pout away before he left your office.

—

“So you’re telling me that group of sexy firefighters will be there?” your friend asked you with shock.

“Mhm.” you agreed and filled her glass with wine. She came to your place for pre drinks.

“And why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would have worn something different!” she sighed and looked at herself in the mirror.

“You look fine! It’s a bar, not a fancy club.” you laughed when she tried to push her boobs more in the view. You checked yourself in the mirror too.

This time you chose to wear blue loose jeans and a tight tank top with leather jacket over it. You curled your hair this time and did your go to makeup.

“So that also means I’ll get to see Mr. Hotshot tonight?”

“Yes, Noah will be there.” you sipped on your wine and thought about the message Noah sent you earlier. “Can’t wait to see you tonight, pretty girl.”

“You wanna fuck him so bad.” your friend turned around to face you, because she just caught you smiling for yourself after mentioning his name.

“Shut up!” you threw a tissue box at her to stop her from talking more.

You took a cab to the bar and just like the last time when you entered, the smell of beer and sweat hit you. You scanned the area and saw the guys already there. Noah sat with his back to the door so he didn’t notice you yet.

You two found a table with your name written on a piece of paper and sat down.

“Will you be mad if I sleep with one of them?” you had to laugh at her face when she saw the group of big men sitting around one big table. “Not hotshot of course.”

“Go for it I guess.” your answer seemed to satisfy her and she kept her eyes fixed on them.

After the bartender brought you two glasses of wine you felt someone watching you. You looked around and found Noah’s eyes looking at you. You smiled at him and he smiled back at you.

“Come hang out with us.” your phone buzzed with a new message from him.

“It’s a girls night.”

“Your friend is stripping Jolly with her eyes.”

You laughed at his message, but it was true. She chose her prize after five minutes after you two sat down.

“Maybe later.”

And with that you placed your phone down on the table, sign for Noah that the conversation is over for now.

“So is he single?”

“Can you take your eyes off of him for a few minutes and give your attention to me?” she rolled her eyes and unwillingly took her eyes off of Jolly.

“He’s just very handsome. And tall. And muscular.”

“He also looks like your ex.”

“Not fair.” she crossed her arms and made an angry face at you.

After a while she finally stopped talking about Jolly and updated you on her life. She was trying to find a new specialty, because couples therapy was boring, that’s what she said. She told you about the new apartment she’s thinking about moving into and about her family drama.

It was nice hanging out with her. You haven’t seen each other in a while so you had a lot to catch up on. You appreciated the female energy after spending time at work mainly with men.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” she excused herself and left you by yourself.

You unlocked your phone and sent a text to your mom who sent you pictures of her new garden plants. You must have gotten lost in your thoughts because you didn’t expect your friend to be back that quick. You heard someone sit down opposite to you so you put your phone away.

“That was qu-” you didn’t finish your sentence because that was in fact not your friend sitting on the other side of the table.

“Hi kitten. What can I get you?” a man in late 50s with a long beard and bald head was now facing you.

“I’m here with a friend actually.” you gave him a polite smile and hoped he’d take the hint and leave.

“You mean that girl?” you turned your head in the direction he was pointing to and saw your friend sitting next to Jolly. Amazing.

“She’ll come back soon.”

“I can’t let you sit here by yourself, kitten.” you turned your head back to where she was, too occupied with listening to whatever Jolly was saying. You looked where Noah was sitting, where he should be sitting. But you found an empty chair.

“So maybe after I buy you a drink we can leave on my bike together?” you looked back at the man and made a disgusted face.

Meanwhile your friend was lost in Jolly’s eyes and Noah was playing darts with others. When he glanced back to their table he saw your friend sitting there and looked for you. When he didn’t see you there he didn’t think much of it, you were probably using the bathroom or getting yourself another drink.

“Yes!” he cheered when the machine played that silly tone and ‘VICTORY’ was written on the top.

“I’m never playing with you again.” Nick just shook his head and started walking in the direction of the bar to order round for everyone, because he lost.

When Noah returned to the table you still weren’t there.

“Hi, did Tessa already left?” he asked your friend.

“Oh shit, Tessa!” she panicked and looked over to the table where she was sitting with you. When she started talking with Jolly she thought you’ll see her and come over, but then she completely forgot about you.

Both her and Noah saw you still sitting at the table, but not alone. There was an older man with you. Noah didn’t know how to feel, he wanted to go there and interrupt you, but what if you liked the man and he would just make a fool of himself.

“I'm so stupid, god I need to go there and save her. She’s gonna kill me.” your friend stood up, but Noah was quick and took her forearm and told her to stay there.

“Is there a problem?” Noah approached the table and looked at you.

But before you could speak up the man was quicker “No, we're just talking.”

“Are you?” Noah continued to talk to you. He saw the fear in your eyes and your head shaking ‘no’ just confirmed what he thought.

“So, we’re gonna leave now. If you want to get her a drink so badly I’m sure you won’t mind paying for their tab.” Noah took your hand in his and helped you stand up. He gave that man an ironic smile and led you away.

“Are you okay?” he asked you.

“I’m gonna kill her.” you quickened your pace, but his grip on your hand stopped you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked you again and looked at your face. He wanted to hug you, kiss your forehead and tell you he won’t let anyone close to you again so badly, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Yes. Thank you.” you squeezed his hand, the only thing you could do in front of everyone. “But I’m still gonna kill her.”

After your friend apologized like a hundred times and bought you two rounds of shots you swore you would forgive her. But your girl's night was gone when you saw her and Jolly.

“Do you think they’re gonna sleep together?” you asked Noah after you sat down next to him.

“Yep. And it’s either gonna be in the bathroom stall or in his car.”

“What?” you turned to face him with a shocked face.

“He doesn’t take girls home, Jolly is not a man of relationship.” he laughed at your reaction.

You continued watching those two, making jokes about what they could be talking about until they started making out.

“Gross.” you turned your back at them and faced Noah. You looked closely at him, inspecting every part of his face.

“You look nice today.” you complimented him. He was wearing black jeans with black t-shirt and grey overshirt.

“You look beautiful today.” he returned your compliment back and enjoyed watching you blush. His eyes left your face when something behind you caught his attention, “There we go.”

He motioned for you to look too. You saw Jolly and your friend walking in the direction of the bathroom, she was giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Oh god.” you just shook your head.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Noah asked.

“I guess so.” you shrugged your shoulders and looked around the table. Half of the guys already left too and your friend for sure won’t be leaving with you tonight.

“Let’s go.” Noah led you out of the bar, his strong grip on your hand making sure he doesn’t lose you.

When you were outside Noah led you around the corner and before you could ask him where you were going his lips were on yours.

Your hand immediately went to his hair, playing with his soft locks.

“Let me take you to my place.” the words slipped out of Noah’s mouth between kisses.

“Noah.” he heard the uncertainty in your voice and dropped to his knees. Your eyes shot open, “What are you doing?”

“Begging.” he chuckled back at you.

“Get up.”

“No.”

“Noah.”

“Tess.”

You stayed silent and looked down at him. The street lights brought out his facial features and his almond eyes kept looking up at you. You never knew that you’d find a man at your mercy hot.

You leaned down and grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him a few times before you said “Okay.”

He only smiled from the happiness and reached into his back pocket to call a cab for you both.

—

Noah unlocked his door without breaking the heavy making out and once you were inside of his apartment he closed the door and turned you around so your back was against the wooden material.

It was like after you said yes to him, something in Noah woke up and he couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

His hands were everywhere, grabbing your neck, tugging at your hair or squeezing your ass.

Once you got out of the cab and realized where you were going you decided that you’re not going to hold back too.

You slid your hands down his solid chest until you touched the cold material of his belt. Without needing his help you managed to open in and after one messy kiss you pulled away and slid down against the door.

His jeans were down to his ankles and his underwear followed just seconds after. His dick was hard, swollen and already leaking a precum.

You looked up at him and when he saw you from this angle he had to hold himself from not cuming just from looking at you.

Your hands grazed the skin of his thighs and your lips kissed the soft skin of his tummy. You wanted to tease him longer, but your need to touch him was stronger. Your fingers grabbed his hard member and stroked him a few times. That simple movement had Noah going crazy. He imagined how your hand and mouth would feel around him, but the real thing was so much better. He leaned his forehead against the door and kept looking down at you.

When you took him in your mouth you felt his thigh muscles twitch under your hand. You kept switching between sucking and licking long stripes around his throbbing cock. His eyes were closed as he was enjoying the wet warm feeling your mouth provided.

“So good, you’re doing so good Tess.” he muttered through closed teeth.

His hands gripped your hair, gently, as he guided you in the pace he liked. The second you took him deep enough and his tip touched the back of your throat, he knew he had to stop you before he exploded right there in your mouth.

His strong arms reached down and pulled you up. He didn’t give you even a second to react and grabbed your chin to open your mouth so he could slide his tongue inside. When you didn’t protest his hands slid under your ass and he lifted you up in his arms.

“Wait, wouldn’t like to fall with you.” he chuckled as he pulled away from your face to navigate his way through his own apartment.

You took that as a chance to cherish the skin of his neck. You used your tongue and teeth, searching the most sensitive spot to suck on.

You heard him take a sharp breath and mumble something like “Fucking tease.” when you kissed the skin between his jaw and ear. Found it. You made sure to apply the right amount of pressure to get a deep moan out of him. Before you could do more damage to his neck he laid you down on his bed. He stood still by the edge of it and caressed the skin of your knees.

You dragged your feet from his thigh to under his t-shirt. While doing that your eyes never left his.

“Didn’t know you’re such a tease.” he stopped you from moving your feet higher and pulled it out from under his t-shirt. He brought it to his lips and gave you a few kisses before he said “But two can play this game baby.” with a smirk.

He pulled off his t-shirt and you saw his tattooed body for the first time. As he hovered above you you let your eyes shamelessly linger over his chest.

He took his sweet time taking your clothes off, leaving teasing touches everywhere.

He left open mouth kisses on your neck, your moans and whimpers were music to his ears.

He sucked on the soft skin of your breasts and left wet circles around your nipples before he captured one of them in his mouth. He teased it with his tongue, sucking hard but gentle at the same time.

He felt your hips move under him and your hands trying to push him lower on your body, but he remained strong and kept giving his attention to your nipples.

“Noahh.” you moaned his name, but he heard the unspoken “please” in your voice.

“Yeah?” he lifted his head from your chest, smirking at you. Bastard.

“Please.”

“Please what baby?” Please me, you wanted to say but wasn’t bold enough.

“Go lower.” you whispered and he laughed at your sudden shyness.

“Come on, don't tell me you’re shy. Say it.”

“No.”

“Say that you want me to eat your pussy.”

“Noah!” you smacked his chest. “You’re making fun of me, that’s not fair.” you knew he wasn’t really making fun of you.

“I’m gonna make you say it.” he whispered and leaned down to kiss you. Meanwhile his left hand made its way between your legs. He teased the skin of your inner thighs, dragging his fingers painfully slowly, but avoided your core.

His lips left yours and he started kissing you down your neck, between your breasts and followed lower and lower. He was facing your wet pussy and had to hold himself from diving straight in.

He started kissing your lower tummy, your thighs, hip bones and his hands were laying over your waist to keep you from moving your hips.

“Noah please.” you moaned again, wanting to feel his tongue on you.

“Say it.” he repeated again. You didn’t fight back this time, instead you collected all of your courage to let those dirty words out of your angel mouth.

“Eat me out Noah.” it was barely a whisper, but it was all Noah needed to dive in without giving you any warning.

He collected all of your juices with his tongue, feeling pleasure from finally tasting you. Your hands gripped the white sheets that were under you and your mouth was left open. It felt so good.

You dared to look at him between your thighs, almost cuming from the view. His hair was a mess and his eyes closed as he was enjoying it as much as you did.

His tongue worked in skilled motions, licking you from your entrance all the way to your clit where he sucked on it before toying with it with his tongue. You enjoy every lick with closed eyes. He was changing different paces, but when he felt your legs starting to shake around his shoulders he knew you were close and kept the steady rhythm of sucking your clit.

When you came on his tongue, you squeezed him with your legs and your back arched from the mattress.

“Fuck Noah!” you couldn’t help but almost screamed his name, because he made you feel that good.

He kept licking your sensitive pussy even when you tried to push him away.

“Noah.” it was something between a moan and a plea.

“You can give me one more. Come on, pretty girl, I know you can.”

And maybe it was his words of encouragement or the gentle flicks of his tongue that got you back into the bliss that Noah’s mouth on you was.

This time he used his fingers, first to slide them over your center to get them covered in your wetness before he slowly pushed one of them into you.

You couldn’t form any words, your brain fogged with the pleasure he was giving you. He started moving his finger in and out and used his tongue on your clit at the same time.

When he felt your walls squeeze his single finger he decided to add another one and you were sure you saw heaven.

The slow movements of his fingers combined with his wet tongue made you see stars. Almost literally, because the approaching orgasm got you squeezing your eyes so hard you were sure you saw little sparks behind your eyelids.

It took one adjustment of Noah’s fingers, moving them in and out in a different angle and your second orgasm took over you. Noah kept finger fucking you through the aftershocks and kissed the skin on your tummy. When he was sure he got you through the full ride, he kissed his way back to your face.

“Hey.” he said and stroked his fingers over your cheek.

“Hi.” you whispered and pulled him down by his chin.

His saliva was mixed with your juices, making you groan against his lips when you tasted his mouth.

You felt his dick twitch against your tummy and wanted more. You stroked him few times before he said “Fuck, I don’t have any condoms.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I don’t bring girls over.” you could see a genuine panic on his face. “Do you have one?”

“No, I don’t usually let guys take me to their place.”

Great, at least you both knew that neither of you were fucking new people every week.

“Are you on the pill?” he asked, his voice full of hope.

“No.”

“Fuck.” he groaned and his head fell on your shoulder.

You knew what you’re going to say was very very risky, but you were sure you both wanted it to happen so badly.

“Promise you’ll pull out.”

“What?” his head shot up from your shoulder. “Are you serious?” his face was a mixture of happiness and confusion, because he didn’t believe you’re really going to let him do it.

“Just promise you won’t cum inside.”

“I swear I won’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” you both kept looking at each other for a moment, before you pulled him down for a messy and sloppy kiss.

You felt Noah’s precum on your skin and reached out to line him at your entrance. Before he slid in he looked at you just to make sure you’re okay with it.

When you said “Fuck me Noah.” he fully slid inside you, your wet and warm pussy swallowing him fully.

“Fuck Tessa, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned into your ear and as a reaction your walls squeezed around him.

“You’re so tight.” he didn’t move yet, he enjoyed the feeling of you wrapped around him.

You were the first one to move your hips and since then it was a mess. Noah’s thrusts were messy and his breathing uneven.

His bedroom was filled with moans and the sounds of skin on skin. You felt every single one of his movements and it felt too good.

“I’m not gonna last long like this.” his words were silenced by your skin, but you knew you were close too.

“Then cum Noah.” you whispered in his ear and before he pulled out you slid your hand between your still connected bodies to rub circles on your clit.

Noah sat back on his knees, stroking his own dick, but his eyes were on you. You kept holding eye contact while you were both getting yourself off.

The sounds that Noah made when you felt the warm liquid on your body were ethereal. He lost control of his eyes and they shut closed, his head fell backward and his abs were twitching.

The warm feeling of his orgasm was the last thing you needed to push you over the edge and you enjoyed the third orgasm of the night.

Noah collapsed next to you and said “Give me a minute, I’ll clean you up.”

You just hummed in response and when you saw him lying on his back with his mouth open, you couldn’t help yourself and put your fingers in his mouth. The ones that were rubbing your clit just a minute ago.

He groaned when he tasted you again, cleaning all of your digits with his tongue.

“You’re so fucking hot. I’m never letting you go.” he kissed you on the lips before he got up and went for a towel.

—

Once you were both cleaned up, showered and after a late night snack, you laid back in Noah’s bed.

He gave you his underwear and t-shirt. The clothes smelled like him, just like the sheets of his bedding.

“I was serious.” he pulled you into his side after he found a comfortable position for himself.

“What do you mean?” you rested your hands on his chest and put your head on them, giving yourself better access to look at him.

“About not letting you go.” his hand slid in your hair and you closed your eyes at the comfort of his fingers sliding along your scalp. “I want to date you officially. I’m gonna tell the guys and the captain. If you want to, of course.”

You opened your eyes and caught him staring at you. You couldn’t see properly under the dim lights, but you could swear you saw pink on his cheeks.

“I’d like to date you officially too lieutenant.” you saw his lips turn into the biggest smile, your own following right after.

You crawled up his body and straddled his lap. “It’s official then, you’re my girlfriend.” he whispered against your lips.

“And you’re my boyfriend.” you felt like a teenager who just got asked by her crush to be his girlfriend, but you liked it. You felt like he was worth the chance to risk the mix between work and love.

“But don’t call me lieutenant again or we’re gonna have to deal with something else.” so that’s how you found out that he likes to be called lieutenant in bed.

“Yeah about that, can we buy an after pill tomorrow? Just to be sure.” you turned your voice to a serious tone.

—

It took you a while to fall asleep, the excitement making it harder. Noah didn’t let go of you, so you fell asleep cuddled together.

You felt safe in his arms. His breath tickled at the back of your neck in steady breaths. Until they were not steady at all.

You woke up before him from the tightening grip on your body. His breaths were quick and uneven, his body was shaking and he was mumbling something you couldn’t understand.

His nightmares, you remembered.

You tried to wake him up, shaking his body gently and calling out his name, but nothing happened.

He was still tossing around, his brows furrowed and his hair became wet from the sweat.

“Noah please, wake up.” you begged him, but you were sure he couldn’t hear you.

You didn’t know what to do, how to help him.

You raised your voice, scared that the neighbours might hear you, but you had to.

You took his arms and tried to stop him from moving around and kept repeating his name over and over, each time louder than before.

Finally, his eyes shot open and he took a deep breath in. He sat up and looked around the room.

“You’re okay.” you calmed your voice, not sure if touching him immediately was the right thing to do.

His eyes finally softened when he realized he’s in his bed and with you. His head hung low and his chest was still going up and down. He wasn’t ashamed that you witnessed it, but he was scared it might scare you off.

“Can I touch you?” you asked and he just nodded his head.

You slowly laid him down on your chest and put the covers over both of you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked and caressed his head.

“No.” firm and straight answer.

“Okay.” you thought before saying the next sentence, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I have to say it. Not as the department’s therapist, but as someone who you let this close. You need to talk about it Noah. I can give you John’s number, because I’m sure you know that from now on I can’t handle your therapy. If you’re not gonna do it for yourself, do it for me, please.”

Silence took over the room and Noah thought about your words. He knew you were right, he just didn’t want to go back to that call. Not voluntarily.

“Okay.” he whispered into the dark, but it was enough for you, for now.

He didn’t expect to end your first night together like this, but he was exhausted from the terrible nightmare that he let you hold him until he fell asleep again.

—

“I just told the guys.” your phone buzzed with a new message from Noah.

“And how did it go?”

“As expected, they don’t really give a fuck.”

“On my way to tell the captain now.”

You bit your lip after reading that. You just got an email that said you are officially permanent at station 25. You were really hoping to get stationed at a different station so it would be easier for you and Noah.

You were anxiously looking at your phone, waiting for Noah’s next message. You were sure that the captain of 25 knew the news too and you really wanted to tell Noah yourself. Too late for that.

Instead of another message your phone lit up with an incoming call from Noah.

“Hi.” you said quietly after picking the phone.

“When did you plan on telling me?”

“Noah I got the email 30 minutes ago, I wanted to tell you when I see you.”

“So you let me go and tell the captain that we’re dating when you knew he knew and I didn’t?”

“I’m sorry I panicked.” there was a silence from Noah’s side. “I’m really sorry.”

“Well you’re lucky the captain said it’s not a problem if it doesn’t affect our work and that I’m happy I’ll be seeing you more often.”

“I’m pretty happy about that too.”

“So when are you starting?”

“On Monday.”

—

Monday came quicker than you thought. You spent the whole weekend at Noah’s place and thanks to his shift being on Monday too, he gave you a ride to work.

“I could get used to this.” you said when he leaned over the center console to give you a kiss before you left the car.

You parted your ways and you went straight for your new office. Now that it was permanently yours you thought about doing some changes.

Before you could think about what colored frames you’re going to buy there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” you yelled.

“Hi.” Nick came in and gave you one of his smiles.

“Hey. Do you need anything?”

“No, I just came here to give you a warm welcome. We’re lucky to have you.” he pulled you in a hug and you were suddenly really happy that you got assigned to station 25.

“Thank you.”

“So, you and Noah?” he pulled away and wiggled his eyebrows at you.

They were long time friends and even though he liked you, he wanted to be sure that you’re not going to break Noah’s heart and make work hell for both of you.

—

The rest of the week went smoothly, there were only two calls with B shift that you had to be part of. Otherwise your first week as a member of the station 25 crew went great.

You spent some of the nights at Noah’s place, others at your place by yourself. You were in the honeymoon stage so you wanted to be together 24/7, but also agreed that it’s only healthy to spend some time apart.

You and Noah sneaked around the station like teenage kids, thinking that no one could see you, but they all did.

“Noah, we're gonna get caught.” you told him as he yanked you by your hand to the closest storage of extra fire equipment.

“Not if you’re gonna be quiet.” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you.

His lips started to feel like home and comfort, especially after you haven’t spent a few days together. You wanted nothing more than to take him home and hide under the covers. But his 24 hour shift only started.

“I miss you.” his lips were now kissing under your ear, sending shivers down your body when he whispered those sweet words to you.

“I miss you too.” you closed your eyes and gave him more space while leaning your head back. He was very quick to learn all of your sensitive spots.

“Tomorrow at my place?”

“Mhm.” you agreed just with a nod and brought his lips to yours.

You let your hands wander on his body, solid and soft at the same time. You took his t-shirt off to have a better access to his soft skin.

His hands went for your belt, he was determined to make the most out of the moment of privacy you had.

You let him pull them down along with your panties and reached out to lock the door.

He dropped to his knees and lifted your leg over his bare shoulder. He didn’t waste time with kisses and bites to your soft skin like he always does, he’s going to take his sweet time with you tomorrow.

“Oh Noah.” you had to put your own hand on your mouth to silence your moans. His tongue was on your clit and his arms were wrapped around legs to steady you.

Before your hand could tug at his hair, sirens started blaring through the station.

“For fucks sake.” he mumbled, still between your thigs. He kissed your clit for the last time before he pulled his t-shirt back on and before he was out of the door he said “Gonna finish this later.”

You managed to wipe his chin that was covered in you and then the door closed behind him. You pulled your clothes back on and when you were sure everyone was gone you opened the storage door and ran back to your office.

—

You were part of 25 for 3 weeks now and it was probably the best part of your career so far. You have never been part of any station, it was always the main administration building with no on call firefighters.

You enjoyed the new atmosphere, the adrenalin and the laughs that came with working here daily.

Noah has been amazing and sometimes you thought the reality was too good to be true. You two were going on dates or spent your time cuddled at home, but everything seemed to be fun when Noah was with you.

You had your morning ritual for days when Noah left earlier than you for work or on weekends when you were not working. Dating a firefighter comes with lots of stress, especially if you’re also part of the department. You know what can happen and that no tomorrow is promised when he’s at work.

He hated it when you started doing it, but when you told him your reasons, he let you. You made him promise to wake you up every time before he leaves, you spend a few minutes cuddling or have a quick coffee together before he leaves. You’ve seen way too many wives crying over their husbands, hating themself for “I didn’t tell him I love you this morning.” and you didn’t want to risk anything.

Neither of you have said I love you yet, but you were sure for some time now that you do love him. You were just building up the courage to tell him.

—

You were in the middle of a conference call when the station’s alarms started blaring through the building.

“Structure fire at orphanage at Guardian road. Children and staff inside. Crisis Intervention Team requested. Respond immediately. Structure fire at orphanage at Guardian road. Children and staff inside. Crisis Intervention Team requested. Respond immediately.”

When you heard the mention of the crisis intervention team you logged out of the call and ran down.

The guys were already jumping in their gears and starting the trucks. You grabbed the fireproof jacket and pants that were mandatory for you to wear on calls with “MONROE” written on its back.

You followed Dean, who was working with you today, and sat beside him in the engine truck.

You scanned the crew on board and didn’t see Noah there, he was in the ladder then.

Your captain rode with you and gave you more instructions as you were on the way to the scene.

"Some of the staff and kids are already out. Station 35 is already on scene, and Captain of 35 is in charge. Follow his instructions. The priority is to get the rest of the individuals out and extinguish the fire. Tessa and Dean, you’re assigned to work with Station 35 on those who have already been evacuated. Copy that?"

All of you yelled “copy” back at him and you heard muffled voices over the radio from your other truck. At the scene you quickly jumped out of the cars and everyone got to work. Noah was extinguishing the fire from outside alongside a few others and the crew from 35. Nick ran into the building as a head of evac. Your attention was on the small group of kids and two women. They were being treated by the medical team and you approached to help. You were treating small injuries and engaged in conversation with those poor kids. Most of them were crying from feeling scared and from losing the little belongings they had inside that building. You were trying to calm them down, even if they wanted a hug or a kiss to their forehead, you didn’t mind doing that. All of them went through a lot at this young age and seeing a place they called home on fire was hard for them. More kids and staff were evacuated from the building by Nick and his crew. “There’s two more, but they don’t want to leave their room.” you heard behind your back. “Grab someone from the crisis intervention team and get them out.” the captain of 35 barked back. “No one is trained for that sir.” one of the firefighters told him. “Monroe, come here!” the captain called your name. “Yes sir?” “Grab an oxygen mask and follow lieutenant Smith, you’re needed inside.” “Sir I’m not trained for going inside of the building.” you started to feel panic, searching the crowd for your captain, but he must’ve been fighting the fire alongside his men. “We have to save lives and if they don’t want to come out, we have to get to them. Grab a mask and go!” he yelled in your face. You didn’t have any support, because around you were just firefighters from 35 and they didn’t know you really were not trained to run inside. “Sir with all respect I can’t go th-” “You either get inside and save those kids or you don’t have a job tomorrow.” what an asshole. One of the firefighters helped you with the oxygen mask and helmet and motioned for you to follow him. You looked around the chaotic place and saw guys from your crew, hoping they'd notice where you were going and stop it, but neither of them would’ve thought it was you under the oxygen mask.

“They’re on the first floor.” Smith told you over the radio ran upstairs and you followed him. It was your first time seeing fire from this side. You were always standing outside, watching from a safe distance. When you reached the closed doors Smith pointed at them, signaling for you to do your job. “Can anyone hear me?” you yelled. “Yes!” two little voices called back from the other side of the door. “Can you open the door?” “No!” they yelled back. “Okay, stand back so when we kick the door open it won’t hit you okay?” “Okay!” you nodded to Smith that he can use his strength to open the door, because you were no help for that. Once he kicked the door open everything happened so fast. You saw two little boys in the corner of the room, holding hands and hugging each other. Their eyes were full of fear and hope at the same time. Before you had a chance to reach out your hands the roof collapsed and you saw black. You couldn’t open your eyes and your breathing became more difficult. You could hear the boys crying and Smith saying “Two men down, I repeat two men down! Two civilians with us!” before you blacked out completely.

After that another group of firefighters ran inside to save the four of you. One of them grabbed the two boys and ran back up, another one helped Smith to stand up and leave. Then you felt your body being lifted and you knew you were safe. Hopefully without any injuries too.

“Is that Tess?” Nick yelled to his captain when he saw your body being laid on the ground and your oxygen mask taken off. “What the fuck was she doing inside?” he quickly ran to you, leaving Nick behind.

At that point Noah started looking for you at the medical tent, worried when he didn’t see you there. “Hey, have you seen Monroe?” he asked one of the helping firefighters. “Cap sent her inside.” Noah’s heart stopped for a second. What did he mean inside? There’s no way he would send you inside of a building that’s on fire.

He quickly ran back to the scene and saw your captain kneeling next to you. He forgot about all the promises that your relationship won’t affect your work and his boyfriend's mood kicked in. “Why the fuck was she inside?” he yelled when he hovered over your body. “I don’t know Sebastian, calm down. Don’t make a scene.” your captain told him. He understood he was worried, but for the sake of both of your jobs he tried to calm him down. “Don’t make a scene? Are you fucking kidding me?” he yelled again, louder this time. He dropped to his knees next to you and grabbed your head in his hands. Someone already put an oxygen mask on your face and checked your breathing. “It’s probably just smoke inhalation Noah.” And the captain was probably right, but Noah was still pissed. “Come on wake up Tess.” he begged you, “Please wake up.” After what he has been through he didn’t care if it was just a smoke inhalation, he hated seeing you like this. He couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to you, not right now when he finally started to feel happy. “Baby please.” he leaned down to kiss your motionless face. “Please.” he cried into your hair.

Noah’s face and his wet cheeks were the first thing you saw when you finally gained consciousness. “Noah.” you whispered and lifted your hand to wipe his tears. “Oh thank god!” he pulled you in a hug and didn’t want to let go. Ever. “Let’s hand her over to the paramedics, Sebastian.” the captain said, happy to see you conscious too. Noah lifted you in his arms and carried you over to the ambulance. He couldn’t drive with you to the hospital where they decided to take you for a check up. “I’m gonna pick you up okay?” he gave you one last kiss before he jumped out of the back door and closed them. “Is she gonna be okay?” Nick asked, his voice full of worry. “Yeah, they said she passed out from the smoke inhalation. They’re gonna keep her overnight though.” before Nick could say he’s sorry Noah continued “Where’s the incident commander?” “Noah don’t be stupid.” Nick knew Noah well, he knew he was about to beat the shit out of that guy. “Do you know where he is?” Noah repeated his question and when Nick didn’t give him an answer he went to look for him himself.

“Captain Wilson!” Noah yelled when he spotted the man he was looking for. “Yes?” “Do you think it’s okay to send untrained staff inside a building that’s on a fucking fire?” Noah raised his voice. “Stand back lieutenant.” Wilson warned Noah. “You should stand back if that’s how you treat your people. She’s not trained to be a firefighter and she got hurt because you sent her inside!” he pointed his finger to the older man. “It was an accident.” that man didn’t seem like it bothered him at all. “An accident?” Noah closed the gap between them and was now standing chest to chest with him. “Noah.” he felt hand on his arm pulling him away. “I know you want to beat his ass, but he’s not worth it.” Jolly said in a low voice so only Noah could hear him. Noah kept staring at that man and with every breath he took he felt the anger inside him grow bigger. “I’m not letting this go, I’ll file a complaint against you.” and with that Noah turned around and stormed away.

—

“I’m glad you’re feeling better Tessa.” your captain told you after you sat down in one of the chairs in his office. Noah did the same beside you. “Thank you cap.”

You were released after 12 hours from the hospital and Noah took it as his own mission to keep an eye on you. He took you to his place and laid you down in his bed. You were happy when he let you use the bathroom by yourself and you had to beg him not to take a day off from his next shift. Your body was a bit bruised from the frames that fell on you, but other than that you felt fine. You were not back at work, you still had a few days for full recovery, but today you two were called to the captain's office.

“Your complaint was accepted and is currently under review. Someone will contact you for your testimony next week.” “Okay sir.” “Now, let’s talk about why I called you both here.” he shifted in his chair, visibly uncomfortable about the topic he wanted to discuss. “I don’t mean any of this in a bad way, but what happened after that incident can’t happen again. You can’t threaten an incident commander Noah, he outranks you.” “But it was his fault.” Noah protested. “It was, I agree with you. Someone from my crew has been hurt because of his orders and I hate that more than anyone. But your reaction was wrong.”

The fact was that both you and Noah knew it. He confessed what he did, because you didn’t believe him when he said he did nothing. He was a terrible liar, he was looking everywhere but in your eyes and kept fiddling with his fingers.

“I apologize.” Noah mumbled and avoided any eye contact. “I’m not gonna punish you for it, but I just wanted you both to hear it from me. Things like this can’t happen okay? Keep your feelings at home and work like colleagues. Let’s avoid any trouble, because I like you both and I don’t want to lose any of you just because you can’t control yourself. Human resources are not happy about you two, so please, try not to mess this up for all of us.” he didn’t leave any space for a discussion and dismissed both of you.

Noah walked you to your car that was parked in front of the station. “Are you mad?” he asked, you already told him many times that you were not mad, but it seems like he has a hard time believing you. “Why would I be mad at my boyfriend for standing up for me?” when you said it like that he finally cracked a smile and looked less worried. “See you tomorrow?” he leaned down to kiss you before he had to go back inside. “Yeah, mine or yours?” “I’ll drive to yours if that’s okay?” “Of course it is.”

You gave him a few more kisses, on his forehead, nose, cheeks and lips. Something that always made him smile. He waited until you backed out of the parking space and you saw him standing there in your rearview mirror until you turned right. You knew what Noah did was wrong, but you still appreciated the gesture of standing up for you when you couldn’t do it for yourself.

You drove yourself to your place, ready to spend the next few days in bed until you’re allowed to go back to work.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

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[just-dreaming-marvel]

A Princess & Her Knight ~ 28

A PRINCESS & HER KNIGHT MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,655ish

Summary: You and Logan can't handle any time apart.

Notes: This is the last fluff one for a bit. There is more notes on the bottom.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

The echo of your voice filled the council chamber as you dismissed the morning meeting. Parchment shuffled, chairs scraped, and ministers bowed low before filing out one by one. The doors shut behind them with a heavy thunk, leaving only silence.

“Six days back from the honeymoon and my dear husband as gone quiet,” you commented. 

A low growl came from the far corner. “I’m not quiet. I’m ignored.”

You turned around— he was leaning against the stone pillar by the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. That scowl hadn’t left his face since the moment you told him you couldn’t stay in bed all day. It was almost adorable. 

You tilted your head, amused. “You’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting,” he grumbled. “I’m waiting. There’s a difference.”

“For what?” You slowly headed towards him. “The end of the kingdom?”

“For you. To stop playing Queen long enough to come home.”

You stopped, just enough for you to be out of reach. “Playing Queen? Is that what you think?”

Logan’s face fell as he took in the words that had slipped form his own lips. “No, my love, that’s not—“

A teasing smile formed on your lips as closed the distance. Your hands slid up his chest, smoothing his shirt. “You’re fine, Logan… Just jealous of my paperwork, huh?”

Logan nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “Jealous of anything that takes you away from me for more than an hour. That list includes paper, ministers, council members, and Jean when she reminds you about meals.”

You laughed. “You’re insufferable.”

His lips brushed against your ear as his voice dropped to a rasp. “And yet you married me.”

You let out a content sigh, fingers curling into the fabric near his heart. “I did, and I’d do it again. But only if you promise to keep being this grumpy whenever we’re apart for more than a heartbeat.”

“Being apart from you is a curse.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “I hate being away from you too, you know?”

He sighed, resting his head in your neck. “Just… let me have you for a little while… Just you.”

“I have meetings all day. But, come to my office before dinner. Lock the door behind you.”

He smiled against your neck. “Now that sounds like an order I’m willing to follow.”

~~~

The throne room was quiet, the mid-morning sun slanting through the stained glass windows. You stood near the steps to the throe, arms folded tightly against your chest.

Scott’s voice still echoed in your ears from moments ago: “The village is divided, Logan. There’s talk of rebellion, but it can be quelled if we show up in force— with someone they trust. Someone the Queen trusts. Someone like you.”

Now, Logan stood before you. His jaw was tight and his eyes reluctant. “I don’t like this,” Logan muttered.

“I know,” you sighed.

“Ten days is too long.”

You stepped forward, smoothing the front of his shirt. “They need you. And I’m not made of glass. I’ll manage while you’re gone.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s everything and everyone else.”

Your heart ached at the look in his eyes— like leaving you was a kind of wound he would never heal from. “I’ll be right here, perfectly fine, when you get back.”

He rested his forehead against yours. “You better be… I won’t make it the full ten days if I think something’s wrong.”

“You won’t make the full ten if you keep looking at me like that.” You kissed him— slow, deep, and full of the ache of goodbye.

“We’re not leaving until the morning.”

“I can have Ororo take care of my schedule.”

“Good. I’m not letting you go until I have to.”

~~~

Day 1: Logan left before sunrise, not wanting to wake you. He kissed your temple as you slept and slipped out quietly. You woke up to an empty bed, heart sinking at the cold space beside you. You refused to touch your breakfast.

Day 2: You sat through council with eyes glazed, fingers twitching at your side where his hand should be. You missed just his presence beside you. You spoke up less in the meeting, voice tight when you did.

Day 3: Logan nearly broke a door of its hingers in the village after someone compared your rule to your predecessors.

Day 4: You slipped on one of Logan’s old tunics beneath your dress. No one could tell, but it comforted you. Keeping his scent with you. That night, you whispered to his pillow like he could hear you.

“Come home soon."

Day 5: You were found asleep in the library at midnight, after you were unable to fall asleep in your bed without Logan. Jean found you there, curled up in one of Logan’s cloaks.

Day 6: Logan road to the outskirts of the village and sent a note with a messenger. You received it during the evening. It arrived with smudged ink and a bit of blood. You read it ten times before you slept with it under your pillow.

Day 7: Logan snapped at Scott over a minor decision, causing Scott to send him to his tent like a child. 

Day 8: You went to the kitchens to bake the bread Logan constantly tries to sneak fresh out of the oven. You burned it horribly. The cook took over and soon handed you a proper loaf. You tore a piece off, crying as you ate it.

Day 9: Your advisors had to pause a meeting when you burst into tears over a spilled cup of tea. Ororo excused the room before hugging you tightly.

“You two have spent years side by side,” she told you quietly. “It’s not wrong— or a surprise— for you to feel undone without him.”

Day 10: Logan couldn’t take it anymore. He was supposed to return tomorrow, but he wasn’t about to wait another second. He arrived back at the castle past midnight, covered in dust. His boots echoed down the hall as he hurried to your chambers. 

You were still awake, pacing. When the door swung open, your head snapped to see Logan stepping in. You ran to him before he could speak. The two of each other held on tight.

“I missed you,” you whispered, voice cracking.

“I was useless without you,” he whispered back.

Then he kissed you. Not like it was a greeting or he was owed. Logan kissed you like he’d been drowning and your mouth was the only air that ever mattered. And you kissed him back with ten days of loneliness and a lifetime of love.

“You’re never leaving for that long again,” you rasped.

“I won’t. I swear it,” he promised. “I didn’t sleep. I didn’t eat right. I missed the way you talk in your sleep and how you wrinkle your nose when the court bores you.”

You smiled faintly. “I cried over tea.”

“I almost punched Scott over bread.”

You both laughed— soft and tired. Then the silence fell with ease and longing.

“I should bathe,” Logan whispered.

“Okay.”

“You should join me.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

~~~

The meeting was dragging. Numbers, crop reports, border updates. You listened with the practiced grace of a queen, but your thoughts were elsewhere. You head ached and your heart was heavy with too many decisions stacked one atop the other. Until the doors to the council chamber burst open.

Soaking wet, wind-swept, and grinning like a madman, Logan stormed into the room. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the room as advisors were alarmed. But he didn’t spare a glance for anyone but you.

You blinked at him, stunned. “Logan?”

He strode towards you, dripping rain across the stone flor, every step radiating with urgency and mischief. “Sorry,” he said, loud enough to silence the room. “I need my wife for a moment.”

The council room went dead quiet.

Your heart tripped in your chest. “Logan, I’m in the middle of—“

“Not anymore,” he said gently. He took your hand, fingers damp and warm. “Just come.”

Something about the way he looked at you— serious beneath the grin, eyes burning with something deeper— made resistance fall away. You let him pull you from your seat, murmuring apologies to the stunned council. He guided you out of the chamber, ignoring the eyes that followed you. Once the door was shut behind you, Logan knelt without a word.

“What are you doing?” You wondered, completely confused.

His hands curled around your ankle, gentle as ever. “You’re not dancing in the rain with boots on.” He tugged one boot off, then the other, hands slow and steady.

“I still don’t understand,” you said as he stood after taking his own shoes off as well.

“It’s raining.” He pulled a damp folded piece of parchment out of his pocket.

You slowly opened it and gasped. It was the list you made during your honeymoon, months ago. On the list was, dance barefoot in the rain. Logan had remembered, even though you had forgotten.

“I promised that we’d get this list done and it’s raining,” he explained softly.

You let out a laugh as he took the parchment from you, resting it on your shoes and took your hand. He led you through the halls, quickening with each step as the sound of rain grew louder. The large castle courtyard was quiet. The stone glistened under the clouds. Logan pulled you into the downpour. You gasped as the rain soaked through your gown, warm and wild. Logan let out a low chuckle and spun you once, his hands sure at your waist.

“I can’t believe you remembered,” you breathed.

“I remember everything when it comes to you,” he replied, pulling you in and dancing.

Servants, guards, nobles, and others in the castle walls gathered near the windows and watched as their Queen happily danced with her husband. Barefoot. In the rain.

~~~

Notes: Okay. The next chapter, I know I will lose some readers. There will be a brief pregnancy. The Queen's response will very much be like my own response to it, if I were to get pregnant. And if you have followed me for a while, you know my thoughts on this. If this is where you choose to stop reading, I can respect that. But I hope you give me a chance. I have this series mapped out until their old ages. So you will see their lifetime. I hope that you will continue on this journey with me.

next chapter >

[lostmf]

By @cvnfvse

[otrtbs]

today is a mitski day today is for mitski today is just mitski today mitski

[anotherspookyarchivist]

Glad you all enjoyed this little AU of the AU. I hadn’t really planned on thinking about it much more after, since my other draft has a different premise... (and could be considered not as dark as this one)

@emiliens You are my favourite enabler. Since you asked, we'll get some more Stan in a Can in a bit. @kagaintheskywithdiamonds I really wanted to evoke those two familiar settings - and then pull the rug, because clearly Stan wouldn't know how to look after himself! Also fun that you mentioned it, but I really was thinking about "I have no mouth and I must scream" while writing about this. But I don't think Stan could manage to actually power 'up'. In the state he's in now, he's less than a ghost in a way; And he can't power up unless Stanford makes changes to the can. (Stanley would deserve a nice evil breakout, tho). @shanklin I wasn't ready to see "the cruelest thing anyone has ever done to Stan". And Ford would disagree! He's helping Stan. Keeping him secure. Ensuring that he wouldn't leave Ford. That can't be cruelty. /s @wonderingwhereileftreality I actually really like that take. In a story where Stanley is given some form of... final rest, this would probably be how it'd happen. However, In a universe that is meant to be as bad as it could get, then Stan would remain where he's at - aware enough of who he's supposed to be, but still removed from everything that would help him be himself & left at Ford's mercy (flipping between being he & it).

So here's a follow up Numbers: 3897.

3898.

3899.

The thing in the void had found its routine. Whenever the voice, his brother, would leave him he, or it, would start counting. Counting the hours might not work. Counting the minutes or seconds wouldn’t work either. But counting up meant time was passing. It was better than not knowing.

3900.

It should have realised it sooner: Numbers moving up implied that time was moving on. Such a simple thing. He wished it could sound out the numbers. Something to fill in the void, the silence that surrounded it; but there was nothing more than nothingness.

On another note, it had also realised that counting helped to keep his sanity afloat. Haha. Float. As if it knew what floating would even feel like.

3901.

3902.

3903.

The numbers would go quite high. The last time, the thing in the void counted up to 24602 but then the voice returned. Ford always sounded so fond. He’d say things like:

“Hello, Lee”, or “Good evening, Stanley” and then it would be silent for a bit. Sometimes there would be more words. Talking about the Institute. Mentions of the work on a portal. Always accentuated by the occasional “Stanley” or “Lee”. It knew why Stanford, Ford, the voice, was doing this.

3904.

It must have been so long since it had been placed in this container. The other once said that it knew enough about its state to provide it with whatever Stan needed. That must have been more than so many numbers ago, and yet, Ford had never acted upon it.

Stanley, because that’s who he is supposed to be, thought that Ford had no clue. If he knew, then he would have helped. He promises support. He promised a voice and care, and yet…

3905. 3906. 3907. 3908. 3909. 3910. 3911. 3912. 3913. 3914. 3915. 3916. 3917. 3918. 3919. 3920. 3921. 3922. 3923. 3924. 3925. 3926. 3927. 392-

Personhood. The being in the void wished it could giggle. Stanley’s vocabulary had both increased and diminished. What else could happen if there was nothing else to latch onto? Another word that was hilarious: Monotony. Ford uses it to describe his work. Stanley uses it to describe its existence.

3924. or was it higher. Was it lower?

3918?

Did it matter?

3919. 3920. 3921. 3922.

Stanford could read some of its bigger emotions. His negative emotions leading to exasperation and a “Really, Lee? Don’t act like this”.

3923.

But at least he could be understood. Stanley, the being in the void, remembers how it tried to focus on those emotions. Send these… wherever they’d go so that his brother would react to him, and not at him. It should have been liberating.

3924. 3925. 3926. It had been horrendous.

Stanford had been gone for too high a number afterwards. He didn’t like to think about it. The number had been so high that he had feared for a while that the other wouldn’t return at all.

Ford had said “and have you calmed down now?” and it knew that no outbursts were allowed. Outbursts meant that Stanley was unhappy. It wasn’t unhappy. If it were unhappy, then Stanford would call him, ungrateful and leave.

3947.

3948.

Having emotions that were too loud were bad. So he didn’t.

3949.

Ford would return, say “Hello, Lee” and he’d exist for a bit, and at some point the other would leave and it would start to count.

3950.

There were days where Ford would tell him that this was only temporary. “Hold on for just a bit longer, I promise you Lee.” but then never elaborate upon the promise.

3951. 3952. 3953. 39-

“Good Evening, Stanley”

Oh. He’s here. Lee had to stay calm. There was no reason to anger the voice. It’s just arrived.

“All looks to be fine as ever. No change in vitals, your essence still strong. You’re doing well, Stanley.”

It was careful to listen to every word. Sometimes Ford would tell him about the world outside. It couldn’t quite remember what it looked like, but he knew that there was more than nothingness somewhere. He longed for it. But only slightly. He wouldn’t want Ford to chastise him again.

“I miss you, Lee. I promise, after we’ve finished our next project, I’ll get to solve your issue. You just have to be a bit more patient. It means that I won’t have time to visit in a while. I trust you’ll be fine, until then?”

A spike of fear. How long? How many numbers? How many numb-

Was that a frustrated huff, did it… did he… oh no. no no no no no no. It tried to feel sorry. It tried to feel less agitated, but Ford would always know when he lied.

“I don’t understand your attitude Stanley. I am here to help you, and yet you act as if I am the bad guy. Science is meticulous. I just don’t want to break you. Don’t you understand? This is for your safety.”

It understood. It did. He didn’t want this, but it was the best it could have and Ford was looking after him. Promises were made. But also it didn’t want to be left alone. How many numbers. How many numbers would he have to count?

But he didn’t know. Ford had left at some point. And there wasn’t much that it could do.

1.

2.

3.

Counting numbers was a good way to know that time was passing. He thought it’d keep it sane.

4.

...but if he was counting at a slower pace… wouldn’t that mean that Ford would return sooner as well? At least he could pretend that that was how it worked.

Oh the urge to write a dark-ish psychological horror set in "A Better World" from Stan's POV is so strong.

[accordionlover]

well they actually break you right back. so.