#Would she want to reconnect with these emotions and memories that she knows she’s been programmed from? How would it feel to know

[hoshifighting]

Cherry Picked

Synopsis: To get closer to university, you decide to move back to your childhood home. That's when you bump into Seungcheol, an old friend you haven't seen in ages. Surprisingly, he still remembers how much you loved the cherries he used to pick for you from his backyard when you were kids.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Ex neighbors, ex childhood friends to lovers, smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), ass slapping, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, cum swallowing, praising, pleasured tears, Seungcheol is such a sweet guy (he gives cherries in your mouth), wap and etc.

The decision to move in with your grandma came from the practicality of being close to the university you were about to start. As you settled into your chosen course, you realized that the proximity of your grandma's house would not only provide a familiar and comforting place but also ease the transition into this new chapter of your life.

The idea of being near the university meant more than just convenience. It was an opportunity to reconnect with the cherished memories of your childhood, with the added support and love your grandma could offer. As you stood on the familiar sidewalk in front of your grandma's house, memories of childhood vacations flooded your mind. The pretty white house, with its charming garden and welcoming porch, stirred up emotions as the taxi came to a stop. It was a neighborhood filled with nostalgia.

Taking your baggage from the taxi, you looked around at the fancy houses lining the street. Children played on the sidewalks, and elders observed the comings and goings of the neighborhood, a scene that hadn't changed much since your middle school days.

You walked up to the front door, memories echoing with each step. With a deep breath, you touched the ring bell, anticipation bubbling within you. The door opened, and there stood your grandma, her eyes lighting up with joy. She enveloped you in a tight hug, the warmth of her embrace and the familiar scent of good food in the air immediately comforting.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you again!" she exclaimed, holding you at arm's length to get a good look at you. "Come in, come in! I've been waiting for this day."

You stepped inside, and the atmosphere of the house embraced you like an old friend. The scent of home-cooked meals wafted through the air, instantly transporting you to the countless happy moments spent in this very place.

"I've cleaned up your room, dear. I wanted everything to be just as you remember it," your grandma said, leading you down the familiar hallway. The floor creaked slightly beneath your feet, adding to the symphony of memories.

As you entered your childhood room, a flood of emotions washed over you. The room, though tidied up, held remnants of your past – the posters on the walls, the cozy bed, and the worn-out but cherished belongings. It was as if time had stood still.

"Thank you, Grandma. It feels like I've stepped back in time," you said, a lump forming in your throat. "I've missed this place."

She smiled warmly, patting your cheek affectionately. "You're always welcome here, my love. Now, freshen up, and we'll have a nice dinner together. There's so much to catch up on."

As you settled into the room, the nostalgia continued to weave its magic, creating a comforting cocoon that wrapped around your heart. 

As you sat down for dinner with your grandma, the aroma of home-cooked meals filling the air, she couldn't help but bring up the topic of your love life. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she asked, "So, any boyfriends in the picture, dear?"

You chuckled, poking at your food. "No, Grandma, no boyfriends at the moment. Just focusing on university and settling in."

She raised an eyebrow playfully, "Oh, come on! Someone as beautiful as you must have admirers."

You blushed at the compliment, "Well, maybe, but no serious contenders."

With a mischievous grin, she leaned in a little closer. "You know, now that you're back in the neighborhood, maybe you'll find someone interesting. I did see Seungcheol, you know, Mrs. Choi's grandson from down the street. He looked so cute the other day."

You tilted your head in confusion, surprised by the sudden matchmaking suggestion. "Seungcheol? Really, Grandma?"

She chuckled, nodding. "Yes, really! He's a nice young man, and he's been doing some work around the neighborhood."

Amused by your grandma's matchmaking efforts, you couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Grandma, you're something else. Maybe I'll bump into him and say hello..."

She joined in your laughter, the sound echoing through the familiar walls of the dining room. "You never know what the neighborhood might have in store for you!"

The morning sun painted a golden hue over the neighborhood as you tiptoed down the stairs, determined not to disturb your grandma, who was still enjoying her peaceful slumber. After a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast, you felt refreshed and ready to explore more of your childhood haven.

Entering your bedroom, you set about tidying up a few things. As you moved some items around, your eyes fell upon a dusty old box tucked away in a corner. Curiosity piqued, you opened it to find a treasure trove of dolls and toys, relics from your own childhood.

A smile played on your lips as memories flooded back, and an idea sparked. The sound of children playing in the garden next door echoed through the open window, and you recalled the two little girls you had seen the day before. With the box of toys in hand, you made your way down to the garden.

Leaning against the fence, you called out to the two girls who were engrossed in their own imaginative play. They turned to you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise, but soon broke into gentle waves as they approached.

"Hi girls!" you greeted them warmly, holding up the box of toys. "I found these old dolls and toys in my room. Would you like to play with them?"

Their eyes widened with excitement, and genuine smiles spread across their faces. You crouched down, placing the box on the grass and inviting them to explore its contents. The girls eagerly delved into the box full of dolls, their joy infectious.

As you were about to bid them farewell and head back inside, they called out, "What's your name?"

You chuckled at their innocence. "I'm Y/N," you replied.

They exchanged glances before one of them asked, "Y/N, do you want to play with us?"

You hesitated for a moment, the memories of your own carefree days flooding back. With a warm smile, you sat down on the grass, joining the two girls in their imaginative world. The laughter, chatter, and the timeless joy of play filled the air as you momentarily lost track of time.

As you sat on the grass, enjoying the laughter and playing with the two little girls, the crunching sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. A shadow fell over you, and a friendly voice rang out, "Hi, pretty girls. Your mom is calling you for lunch."

Looking up, you were met with the sight of a handsome young man holding a basket full with cherries. You quickly got up, brushing the grass off your shorts, and apologized, "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize how quickly time passed."

He smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No worries at all. It looked like you were having a great time."

Glancing over at the two girls heading into the house for lunch, you returned your attention to the boy in front of you. As you looked into his eyes, you immediately recognized the gummy smile and the familiar warmth it brought. The basket of cherries triggered a flood of memories, and it dawned on you that this was Seungcheol – the same Seungcheol who used to deliver cherries to your grandma's door when you were younger.

"Seungcheol?" you asked, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips.

His eyes widened in pleasant surprise, and he returned the smile. "Yeah, that's me. You remember?"

"Of course!" you exclaimed, a wave of memories washing over you. "You used to deliver cherries to my grandma's house all the time when I was younger. It's been years."

Seungcheol chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Wow, small world. I remember your grandma always appreciated those cherries. My grandma used to send them directly from her backyard."

As you both started walking towards the house, cherries in hand, Seungcheol continued, "I still help my grandma with the cherries. It's a tradition now. Anyway, it's good to see you again. Your grandma mentioned you're back in the neighborhood."

"Yeah, just moved in," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Your attention shifted to the basket of cherries Seungcheol held, the fruit looking ripe, round, and tempting. — Cherry is still your favorite fruit, but you don't know if he remembers— Seungcheol noticed your gaze and offered, "Want some? They're fresh."

You smiled gently "Oh, no, thank you. I'm good."

Seungcheol grinned, seemingly understanding, and said, "Alright, I'm going to deliver these. I'll leave you right at your door. It's literally the next house."

As you walked together towards your grandma's house, he carried the basket of cherries with ease. The short distance allowed for a brief conversation.

"So, how's everything been since you moved back?" Seungcheol inquired, his casual tone making the conversation feel effortless.

"It's been good," you replied, a genuine smile playing on your lips. "Just settling in, you know? It feels nice to be back."

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "Well, we're all happy to have you back. The neighborhood has missed you."

As you reached the doorstep, Seungcheol stopped, turning to you with a small bow of his head. "Well, here you are. If you ever need anything or just want to catch up, you know where to find me."

With a friendly wave, Seungcheol continued on his way, leaving you standing at the familiar doorstep of your grandma's house.

[...]

The doorbell chimed, and your grandma, bustling around in the kitchen, called out for you to answer it. You eagerly made your way to the door, and as it creaked open, there stood Seungcheol, a vision of a hardworking young man with a basket of cherries in his hands.

Dressed in a white shirt that clung to his muscular arms and chest, with gardener jeans bearing the traces of dirt and a smudge on his face, he looked like he had been tending to his grandmother's backyard. The baskets he held were filled with an abundance of cherries, their vibrant red hue catching your eye.

"Hey there," Seungcheol greeted, a warm smile on his slightly flushed face. "Remember cherries being your favorite?"

You beamed, genuinely surprised by the thoughtful gesture. "Yes, they still are. How did you remember that?"

He tilted his head, a hint of shyness coloring his cheeks. "Oh, you know, memories just pop up sometimes." Seungcheol handed you the larger, more beautiful basket of cherries, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Wow, thank you so much," you exclaimed, the surprise evident in your voice. "Are these for me?"

He nodded, his smile widening. "Yep, especially for you. I hope you like them."

Your heart warmed at his gesture, and you thanked him sincerely. Watching him head towards his house, you closed the door behind you. Turning to your grandma, who had observed the exchange with a knowing grin, you both burst into laughter.

"Oh, Grandma, Seungcheol brought cherries," you shared, holding the basket close to your heart.

She chuckled, a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, isn't that sweet? Looks like someone remembers your favorites."

As you savored the cherries Seungcheol had brought, your grandma, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, reminded you of her plans for the next day.

"By the way, dear, tomorrow I'm going to a senior's dance with Mrs. Choi," she said, a playful smile playing on her lips. "Do you mind being alone for the evening?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at her teasing tone. "Oh, not at all, Grandma. I'll be just fine. You go enjoy the dance. It sounds like a lot of fun."

She nodded, her smile widening. "Good, good. You know where everything is if you need anything. And who knows, maybe Seungcheol will be around to keep you company."

Your cheeks warmed at the suggestion, and you playfully rolled your eyes. 

As the next afternoon rolled around, you glanced out the window and noticed Mrs. Choi and your grandma making their way to a taxi. Seungcheol, being the courteous young man he always was, helped them into the cab with a gentle demeanor.

Hidden behind the door, you couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding before you. Seungcheol's kindness and attentiveness were evident, and the sight warmed your heart. It seemed like some things never changed, and Seungcheol continued to be the sweet, considerate person you remembered from your childhood.

You took a moment to appreciate the simple beauty of the moment – the friendship between the grandmothers and the helpfulness of Seungcheol – Seungcheol turned around, catching your eye, and offered his signature gummy smile. He approached you, a bit of dirt still clinging to his gardener jeans, and started a conversation.

"Hey there," he greeted, his warm gaze fixed on you. "My grandma asked me to keep you company while they're out. I hope you don't mind."

You quickly responded, "Oh, no, it's not necessary. I don't want to bother you. You have your work to do."

Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head. "No bother at all. In fact, it's my invitation. Come with me, and you can watch me pick the cherries."

You hesitated for a moment but couldn't resist the genuine warmth in his invitation. "Well, if you insist. I wouldn't mind watching you in action."

With a playful grin, he gestured towards his grandma's backyard. "Great! Let's go."

You followed him to the back, finding a cozy spot on the little stairs that provided access to the rear of the house. Seungcheol, with his basket in hand, started picking cherries from the lush trees.

As the comfortable silence settled between you and Seungcheol, you took a moment to bask in the warmth of the sun, closing your eyes and relishing the feeling on your skin. When you opened your eyes again, the scene had shifted. Seungcheol was now busy washing the cherries inside a bucket.

His movements were light and deliberate, but your attention was quickly drawn to the definition in his arms. The gardener's jeans showcased his strong legs, and as he washed the cherries, the muscles in his forearms flexed with every careful movement. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, running down the side of his ear, and his chest was accentuated by the tight white shirt.

You found yourself captivated by the unintentional display of his body. The sight of his veiny hands moving gracefully as he washed the cherries seemed to mesmerize you. The play of sunlight highlighted the contours of his arms, and you couldn't help but follow every movement, unintentionally getting lost in the scene unfolding before you.

Without noticing, your legs were pressed together and your lip bitten between your teeth, panties getting ruined by how wet you are. 

As you lost yourself in the unintentional admiration of Seungcheol's physique, you were oblivious to the fact that he had noticed your subtle reactions – the rise and fall of your chest, the slight furrowing of your eyebrows. Little did you know, he had seen it all.

Breaking your reverie, you looked up to find Seungcheol walking towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. In his hand, he held a single cherry, and a playful smile adorned his face.

"Y/N," he said, holding the cherry between his fingers. "Open your mouth."

You widened your eyes, a sudden self-awareness hitting you as you adjusted your posture. Seungcheol, undeterred, gracefully squatted in front of you. With a gentle yet confident gesture, he presented the cherry, and you complied, opening your mouth to accept the fruit.

Seungcheol delicately placed the cherry on your tongue, and your lips wrapped around it lusciously. The subtle hum that escaped him at the view sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but blush at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

Seungcheol sat down next to you, drying his hands with a towel, and his mischievous side took over. Leaning in, he whispered teasingly into your ear, his voice low and filled with playful intent.

"So," he began, his tone a playful drawl, "do you always look at guys washing cherries like that, or am I just lucky today?"

You breathe sharply, trying to compose yourself, so you don't seem more desperate than you already are. Seungcheol's playful teasing continued, his tone filled with humor as he leaned in a bit closer.

"Or maybe," he added with a sly grin, "you've got a secret cherry fetish? Admiring the way we handle them, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh at Seungcheol's teasing remarks, his playful banter adding a layer of humor to the unexpected moment. "Oh, you caught me," you responded, feigning a dramatic admission. "I'm a cherry enthusiast, secretly critiquing everyone's cherry-picking technique."

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the shared amusement creating an easy camaraderie between you. "Well, lucky for me, I've got the best cherry-picking technique in the neighborhood,"

"Is that the only thing you're good at?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Seungcheol's expression shifted, his playful smile replaced by a more provocative look. He licked his lips and raised an eyebrow, his gaze holding yours with a hint of intensity. "Is there something else you think I should be doing?" he asked, the air between you suddenly thick with a newfound tension.

"Is there something you want to show me?" you asked, your voice laced with a teasing invitation.

Seungcheol's eyes darkened with a hint of desire as he bit his lower lip, the provocative expression sending a thrill down your spine. His response was a low, husky murmur, more teasing than ever, "Oh, I've got a few things in mind sweetheart."

"Yeah?" you responded, a playful glint in your eyes as you continued to eat him up with your gaze.

Seungcheol's control wavered, and with a sudden impulse, reached out, pulling you onto his lap. The move was confident and electrifying, instantly closing the distance between you. 

Seungcheol's response was a husky "Yeah," laden with desire, and without further hesitation, he closed the gap between you. His lips devoured yours in a heated kiss, a culmination of the teasing banter and charged glances that had been building throughout the afternoon.

The taste of sweet cherries lingered on both your lips, adding a sensual undertone to the passionate exchange. Seungcheol's big arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer, the proximity intensifying the electrifying connection between you. The world outside seemed to fade away as the kiss deepened, the shared desire threading through the intimate embrace.

Seungcheol grabbed your hair, exposing the delicate skin of your neck. The sudden roughness sent a thrill through your body, and you squirmed on his lap in response, making him groan.

His lips found your neck, and with a mixture of kisses and bites, he left a trail of sensations that sparked pleasure and desire. The intensity of the moment heightened as he explored the sensitive skin, each kiss and nip fueling the growing heat between your legs. 

Seungcheol's hands, still firmly gripping your hair, traveled down to your ass, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh with a teasing grip. The rough denim of his gardener's jeans added an extra layer of friction, making your pussy throb.

"Seungcheol," you breathed, your voice a mixture of longing and anticipation, "more."

His lips, still grazing your neck, paused for a moment as he looked up, a wicked glint in his eyes. "More, huh?" he teased, his fingers tightening their hold on your ass. "What do you want, exactly?"

"Fuck me? Please?" You ask almost begging, your hips grinding on his clothed cock.

The boldness in your response seemed to ignite a deeper flame within Seungcheol. His eyes darkened with desire, and a low, guttural moan escaped his lips at your explicit request. Without further words, he took immediate action.

His hands, still firmly grasping your arms, guided you to stand. Seungcheol, driven by the hornyness, led you towards the inside of the house. Pressing his bulge on your ass, as he grabs your tits over your shirt, making you mewl. 

Seungcheol's hands skillfully unclasped the buttons of his gardener. The fabric surrendered to gravity, finding its way to the ground, leaving him only in his shirt. With a swift motion, he discarded the shirt, casting it aside without a second thought.

With a swift motion, he pushed your shorts and panties down, and in the quiet of the room, you swore you heard a faint, tantalizing sound, perhaps a soft tearing as fabric met the fervor of the moment.

But to be honest, out of all the problems– your pussy clenching around nothing – a rip in your shorts was the least of it.

The way Seungcheol looked at your sopping cunt, spreading your folds with two fingers admiring how soaked you looked, the action made you leak. "Hmm, looking so wet for me, I should pick cherries in front of you more often…" He smiles, giving an open-mouthed kiss on your clit.

Your legs flinch, and immediately involve his two arms around your legs, tugging you down. "Shit! Yes Seungcheol!" 

He sucks your clit bobbing his head, his mouth forming a pout around the bud while his tongue slipped inside of your pussy sometimes. As a welcome, the last thing you expected to receive when you arrived in the city was to have your childhood friend eating you out like a starving man, while holding your legs tightly.

Seungcheol tried to keep you pressed on the bed, but your hips bucked against his face and your legs trembled around his head, so in a way to keep you quieter, he slapped your thigh, making your body jolt. "A-ah!" Well, he supposed it would keep you quiet.

But you arched your back, moaning his name deliciously while your hands gripped the sheets. 

"Oh? You liked that?" He gives you a surprised glance. And you nod, your cheeks flushed. 

His hands caress the skin before giving you another slap, another and another…  

“Y-you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.” 

He grins, before starting to lap your clit fast, your head immediately spinning because of the different stimulations. And your orgasm comes without warning, the strength of his arms can't prevent your legs from wrapping around his head.

Arousal fat drops run down your cunt, making his face and lips glossy. As Seungcheol got up, the air in the room seemed to shimmer with the residue of your orgasm. Your breathing was heavy, each inhale a reminder of the intensity.

The sight of Seungcheol's milky skin, now fully at your disposal, rekindled a surge of energy within you. Almost immediately, you couldn't resist the urge to reciprocate, driven by a fiery desire that demanded more.

With a burst of enthusiasm, you wrapped your hands around his neck, surprising him as you playfully knocked him onto the bed. His laughter filled the room, a harmonious melody to the charged atmosphere. Undeterred, you leaned down, your hands now venturing towards the hem of his underwear.

Tugging at the fabric, you slid the underwear down his leg, revealing more of his bare skin. His hard cock jumps from the piece of cloth, the head flushed and the slit already leaking the glistening precum. 

Sensually, you wrapped your tongue around his cock, a slow and deliberate motion from the base to the tip. The moment reached its peak as you provocatively put the whole dick inside your mouth, your lips touching the base of his pelvis. Seungcheol's body squirmed in response to the sensual display.

The room fell silent, except for the sound of Seungcheol moans and the slurping of your mouth on his cock. 

Seungcheol's hands thread through your hair. His touch guided you as you continued to enjoy the length of his dick. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with the growing intensity of the moment. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, each sound a testament to the desire that pulsed through his body. 

"Fuck… You're taking me so well." His breath hisses when his tip presses on the tight clutch of your throat.

He loves how messy you're taking his cock, your drool mixing with his pre cum, dropping to his pelvis. As he bucked his hips, you gagged around his cock, the combination of sensations driving him to a new height of pleasure. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and the room echoed with the sounds of his moans.

"Fuck hmm, fuck, I'm coming!" He warns, the dick twitching inside of your mouth. The warm spurts of cum hits your tongue while his grip on your hair tightens, making you groan. 

The room hung in a momentary silence as you released your mouth from his cock, revealing your tongue glistening with his cum. With deliberate intent, you closed your mouthh and swallowed, the action met with a defeated moan from Seungcheol.

Hel grabs you and pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss. His hands gripped your ass, making the flesh jiggle under his touch. The embrace was both fervent and possessive as your tongues entwined in a delicious struggle, you felt the heat of Seungcheol's cock recomposing against your thigh. 

Seungcheol, with a sudden assertiveness, rolled your bodies on the bed, placing you underneath him. Like a masterful dance, he flipped you effortlessly, your chest now pressed against the mattress. You felt his strong hands holding your hips up, and you instinctively wiggled your ass against his already hardened dick.

His husky voice whispered in your ear, "You look amazing like this. I'm so hard already" The words hung in the air, carrying with them a sense of appreciation and desire. 

In response to Seungcheol's appreciative words, you teased, "Yeah? So why don't you do something about it?"

"I didn't remember you being this bold," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

Your playful giggle reverberated in the room as you pressed your hips against Seungcheol. The renewed contact elicited a hiss from him, a reaction to the wet feeling between you.

Seungcheol teased, a smirk playing on his lips, "Admit it. I've officially ruined cherries for you. From now on, every time you see one, you'll think of me."

Raising an eyebrow, "Why are you so sure of it?" Before he could even respond, he silenced you abruptly, slamming his dick inside and effectively shutting up your words, even as you screamed in response.

Seungcheol, now teasing you in return, whispered in a husky voice as your body trembled on the sheets. "Looks like cherries aren't the only thing I've ruined for you," he teased, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Oh, of course. Your pussy really looked ruined now.

You, caught in the swirl of sensations, tried to retort, but he continued his playful banter. "Maybe I should find more things to claim," he mused, his hands exploring your body with a deliberate touch. "What do you say?"

"Oh my g-god! Fuck you!" 

The sharp response you gave to Seungcheol only seemed to fuel his desire. Without missing a beat, he slammed his hips hard again, asking mockingly, "What?" The rhythm of his movements became relentless, a series of repeated slams that left you gasping and screaming, the room filled with the sounds of pleasure and desire.

He continued the forceful thrusts, each one pushing you further into a state of ecstasy. The wetness that enveloped his dick, your slickness dripping on his bed, but you couldn't care less, not when his dick was buried deep inside your cunt.

Seungcheol, merciless in his actions, mocked playfully as your voice became silenced by pleasure, "Not talking anymore, huh?" Your eyes filled with pleasure-induced tears, and your face buried in the pillow, the sensations becoming overwhelming as he brought you mercilessly to the edge.

The room seemed to pulsate with the wet sounds echoing from your pussy, the intertwined moans of pleasure grew louder with each passing second. Every thrust hits your sweet spot, until the familiar sensation starts to be present. And Seungcheol could teel, for sure, since your pussy clenched hard around his cock, making him whimper even louder.

Seungcheol, in the midst of the passionate encounter, asked you to let go completely, urging you to release your pleasure. "Cream all over my cock sweetheart… Oh my god, you look so good baby!" he whispered, a genuine appreciation in his voice.

As you complied, cumming all over his pretty cock, he couldn't help but express how good you looked. Sincerity laced his words as he admired the sight before him – your hair falling beautifully on the bed and on your face, your arched back, lips parted, furrowed eyebrows expressing ecstasy, moans escaping your blissed-out face.

Seungcheol moaned in pleasure at the captivating view in front of him, praising you as he felt himself getting closer. "You're so beautiful like this, lost in pleasure. I can't get enough of you."

As Seungcheol's abs tightened, you felt the surge of intensity as he filled you up with his cum. You took everything, your face buried in the pillows, a mixture of pleasure and raw emotion washing over you. His hips stuttered in the final moments, the room filled with the sounds of shared ecstasy.

As Seungcheol withdrew, a moan escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness, your body feeling both spent and satisfied. The aftermath of the intimate encounter left you sprawled on the bed, a mix of pleasure and exhaustion.

Seungcheol, after the intense and intimate exchange, finally laid beside you. As you both lay there, catching your breath, he looked into your eyes "You know," he began, his voice a gentle murmur, "this feels like coming home again. Having you here, it's like rediscovering a part of myself that I'd almost forgotten."

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[fallenhunnyapple]

Sketchy doodles for another AU. Details + a bonus in under the cut

An Angel Lucifer appears in Heaven. No one knows why he's there or how he got there, but it doesn't seem as though the Lucifer in Hell has been replaced, this is just a whole second Lucifer. His memories only seem to go so far as the early days of Eden. Days where he was friends with the First Humans but before he had developed any sort of relationship or even real feelings for Lilith.

Adam, sort of shaken but also sort of Eager to reconnect with his first friend and the more pleasant memories of Eden, advocates to let him Stay. This Lucifer hasn't done anything, he doesn't even know about the Tree of Knowledge and it's not like Eden exists anymore for him to try it anyway. Lucifer is granted the ability to live in Heaven, but Adam will have to be responsible for him. Adam agrees and now has to watch over a Naive and Friendly Lucifer.

Lute is Less than Thrilled. She doesn't like that Lucifer is always around and she doesn't Trust him, even if Adam seems to. She does eventually warm up to him, but given her personality it doesn't really seem like she does. But Lucifer notices and he considers her a good friend. He ends up spending time with just her without Adam (she's basically angelsitting because Adam had other things to do) and they bond a bit and she's willing to accept that he's Not the Devil and that he's no more threatening than most non-exorcist Angels.

And once Heaven determines the same, he's tasked with Working with Emily to maintain the Happiness of Heaven's residents. Emily keeps an eye on him, but mostly they are both very positive personalities that play off each other well and they become fast friends. The first time he spent the day with Emily was the day of the first Extermination since Lucifer got there. Someone had to watch him while Lute and Adam were away. He doesn't know about the Exterminations (Most of Heaven doesn't so it's no surprise), and he doesn't even know about Hell. It was deemed... For the Best if he was kept in the dark about that. No one knows how he came to be and they don't want to risk anything happening because he finds out about the other version of him.

Lucifer is Very In Love with Adam. It wasn't immediately or anything. At first he was just really happy to have his best friend back, especially when everything was so different from how he remembered it, it'd been thousands of years after all. But he spent most of his time with Adam and anyone could tell you that Adam was less of a crass asshole with Lucifer around. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable. And over that time, Lucifer still saw a lot of who Adam was in Eden but also came to appreciate who he was (No one understands why)

It took a while before Adam was comfortable enough to take off his helmet around Lucifer. Sure he knew his human face, but he'd definitely changed over the years and his insecurities about his face were made Worse when Lucifer only knew him at his Best. Lucifer finally got to see him maskless one night when Adam let him see him before bed. And Lucifer was super smitten. Yes his face was Different, but not in a way Lucifer thought was bad. Adam definitely looked Older and Tired, but he thought it was Endearing instead of put off. After that he would sometimes watch Adam sleep-

Adam for his part is in emotional turmoil. Yes, he was in Love with Lucifer in the Garden. But completely against his better Judgement, his feelings have evolved and he's in love with the King of Hell. He's reluctant to think about Angel Lucifer that way because he represents a simpler and more innocent time and he doesn't want to corrupt that with new feelings.

Lucifer eventually confides in Lute about his feelings and she tells him that 1) Adam isn't into men and 2) He doesn't do committed relationships. It won't end well for him if he tells Adam. Lucifer is hurt but appreciates her honesty. He decides to tell him anyway because it's getting hard to keep it all to himself when he's around him everyday.

Well, the confession goes about the way Lute said it would. Adam tells him he doesn't like dudes and he doesn't hold it against him because who wouldn't want a piece of him? But they're still friends, that won't change. Lucifer already braced for it and it hurts but he accepts that answer. The only thing is, now that its out in the open, his friendly nature is So Much Easier to read as him pining and him being in love. So Adam has to just deal with Lucifer's love being thrown at him every day. The behavior hasn't changed Too Much, but his understanding of it has. But other people of Heaven definitely Know. Its so obvious to them that Lucifer is in Love with Adam. Some people criticize Adam for leading Lucifer along and bad mouth him. Lucifer doesn't like hearing anyone talk poorly about his best friend and will chastise and scold them.

It's finally when some winner/angel tells Lucifer he should get Adam flowers (as a joke, they think it would be funny because Adam doesn't have an ounce of Romance in his whole body) that things change. Lucifer does get him flowers! And he gives them to him when they're alone and Adam has removed his helmet. This is the first time Lucifer has been Proactive about his feelings and Adam doesn't have the cover of his Mask to hide his true reactions, so he can't deny how the gesture affects him. He was really only ever able to keep himself in check about his feelings for Lucifer because Lucifer wasn't Doing anything different. He wasn't Pursuing him. But now? Now he can't deny it anymore. Lucifer asks for a kiss and he gets it.

Bonus:

As an Angel, Lucifer didn't know or understand much about sex. It was meant for Reproduction and Angels reproduce asexually so he had no interest in it. It was a thing for the creatures of Earth to have, not Angels. So he has No Idea it's a recreational thing and despite the fact that he knows Adam and Lute fuck around regularly, he just Really doesn't understand why and they don't explain it either. So after Lucifer and Adam are together, Lucifer wants to understand Better and discovers the fact that it is, in fact, something that can be done Recreationally and its supposed to Feel Good. So, of course, he wants to experience that with his new Boyfriend. Let him learn what all the fuss is about~

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #guitarduck #angel!lu au #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel emily #my art #suggestive #but only at the bonus at the end

[netherfeildren]

Greener Memories of Better Men

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…

Joel Miller is one of them. 

-OR- 

Sarah’s gone and Joel wants to feel close to her again. He reconnects with someone he used to know along the way.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak; Grief; Child loss; Emotional hurt/comfort; Angst; Fluff and smut; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (f!receiving); Size Difference; Size kink; Dirty talk; Truck sex; Praise kink

A/N: This was planned for a long time, and then just happened all at once today without prior thought. Enjoy! :)

Word Count: 10.8K

Read on AO3

When she got very sick, towards the end, they used to listen to “The Weight” by The Band all the time. He’d sit at her bedside playing it for her over and over again, and he’d watch her breathe. For hours, he’d sit there and watch the rise and fall of her chest, the slow, weak thrum of her pulse in her neck beneath the wan and clammy skin, listen to the sound of her fight to continue existing. Sometimes, when she was a little more on this side of lucid, when she’d let him look at those gorgeous green eyes, she’d mouth the words at him through cracked, parched lips. Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed? The still beautiful sound of her laughter, not made any less lovely despite its weakness now, when she adapted the lyrics to suit herself, take a load off, daddy. 

And sometimes, when she was keen on showing that superior and tremendous wit, that intelligent mind, the eye she had for seeing within and through him, she’d say that Fanny was the friend they’d always needed, but had never had. Like she knew, she knew there were times, only sometimes, where there was something missing, an imaginary figure that would have been nice or helpful, that was sometimes wished for. A mother, a wife, a partner, a friend, something they might have both needed or liked to have, perhaps, even especially, now, at the end. 

It had been a slow crawl towards death, for a long time, and then, suddenly, a mad dash to the finish line she’d seemed desperate to win. 

At times he’d been angry, angry and resentful and so fucking filled with a rage so deep it terrified him at the unfairness of it all. Sometimes there were parts of Joel that wished it was him lying in that bed, rotting away from the inside out by that invisible poison crawling through his little girls veins, but then the idea of Sarah being the one left behind, the one left alone, seemed an equally terrible fate, and he could not discern which was the worse of the two evils. And so he was left with nothing but this terrible impotence warring inside of him against his equally terrible anger. 

If he could have carried the weight of her illness for her, he would have. If he could have bore the pain and suffering of it, he would have. He would have eaten his own heart, cut off his own limb, forsaken everything he’d ever known, to have taken her suffering from her. He’d told her they’d be brave together, that they’d get out of it together. Eventually though, that mad dash had ended, and after it was all done, she’d been the only one to be brave, and he’d been the only one to get out of it. If that’s what it could even be called. Sarah had died and Joel had been left with nothing more than whatever half life he pretended at now. 

It’d been a year and a half since then, five hundred and sixty seven days since he’d put his only child in the ground. Days of living his life as if a thousand raging gladiators screamed and readied for battle in his mind while he lay limp and motionless in their midst. While he lay limp and motionless as the rest of the world went on around him. He failed all the time now, it seemed. Failed at being a father, a man, a brother, in his waking hours and in his dreams. And sometimes he wondered or worried at what she’d think of him now, if she saw what he’d let himself become. A limp and useless thing in the shadow of the memory of what he’d always been or wanted to be. 

But he remembered love, he remembered loving her, and he thought that if he held onto that, perhaps, he could be something again. Certainly not himself, or who or what he’d been before, but he could find the wherewithal or the strength or the conviction to be something, surely, he could be something again. How could death have the ability to touch such perfection? He could not understand. So, if he could no longer be a father, Sarah's father, then he could find it in himself to at least be alive, couldn’t he? For her, at least, for that memory of loving her. 

He sees the flier at the YMCA one evening, after he’s finished his workout. For months he’d gone from work to bed and bed to work. Gotten soft and lazy and horrible, half dead, but he’d had a dream a few weeks ago, a memory of them at Lady Bird Lake when they’d go and feed the ducks. She’d wanted to burst into the water after them, catch one for herself. Skinny little arms and legs flailing as he caught her around the waist, stopping her from rushing in after the poor things as they paddled madly away from the lovely little terror that she was. The thing he was now was not the man, the father, he had been before, not even a fraction. And he’d felt disgusted and ashamed and frightened with himself at the thought of her ever seeing the creature he’d become. He’d gone for a jog that evening after work. As exhausted and beaten down from the day as he’d been, he’d tied on his sneakers and forced his body to move. It had felt terrible and cathartic and he’d thrown up in his front yard afterwards, pathetic, heaving sobs wracking his body as he emptied the contents of his stomach in the overgrown grass and tears dripped down the tip of his nose, right there for the whole world to witness. But he’d gone out again the next day and the next and the next, and then he’d gone and gotten a membership for the Y, paid the thirty dollars and promised himself he’d make it there a few days every week. Pushed himself week after week to exhaustion and tears, even, sometimes. Wilting into bed at the end of the day like a felled weed, but he couldn’t stop. 

Don’t stop to think, don’t interrupt the scream. 

So he tried to not think, and he tried to keep going. 

They used to walk down there all the time before, to the Y, Joel, Sarah and Tommy. She loved to swim, and the three of them would jump in the pool together and play for hours every summer. They were good memories he knew he needed to keep fresh in his mind, like a muscle that needed to be exercised constantly. He couldn’t, didn’t want to lose them. 

The flier called for volunteers to show up for an event at Sarah’s old elementary school, “Breakfast with Dads” requesting fathers who could show up for those children who didn’t have a father figure in their lives. He’d stood still as a statue, reading the poster over and over again for almost ten minutes there, in the middle of the bustle of the busy gym around him. He could still remember the last time he’d picked her up at school with perfect clarity, the way she’d looked, curls bobbing around her, green eyes shining, shooting out the double doors towards him. She’d always been good in school, smart and lovely and friendly. He’d had to make the difficult decision to pull her out almost a year before she’d died, when she’d started getting too weak from the treatments to continue going in person. He’d not been back to the place since. Didn’t know if he was capable of walking through those halls she used to walk through, where she’d been happy, had friends, been a kid. 

He thinks about it for days afterwards, afraid and unsure and awkward with himself. Worried the children will be able to smell the deceit on him, the fact that he isn’t really a father anymore, lying on the soft purple rug of her perfectly preserved bedroom. A mausoleum to her memory that he meticulously cleans every Sunday to maintain exactly as she left it, staring up at the stick-on stars of the ceiling. He thinks that perhaps it would be good for him, that perhaps he would like the chance to feel like a father again, to remember what it is to have some spunky little kid talk at him for hours on end the way Sarah used to. And if nothing else, he thinks that there might be some child out there without the commodity of a father, the way he is without the blessing of his daughter, who would appreciate the fact that he’d shown up. Perhaps, he can make some kid not feel as alone as he always feels now. 

The morning of the breakfast dawns bright and warm, but with the faint scent of impending rain in the ether. She’d died on the same kind of sunny, tremulous day, and Joel’s hands shake as he walks up the steps of the elementary school. Flashes of the memory of her running out of these same double doors, skipping down the steps, curls flopping and gap toothed smile more luminous and sillier than any sight he’d ever beheld before. His heart beats like a hummingbird in his chest, hands clammy and shaking and ridiculous. He cries all the time now, at any and everything and it embarrasses him but is also so strangely freeing. He’d watched that ridiculous, but not really, movie Uptown Girls last night and had wept like a child at the end of it, all throughout it if he’s being honest. Huge mistake for the night before he was supposed to show face bright and early and have some kid inspecting him. Tommy’d shown up this morning with coffee and burritos and told him his face looked swollen, fucking asshole, and he’s once again ridiculous and embarrassed and awkward and shaking with nerves as he takes a few deep, calming breaths, before stepping into the Sarah’s old cafeteria. 

The large room is loud and chaotic, the bright sound of children’s voices and laughter and commotion, and people, there are a lot of fucking people. Two different lines of men, traversing the entire wide room, starting at a long table on one end and snaking through the lunch tables. It seems he wasn’t the only one who’d seen the posters, who had felt the need to come here today. He’s inspecting the lines, deciding which one seems to be moving faster when he hears his name, soft and breathy and incredulous, voice like a fucking angel: “Joel?”

He turns and there you are. “Joel Miller?” You almost stumble towards him, hand almost outstretched, eyes almost swimming. The last time he’d seen you was the last time he’d picked Sarah up here, and there’d been real tears in your eyes that time as you got to your knees, and his daughter buried her face in your neck, your soft hair, as she cried and told you how much she’d miss you, how much she didn’t want to go. You’d been her last teacher before she’d had to leave school – she’d never gotten to finish the year with you, and it had been a painful and difficult parting for the both of you. One he’d not appreciated fully in the moment, but now, looking at your shocked face, like you’ve seen a ghost, the memory rears its head in his mind, the sound of your voice trying to soothe her, trying to remain strong, stifle the sound of your own tears. You’d gone to the hospital once, near the end, the nurses had told him, in the quick hour he allotted himself to go home and shower every day, to say goodbye to her. Had sat at her bedside and laughed with her, brought her a card and a bright bouquet of yellow daisies in a pretty, blown glass vase from her entire class. It had been near the end of the school year, what would have been the end of Sarah’s second grade year, and he’d been glad, after the nurse had gushed about the pretty young woman who’d come in, made Sarah laugh and smile, perked her up for even a few brief moments, he’d been so fucking glad he’d missed you. He hoped he’d never have to see you again, could avoid the memory of his daughter in your care, the way the two of you looked at each other, like you shared a secret, a friendship, a connection, that of pupil and teacher, but also just two girls, something special and sacred. He envied it and resented it and was glad he’d missed you and grateful he’d not had to see you, but he was also grateful for the fact of you, that you’d been able to give her something she’d needed and he could not provide. 

He whispers your name, and you finally reach him, hand fully outstretched now, not an almost anything anymore, and your small, delicate fingers grasp at his thick forearm. The soft touch burns. 

He places his big hand over yours, completely engulfing you, and when he whispers your name back he feels a tremble in your limb. “Joel, I’m so glad to see you,” said with so much sincerity he feels the backs of his eyes pinch. He did not think the hardest part of this day would be seeing you again, a person who’d known and cared for his daughter so deeply. 

“I– I’m glad to be here,” he chokes, coughs, tries to take a steadying breath. “I saw the posters– just thought… I just thought it’d be nice for me to come around.”

“Yes,” you squeeze his arm gently, “Yes, of course. Welcome, please, I’m really so glad to see you here. There are so many great kids here today–” you cut yourself off, and your face does a funny sort of uncertain thing, you shake your head, try and give him a small smile. A deep breath, and then: “There are so many kids here that need someone. It’s a real good thing you came.”

“Yeah, well… I just wanted to– to feel– to remember–” he shakes his head too, unable to continue, but he sees that you understand. You slide that small hand into his, wrapping around two of his thick fingers and pull him around and further into the room. Nodding your head and smiling back at him like you’ve got the best sort of secret you’re about to let him in on. “Of course. Come on, I’ll show you to your seat. I know just the person for you.”

-

“Joel, this is my niece–”

“Who the fuck is this guy?” All the sass in the world and a scarred eyebrow to boot. 

“Ellie,” you say nice and slow, voice soothing as if trying to calm a wild banshee on the verge of revolt, it makes him smile a small smile, “We’re gonna be nice. You promised this morning.”

“Ugh, fine,” she drops her head back on her neck, and he can see the whites of her eyes flash as she rolls them as far back as they can surely go. “Stick me with the dinosaur, what do I care?” Christ, he mutters under his breath, trying to hide his scoff of a laugh with a rough cough. He turns his head to rub his chin against the hill of his shoulder, running a hand over his whiskered face. 

“Ellie– Mom said you can’t go to the sleepover tonight if you aren’t nice. Right?” You try and reason with her. 

“Fine. Whatever – nice.” And she flashes a big old, saccharine grin, wagging her eyebrows at you. 

“Okay,” you turn back to him, bringing your hands together in a soft clap beneath your chin and giving him a small and painfully sweet little smile – worried and probably a little afraid for him. He shakes his head, “It’s alright, we’ll be okay,” he says low, distracted by the sight of your small hands, fine and delicate looking, and the dainty gold necklace that sits at the hollow of your throat, a little golden pendant of your initial. 

You nod your head slowly, turn back to give the kid, Ellie, one more stern look, and then turn to walk away, leaving him to face her alone, and no, he most definitely does not glance at your ass as you walk away from him.

He turns back to look at the kid, and she rolls her eyes again, turning back to flip open the book she’s got infront of her on the lunch table, a one Will Livingston’s No Pun Intended: Volume Too. 

He snorts a little, sighs and settles into the cramped bench made for a child, thick thighs barely squeezing into the space between the table’s edge and the seat, knees bumping the underside. “Well aren’t you a pleasant one.”

“Yeah, a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. What’s your problem?”

“Jesus, kid. How old are you?”

“Thirteen. How old are you?”

“Forty eight.”

“Old.”

“Yeah.”

“So, why'd you get stuck with the leftovers? Where's your kid?”

He clears his throat, “Uh well, she– she’s not here anymore. Or I mean– she doesn’t go to school here anymore. She died. A while ago.”

“Oh, shit.” She’s quiet for a beat, looking down at the open page of the book, It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope. It’ll still be stationary. “That sucks, man. I'm sorry.”

He supposes the correct response is: “Thank you,” he nods his head awkwardly, still unaccustomed to going through the motions of having to tell people and accept condolences. He doesn’t think it’ll ever be something he gets used to. 

“I think…” she tilts her head side to side, letting the thought slide between her ears, flips to the next page, I walked into my sister’s room and tripped on a bra. It was a booby trap. “That my dad is dead, or at least a dead beat or something,” she snickers. “Don’t know. My mom never talks about him.”

Dead or a dead beat, he mutters, shaking his head, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s hard– being a parent, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah… hardest thing in the world–”

“Is it like – like weird… to not be one anymore?”

He feels his stomach drop out from under him, coughs roughly, “Dunno… I guess– I guess in ways I still feel like a parent. Think I’ll always feel like that. But in other ways, yes, it’s… weird.”

“Yeah… I guess that makes sense. You don’t forget how stuff feels, right?”

“Yeah, you don’t forget how stuff feels.”

“Do you like space?” she asks suddenly, very seriously, knocking her head to the side, looking up at him with big, baleful, hazel eyes. His heart twists in his chest.

“Sure, yeah. Space is alright.”

And then another seeming one eighty: “If you could do anything you wanted, where would you go? What would you do?”

“Don’t know, never really thought about it. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land, a ranch.”

“Cool. What kind?”

He shakes his head, Jesus, I don’t know… “Sheep. I would raise sheep.” She nods, doubtful, unimpressed look on her face, and he frowns at the look, “They’re quiet, do what they’re told.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. So, just you and a bunch of sheep. Romantic,” she says sarcastically. 

“What about you? What would you do?”

She points a single finger up towards the ceiling, ah, space… “Probably because I’ve always been here, never left Austin, single mom and all, ya know– I’ve read everything I could in the school library… Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?”

He could understand her on this. He felt, too often, like he was still right where she’d left him. “Sally Ride,” he says, of course.

“Sally fuckin’ Ride!” She slaps her hands down on the table, “Best astronaut name ever,” Shakes her head, whistling through her teeth appreciatively. 

He nods his head, yeah, figures. “So, your aunt…” and he feels a hot flush spread over the tops of his cheekbones, real smooth, Joel. At least he’d waited this long. 

“She’s my mom’s sister. She’s great. The three of us live together – kind of like my second mom, I guess. Or like they take turns being mom and dad. We’ve always been together.”

“That’s great, kid. She’s great. She– she was my daughter’s teacher, I’ve known her for a while now.”

“Yeah, she really is. I punched this girl last year,” she says way too excitedly, “Bethany,” rolls her eyes, “For being a huge dick, man, like seriously, she was. And she got me out of it. Backed me up with the principal, Mr. Kwong. No one else would’ve stuck up for me that way.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Seems like her style–”

“Protective,” she snickers.

“Yeah–” 

“And good. Her and my mom, they’re a unit, the three of us. Don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone take care of each other the way they do. Sometimes…” she looks away a little shyly, “I misbehave,” she says slowly, “Like the fighting. For no reason, I guess. And I know it worries them. But I’m trying to be better, not fight as much. My friend Riley, she’s a good influence. She stops me when I get too riled up.”

“I reckon it’s a lot easier said than done, but the fact that you’re trying to be good is what counts, is what I’d say. I’m sure being thirteen is difficult,” he says a little sarcastically, but giving her the approximation of a small, warm smile.

“Fuck you, man,” she laughs, “It’s difficult as shit.” It hits him then, suddenly, that the kid just needs someone to talk to, someone other than perhaps her mother or her aunt who she knows love and worry for her so much. A third, impartial party. Joel had come here today and been able to be that for her, and as inconsequential as it may seem, after all he’s lived through, it’s everything to him. 

The teachers and school administrators begin the process of handing out the breakfast: pancakes and bacon and sausage and fruit, and Ellie tells him about her book, full of terrible puns he pretends to frown at but also can’t really help but laugh at with her, and about a comic she loves Savage Starlight. Endure and survive, she tells him, is the motto, and he can’t help but think the idea is far reaching and significant in its truth. They sit and talk and laugh together, and it’s easy, this surly kid who pretends at being angry, hiding her charm with a potty mouth and a scowl, but who’s really nothing but sweet. It makes his chest ache and his throat go tight. So much so, that after a while he needs to excuse himself. He tells her he’s going to the restroom and runs off like a coward, the devil and his memories on his heels to take a few deep breaths, a moment alone to collect himself. 

He rushes out of the cafeteria, bursting through the double doors and out into the hallway, scurrying to find a lone corner to hide himself and his shame and grief away in. He makes it to a shadowed alcove at the mouth of an empty hallway of classrooms and presses his hands to the concrete blocks of the wall, painted a soft blue color. He stares at the pockets in the aggregate and tries to take deep breaths, feels the air pass through his lungs, inflate his belly, and then back out, transformed into the world as something else. Sometimes he wishes he had the ability to transform his grief into something else – a non-memory, perhaps. Sometimes he wishes he could forget the whole thing, a terrible, selfish, disgusting thought. But pain makes terrible creatures out of us sometimes, and Joel has existed in a pool of such pain these past five hundred and sixty seven days that sometimes it’s difficult to recognize himself anymore, his desires, his goals, if he even has those anymore. Like he’d said to the kid, it’s a lot easier said than done, but the fact that you’re trying to be good is what counts, and he was trying so very hard to be good, better. 

“Joel?” That soft voice again, a shiver claws its way down his spine, and he shakes his head at the wall, letting his hot, pinched eyes fall closed. 

He coughs, trying to clear his throat, “M’fine. Just needed a second–” Coughs again. And then he feels that small hand from before, at the small of his back. You rest there, gifting him that brief, comforting touch, and he reaches behind himself to clasp you around the wrist, keep you there with him, silent for a moment while he tries and fails to collect himself. His fingers wrap entirely around your wrist and something different and hot and alive flutters deep in his belly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it. I’m just– It’s overwhelming being here. I’m sorry. I’m okay,” he rambles. 

“It’s okay, Joel. Just take your time.” Your voice is too soft and gentle for a hard and broken thing like him. 

“She’s a good kid,” he tries and fails to keep his voice steady, comes out all hiccupped and cracked instead, and he feels you step closer, not touching him anywhere else, but he can feel the heat of you against his back. 

“She is,” you whisper.

“S’got a fuckin’ mouth on her.”

“Yeah…” You try and laugh, fail.

He cracks and splinters: “I didn’t think it would be like this coming back here… seeing you,” voice breaking, “She was sick for so long, and I knew she didn’t want to leave me. I knew she was so fucking tired, but she kept holding on just for me. And I told her it was okay, I told her to go and that I’d find her again one day, and now I don't know who I am or what I’ve become, and all I can think about every single day is that if she saw me now I worry she wouldn't recognize me anymore.”

“You’re trying, Joel. That's all that matters. I know you are. I can see it now even just here today, you being here–”

“I wish I could see her smile again, just once–” he cuts you off, not really listening. His ears filled with static noise, chest heaving. Your other hand comes to his flank, and it’s too much: this place, your touch, the kid, all of it, all of his memories and all of his grief, and he shouldn’t have come here today. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and for a second, right before he pushes you away, he squeezes your wrist tightly, as tight as he can without really hurting you, lets the heat of your skin burn him, and then lets go of you, harshly shaking you off. 

“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have come here today, I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”

“Joel–”

“Tell Ellie I’m sorry, but I have to go.” And like a fucking coward, like a man his daughter’d be ashamed of, he leaves, runs away from you and the memory of her and another child who needs something he is not equipped to give. 

He listens to the sound of your voice calling after him, and he is nothing but sorry and nothing but too much of a man he wishes he’d never been made into. 

-

You’re on your second margarita when he walks in. Trailing his brother, serious, sullen look on his handsome face. When you’d seen him this morning, after all that time, after the last time which had been so painful and so sad and so full of regret for the circumstance of it, you’d felt like your heart was about to burst through your chest. You thought about him so often, about her, more often, probably, than was warranted or healthy, but the experience of having a child such as that in your care, such a special little person, and having to witness the extinguishing of such a bright flame… Well, calling it a tragedy was entirely inadequate in the face of all it truly was. 

Anna was kind of dating the bartender that worked here, and with Ellie away at a slumber party tonight, the two of you’d decided to have a girl’s night out that you were almost certain was going to turn into a slumber party for Anna with her bartender, Ben, as well. 

You eye the two brothers as they find their spot at the far end of the bar, watch as Tommy, you remember she used to talk about him all the time, flags down Ben to order them two beers, appreciating the way Joel pulls on the glass bottle with that soft, frowning mouth of his. 

He’s so sad. There’s no other word for it. Sad and hurt and made into a sort of tragedy of a man that you wish desperately, and even though it’s not your place, that you could do something to help. The sound of him choking back tears this morning, the sight of him laughing with Ellie, she’d warmed to him immediately which was a miracle all on its own, and he is, you think, a man with so much tenderness to give that has nowhere to go now. And it is nothing but the gravest and saddest sort of tragedy. 

“Hi, Joel.” Eventually, you muster up enough courage, after one more margarita, to approach him. You think that, perhaps, he’ll be annoyed to see you again, another reminder of his past and the difficulty of the morning, but you need to just talk to him one more time. To thank him again for being so brave, to reassure him that he’d done good. Tommy’d abandoned him to brave the waters of the bar a while ago, and he turns in his stool at the sound of your voice to peer over his shoulder. You love his beard, thick and lush and so soft looking, his thick, dark curls, slightly threaded with silver at the temples, and his ridiculously broad back. He’s wearing a dark green button down that brings out the colors in his eyes, tight around the swell of his thick biceps. He’s gorgeous and so fucking hot, and he makes you feel silly with nerves and fizzy bubbles deep in your belly. 

“Hey–” he clears his throat, says your name softly, with a hint of apology. “Hey.”

“I saw you come in earlier, and I– I just wanted to come over and say hi and thank you again for this morning. It was a real nice thing of you to come today.” You try and swallow the shyness and nerves in your voice, but you’re pretty sure you fail spectacularly, can just picture Anna’s mocking giggles as she watches you twist your fingers and fidget in front of the man. 

“You already thanked me,” he says gruffly, “And besides there’s nothing really to thank me for.”

“I know, but again, or anyways,” you stutter, “And there is.” There’s absolutely no reason for these nerves, you know this man, have known him for years, “It was a good thing of you to do. Ellie really liked you–”

“You gave her my apologies, right?” He cuts you off, a thing akin to desperation and worry coloring his tone. 

“I did, don’t worry. She understood.” He looks like he wants to ask what excuse you gave her but forces himself into silence, looking down at his hands in his lap sullenly. “I don’t know… I just wanted to say thank you again.”

“Alright. And I’m sorry too, about earlier – after. I was an ass.”

“You weren’t. I shouldn’t have gone after you, should’ve given you your privacy. I’m sorry. I was nosey.”

He shakes his head, looks up at you with those hazel eyes, “No, I wanted you to come after me.” His voice is rough, like it costs him something to admit this truth to you, “Thank you.”

You have to look away, glancing back at Anna who gives you a wide, cheesy grin and a thumbs up, followed by a much more inappropriate hand gesture. You roll your eyes at her, a hot flush burning your cheeks. “That’s your brother, right? Tommy?” You turn back to him. 

“Yeah, it is… You wanna sit?” He gestures to Tommy’s empty stool. 

“She used to talk about him all the time.” You take the offered seat, nervous for a second that he’ll resent you bringing her up, react badly, but he gives a soft laugh, looking after his brother. “Yeah…” he says slowly, “They were real close.”

“That’s really nice,” you say sincerely. You catch Ben’s eye, and he nods his head at you, turning to get the two of you another round. “You two having a boys night out?”

He gives a short laugh, bringing his beer to his mouth again, pressing the lip of the bottle to his smile, “Guess he was just trying to do the same thing you are right now, distract me, make sure I’m alright or somethin’,” a quick shake of his head, and then takes another drag, and you watch the thick muscles of his neck work as he swallows. You have to look away from the sight, cross your knees together tightly, pulling down the hem of your wrap dress to keep it from riding too high. 

Ben comes around at that moment to place two shots in front of the two of you. “Here you go, baby girl,” a wink and that smarmy little smirk that makes Anna lose her head, for some inexplicable reason, “Tequila for you and your friend here.”

“Baby girl?” Joel eyes you, as you push the shot towards him. 

You roll your eyes, “Ignore him.” He takes the shot from you, fingers brushing yours briefly and you swear you feel a slight jerk move through him. You want him to want you so badly, you think suddenly. 

“Shall we?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, and he gives you a soft laugh. 

“Seems I don’t got much of a choice,” before clinking his glass against yours, touching the base of it to the bar’s surface, and then shooting it back, not even an insinuation of a grimace as he swallows the strong alcohol, while your face puckers ridiculously. 

Gross. You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking on the lime Ben had left also. “He sweet on you or somethin’?” 

“No, not at all.”

“Huh, not so sure about that,” he eyes your sister’s boytoy almost sourly, and you get brave or reckless or something, all of a sudden, when you press right up to his ear, your breasts against his arm, emboldened by the liquor or the soft hazel of his eys, or the breadth of his shoulders when you whisper right into the peach fuzz covered shell of his ear, “He’s fucking my sister. Not me.”

He freezes, a soft, masculine sound rumbling deep in his chest before he clears his throat. He sets the glass down, and then slowly turns to face you, gripping your knee briefly as he spins on the barstool to bring your legs between the space of his spread thighs. He’s so thick everywhere. 

“Is that so?” The place on your legs where he’d gripped you burns and throbs and the other, softer place between your thighs drips and aches. You nod your head at him, temple resting in your palm propped on the edge of the bar. Ben walks by again, snagging your attention from Joel’s molten gaze, “Gimme permission to come over tonight?” he says as he passes. 

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh after him, and you swear you feel the whisper of Joel’s touch on the curve of your bare knee again. When you turn to look back at him he’s staring down at you, a flush sitting high on his cheekbones. 

There’s something slightly bold or desperate or sad stirring inside of you, and you need to hear the sound of his voice. You wish you could make things better for him. You wish that perpetual look of grief didn’t sit so deeply embedded in his gaze all the time now. 

“You know that feeling of knowing someone, but not knowing them?” He asks you suddenly. “You and I, we’ve known each other for years. You were Sarah’s teacher, and she talked about you all the time – her last teacher – and I felt like I knew you, even though I didn’t really, not in a way that mattered, not in the way I would have liked, if I’m bein’ honest, but we knew each other peripherally. And I wanted you, all that time ago,” he laughs a boyishly shy little huff of laughter interrupting the rush of his confessed words, the crests of his cheeks flushing bright, “In that way you want someone you don't know but see all the time and want to know better. And now, it’s like… like we’re meeting again for the first time, but in a different way, in a way we’ve never met before, and yet you know so much about me already. You knew my daughter, spent time with her, you cared about her – it’s… I don’t really know what it is I’m trying to say, to be honest. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, another unsurely shy laugh, and you reach out to set your hand softly on his knee, rubbing the thick, muscular ball of it. It’s okay, you nod and shake your head at him at the same time. Confused also, with what you’re trying to convey, but knowing you want him to continue anyway. “You knew me before in a different way, and I’m not that man anymore. And I don’t know who I am now, or I’m beginning to relearn, but I’m not there just yet,” He trails off, and then softly: “Have you ever not known yourself?”

You tilt your chin slowly, watching the slow rove of the leftover tequila in the glass as you roll the base of it along the grain of the bar. “I’m… I’m not sure. Would it be very naive or arrogant or shallow to say, no? That I’ve always known myself, that even when I was lost or afraid, I was still certain of who I was, or at the very least, who I wanted to be? Like… like sometimes when you’re uncertain of the next step, or– or of what it is that you want to do next, but you still know the direction, maybe? Or what ending you’d like?” You give a brief huff of laughter, not really meaning to laugh, but expelling the air anyway, glancing down at where you’re still gripping his knee. He lays his own large paw over your much finer hand, calluses on his palm that you can feel on the back of your knuckles. “I think now we’re both, maybe, not making sense. But I think that sometimes happiness is only the peripheral thought, the peripheral ending, like obviously we all always want to end up happy. I was always open to the journey, open to the different avenues my life could take, but all I’ve ever wanted was for me and Anna, and then later, Ellie, to be okay, to be happy. Nothing else matters after that. The way I get there, the way I’d make it happen never mattered. Only that, in the end, we’re okay.”

“No… I know exactly what you mean.” His brow caves in on itself, “I know exactly what you mean because I failed at that. That was all I ever wanted too, and look at what I ended up with. She’s gone, I failed her.”

“But you didn’t, Joel,” you say with all the fervor you can pull from your heart, all the certainty you absolutely know that he’s wrong with. You bring your other hand to his other knee, leaning forward to make absolutely sure he’s understanding. “You can’t honestly say that. You’re right, I did know her, and that little girl was an exceedingly happy child. If anything, you were nothing but a triumph, and you need to hold on to that, and think of it every single day for the rest of your life. You were triumphant in that girl. Never forget it.  There is not even a shadow of failure in the memory of that child and the life she led.” And this does not seem like the appropriate environment to be having such a conversation, but you push on. His hand tightens over yours almost painfully, his blunt rough nails digging into your soft skin. “When she died – was she scared? Or peaceful?”

“She was so fucking brave,” he chokes. “She was so fucking brave. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in that heart. I’d swallowed all of it. I’d swallowed all the fear either of us could ever carry. She’s the one that held me while I fell to pieces. While I lied through my fucking teeth and told her it would be okay, that I’d be okay, that she could rest, she could go. And held me and tried to soothe me and told me she’d see me again one day, but not too soon. Eight years old, dying and comforting her father, cracking jokes. She was so fucking brave, and I’d promised her that we’d both be – that we’d both have courage and both get out of it, and in the end, I ended up being nothing but a goddamn liar.” And there are tears in his eyes, and maybe you shouldn’t and maybe you’re overstepping and maybe it’s the alcohol, but you lean forward in your barstool, that boldness and that desperation and that sadness pushing you along so that your knees are sliding further between his spread thighs to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him tightly to yourself, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, big hand coming up to cup the back of your head. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, even though you know the words are redundant. Even though he’s probably heard them an antagonizing amount of times. You are so sorry, and you have to tell him that you wish you could help him in some other way, that he’d not have to bear this alone, that he’d never have had to live it at all. I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m sorry that you lost your daughter, and I’m sorry you’re alone now, and I’m sorry we didn’t know each other better before, but maybe we can know each other now. I’d like to know you now more than anything else.

You feel the rattle of his wide back as he takes in a shaky breath, and you slide your hand soothingly up the broad expanse to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he laughs wetly into the warm space beneath your jaw, rolling his forehead against your shoulder, “I’m killing the mood,” and you feel the wet press of lips to the soft spot beneath your ear, right at the vulnerable hollow. Your heart stutters, and you shiver a syrupy sweet little jitter down the line of your vertebrae in the clutch of his arms, letting your head fall to the side to open yourself further to him, you smell good, whispered into your skin, but the two of you are sitting at the center of the crowded bar, industriously dedicated patrons hooting and hollering around you, and you can feel Anna’s nosey gaze zeroed into the back of your head so you pull away, letting your hand on the back of his head drag around along the edge of his jaw, fingernails pulling through the soft whiskers of his beard so that you can feel the snick, snick, snick of each bristle beneath your nail. 

“Let’s go outside,” you whisper, made only of boldness and desperation and want now. Wetness pooling at the center of you. 

He pulls back, and his hand slides to grip your jaw in his wide, rough hand. The architecture of you feels inconsequential and without strength or steel in his grasp. “For what?” Voice serious but also knowing, also provoking. 

“I wanna kiss you.” Might as well be honest now that you’ve got his hands on you.

“I think that if we go out there, I’m gonna do more than just kiss you. You prepared for that?”

“Yes, let’s go,” and you’re already pulling him out of his barstool before the words are even fully out. His hand goes to your elbow to steady you as your feet meet the ground, and you can’t help but give him a small laugh. “Are you okay?” Just making sure.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sweetheart. Are you?” His gaze is so warm. 

“Yes.” And you can’t help but smile widely up at him. He gives you a huff of laugh through a half crooked smile that looks a little bit like the sliver of the moon when it’s nothing but a silver crescent in the sky, hand wrapping entirely around your bicep to tug you closer. You feel a little bit out of control when you slide your hand over his belly, and his eyes go immediately dark and molten, rubbing slowly up his chest. He makes a deep, rough sound, low in his throat. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He pulls you along behind him, and as you’re making your way together out the door, you hear the sound of Anna whooping and whistling loudly behind you right before the bar door slams shut. 

He tugs you along behind him, and then passes you gently in his hands to walk in front of him as he weaves through the crowded parking lot, his wide chest, smoldering hot through his clothes, pressed up against your back, big hands wrapped around the soft of your hips. You feel him nosing into the curtain of your hair, smelling you and humming appreciatively, and you realize that he’s steering you towards the back of the parking lot, his familiar truck tucked into the far dark corner, and you twist, suddenly, in his arms, walking backwards and reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands go to the small of your back, bunching your dress in his hands tightly so that you feel the humid night air against the uppermost backs of your thighs. The look in his eyes is so dark, so wanting, and he presses you tight against his chest, your breasts squished up against the hard planes of him. He’s not even looking where he’s going, and your feet are barely touching the ground anymore as you tiptoe backwards, guided by his embrace. One of his hands comes up to grip the curve of your jaw, and then you feel the side of the truck against your back. He hoists you higher up towards his mouth, “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, and before you can even think about saying yes, yes, please, finally, he’s swallowing your breath in his mouth, eyes still slightly open to watch you as he does it, pushing his tongue into the wet gleam of you to taste everything you so desperately want to offer him. He nips at your full bottom lip, then laps at it soothingly, and you moan for him, head falling back on your neck to open further for him, cradled now in the palm of his hand. Your hands smooth down the sides of his neck and then curl to scrape your nails down his stomach, and he groans into you, one thick thigh shoving between your knees. One of his palms slides over your hip to grip the curve of your ass, the other coming up, gentle yet unyielding, to circle your throat and tip your chin up to him as he pulls back to look down at you. The hand on your ass tips your pelvis into his and pulls your core along the broad expanse of his thigh so that your pussy slowly rides the hard muscle, once, twice. “Joel–” you gasp. 

“Back seat,” he orders, tugging the truck door open and hoisting you inside. Are you really about to let this man fuck you in the back seat of his truck in a crowded parking lot? Yes, yes, you are. He follows in after you, and then slams the door shut behind him, encasing the both of you in this quiet, paused moment before he’s pulling you forward to straddle his lap, spreading his legs wide to widen your own stance perched atop him. You listen to the sound of your panting breaths as he runs his hands over your curves, squeezing and kneading as he goes, and you plant your palms on his strong chest, smoothing them down over his belly, reaching the line of his belt to tuck them inside, he growls low, leans forward to lick at your throat and you feel the tug of his fingers at the tie of your wrap dress, then the pull of the fabric as he bares you for his eyes. You pop the first few buttons of his shirt as his wet mouth moves down the thrumming line of your neck, over the wing of your clavicle to the tops of your breasts where he pulls back to take you in. You’re wearing a soft pink lace bra and a matching thong, and as his eyes move down the length of you, the fire already smoldering within seems to ricochet up to a burning inferno. There is something about the look in his eyes, compared to before, compared to the usual look, that is even more thrilling than just the fact of him gazing upon your naked body. He’s always so serious, melancholy and sad and straightforward, in a way. But taking him in like this, the way he’s looking at you now like he wants nothing more than to devour you, to push inside of you, it makes it all the headier. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, look at you,” he murmurs, smoothes his hand over your breasts, thumb catching and flicking at your nipple, down the soft swell of your belly, stopping at the little bow at the front of your thong. He pushes the sleeve of your dress over one shoulder and tugs you forwards, you feel him lift the back of your dress over the curve of your bottom, his hand following the path of bared skin, taking in the tiny scap of lace disappearing between your asscheeks, and he makes a breathy, desperate sound, “Where the fuck are the rest of your panties, little girl?” He pinches the lush of your ass, smoothes his hand down and around to cup you between your legs, and you’re sure he can feel the soaking wet there because you listen to the sound of his gasp, and then he’s pressing there, seeking out your clit and rolling gentle circles to the swollen, throbbing nub. You run your hands up his chest into his hair, gripping there, pressing your nose into the thick curls to take in the scent of him and then running them down the heavy swell of his biceps. He’s so masculine, hard in all the places you’re soft, and wet, for him. His other hand grips your hip to pull you closer, rolling you onto the thick line of his erection, and oh God, he’s big. You can tell just like this, thick and long. Your hand moves to his belt buckle, pulling at the leather and the zipper of his jeans, and then you’re slipping your fingers beneath his boxers and wrapping around the thick heft of him. “Jesus, fuck–” he gasps. 

You fist him tightly, squeezing at the thick root of his cock and sliding up to the fat head to twist there gently. His fingers move beneath the line of your panties, finally making contact with your bare skin. 

“Fucking wet little cunt. Shit, you’re soaked for me, baby.” All you can do is moan as you pull him out of his jeans. He’s heavy in your palm and your mouth waters as you take in the sight of his big cock. Thick and long, wide, drooling head an angry red verging on purple. He hooks the gusset of your panties to the side and slides the underside of the shaft through your swollen lips, pressing the fat tip to your clit, and then sliding along your slit to catch softly at your opening. “Joel, please–” you moan. The head of his cock catches again and again, and you’re so wet, coating his thick length in your slick. He reaches to pull both cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts to his gaze and when his mouth latches onto one peaked nipple, sucking sharply, his other hand wrapping around the heavy weight of your other breast you cry out, fingernails digging into his thick shoulders. You use your grip on his shoulders to drag yourself along the length of his shaft while he sucks and nips at your breasts, pulling back to gently slap the full side of one, sending a jerking shiver through you while he watches how it jiggles and sways for him. “Shit, you’re too fuckin’ pretty,” he groans, and you’re about to come just from this, just the feeling of his thick cock sliding through the lips of your sex, and you tell him so, wet mouth presses to the arch of his ear, you tell him you’re about to come, but he changes the angle, presses his hips up and then the tip of his cock is breaching the dripping mouth of your cunt, stretching you wide to take him and you both pant and gasp, burying your face in his neck as one wide hand presses at the base of your spine, forcing you to take more of that impossible length. You feel the pinch and snap of your thong around your hips as he rips the scrap of lace off of you, and you think you must shake your head or something, make some soft sound because he tuts his tongue in a gentle reprimand, “All of it, baby. The whole thing.” He squeezes your breast, strums at your nipple, presses a feather light kiss to the hinge of your jaw, and you feel your cunt flutter around him, sucking him deeper so that he can wedge that thick cock further inside of you. “Yeah… Fuck, yeah. Just like that, good girl. You asked for this, sweet girl.” You hitch and sob into his neck, clawing at his shoulders as he finally forces you down all the way onto him, buried balls deep in your weeping, fluttering pussy. “Now you’ve gotta take the whole thing, no cryin’” He sounds like he’s spitting the words through clenched teeth, struggling to get them out despite the demand of them. “You’re doing so good,” he whispers, “Taking my big cock in this tiny little cunt.” He kisses your ear, your throat, pulls back to suck on your nipples, all while his hands on your ass start to rock you on his length, working you loose and wet and pliant. 

“Fuck– fuck, Joel–” 

“I know, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? But you can take it– deep breath, you can take it.” He fucks up into you, holding your hips steady as he feeds you his cock over and over again, and you drip down onto his balls and the leather seat beneath. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Tell me–”

“It’s so– it’s so good. Wanted it so bad–” you slur, wet cheek pressed to his shoulder, you mouth at his neck, little teeth digging into the thick line of muscle so that he’s growling, thrusting up quick and a little painful into your cunt, tip punching right at your cervix. 

“Lemme see you– I’ve gotta see you,” he says suddenly and presses you back. You reach back to plant your hands on his spread knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. His gaze is almost manic, licking over your skin, your bouncing tits as he fucks up into you, the swell of your tummy glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, down finally to the place where he’s fucking in and out of your swollen, blushed cunt, stretched obscenely around the base of him. “You’re so goddamned lucky we’re in a car right now,” he growls. He jerks you back into him, both hands squeezing your ass in each palm and rolling you hard and fast onto his impaling cock, your swollen clit presses into his pelvis on every thrust in, and you feel your cunt pull tight and then go loose as you start to come around him. Yes, yes, yes, fuck, yes – just like that. His cock kissing your g-spot with every press inside. You sob into his neck, pull at his hair, scratch at his shoulders and neck as you gush around him. 

He surges up then, orgasm not entirely abated, and flips you over onto your back, laying you down on the truck’s bench. He pulls his dripping cock out of your still grasping clutch to kneel down on the floorboard, hulking form entirely too large to fit in the tight space, and drags the broad, flat of his tongue through your drenched sex, tasting the echoes and throbs of your climax, sucking your clit and your come into his mouth while you sob up into the roof of his truck. He pushes your knees up to your chest, displaying you for himself entirely and devours you. “Fuck, there ain’t enough room in this fuckin’ truck to eat your cunt the way I need to,” his accent suddenly heavier, a sharper twang cutting off the end of his words, lost to the taste of you and the feel of you and the scent of you. You lean up onto your elbows, sweaty face burning bright hot with shyness as you take in the sight of his mouth wrapped around your clit, lapping at your leaking sex. He looks up at you, reaches up to wrap one hand around your breast, one of your legs is hanging down the length of his back over his shoulder, the other hooked at the bend of his elbow to keep you open and spread wide for him, and the two of you hold gazes for a moment. His eyes flash with something… different to desire or lust, something more in tune with whatever it is that’s happening here between the two of you right now, something more than just a quick fuck. You whisper his name, and his eyes flash again, predatory and desperate, and he’s pushing up, the wet sound of his mouth unlatching from your pussy and crawling back up onto the seat bench, pressing his slick wet mouth to yours and licking into you, sloppy. “Taste–” he orders, he pulls back, fists the root of his cock and feeds it back into your gaping cunt, “That’s what it tastes like when you come for me.” His voice is a growl, something like a commandment or a promise, something else that hums beneath the mere words, something that says this is happening again, I need this to happen again, I’ve wanted this longer than I can say. He fucks into the very end of you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, let him maneuver and manhandle you to his liking so that both of your ankles lay limply over his shoulders, pressed entirely in half for him to pound into you. 

“Open your fucking eyes,” he pants. “Look at me,” he begs. You do, and you watch a bead of sweat roll slowly down his temple, over the curve of his jaw to the point of his chin, and then drip and splash down onto the swell of your breast, seep into your skin. 

He’s so deep like this, right at the heart of you, and it hurts and it feels good and you can’t help but think about the next time already, hope that this can happen again. “Yes, Joel,” you gasp, “Please, don’t stop.”

“Yeah?” He grits, lifting one hand to hold on to the edge of the window above your head, the other gripping at your ass to pull you onto him harder. “Yeah, just like that– Taking me so well, baby. Taking the whole thing like such a good girl.” He’s so big, maybe too big, and he pounds into your cunt, forces you to take the entire thing, thick thighs bracketing your frame, cock punching at your womb over and over again. You feel cock drunk, Joel drunk, and you turn your face to press into the back of the seat crying, telling him you’re about to come again. 

“God, yes, yes, you’re such a good girl. Come on my cock again, one more time for me.” His thrusts speed up, harsher, stronger and he’s saying your name while you sob out his, while you leak around him. “Hey,” he grips your jaw, gives your head a little shake, “Hey, baby– you gotta tell me where. Where can I come? Inside? Can I come inside?” It sounds, a little bit, like he’s beginning. 

You nod your head, yes, gaze delirious, unfocused, the swell of his anchoring bicep is so thick and distracting, and you start to milk his thrusting cock inside of you, muscles squeezing tight, fluttering loose – please, please, please, come inside of me, please, I want it so bad. He groans, grits a curse, your name, something that sounds like gratitude, and then he’s filling you, thick cock kicking and jerking and spitting his come right at the mouth of your womb, inciting your own orgasm to throb again, again, harder, deeper. 

-

He drops his head to the damp crook of your shoulder, takes in the heady scent of your sweat and sex, licks a path up the side of your throat. He’s careful not to ask you to bear the full, heavy weight of him, and he pulls his hips back, shivering at the sensitive slide of his spent cock falling from your wet cunt. He sits back, grasps your knees to keep you spread and watches the flutter and clench of your hole as the thick white leak of his spend starts to drool out of you. He gives a low, appreciative hum, and then bends forwards to press his face into your tummy, nuzzling there softly. Your hands come to his hair, panting chest heaving, and he mouths and sucks at the skin of your stomach, the undersides of your breasts as you both catch your breaths. He looks up, then, suddenly, a thought occurring to him, “You’re going to have dinner with me, right?” Voice a little frantic. 

You give him a slow, lovely smile, eyes sparkling, “Think we’ve gone and done things a little out of order here, haven’t we?”

He frowns in mock severity, then presses his face back into your tummy, another soft kiss, and shakes his head slowly, “No,” another kiss, this one to your hip, “Not at all. This morning counts as breakfast together.” He looks up to give you a quick, boyish grin. “How I see it, that’s actually an extreme dedication to order. Breakfast, sex, dinner.”

You sigh, laugh softly, “You know… I’m actually a little hungry right now,” you say contemplatively.

“Burgers? Fries?”

“Milkshake?”

“Well, we’ve gotta have somethin’ to dip ‘em in, right?”

“Of course.” Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling him up towards your mouth, “You’re so smart.”

“Very true. You’ve gotta stick with me now, I’ll teach you everything I know.” A kiss, another and another. 

He rests his face back on your belly, looking up at you, and you run the pad of your thumb over the fan of his lashes, and he feels so happy. 

-

It’s been months since then… and still even now, when he looks at you, all he knows is that he’s sure you saved his fucking life. 

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[shadeysprings]

A Toast to New Beginnings

—Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary — Reconnecting with your childhood best friend was supposed to be a wonderful experience—until it wasn't.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, drugging, implied kidnapping, childhood best friends to lovers with a dark twist, possessive Bucky and more that I could have forgotten.

Word Count — 1.7K

A/N — My second entry for @thebasementspouses The 12 Men of Christmas Writing Challenge. And it was such a thrill to write for Bucky again. As soon as I was able to choose what item to pair with him, my mind just went berserk. I mean, how could you not?!

Shoutout to my beta @sgt-seabass. But all mistakes are mine alone.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

“It’s really good to see you again, Bucky.”

The smile you give him is mirrored on his face as he takes your empty plate, stacks it with his, and places them in the sink.

It’s been years since you last saw him, years since you ran away from home and established a new life in the city. You thought he would be angry for leaving him, your only friend in your small town, after you had both promised to be there for each other no matter what.

Though life back then was tough and unpredictable. And as a teenager, it gave you no choice but to leave everything behind, to escape the hardships. Including him.

The years seem to have worn on him with the way he’s grown. You couldn’t believe that this is the same Bucky you knew who roughed up the kids that made fun of you, and stole lollipops from the local store just because you wanted them. He was reckless back then, a bad boy as the old women called him. But now, he seems like an entirely different person and yet at the same time familiar. Like home.

Gone is the long hair you’ve always known him to have, recalling how he beat up the boys who teased him for it, and loved how his mother would comb it out for him despite saying how much he disliked it. Now, his hair is neatly trimmed with the shadow of his beard just kissing his face. He’s also grown bigger; muscles bulged from his shoulders and arms, almost making his navy henley shirt too tight for him. 

Guilt suddenly swirls around you, twiddling your fingers together as you remain seated at table and watch him tidy up the kitchen. You even take the time to observe his apartment—a complete bachelor’s pad. But you can’t help but notice the small touches he’s added that reminds you of his childhood home.

He’s never brought up the past once since you met last week by chance at the grocery store. Never once has he shown any emotions of betrayal for what you’ve done. But with you, it’s all you’ve been thinking about after parting ways and agreeing to his invitation to reconnect.

“You remember my mama’s eggnog back then?” He says, disrupting your train of thought, a smile still ever present on his lips when you look up at him.

You smile once more, the memory washing over you like a wave. “How can I forget? She always made mine with chocolate.”

“You always were her favorite,” he laughs heartily. “Liked you more than her own son.”

“Well, she always did want a girl. And I’m the closest thing to a daughter she’ll ever have,” you say with equal mirth.

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit on the couch.” Bucky instructs with a playful inflection in his voice.  You stand from the dining table, already making your way to the living room. “I’ll bring you a mug before I give you your present.”

“Present?” That surprises you.

Taking a seat on the couch, you finally notice a small red box sitting on the low coffee table, your name written on the card. You didn’t know he was preparing something for you, and you came to his place empty handed. If the situation were different, if this were to happen in the past, you would have teased each other about it. But with so much time wedged between the both of you, you can’t help but feel another bout of remorse and realize how much things have changed.

“Here you go.” 

You look up at Bucky and take the offered mug, the warmth radiating in your palms. He joins you on the couch, a mug for himself in his hand, and a smile grazes his face when he takes a sip. His blue eyes cast over at you, curiosity present. 

“You’re sad.” He says, turning in his seat to face you completely. “Did something upset you?”

Placing your drink on the table, you clasp your hands tight and stare blankly into nothing. Of course something upset you. Everything since Bucky came back into your life upset you. It wasn’t because he was part of the past you wanted to forget but more so because you abandoned him.

Yet here he is, making you meals and your favorite drink, the gift adding to the pain that you desperately keep hiding deep in your chest. 

“Bucky— I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You look over at him when he interrupts, his mug now sitting beside yours. “You did what you had to do, I know. It took time to accept it, but I eventually did.” His hands then envelop yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. There’s a slight smile on his face, the same one that always brought you comfort whenever something troubled you. 

Slowly, he reaches over to give your cheek a gentle pinch, ultimately making you chuckle at the childish gesture. Your mug is placed between your palms, and he takes his all the same, sipping on it before nodding in your direction. 

“Go on. Mama’s eggnog always makes you feel better during the holidays,” he urges. 

“Well, she always made mine special,” you respond, sticking your tongue out playfully at him, and take a heavy gulp of the warm beverage. But your face twists when you swallow, a sour aftertaste scattering on the surface of your tongue that makes you look at your mug, then at Bucky. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.

“No,” you say, trying to appease him, but the cough you release lets him know otherwise. “Just— I don’t remember it being this bitter.”

“Shit. I must have added too much cinnamon in it.” There’s a frown on his lips as he stands from his seat, holding his hand out for the mug. “I can make you a new one if you like. Probably hold back on the cinnamon this time.”

“Oh, don’t bother.” You tell him, schooling your features as you take another sip. “It’s still good. But maybe I can have a glass of water with it?”

“Already on it.” 

You take another mouthful as he leaves for the kitchen, hoping to get used to the bitter aftertaste. But it’s an endeavor you stop, placing the mug back on the coffee table and instead reaching out for the red box to guess its contents. 

But your heart begins to beat at a rapid pace, hands shaking uncontrollably, and you gasp when you feel your muscles tighten then loosen altogether, making you lean back against the cushions of the couch like a wilted flower as you try to decipher what’s happening. You try to call for Bucky to help you in your mysterious ordeal, but no matter how hard you try, no words leave your lips. And in just a matter of seconds, you’re rendered helpless and incapacitated. 

Your eyes widen when you see Bucky return, eyes cast down on you as he sets the glass of water beside your mug. He says nothing, not even questioning how you’ve come to be this way, yet there seems to be no sense of urgency permeating through him. And instead, he lets out a chuckle when he takes your legs from the floor and lifts them up to the couch. 

“Well, what do you know! It does have a fast reaction time,” he says with a grin, taking a seat at your side and reaching over to caress your face.

What? He did this on purpose? But why?

Confusion runs wildly in your head as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel nothing yet everything all at once; the sound of his heavy breaths when he leans closer, the heat that flutters on your skin when he grazes his fingertips against it, and the sight of his intense stare, how the blue of his eyes grow bolder, the concern and, dare you say, love in them earlier replaced with hunger, possessiveness and something darker.

“After years of waiting, I finally have you, my Dove.” 

That name. 

It’s been years since you’ve heard it. And it was only him and his mother who called you as such. The name that used to bring you joy each time you heard it. Yet now, it elicits fear in your chest.

Sapphire orbs bores into your eyes while his hand caresses your cheek. “Unlike before, I won’t let you go that easily.” His hand snakes down to your neck, then lower to your breast, taking a tit in his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “In all honesty, you did this to yourself. If you never left me, we would never be in this situation. We could have been married. Living a simple life on the outskirts of town. Maybe even here in the city.” Releasing your breast, he pushes his hand lower, skating down your blouse and stopping just at the edge of your jeans. With deft hands, he undoes the button and pulls down the zip, your chest pounding as you foresee the coming events, wanting to kick him away from you—but it’s no use.

You no longer see your childhood best friend, your protector through the years. What you see is a stranger, a monster, here to haunt you through the next.

He’s strong, pulling the fabric off your thighs and tossing them haphazardly to the ground. He then stands, eyes raking over your body, and you’re once more stricken with fear when he starts to undo his pants. 

“Now, I’ll make sure that you never leave me,” he continues, kicking his pants away and taking your legs in his hands, lifting them over his shoulders as he kneels before you. 

You do nothing but watch in horror and feel his ministrations when he pushes your panties aside and presses his thumb against your clit. He rolls it slowly, teasing, dampening your cunt with each stroke he makes, pulling at the pleasure you desperately tamp down, but all your efforts are useless with your body subdued.

He lines his cock against your cunt, feeling the way he rubs the tip against your folds, taunting to penetrate at any moment. 

“This time, I’ll make sure we’ll be together forever.”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #a toast to new beginnings #tbschristmaschallenge #mcu #tfatws #sebastian stan characters #shadeysprings fics

[ahamkara-apologist]

Okay I kinda get being dissapointed at how they rushed the Sov sibling reconcilliation with just one conversation after drawing it out for months but y'all...this really isn't the end-all-be-all of Crow's character arc, nor is it necessarily out of line for him. His biggest weakness is that he's a bleeding heart who lets people walk all over him- remember how he decided not to get revenge on Spider despite Spider very literally keeping him as a slave? Or how he killed a psion because he was too empathetic to a hive guardian? As much as I love him, and as much as his love is a terrifying force when weilded correctly, he's soft and weak. He always has been. He was bound to forgive Mara eventually, esp. since they have a psychic twin bond going on.

I think y'all are also forgetting the fact that Mara has had quite a bit of character development over the past year or so and has very notably been more open about her emotions and better about keeping herself out of Crow's life- because she got bitchslapped by the reality of what she'd done to him in Season of the Lost and then got shaken to the core by her confrontation with the Witness in Witch Queen. She hasn't been 'defanged', she realized that the way she was acting qualified her to be a Disciple (aka the worst of the worst, the enemy she'd been hellbent on fighting this whole time) and that in tandem with Crow's rejection upset her deeply enough for her to change her behavior, which hasn't been as apparent until now. Idk how y'all can forgive how Uldren Sov slaughtered hundreds of Awoken citizens and wreaked havoc on the Reef but is changed as Crow without also acknowledging the fact that Mara herself changed as well. It's not as dramatic of a difference because it happened more gradually and without intervention from a Taken Ahamkara and the Traveller, but its still there and is the most apparent its ever been right now. It wouldn't surprise me if the reason why Crow is forgiving her now- apart from the fact that he's a softie and discounting potential Riven bullshit- is because she's proven she's changed by both keeping her distance and being more emotionally open with him, as well as open about how she knows she fucked up. That's the second thing Uldren wanted other than her approval, after all.

Also, it's been like, 2 years of Crow being pissed at Mara and avoiding her, so them starting to make up now is kinda necessary even if it feels a bit rushed. I personally would have loved to see more snark and nettling from Crow's end, bc I love conflict and sibling angst, but it really isn't out of character nor is it throwing away Crow's character arc. It would have if Mara hadn't changed, but she has. And while I myself love storylines where victims don't need to forgive their abusers and can exert their wrath upon them as they wish, the fact of the matter is that how such a situation needs to be dealt with varies immensely on a person-to-person basis, which the writing team has already proven they're capable of understanding. Just look at Calus's and Caiatl's relationship! That ended with no reconcilliation because Calus simply refused to change, while Mara has spent the past year trying to get Crow to feel comfortable with her as an equal in conversations and open up to him more and trying to break her habit of watching him like a hawk- aka, acting like an actual sister rather than the pseudo-mother figure she'd picked up from Osanna. Ofc Crow the softie is going to respond to that, esp. since he's got a psychic connection to her via Awoken Twin Magic and seems to have been walking Uldren's memories as of late. He just genuinely is really fucking bad at holding a grudge.

(And while its easy to go 'oh the writing is lazy and rushed', I also think its kinda sus that Riven specifically talks about the human wish to reconnect with family right after the Sov sibling talk happens. It wouldn't surprise me if she picked up on Mara's desire to reconnect with her brother and pushed Crow towards forgiving her. It seems like she's been trying to pull Uldren's memories to the forefront everytime she talks with him and that could be a big factor as to why he's been reflecting on them a lot recently)

#destiny 2 #mara sov #uldren sov #crow #like id have loved for more fighting and drama and tbh i miss mean bitch mara #but also this is entirely in line with crows character and also. mara deadass is not the person she was before #turns out that learning your actions are seen as admirable by a xenocidal alien entity #is a pretty damn good incentive to buckle the fuck up and learn to change for the better!!

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Curious, in this au what is Marx’s role in this story. Is he changed at all or different

I try to incorporate and mix anime & game lore in order (to try) achieve a good mix of both... (but everyone is 10 x emotional & sympathetic...)

So Marx was the last creation of N.M.E and was to be the "pièce de ré·sis·tance," a monster in the guise of a friend. Not just that, but the "perfect friend for Kirby." (Planning to take advantage of Kirby's soft heart and friendly nature.)

Similar to how they used the following monsters (Chill, Galbo, Kirby's Robot-dog, etc.), but he was never finished... the Nightmare's base was destroyed when Kirby & the townsfolk blew up the base.

Marx was just left there all alone... the only thing that survived. But he didn't know what was his purpose. And the minute he's born, all he can see are these soldiers (Star Warriors) hunting him down.

Thankfully, our friendly N.M.E Salesman saves him and tells him all about it, basically his last act of revenge against King Dedede & Kirby. And he honestly feels fulfilling his purpose is what's going to make him feel whole.

He even tells him that it was Kirby and the gang's fault he's left all along up here with no one. His beef wasn't just with Kirby but with everyone in Dreamland (but the anger is mostly towards cappies... they blew up his home).

Marx is pretty central to Kirby's stories and is one of the core reasons why he wants to become a star warrior. He does serve as one of Kirby's most loyal allies and one of Kirby's closest friends.

HEAVY SPOILER WARNING FOR (KNIGHTMARE'S END & KING DEDEDE REMPTION ARC)... Keep reading if you'd like... I'm going to water down everything and skim over some details in this explanation. And there's some art content as well)

(After the events of The Knightmare's End)

After remembering his past with Meta Knight... Kirby wanted more than anything to rekindle his relationship with his long-lost guardian. With Kirby regaining his memories it was easy for him to slip and reestablish the closeness he had with Meta Knight back when he was an infant. (He missed him so much...)

Meta Knight (on his part) was determined to make up for all the lost time, teach him everything he knew, and eager to reconnect with his boy after all those wretched years alone. He was ready to give him the world... (Basically, he spoiled him rotten for a while! XD)

Being under Meta Knight's tutelage, Kirby began to mature properly, even learning how to talk... but he taught him in a way that made him excited to learn. With each lesson, he'd weave tales from his past... which allowed Kirby to learn more about Team Halberd (their family). He'd even invite Knuckle Joe & Sircia for lessons & sparring so they could learn about their parents.

For Meta Knight, spending time with Kirby managed to heal the wounds around his heart. As for Kirby, he felt like this was what he had been missing all this life (a parental figure), someone who could always be there for him & love him no matter what. The bond they shared made each other feel less lonely, and it was one in which they helped each other grow.

But unknowingly this had consequences...

With Meta Knight reclaiming as Kirby's guardian leaves Fumu in this status of limbo. Fumu basically got everything she wanted... being free of the burden she was as the keeper of the warpstar. But she didn't know how drastically his relationship with Kirby would change.

Fumu still doesn't know Kirby overheard what she said... he just doesn't want to trouble her anymore (like she wanted). The events of the whole anime series took a toll on Kirby. (Namely, with the cappies wanting to kick him out.) He found himself staying away from town.

While everyone in Cappy town tried to make it up to Kirby... and forgave them. He never really trusted them or allowed them to get close to him like they used to. Fumu sees this and tries to remedy the situation, which backfires terribly. (Is the same thing similar to the "Kirby Takes the Cake,"- episode where he runs away.)

Fumu: Kirby this is your home, everyone lo-

Kirby: Then why doesn't it feel like home-

Fumu: Kirby but why-

Kirby: Poyo... going to Meta Knight's...

This was the moment when she realized just out of touch she was with Kirby. Bun could only watch this trainwreck... and couldn't help but be upset with Kirby turning down all his sister's party. Causing a rift between the friends. (They still didn't get it Fumu & Bun.)

This divide is made even further with the (redemption arc) of King Dedede. (Events involving Dark Matter)

Kirby forgives Dedede and now considers him a friend!? This leaves Fumu & Bun desperate to convenience him otherwise... believing him to be too trusting & too naive... But who should come to back Kirby on his decision is none other than Meta Knight!

Kirby: But he means you don't see what I-

Fumu: He's tricking you, Kirby! Like he always does...

Bun: Yeah, how many times has he pulled this "turned over a new leaf junk" on everyone!

KD: It's fine kiddo... I won't stay where I'm not wanted I'll-

Kirby: Poyo, (sees KD visually uncomfortable) but Dedede...

Fumu: Meta Knight, aren't you going to do something, stop-

Meta Knight: I stand by my pupil's decision... This is Kirby's choice... I trust him... do not overstep your boundaries, both of you!

Resulting in Kirby spending more time with Dedede & MK than with them (helping the king to better himself). The siblings want nothing to do with Dedede's betterment. Bun & Fumu... they can't help but resent Dedede but this also minimizes the time their time with Kirby.

It bothers them how increasingly chummy he's they've been getting with King Dedede. (There's also a little incident that Kirby & Meta Knight swore to keep secret for KD's sake that they two don't know about... which would have probably made them more sympathetic to King Deded, it just wasn't their (Kirby & MK) story to tell...)

In truth, Marx didn't have to do that much... he just had to expose Fumu & Bun's deepest insecurities about their friendships. With Bun being the main chess piece in it all.

(Marx's arc takes place after "Kirby and the Crystal Shards" )This is Kirby's first major adventure... without them.

Fumu bottles up her feelings... but Bun is furious and extremely jealous of King Dedede: it almost feels like they've both been replaced with the guy who tried to get rid of him before.

Causing tension from the once-knit, tight group of friends (Fumu & Bun). And the dynamic of the trio has been altered... causing the cracks in their relationship undeniable... And who should take advantage of these cracks... Marx.

Marx's major role in this arc serves to expose the cracks in the friendships he has with Fumu & Bun. And show how a pile of little problems can destroy a once-strong friend.

So, without going into detail...: Marx manages to manipulate the heck out of Bun & the other kids (the group he hangs out with in the anime) to bully Kirby, leading to the kids pranking and almost killing King Dedede.

Bun receives the brunt of the punishment and reveals his jealousy and anger at Kirby, leaving him and Fumu behind (especially after the Ripple Star saga).

This leads to Kirby calling Bun a horrible friend, resulting in "Empathic touch" being accidentally used. Bun & the kid gang are forced to see and feel what they've been doing to Kirby... even before the incident. All the times they made him feel small, left out, stupid, and different...

It's finally to revealed Fumu that Kirby heard her rant about "How she never wanted to look after Kirby..."

Everything all clicks to her now and she starts to apologize profusely. But it's far too late for that... because to Kirby... Fumu's actions lately (Marx also manipulated her into ignoring Kirby) prove it otherwise.

And they (Bun & the kid gang) feel awful (AS THEY RIGHTFULLY SHOULD!) And META KNIGHT IS ABSOLUTELY LIVID, no longer trusts Bun, and says, "I'm utterly disappointed in you..." And doesn't want him and those "gutter children" (Meta Knight) near Kirby... again...

But he (MK) apologizes to Fumu... "I'm sorry Fumu... I should have never got you involved... I will try better not to..."

Fumu: Not that's not what I wanted, Kirby- *reaches out to him*

Kirby pulled away from her, disheartened... Meta Knight trying his best to comfort Kirby... with Dedede carrying him in his arms... they both bring the poor baby home.

Marx relishes this! During this incident managed to paint himself as an absolute saint... (being the one who told MK of the bullying, warning Kirby about the car, etc.) while Bun was the evil mastermind (when in reality it was Marx).

While Marx may have been the main puppeteer, these were issues that were already beneath the surface... Marx just dug them up. (This is why this friend problem is carried into the next 2 arcs... okay back to Marx...)

Taking full advantage of Kirby's low state and doing his job as the perfect friend. And he actually manages to cheer him up! He plays with Kirby and listens to his problems (slowly accidentally gets attached and realizes how alike they are and... NONONO! Marx you've got a job to do!) But the more he spent time with Kirby the more his inner guilt grew...

A few weeks later, the game plot begins with a bit of a change.

Meta Knight is still suspicious of Marx... so rather than letting Kirby go alone to collect the stars, he goes with him (plus he's too young to travel alone.) Basically, Meta Knightmare Ultra & Kirby Milky Way Wishes combined. In short, the trip ends up being a fun father-son trip... just with them having to stop the Sun and the Moon from fighting at the end.

Meta Knight takes this as an opportunity to have him unpack the situation with Fumu & Bun. However, he doesn't give him the false hope that everything will be patched up instantly... it's going to take time and effort. And friends just sometimes (unintentionally) drift apart... especially when you're growing up... they change.

Meta Knight then reveals that he had a friend like that too and they ended up drifting apart as well... but it ended terribly (Galacta Knight). They collect all the stars (yada, yada, yada) same plot line happened, "Marx Villain reveal" but with a little twist.

When it comes time to make the wish... Nova attempts to grant the wish, but they cannot grant the wish. They tried multiple times as a result of this happened:

Nova: Are you sure this is what you want?!

Marx: OF COURSE THIS IS MY PURPOSE! MY DESTINY GRANT MY DANG WISH ALREADY YOU DAM-

Nova: That's not what you want... You don't really want this...

Marx: What are you...

Meta Knight takes this as the opportunity to fly into Nova... Basically, it was Meta Knight the one to destroy the Nova Clockwork, instead of Kirby on the Starship.

While Kirby takes on Marx... he tries to talk to Marx, but he's not having it... This is where Marx's Soul kicks in as he rages on all the while tears, are leaking from his eyes. Blaming Kirby for his failures, claiming he must have done something.

Marx constantly angrily asks, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!," "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME! YOU AND YOU'RE STUPID CAPPIES ARE THE REASON I'M ALONE IN THIS WORLD! YOU DESTROYED MY HOME AND RUINED MY LIFE I HAVE NO ONE! I HAD A DESTINY! I HAD A PURPOSE, AND YOU! I WAS CREATED TO WRECK HAVC! ... so ...WHY... Why... *begins to cry* I'm supposed to hate- You and your stupid friendship... why do I feel-*

Then Kirby hits him with an "empathic touch," which shows pretty much a montage of Marx and Kirby's moments together. He pretty much shows that "he was enjoying his time with Kirby...", and "he does care for Kirby..." (Oh no did he actually want to be friends with Kirby- This wasn't so supposed to happen!?)

Kirby understands it all: feeling lost, trying hard to fit in, finding your place in the world. What happened to him after the destruction of Nightmare's base. (how he was abused by a certain someone) Kirby just felt so sorry for Marx and was oozing with empathy for him.

Kirby: It's okay Marx I forgive y-

Marx: DON'T... Don't I... I don't deserve- AAARGH!

Due to Kirby's "empathic touch," he was able to also feel how much the friendship meant to Kirby. Marx can't help but he failed on both ends... he couldn't do what he was made for and he may have just lost his first and only friend...

And just before Kirby has a chance to forgive Marx: he flees anger at himself for everything he's done. He doesn't want Kirby's forgiveness (he doesn't deserve it...), leaving behind his balancing-ball.

Marx does make a wish, however... but it's not what you think...

Once destroying the Nova Clockwork Meta Knight, rushes to console his Kirby.

Meta Knight: Kirby, are you alright-

Kirby: If had just one person in his life... maybe he wouldn't have... he could've been my friend- poyo~*starts crying* I can't hate him, I just can't... ARE ALL MY FRIENDSHIPS GOING TO AMOUNT TO THIS IN THE END... LIKE THIS!?

Meta Knight: Oh my poor boy you've been through so much-

Kirby: Am I dumb, hoping he'll come back as my friend... IT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE!?

Meta Knight: It doesn't have to... *hugs him* this friendship meant a lot to you... it helped you through a tough time * Think back on his friendship with Galacta, although it hurt him in the end, he was grateful for the good it did* it made you less lonely I think that part's worth cherishing... and I don't think you're dumb...

Kirby: Huh?

Meta Knight: After the war, I kept seeing the worst in everything... expecting the worst... to stop me from-... but it blinded me from the good as well (he's referring to Kirby) and... I fell into despair. *pats his head* I'm sorry to say this probably won't be the last something like this will happen, but...

*wipes tears with his cape*

Meta Knight says something that resonates with Kirby... and it's something he carries even to this day.

Meta Knight: So keep your eyes open and beware of the bad in the world... but also *takes Marx's ball and gives it to Kirby* hold on... hold on to the good as well... you don't have to look, just know that it's there... it'll keep you from falling...

For a while, Marx wonders galaxy... I'm not gonna reveal what he does just yet, but... the path he takes leads him back to Kirby.

One thing leads to another, and Kirby gets saved... BY MARX?! Marx tries to flee after saying Kirby, but he gets gravely injured... which forces him to have to stay put. Well, he tries to escape and is literally a feral cat the whole time. He just feels too darn guilty still about everything about Nova's Wish... and doesn't believe Kirby actually forgives him.

So, as a compromise, they let him recover in Halcandra. They cash in a favor from Magolor. Marx gets to know Magolor and basically talks about his story with Kirby. (Literally, Mags just redeemed himself recently...) This interaction makes him feel a little better... but he's still a little anxious that is until Kirby shows him his ball...

I really love Marx's story arc... I hope I didn't spoil too much there are a few secrets still hidden, but like I said this is a very watered-down version of everything hope you stick around for the full story!

Look forward to it!

#kirby #kbasw #kirby marx #meta knight #metadad #king dedede #galacta knight #krbay #kirby right back at ya #hoshi no kaabii #kirby anime #fumu kirby #kirby bun #kirby tiff #kirby fanfic #kirby tuff #magolor

[ametrinearrows]

Second Chance Friendship

The roar of the crowd echoed through the arena as I watched YN YLN's match unfold on Monday Night Raw. It had been a while since we had crossed paths, and the memories of our past weighed heavily on my mind. Our friendship had taken a hit before I joined the WWE, and time had done little to erase the nagging feeling that something precious had been lost. 

 As YN's music hit and she made her way to the ring, my heart raced. She looked as fierce and determined as ever, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of pride for how far she had come. But beneath that pride, there was an ache, a longing to reconnect with the person who had once been such an integral part of my life. 

 The match was intense, with YN giving it her all in the ring. As the final bell rang, I watched her exit the arena, her adrenaline still palpable. This was my chance – the perfect opportunity to reach out and mend what had been broken. 

 I made my way backstage, my footsteps echoing in the corridor. My heart pounded in my chest as I searched for her, the uncertainty of how she would react gnawing at me. Eventually, I spotted her in a quiet corner, catching her breath after the match. 

 "Hey," I said softly, my voice catching slightly as I approached her. 

 YN turned, her gaze meeting mine. There was a flicker of surprise in her eyes, quickly replaced by a guarded expression. "Jon." 

 I swallowed the lump in my throat, the weight of our history heavy in the air between us. "Can we talk?" 

 She hesitated for a moment before nodding, motioning for me to follow her to a more secluded spot. 

 We stood there, the silence stretching between us, both of us grappling with the words we wanted to say. Finally, I broke the silence, my voice tinged with regret. "YNN, I... I know we haven't seen each other in a while, and things were left unresolved between us." 

 She looked at me, her gaze steady but distant. "Yeah, they were." 

 I took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I've missed you, YNN. Our friendship meant a lot to me, and I hate that things ended the way they did." 

 YN's expression softened slightly, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. "I've missed you too, Jon. But the argument we had... it was pretty big." 

 I nodded, my regret deepening. "I know. And I'm sorry for my part in that. I was stubborn, and I should've handled things differently." 

 She sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor before meeting mine once more. "You're right, Jon. I was stubborn too. We both let our egos get in the way." 

 A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "Yeah, we were both pretty good at that." 

 YN chuckled softly, the tension in the air beginning to dissipate. "Yeah, we were." 

 I took a step closer, my voice earnest. "I've watched you out there tonight, and I couldn't be prouder. You've come so far, YNN." 

 Her smile grew, and there was a warmth in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "Thank you, Jon." 

 I hesitated for a moment before taking the plunge. "Can we start over, YNN? Put the past behind us and move forward as friends again?" 

 She looked at me, a mixture of emotions playing across her features. After a beat, she nodded, her smile genuine. "Yeah, I think we can." 

 Relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but smile back at her. It felt like a weight had been lifted, like the chance for something meaningful to be restored was within reach. 

 "Good," I said, a sense of hope coursing through me. "Because I've missed having you in my life, YNN. And I want to be there for you now that we're both part of this crazy world." 

 Her smile widened, and this time, it reached her eyes. "I've missed having you around too, Jon." 

 As we stood there, the echoes of our past fading into the background, a sense of renewal filled the air. Our friendship had weathered its storms, and now, as we looked toward the future, I knew that we were both ready to embrace what lay ahead – together.

#ametrine arrows #ametrine arrows imagines #wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #Monday night raw #smackdown #Dean Ambrose #Dean Ambrose x reader #Dean Ambrose imagine #Dean Ambrose imagines #Dean Ambrose fanfiction #wwe fanfiction

[chaotictarlos]

tarlos fics by chaotictarlos

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

I know a lot of people are doing a rewatch soon so I thought I'd make a masterlist of my fics by season. These are only fics that go with episodes. If you want to read my other Tarlos fics you can check out my ao3: happygowriting

Season 1

the night we met || TK has finally said yes to being his boyfriend, to trying out the whole relationship thing ago. However, his happiness is short lived when he gets news about someone from his past.

Season 2

Mine || TK flirts with a bartender and Carlos takes him home to show him who’s boss.

Unprofessional || The morning before TK became Carlos’ “friend from work”.

Season 3

I'll be missing you || It’s been months since they’ve seen each other but the holidays have TK feeling lonely and needing Carlos. Even as he tries not to, he craves his touch and company.

back to you || 107 days since he had felt Carlos’s arms wrapped around him and it killed him every day he went without it. He missed the smell of Carlos’ cologne and how it always lingered after they hugged. He missed the feeling of Carlos kissing him awake, the way “good morning” always sounded extra special when it was coming from a sleep Carlos. He missed the way Carlos would make him feel safe and secure after a bad call. The way Carlos would look at him, soft eyes seeing right through him. But most of all he missed how he felt when he was with Carlos and how the world was made of colors again. Because without Carlos everything was gray and TK was just barely hanging on.

the one I want || TK gets Carlos to take his shirt off.

be okay || Carlos hears that there was a shooting with the 126 involved but doesn’t know TK’s okay

down to clown || TK makes it up to Carlos for bringing home a lizard.

A thousand times yes || TK and Carlos celebrate their engagement.

You took the best of my heart and left the rest in pieces || An exploration of emotions. The Breakup Era from Carlos' POV

Season 4

where do we go from here? - TK POV Coda || TK finds out Carlos' secret and they talk about it

how did we (i) get here? - Carlos Begins || A look at Carlos, from when he was younger to present. Or, in which I meant to write a Carlos POV Coda and wrote a Carlos begins and so much more.

And in your hands, is all of me - the parts I never let you have - Carlos POV Coda || Carlos has a secret he needs to tell TK, and it's killing him to get it out. Sequel to how did we (i) get here? Carlos POV coda to 4 x 01

All Night Long || TK has some feelings about seeing Carlos in plaid.

Waiting up for you || After the 126 gang goes home, TK waits up for Carlos who never comes home.

do you still want me like i want you? || TK can't get Carlos words out of his head. He can't help but feel maybe this is all a mistake and that Carlos is regretting saying yes to him.

"It's yours" || “TK,” he says softly. The two syllables of his name falling from Carlos’ lips is enough to get TK to move his feet and push into the room. Carlos reaches out and TK immediately grabs onto his hand, clinging to it desperately. When he feels Carlos’ warm skin under his, he lets out a sigh, his body relaxing.

Let me be your shoulder || Carlos struggles to let TK help.

beneath your hands, i come apart || TK gets his dessert and shows Carlos how much he loves him.

in the quiet with you || “We had the craziest call tonight,” TK says as he sets the table for dinner, freshly clean from his shower. “What was it about?” Carlos asks where he’s finishing up at the stove, dinner almost ready. “This man came in with his wife on a refrigerator dolly, hanging upside down, claiming that if she’s not upside down then she dies.” TK chuckles slightly, still amazed at the memory, setting out the various sauces and toppings for the tacos that Carlos has made.

you're all i need || TK and Carlos finally get a night to themselves to reconnect and relax after some hectic wedding planning.

these moments with you || A soft moment between TK and Carlos

off duty || Carlos is at home when he hears about an ambulance exploding.

after gala fun || Carlos and TK have some fun after the gala

Dreamy Officer Reyes and his Nincompoop || Carlos and TK have some roleplay fun.

A future without you is no future at all || Carlos and TK talk again later that night about kids and Carlos tells TK more about the fears that he has.

Lost in You || TK comes home making wife jokes and Carlos reminds him who he belongs to.

Pudding Punishment || Carlos faces some fun consequences to stealing the pudding.

after work conversations || Carlos ices TK's face while they talk about their day.

in sickness and in health || All Carlos has ever wanted is to love TK and live a life by his side, now that's threatened by yet another thing that he can't control.

Words left unsaid || Carlos deals with his grief after his father's funeral

Vacation Eyes || TK and Carlos start their honeymoon.

The Loft || TK and Carlos decide that they're going to stay home for their honeymoon instead of going someplace else.

#chaotic fics #911 lonestar #911 ls #911 lonestar fan fictions #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #tk strand x carlos reyes #tk x carlos #tarlos fan fiction #season 1 #season 2 #season 3 #season 4 #911ls #911 ls fic #911 ls fan fic

[hamsterwalled]

I like Serizawa a normal amount (lie) I don't think about him and his backstory and his development all the time (lie) I don't think about how he's one of the first people to truly understand what Mob went through after getting all of Mob's emotions and memories blasted at him in the Culture Tower (lie) I don't think about how he might be the only person besides Dimple that knows everything about Mogamiland (and he actually knows more than Dimple because he saw EVERYTHING) (lie) I don't ever think about how he would have ended up being so different if he'd had a good support system growing up (this is not to say that I hate his mom she was trying her damnedest and the claw thing isn't really her fault she just wanted the best for him) (lie) I never ever think about serizawa and his mom reconnecting and how emotional that must have been (lie) I don't think about him growing his confidence while working at S&S and finally growing to be more independent after relying on Toichirou and Claw and his umbrella for so long (lie) I don't think about how he still uses an umbrella as a shield in the last/second to last episode (THE PARALLELS BETWEEN HIM DEFENDING REIGEN WHEN SERIZAWA FIRST MEETS HIM AND HIM DEFENDING HIM IN THE LAST FEW EPISODES. ALSO I WISH SERIZAWA HAD HAD A MOMENT WITH MOB LIKE EVERYONE ELSE UGH THAT WOULD HAVE MADE ME BAWL SO MUCH HARDER THAN I DID) (lie) Yeah I'm so normal about him I don't think about him that much (lie)

#i think that we as a society do not talk about Serizawa's complete dependence on Toichirou and how much it must have taken #to betray him and defend Mob and Reigen and Shou #like. HELLO?? #that man had been so toxically dependant on Suzuki for like probably at least a decade #he literally became a terrorist because he blindly trusted this man so much #also can we talk about the parallels between Mob's blind trust in Reigen and Serizawa's blind trust in Suzuki? #obviously Reigen is a much better person than Suzuki but the parallels are there nonetheless #did you notice that i got sick of spelling out toichirou and just went with suzuki? cause i did #i hate typing out Toichirou #its not even hard jts just a pain in my ass #mp100 #also i know that deep down both Mob and Serizawa knew that the people they believed were lying that just adds another parallel #actually wait did mob know #i dont remember #im pretty sure he sort of did #or at least ???% him did

[akariamai]

You Left

Part 2

Summary: Matt overheard his neighbor briefly speaking of a betrayal

There was a stranger situated in your living room and he couldn’t differentiate if they were a friend or an enemy. He knew you must’ve suffered a great deal of trauma. At times, your heart beat kept steady as you reassured him you were fine and the nightmares didn’t haunt you as often as they did. When he returns from his nightly activities, he can hear you still awake sipping on coffee to relieve you of the nightmarish memories he had yet to figure out. You were a complete mystery to him. A blank slate that perplexed his senses to the point where he could not deceiver lies from truths and vice versa. It was just a guessing game with you.

This stranger carried the same atmosphere as you did, his senses could not pick up any obscurities in their movement, and it only left him to wonder in the comfort of his apartment. He knew your schedule and you should be arriving soon. If he hears any discrepancies in the beat of your heart, he’ll definitely come check as Daredevil. His costume laid next to him and he slowly started to change in case he was needed urgently.

You stood right outside of your apartment, searching for your keys in the purse you’d carried everywhere, and you stopped for a brief moment. Matt wondered if you could sense something was out of place like the woman sitting on your couch. Most likely waiting for you to arrive through the front door. “Are we gonna talk like grown-ups or do you always break into people’s apartments all willy-nilly?” He sighed internally. You knew the woman who broke into your apartment and were not even surprised. Not a single elevation to your heart beat. Such intrusion didn’t even faze you. Almost like you were anticipating this happenstance to occur.

“Is it a crime to wait to visit?” The woman’s voice was silky but filled with a false cheerfulness.

“What do you want?” The lack of emotion in your voice rattled both the woman and Matt. You were often closed off to him but still managed to mask your joyful facade. However, to this person your true feelings arose. “You obviously want something, so spill. Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to see you.” Her heart sped up for a quick second, almost swift enough for his senses to miss. 

You chuckled indifferently, “Bullshit. If you wanted to talk, you could’ve done it years ago. So why now?”

“You’re my sister.”

“Don’t say that. You left me. You left me in that god awful place while you got to play with the cool kids.” Matt could feel the grief and outrage of the whole affair. He did not know what you meant by there but it must’ve been horrid enough to hold such anguish and an immense grudge. Abandonment. It was one of the causes for your distaste towards the woman. “You know once we heard of your escape we felt a sliver of hope that help would arrive. You would save from that penitentiary of hell but you never showed. You never looked back.”

“I did try to help. I thought I killed him.” The woman pleaded. Grasping at anything she could to get back into your good graces. To reconnect the bond you’d once shared but Matt could feel there was nothing left to repair. It was severed the day you realized her presence was gone for good.

“Well you should’ve fought harder.” You asserted bitterly, “You should’ve looked for us. To see if you and your new friends could have provided us with some fucking stability.” Instead she did a sloppy job with her assassination attempt and chose to run away from her past rather than confront it head on. She had the ability to aid the rest of the little girls who had and hadn’t shrouded their hands in the blood of innocence. She had the chance at preventing more little girls from being reformed into mindless weapons but refused to do so. She instead chose to turn her back on her fellow black widows and widows in training, to fool herself into thinking she could splinter from what they conditioned her to become. 

“Please.” Her voice was weak. Her heart was breaking into tiny fragments of what it used to be. Matt, with his senseless need to assist, wanted nothing more than to comfort you. The words you spouted spitefully were coming from a woman who cried for help numerous times but was never answered. A woman who yearned for the love she didn’t think she deserved. Matt cannot fathom the amount of torture you’d endured during your time in the place you and the woman referred to, but even he knew it’s ghost still haunts you.

“Leave.” Your voice turned hard. “You need to leave and never come back. It shouldn’t be too hard for you. You already did it once.” It was a cheap blow. You knew it and so did she, but nevertheless she walked towards one of the windows. Presumably the window she slithered her way into. She glanced over at the girl, now a woman, she’d once abandoned. Reaping the seeds she’d sowed all those years ago. Matt changed into his civilian clothing as this was happening. He could not stay in his apartment knowing you were suffering in silence. He wanted to become your shoulder to cry on as you had listened to him rant about his troubles beforehand. You need someone even if it is to sit in your apartment in silence knowing someone is within reach.

Masterlist

#matt murdock #daredevil #black widow #black widow!reader #angst #the red room #trauma #marvel #marvel au #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x black widow!reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock one shot

[binkywinky]

I liked seeing the realism of the awkwardness between Carol and Monica and just how generally awkward Carol would be after years alone in space but I miss the cocky know-it-all version of Captain Marvel we got in the first movie. She was just so competent and cool and this movie felt a little tepid in that regard. Also wanted much more in terms of a conversation between Monica and her especially considering the ending. There should’ve been some kind of deep emotional exchange and we just didn’t get that. What do you think?

Hmm. Honestly, my first thought is that it sounds like maybe you wanted a different movie, but let me take a crack at this.

I'll address the version of Captain Marvel part first.

In CM, Carol was cocky because she was a young soldier as part of an elite team that only cared about the Kree. She had cool powers and never saw her actions as having any consequences because she was told the Kree were always in the right and she was a hero. She also had no memories or real emotional attachments to anyone, so there was no one depending on her or waiting on her back home. She could be as brash and know-it-all as she liked.

In The Marvels, she's almost 70. She has some of her memories back. She has people she cares about and who care about her - and who have expectations of her. She's lost one of the most important people in her life. She has thousands of planets of people who look to her to help them. And she has seen firsthand that being cocky and a know-it-all can have catastrophic consequences that spiral out of your control.

It wouldn't make a lick of sense for her to have the same attitude in The Marvels as she did in CM unless the plot and trajectory of her character was completely different. CM was about owning her power and reclaiming herself, which leans itself towards showcasing the cocky side of her. The Marvels is about family, reconnection, and atonement - which does not really call for that cocky aspect of her personality to be at the forefront. She still had moments of being cocky and certainly competent (like while fighting), but it was tempered by experience, as it should be. So while it may not be as exciting, I think it was better for her as a character because we actually got to see more sides of Carol and not just Captain Marvel. And personally, I find that a lot more interesting than the cocky, know-it-all schtick. We've seen that with countless characters in the MCU - I'm kind of over it. It's lazy IMO.

Now as far as the stuff with Monica, I stand by my statement that their deeper conversation would naturally have come after they finished the mission with Dar-Benn. They had to reach a point with each other where they're willing to have that conversation first, and that wasn't earned until the end. It's just unfortunate that Monica got trapped on the other side, so we can't see that full talk yet.

But you bring up an interesting point, and I really want to know, what exactly did you want or expect to happen? And I'm asking to take into account the actual situation they were in and what makes sense for the characters, not the fanfiction of what we're all guilty of imagining playing out. Because, for example, I've seen people say Monica should've fought Carol or screamed at her, and that makes zero sense because that's not in Monica's character. I also don't know what Monica would yell at her about after being told point blank, "I wanted to come home, but I inadvertently doomed a whole planet of people to die, and didn't feel like I deserved to be with family until I fixed it." Like what is Monica supposed to say to that? "I don't care - you still should've visited." That's silly.

So genuinely - and this is open to anyone - what would you have preferred to happen that still makes sense within the context of the movie and with the characters?

#binky answers anons #the marvels #carol danvers #monica rambeau #this is why i said maybe you wanted a different movie #and its not a dig or anything #if what they gave isn't what you wanted thats fair #but what they gave for the story they were telling made complete sense #and we have to separate 'its not what i wanted' from 'it wasn't good' #they are not the same #unless you also just don't think it was good for what it was intended to be - thats also fair

[cactikiki]

oooooooh you wanna talk about ur headcanons sooo bad

(srsly tho i'd love to see :3)

rubs my evil little hands together

Thank you kindly for the ask. I finally have an excuse to infodump about headcanons hehehehehe

You didn't specify who for, soooo I'm gonna go for 3 star fam + Cassie for this

Gregory Bowman

14 (at the time of RUIN, 12 during GGY)

Venezuelan

The most GNC kid you've ever seen, but people confuse him for a girl sometimes. He isn't super happy about that (he's ftm). Also, he's bi

Autistic

He gets overwhelmed with crowds, bright lights and strong smells (especially as patient 46. The Mimic made his autism stronger /hj)

He also gets migraines when the Mimic/Dr. Rabbit is messing with his mind.

He has a special interest in coding! He wanted to make video games when he was a little younger

Doesn't like to let his emotions get to him. He tries to push forward through them no matter what.

He tries to act tough to spite his small stature, and got into fights in school often because of it

Vanessa does his hair now. He likes it the way it is, so doesn't ask her to change it. He has let Cassie style it for fun before

His hair was hacked at with a pocket knife to keep it short while he was Dr. Rabbit. It looked far worse in GGY era than SB era.

Since hanging out with Cassie, he's been putting makeup on regularly. It's only black eyeliner and nail polish, though

He's always drawing or doodling. He finds it relieves stress if he doesn't overthink it (which, like all artists, he sometimes does)

Gets a lot of graphic nightmares about what the Mimic did while in his mind. Before recovering his memory, he thought they were just that– nightmares. 

He's seriously scared of the dark, to the point he hallucinates things moving in it

Used to own every piece of Freddy merch there was, until he ran away from home

He came from a fairly rich family. Not super rich, but rich enough to own a big house. It was mainly his relatives and his dad that had the money, while his mom was simply an indie writer

His parents threw money at him sometimes, and once he'd met Tony it'd gone straight to him a number of times

Was homeless for a few months, living on the streets and spending many nights at Cassie's. Eventually he started staying at the Pizzaplex. His memories of where and when are muddled.

Sees Vanessa as an older sister figure, Cassie a younger sister, and Freddy as parental (but don't tell any of them that) 

One of his front teeth is missing because it was knocked it out while someone fought him back as Dr. Rabbit. 

He's part of the 1% that actually likes sodaroni.

Vanessa A. 

23

Lesbian

Loved cooking, reading and gaming before the Glitchtrap stuff happened. She's slowly gotten back into it after taking Gregory in, but doesn't play games very often anymore unless it's with him. 

She's really awkward with people she doesn't know very well. And, despite trying her best, she often ends up freaking people out with some insanely obscure dark fact she knows, usually about Fazbear Entertainment's past.

Remembers everything from when she was Vanny, but it is slightly fuzzy

She pushed away all her friends and family when she was Vanny, and has yet to reconnect out of worry of something going wrong and them ending up hurt. She has considered sending Gregory to be with them in the past. 

Her grandmother passed not long before she was Vanny, and the two were particularly close. She'd taken the house and had not been able to live in it until she was freed. 

She used to be louder, but now she tends to be quiet and reserved. Some of her old personality shines through when she's with Gregory, when she teases him like an older sibling would

She's paranoid and overthinks things. She's scared Fazbear Entertainment will come knocking for Freddy, or that the Mimic will find out where they are through the internet, or a variety of irrational fears

Has a large scar on her waist from stray machinery in the sinkhole

Hasn't told Gregory about what the Mimic truly is, nor what it did to him, hoping to protect him.

Since Gregory can't remember much of his life from before, Vanessa promises she'll help him remember-- but she's grateful for some of the things he doesn't.

Freddy Fazbear

He charges overnight in the basement with a contraption Gregory came up with using an old car battery. The battery lasts 12 hours before needing a recharge. 

He has been accidentally left in a room alone by Gregory and Vanessa before, who forget sometimes that he's just a head now

On occasion the trio go on picnics to quiet places where they can be alone, and on these occasions Freddy gets to see the world– he's very excited about seeing new things outside of the plex! 

He can now connect to the internet, and was able to download all of the Pizzaplex's blueprints this way. He can also now be used as a projector. 

Since his Faz-wrench port was on his body, Gregory fitted a USB port to Freddy's head; it's janky, but it works long enough to transfer a few files. 

Gregory has asked about Bonnie, although Freddy doesn't talk about him much. He mostly fondly recalls memories before getting upset and not wanting to speak more. 

He's often the one to stop the sibling-ish arguments between Vanessa and Gregory 

He doesn't know it, but Gregory's been researching how to build small animatronics for a few months so he can build Freddy a new body as a surprise. He… Hasn't gotten very far, yet

He still sings on occasion, but finds it brings him memories of his friends, which (similarly to Bonnie) he doesn't like to think about too much. 

He feels incredibly guilty for what happened to all of his friends. He doesn't blame Gregory in the slightest, but does wish he'd taken a different approach. 

Cassie Reyes

14 (at the time of RUIN, her birthday was that very day) 

Dominican 

AuDHD

Trans + bi, like Gregory! But is mtf

Loves video games and would play them with Gregory all the time. She tended to prefer cosier games, while he liked RPGs– they played Minecraft together often, which kept them both satisfied. 

Super emotional, considers herself a crybaby. She tries to hide it behind a sassy, sometimes bossy exterior 

She imagines alternate situations a lot and pretends things are different than they really are. She can't cope with change or loss very easily. 

When she wants to do something, she will do anything to achieve her goal + won't rest until she does. She overworks herself and thinks too much about things she shouldn't 

Her mom died when she was 6. It's been just her and her dad since then

Her dad recently (as of RUIN) left for some reason, he didn't say– only leaving money and a note. She might drive herself crazy looking for him in future. 

She's the weird kid in class. She doesn't have any real friends and gets bullied for being into 'childish things'.

The wolf kid. The very reason she prefers Roxy over the others.

Her second favorite character is Chica! Although she likes all the characters a lot. She also remembers liking Bonnie before he disappeared-- even her dad couldn't tell her what happened.

She watches cartoons and writes essays or fics about them in her spare time 

While Gregory was homeless and visiting her, on the colder days, she'd let him in for movies and hot cocoa and they'd make a blanket fort. Sometimes Gregory would spend these nights falling asleep on Cassie, watching her play animal crossing or stardew valley

She won both the Roxy and Freddy talky for her and Gregory at the Pizzaplex during her birthday. Gregory would sometimes come within range while she was at home just to walkie something incredibly stupid or annoying, before getting out of range too fast for Cassie's complaints to be heard 

She hates sodaroni and feels nauseous every time Gregory drinks it right in front of her like it's nothing. 

#My sillies #If you wanna see more hcs just ask!! #This is only the tip of the iceberg for these three #And I haven't even gotten into the other characters..... #Also ALL of this is canon to Aftermath!! Sometimes my hcs differ between fics jshdjbd #There are hints to plot points in this lmao #fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #gregory #Vanessa #Cassie #glamrock freddy #Headcanons #GGY

[nochuelinha]

Your Eyes - Chapter 11: The Conversation

Dina found me sleeping on the cold floor, her concern evident on her face as she approached me. As I awakened from my lethargy, her words of concern and care enveloped me like a comforting embrace, breaking through the fog that surrounded me. It was difficult to find the words to explain the pain I was facing, but slowly, I shared with Dina what had happened between me and Ellie.

The next few days passed in a blur, each blending into the other in a haze of pain and despair. I moved through the world like a specter, feeling disconnected and distant, unable to escape the emotional whirlwind that consumed me. Ellie's occasional presence in my life, through her encounters with Dina, was like a constant shadow looming over me. Every time she showed up, a silent tension settled in the air, like a dense fog enveloping our bodies and driving us further apart.

We exchanged only quick greetings and avoided eye contact, but I could feel her eyes burning into me, like fiery coals piercing my soul. It's amazing how even after everything that happened, Ellie's presence still had the power to affect me in deep and complex ways. Instead of being the poison that corroded me, her presence became a balm for my troubled soul.

Slowly, Ellie began to send occasional messages, a timid sign of a possible reconciliation. Her messages contained jokes that only she knew would make me laugh and songs she liked and thought I would also be interested in. It was as if she was extending a bridge between us, trying to rebuild what had been broken. I recognized her attempts to reconnect, and despite all the promises I had made to myself to keep my distance, I found myself being drawn to her like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Each of her messages was like a ray of light in the darkness enveloping my soul, and I found myself unable to resist the temptation to let myself be carried away by her once again.

"So, Jesse's birthday is next week, I'm planning a surprise party at a pub in town, it's going to be amazing," Dina spoke excitedly, the idea seemed interesting to me, maybe a bit of distraction could help me. I helped her with the organization details.

Lying on my bed, I allowed my mind to wander through recent events, and a particular memory came to mind. It was a recent encounter with Cat, a few days ago. Like the first time, she waited for me outside one of my classes, but something seemed different this time. Her now prominent belly did not go unnoticed, but what surprised me the most was the softness in her voice when she finally spoke: "Can we talk?"

The silence that hung between us was broken by Cat's carefully chosen words. As she spoke, my heart seemed to beat faster in my chest, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension filling my thoughts. I continued to stare blankly ahead, unable to find the right words to respond.

"Ellie told me what happened between you two," her voice was calm and gentle, but her words were like a breath of fresh air, snapping me out of my distraction. I shifted uncomfortably on the bench, feeling the weight of the emotions beginning to build up inside me. "I don't know if you know, but Ellie has an older sister, Sara, she already has a son, Ellie followed her entire pregnancy and helped her even though she was just a teenager at the time, I saw in her a salvation for my doubts, I don't want to restart our relationship, don't tell her but, the alleged father of my child asked me out last week, I'm thinking about it," when Cat explained that she wasn't interested in restarting the relationship with Ellie, but was considering the advances of her child's alleged father, a sense of relief spread within me. It was comforting to hear that she was forging her own path, independent of external expectations or pressures. And the fact that she shared this information with me was a sign of mutual trust that I appreciated.

She smiled as she spoke, and I couldn't help but smile too, feeling a weight being lifted off my shoulders. Perhaps there was hope for all of us, even amidst our individual struggles. And as I listened to Cat talk about her decisions and her outlook for the future, I found myself feeling grateful for sharing this moment of vulnerability and mutual understanding with her. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something new and meaningful for both of us.

"Thank you for coming to talk to me," I replied with sincere appreciation, feeling a wave of gratitude spreading within me. Cat's presence and her kind words meant more to me than I could express in words. "I hope everything goes well with your pregnancy," I added, sincerely wishing the best for her and her baby. Cat deserved to find peace and happiness amidst the uncertainties she faced, and I hoped she found the support and strength she needed to navigate this challenging time. To my surprise, Cat hugged me, enveloping me in a gesture of warmth and solidarity.

Since then, I've been tempted to send a message to Ellie or call her, but every time I started to write, I couldn't bring myself to send it. It's 2:17 in the morning and I still haven't been able to sleep, my thoughts spinning rapidly. I miss her more than I can put into words. Every moment we spent together comes flooding back, inundating my mind with painful memories and overwhelming longing. The uncertainty about what will happen next only intensifies my anguish, leaving me restless and unable to find peace. Maybe, if I could gather enough courage to reach out to her, we could start to sort things out. But the fear of the unknown and of possible rejection continues to paralyze me.

My phone beeped, Ellie had sent me a video of kittens. "Look at them, so cute, just like you," she wrote.

With my heart racing, I sent a message to Ellie: "Can I call you?" My breath caught in my throat as I waited for her response, craving the contact and the opportunity to open my heart to her once again. Each passing second felt like an eternity, until finally the phone buzzed with her reply.

Reading her response filled my heart with hope and nervousness. "Of course, I'm available to talk," Ellie's message read. With trembling hands, I dialed her number, feeling a whirlwind of emotions bubbling up inside me. As soon as she answered, my shaky voice betrayed my vulnerability as I prepared to share my feelings once again.

"So, Ellie," I began, my voice slightly trembling, feeling the weight of the words I was about to share. She sounded surprised at the mention of Cat's name. "Cat talked to me today..."

"About what?" her soft, familiar voice elicited a mix of emotions, a blend of nostalgia and uncertainty.

"She told me that you've been a support for her," I continued, struggling to control the emotion in my voice. "And that she doesn't want to get back together with you."

There was a brief moment of silence on the other end of the line, where I could almost feel Ellie processing my words. Her next words would be crucial for our relationship, and I held my breath, waiting for her response.

"I'm glad you understand the situation, I admit I fell short in our last conversation," her voice was sweet now, I could almost picture her smile. "Y/N, I miss you," she whispered softly.

#ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #cat tlou #your eyes #the last os us #romance #ellie x y/n

[fallinallincurls]

I Know Something Now That I Didn’t Before

coming in at the last minute, but this fic is finally here!! thank you to @antoineroussel for hosting the summer fic exchange once again, it’s always so much fun to be a part of. this is for @hockeylvr59​! the entire idea was amazing to bring to life and i hope you love it! the title comes from taylor swift’s “everything has changed” which also fits the vibe of this fic perfectly

warnings: brief mentions of childbirth and blood, side character death. if i missed anything else, please let me know!

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 7.4k

~~~~~

Out of all the titles and accomplishments that can be attached to Cale Makar’s name, being a father is the one he is most proud of. But it’s days like today that he’s unfortunately reminded of how life doesn’t always go to plan no matter who you are.

His daughter is starting preschool today. Cale’s little baby girl has grown so much over the years, but this big moment in their lives is proof that time is moving too quickly. And on top of those emotions, she’s starting school without her mom here. A reminder that Cale wishes he could change with every single passing day.

He’s currently standing at the stove making Maisy’s favorite breakfast, chocolate chip and sprinkle pancakes, when all the memories rush back unwelcome on what’s meant to be a happy morning for the father and daughter.

Cale never expected this to be his life at 23. But after being asked to join the Avalanche in the middle of their 2019 playoff run, he left behind his college years and became a professional athlete in the blink of an eye. It just so happened the Avs were playing the Flames which meant Cale was heading home in an odd way. And somehow, in all the craziness of that time in his life, he reconnected with Beatrice.

Beatrice who he went to high school with and remained one of his best friends when hockey started taking over his life. Beatrice who was so happy to see him back in Calgary even if only for a short period of time. Beatrice who made the first move when the Avs got eliminated and made the two of them official.

Everything had been a whirlwind to Cale, but reconnecting with Bea was incredible. For the entirety of the offseason, their relationship was happy and full of love. It was all he could ever ask for. But as the next season approached and Cale received word that he would be returning to the team permanently, things began to shift.

The time for training, meetings, moving from one country to another permanently, and all the other requirements of playing in the NHL started to take a toll on them. Cale couldn’t stop the inevitable, so before he flew to Denver for training camp, he gently suggested that they break up and remain friends. Because after all this time, he didn’t want her to disappear from his life.

And life went on. The season started and Cale was off to a phenomenal start as a rookie which continued to stun anyone watching him play. Bea reached out frequently enough whether with a simple text or phone call. Life was good.

Then, Beatrice called that November. 

The words she said all made perfect sense, but Cale couldn’t comprehend anything. Pregnant, it’s his, what are they going to do, unexpected. The world came to a screeching halt all at once. And from that moment on, his life was changed forever. 

He was going to be a dad.

Despite the fact that he and Beatrice broke up, Cale insisted on being there for her during the entire pregnancy because that’s what good friends do when they’re expecting together. He wanted to help with anything he possibly could so he did. Doctor appointments, shopping for the necessities, taking care of Bea when he wasn’t on the road. It wasn’t easy to balance both his rookie season and the preparation of having a baby, but Cale found himself getting more and more excited with each passing day.

The day his little girl arrived in the world was full of more emotions than Cale thought possible. Bea’s labor was seemingly going well, not too long and not that painful, and he was there for every step of the way. Cale was in awe more than anything of Bea and the fact that their baby girl was finally here, but before either of them could soak in the moment, chaos broke out.

The next thing Cale remembers is the nurse telling him she has to push through the afterbirth. They were both terrified, but his heart dropped the second the machines started beeping and Bea began to lose consciousness. He was immediately rushed out of the room so the doctors could help, but when the nurse approached him again with a look of despair, all he heard were the words complications with delivery and severe blood loss. Bea unfortunately didn’t make it. She was gone. There was hardly any time to process the devastating news before the nurse asked if he would finally like to meet his baby. His little girl.

With tears in his eyes, Cale nodded and followed the nurse back to the nursery. The moment she was placed in Cale’s arms, he felt his heart burst and tears roll down his cheeks. Everything he will ever do will be for her, he swears right then and there.

“Do you have a name for her?” The nurse asked quietly, not following the question with a further explanation. It dawns on him then that this decision, and everything else going forward, will be completely up to him. He’s on his own.

“Maisy. Maisy Beatrice Makar.” Cale replied, trying to keep his emotions in check. The baby girl, Maisy, wrapped one of her tiny hands around Cale’s pointer finger as if in approval of her carefully selected name. Maisy was the one both Cale and Bea had picked out in advance, but there was no doubt about making his daughter’s middle name the one that belonged to her mom. It had to be.

From then on, it’s been Cale and Maisy against the world. Of course, they both miss Bea in different ways that almost no one understands, but Cale couldn’t be anymore grateful for the help he’s received over the last four years from friends, family and teammates. They say it takes a village and Cale is the first to second that statement.

Now, he’s just won the Stanley Cup, his lifelong dream, along with the Norris and Conn Smythe. Celebrating and making the most of riding out the high this huge victory provided has been nothing short of incredible. The happiness he’s felt since the Avs became champs is like nothing else in the entire world. And through the entire season, from start to finish, Maisy has been there. The win meant just as much to her as it did for him.

Except Cale thinks that her first day at preschool might be even more exciting considering how she hasn’t stopped talking about it practically all summer.

“Daddy! I lost my shoes!” Maisy’s voice breaks Cale out of his trance where he’s reliving the good and painful memories. No matter how badly he wishes that Beatrice was here to see Maisy on such an important day, she isn’t, and he’s going to make sure his little girl knows her mom would be insanely proud of her like always.

With a glance over his shoulder, he spots Maisy’s favorite pair of sparkly Converse by the door. “By the door, sweetie!” He calls back, plating the pancakes before turning around towards the kitchen island. His eyes find the flash of blonde hair passing through the room in mere seconds as Maisy runs to get her shoes. 

Before he knows it, Maisy is crawling up onto a stool at the counter and giving Cale her biggest smile. Even after all this time, Cale’s overwhelmed with emotions looking at his daughter. She’s beautiful. Identical clear blue eyes like his which shine beneath her pink framed glasses, curly blonde hair that just reaches her shoulders now, a sweet smile that reminds him so much of Beatrice’s. He adores her and can’t believe how much she’s already grown.

“Chocolate chip and sprinkle pancakes! My favorite!” Maisy exclaims when she sees the full plate at her seat. “Will you help me put my shoes on and do my hair after we eat?” She asks adorably, attention never faltering from her father.

“Absolutely I can do that. Are you sure you want to wear your jersey to the first day of preschool though?” Cale smiles as he sits next to her and they start eating breakfast together. He couldn’t miss the signature burgundy and blue that adorned the top half of her body when she came down the stairs moments ago. Maisy cherishes her Stanley Cup playoffs Makar jersey over all her others now and it seems to be her outfit choice to start school.

“Mhm! I love my jersey and it’ll be like having you at school with me in a funny way.” Maisy replies with a definitive nod. Cale can’t argue with her and as long as she’s happy, he’s happy so he just smiles while love rushes through him.

Maisy pushes her breakfast plate away from her only a few minutes later, stating that she’s full and needs help with finishing getting ready. Cale kneels down to tie her shoes before getting to work on her hair. Of course, she picked out a matching bow to go with her jersey and Cale can’t help but chuckle as he tries to wrangle in her unruly curls.

It’s only when Maisy is distractedly humming to herself while her dad puts the bow in her hair that Cale spills the big surprise.

“Maisy?” He asks, earning a soft response from the little girl. “I know you’re really excited for your first day of preschool and so am I. And even though Mommy isn’t here today, she left me something a long time ago to give you. Is that okay?”

“From Mommy?” Maisy’s voice is so quiet that Cale’s heart almost breaks. It’s not like they don’t talk about Beatrice, it’s just hard for both of them for different reasons. Maisy never got the chance to know her. She doesn’t have any memories, only the stories that Cale has told her while he feels the direct pain of the loss for both him and their daughter. Cale nods, tying her bow in place before facing her. “Can we open it together before we go to school?”

“That sounds like a great plan. Stay right here, okay?” 

When Cale returns only a few minutes later with a small box in hand, Maisy’s head tilts in curiosity, but she waits until her father speaks again. 

“When you were in Mommy’s tummy, she decided to write you a letter for the first day of school for each year. Because today is the first day of preschool, we can open the first letter.” Cale explains softly, kissing the top of her head as he picks up a pink envelope in the front of the box and lets Maisy open it.

“Dear Maisy,” She starts reading with a smile until her brows furrow in confusion and she looks back up at Cale. “Read for me, please?” 

“Dear Maisy, it’s your first day of preschool! I’m so proud of you. I hope you have your favorite outfit picked out and all the best snacks in your lunchbox. This is a really big moment! I can’t believe you’ve grown so much and I just know you’re the most resilient, funny and bright little girl in the entire world. Daddy and I are so lucky to have you. Go make some friends, have fun and I’m wishing you the best first day ever! Love, Mommy.” Cale reads Beatrice’s handwritten words from the small card. 

He doesn’t notice the tears in his own eyes until he’s wiping away Maisy’s and pulling her in for a hug. A comfortable silence settles around them for a moment, but it isn’t long before Maisy’s voice fills the air once more.

“Don’t worry, Daddy. I know Mommy is with me right here,” She puts a little hand over her heart, “and that makes today even more special. I think I’m ready to go to school now.” Maisy tucks the paper in the envelope again before tugging on Cale’s hand. She puts the letter in the safest place within her backpack to have with her throughout the day and the two of them finish up their morning routine. The heavy emotions subside only to be replaced with happiness that Cale feels with each passing second.

It is Maisy’s first day of school after all. 

~~~~~

That cannot be her. 

The last time Cale saw Maia, they were sitting next to each other in their sophomore statistics class at UMass the day before he left for Colorado. He hasn’t seen her since. Through Instagram, he knows that she graduated summa cum laude last year and got her dream teaching job for the following fall. But other than that, she has been someone stuck in his past that he wishes he had more time with before his college career got cut short because of hockey. 

Except at this very moment, she’s standing right in front of him and his daughter at her new preschool welcoming each of the children that will presumably be her students.

Ohmygod.

Gabe, ever observant, notices the longing and surprised look on his teammate’s face and elbows Cale just enough to grab his attention again. Maisy’s arms are wrapped around one of Cale’s legs as she takes in the scene around her. It’s easy to tell that she’s nervous, scared and shy all at once, her earlier excitement seemingly having disappeared for the moment. Linnea, on the other hand, is happily bouncing next to Gabe and Cale feels grateful for the millionth time that Maisy won’t be alone today because she has such a good friend in his captain’s daughter.

“Who is she?” Gabe asks, not dancing around the subject at all. Cale tries to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as he drops a hand to Maisy’s head knowing the simple touch will keep her calm until he can talk to her.

“Who?” Cale decides to play dumb, hoping to get Gabe off the topic but it doesn’t work. He gets a level stare instead. “Maia. We went to UMass together and I had the biggest crush on her. We shared a lot of classes and hung out a lot because of that, but I never acted on anything since I wasn’t sure if she felt the same way. I haven’t seen her since I left to join the team.” He admits, awaiting some kind of reaction to the shortened story he just recounted.

“Well, judging by the look on your face you wish you did something about it then. Universe works in funny ways, Cale. Give it some time. You know she’s here now and considering she’s your daughter’s preschool teacher, I’m sure there won’t be a shortage of opportunities to talk to her.”

“I don’t even know if she remembers me, Gabe.”

With one glance back towards the woman standing near the school’s entrance, Gabe catches her eyes flickering over to where the two hockey players are standing. It’s almost impossible to miss the split second change of emotions on display across her facial features when she looks at Cale. 

“I highly doubt that.” Gabe responds, patting Cale on the shoulder and offering a genuine smile before kneeling down to talk to Linnea. 

“Daddy?” Maisy speaks up softly, tugging at his hand and looking up at him with her big blue eyes. Cale’s heart just about melts at the sight. 

“How are you feeling, Maise?” Cale asks, putting himself on the little girl’s level. She offers him a shy smile and then hugs her father tightly for a moment. He holds her close, letting her revel in the comfort of the embrace until she’s ready to say anything more.

“I’m scared. There’s a lot of kids and I only know Lala.” Maisy admits with a small waver in her voice giving away her emotions.

“There are a lot of kids here, but you’ll have Linnea to play with and I know you’ll make so many new friends. I saw a girl with an Avalanche keychain on her backpack over there and a boy who had the same coloring book you love at home.” “Really?” Maisy says with that familiar gleam of hope. Cale only nods in response, kissing her forehead which earns him a tiny giggle. A sound he’ll never get tired of hearing. 

“Really. You’ll have so much fun today and I can’t wait to hear all about it.”  That seems to ease some of Maisy’s anxiety about such a big change, but he knows another question is going to follow behind so he patiently waits.

“Will we have snacktime? You packed my Teddy Grahams right?” Before Cale can answer that, yes there will be snacktime and of course he packed her Teddy Grahams, a soft female voice cuts in surprising both of the Makars.

“Snacktime is right after coloring so you’ll be able to eat your Teddy Grahams. What kind is your favorite?” 

“The honey ones!” Maisy perks right up, turning right back into the happy and adorable girl that Cale knows so well. She leans right into Cale who keeps her close, but everything seems to disappear the moment he looks up at who is currently talking to his daughter.

Maia.

“Me too! Those are the best.” Maisy giggles at that, filling the air with joy just from the simple sound. And if Cale wasn’t so focused on the woman crouching down in front of them, he would’ve chuckled along too. Instead his heart is racing and he can’t form one coherent thought because after all this time, she’s right here again. The one who got away. 

Her wavy hair is a little longer and darker than it was in college and her eyes are still so bright. Cale can’t help but notice how her curves have filled out since the last time he saw her and the pretty clementine print dress she’s wearing highlights that, taking his breath away. He’s in awe of how beautiful she is like he always has been.

“I’m Ms. Webber, your preschool teacher. What’s your name?”

“Maisy!” 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Maisy. I love your name.” Maia responds, smiling fondly at the little girl who is already melting her heart. 

“Thank you. It was picked out special for me.” She says, voice quiet with shyness but Cale can tell she’s slowly warming up to the idea of school once again. “This is Daddy! He plays hockey here. Did you know that?” Maisy continues, squeezing Cale’s arm and that’s when Maia’s gaze falls to the little girl’s father.

It is him.

Cale Makar.

When Maia received her class list at the beginning of the summer, she picked out the last name within seconds. Makar is pretty much a household name in Denver now so it wasn’t easy to overlook, but more importantly, it still belonged to the man who has held her heart since the day they first met. She tried to not get her hopes up because how could he have a daughter entering preschool at this very moment in time? Yet, here he is with that exact little girl who’s name was on her roster and looks just like her father. Not to mention, she’s full of sunshine.

“I had no idea. That’s so cool! This must be his jersey then, huh?” Maia asks, keeping the conversation going with Maisy but her eyes drift to Cale and it feels as if her heart stops right then and there. He looks almost exactly as she remembers him, maybe a little more muscular and older, but other than that he looks like the Cale she knew in college. Glasses and all. She can’t believe it.

“Well, that’s his name and number, but this is my jersey.” Maisy exclaims with a laugh and the way Cale looks at his daughter is the purest form of love that Maia has ever seen. Before anything else could be said, the school bell rings and the kids begin departing from their parents. Maia politely excuses herself to join her colleagues for the day as Maisy collapses into Cale’s arms for one last hug.

“Have a great first day, Maise. You’ll have lots of fun. I love you so much.” Cale murmurs into her blonde hair, trying to hold back the surge of emotions that have arisen in the moment. 

“I love you too. I’ll have lots of fun so I can tell you about it later. Bye, Daddy!” Maisy leans up to kiss his cheek and Cale can’t help but hold onto her for just a moment longer.

There’s an unfamiliar pressure evident in Maia’s chest as she watches the father and daughter hold each other in the tightest hug before Maisy falls into step with a girl she must be friends with and together they walk backwards, Maisy waving to Cale the whole way to the door.

It’s going to be an interesting school year.

~~~~~

“Alright, Maisy. Are you getting your usual pizza today or something different?” Cale asks, looking down at his daughter who is holding his hand and bouncing with excitement. The father daughter pizza dates on Friday nights have become a staple in the Makar household and even if Cale’s on the road, they make time for this exact tradition no matter what. 

“Mmm, my usual!” Maisy pipes up in response with a bright smile.

“Okay, go get your favorite seat and I’ll order.” Maisy nods quickly and skips off to the table they always sit at whenever they come to Proto’s Pizza. This particular pizza place is not only Maisy’s favorite, but it was also Beatrice’s whenever she used to come see Cale in Denver. It’s one way that her mom’s memory is kept alive through a simple act even if the cute restaurant has a new meaning to both of them now too.

Cale watches to make sure Maisy settles at the table with her coloring book before stepping up to the counter to order. Two Hawaiian slices for him and two plain for Maisy. The exchange with the cashier is almost exactly the same since he’s a regular here now, but as he moves towards the pick up area, Cale’s eyes spot the familiar brunette waves of not only his daughter’s preschool teacher but the girl he still carries an immense amount of love for.

Maia. 

He hasn’t really seen her since Maisy’s first day of school almost two months ago. Of course she’s there at drop off and pick up, but it’s nothing more than about five minutes and Cale doesn’t know how to start a conversation that isn’t awkward because of all the time they’ve missed. But he wants her back in his life and so far, just Maisy’s teacher isn’t enough.

She’s reading something on her phone when Cale sidles up next to her. With one glance back to make sure Maisy is okay, which she is, he takes a moment to admire how pretty Maia looks in jeans that hug her curves and how she looks more relaxed than she is at school everyday. 

And then he takes that leap of faith. 

“Are you still ordering your half veggie half meat lovers pizza?” The question leaves Cale’s lips, a teasing tone evident in every word he says. Maia’s head snaps up at the sound of his voice, a look of utter disbelief on display across her face.

“Still a better choice than your beloved Hawaiian, Makar.” Maia fires back with that playfulness she always had around him. In that split second, their eyes lock, every memory from college comes rushing back and she suddenly finds herself nervous more than anything. Maia’s heart is racing with anticipation and she knows things have changed since the two of them were themselves, but she can’t stop the sense of familiarity that surrounds her as the conversation unfolds. They’ve had the same argument a million times so it’s easy to slip back into even if their lives are not the same. “Sorry, I mean, it’s still a great choice, but-”

“Not your favorite, I know.” Cale finishes, offering a kind smile to help ease the obvious tension she’s feeling. “It wasn’t then and I can’t imagine that’s changed over the years.” He teases, feeling a tug on his heart when thinking about what they shared at UMass.

“I’m more surprised you remember my go-to order honestly.” 

“How could I forget? Every study date, late night snack and pizza craving you ever had was always half veggie half meat lovers. I’ll remember that order forever.” Cale admits with a chuckle, warming Maia’s heart in mere seconds. It almost feels as if no time has passed at all and they’re still those two kids just trying to get their degrees while figuring out life along the way. 

Except, they aren’t and time has passed. A reminder that strikes Maia as the comfortable silence settles between them.

“Where’s your little one?” 

“Oh,” Cale starts, momentarily forgetting that they’re currently in Proto's, not the dining hall on campus. “Maisy’s at our usual table coloring until our order is ready.” Maia looks towards where he tilts his head, spotting the curly blonde hair that belongs to one of her favorite students.

“She’s just like you. You know that?” Maia asks, surprising even herself at letting the observation slip past her lips. But it’s the truth. Everyday at preschool, she sees more and more of her father in Maisy and the emotions she thought were long gone have risen to the surface over the last two months. 

“That’s what people tell me.” Cale replies, cheeks flushing pink as he scratches the back of his neck. He looks absolutely adorable and Maia can’t help but grin at the sight of him.

“She’s really lucky to have you. And we have plenty to catch up on already, but I would love to hear the story about how she got here.” Maia says softly, gaze flickering back to Maisy who is lost in her own world while coloring away.

Before Cale can do anything else but nod in response, both of their orders are ready. Maia steps forward to grab her pizza box, sparks flying when she brushes past Cale. Almost repeating her actions, he finally finds his voice again. 

“Keep that catching up date in mind. There’s more to cover than you think.” 

“Okay, Makar. We’ll do that soon. Until then, I’ll see you at school with Maisy. Enjoy your Hawaiian pizza, weirdo.”

“Make sure you eat the veggie slices first, Webber.” And just like that, with a small wave and a smile that could rival the sun, Maia heads toward the door. Cale snaps out of his little trance in seconds, bringing the pizza back to the table where his too curious daughter is waiting with lots of questions.

“You and Ms. Webber are friends?” Maisy says immediately as Cale sits down across from her and she forgets about the coloring book she was just working on. Her voice is full of what sounds like hope mixed with peaked interest. 

“She’s actually an old friend of mine from college. We used to do almost everything together before I left to play hockey here.” Cale explains with a grin, his heart swelling like it always does at the thought or mention of Maia. The girl he loved then and never thought he’d have another chance with. “And then we went to your first day of preschool and I found out she’s your teacher!” 

“Oh!” The little girl exclaims as she digs into her pizza. Cale chuckles at her reaction, but it isn’t long before Maisy keeps up her questioning. “Were you best friends? What did you do together?”

The innocent words hang in the hang for a moment. Despite their time being cut short due to Cale’s call up to the NHL, there are countless memories to recall of everything he did with Maia. So without any hesitation, Cale tells his daughter almost everything. About how they met, the way they became instant friends, how when they hung out time felt as if it didn’t exist, the late nights after his games, studying together in the back of the library. There’s so much history and although none of the almost’s slip through his story, the almost kiss, the almost confession of feelings, the almost being something more, Cale longs to change that now.

“I’m going to tell Ms. Webber tomorrow that she knows a famous hockey player. And my daddy!” Maisy exclaims after listening intently. Her blue eyes are alight with joy, a sight that makes her father smile like nothing else. 

“You do that, Maise.” As the two go back to chatting about much simpler things, Cale’s mind wanders through every possibility. He would be stupid to not give them another shot, but he has no idea if those lingering feelings still exist for Maia or if they even existed in the first place. 

That, Cale decides, is step one.

And he knows just the person to ask for advice on how to win a woman’s heart.

~~~~~

Gabe, unfortunately, beats him to the punch. 

It’s a chilly November morning and as Linnea and Maisy reach for each other’s hands to walk into the preschool building together after saying goodbye to their fathers, Gabe voices the question that makes Cale freeze.

“So when are you gonna make a move, Caler?” Gabe teases, lightly elbowing his teammate and Cale’s cheeks become rosier by the second. 

“I-uh, was actually going to ask you about that.” 

“Me? Not EJ or even Devon? It’s an honor.”

“Shut up. EJ would make the whole thing a spectacle and Devon would probably be shocked that I even know how to talk to girls. You’re my best bet. And it’s not a big deal.” Cale replies, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and tries to ignore how embarrassing this is. He’s 23 years old and is asking for advice on how to get the girl. 

He’s won the Stanley Cup and is one of the most distinguished hockey players in the league this early in his career. But talking to one person who’s held his heart for years? That’s impossible.

“Okay, well what are you thinking?” Gabe prompts, eyes remaining on the girls as they say hi to their teacher before disappearing into the building. 

“I don’t even know if she was into me back in college, Gabe. Like I can’t make a move thinking she feels the same way when it’s been years since we last saw each other and I wasn’t sure of her feelings then.” 

“You have to figure out where you stand then.” Cale’s brows furrow in confusion, but his captain continues speaking. “By the way things seem between the two of you, she definitely feels the same way. But I think she’s unsure more than ever. You do have a kid in her preschool class and she might think someone else is in your life.”

“There isn’t.” “Maia doesn’t know that. Does she?” Cale shook his head, the realization dawning on him right then. Since Maisy’s first day of school, there’s been that distance between them. The flirting and comfortableness has returned in their brief exchanges, but not like it used to be. And maybe it’s because Maia thinks Cale’s committed to Maisy’s mom since she doesn’t know the whole story.

“I have to fill her in.” 

“Exactly. And I’m sure once everything is clear, you’ll both be able to admit how you feel to each other. Finally.” Gabe says with a reassuring nod, a smile creeping back onto his face. “You’re growing up so fast. Cale Makar is going to get the girl!”

“Shush! Don’t jinx anything. Nothing’s guaranteed so don’t get your hopes up. I just have to find a moment where I can tell her everything.” Cale settes, brain already racing to find a solution to that problem.

The answer comes not even days later when Maisy hands him a paper about parent teacher conferences. The meeting is used to discuss the progress of each child in class with their parents or guardians. Cale selects a time and date for the following week before making sure to tuck the paper into Maisy’s backpack so she can hand it in the next day.

And even as Maisy rambles on excitedly that night about how she met a friend who loves horses just like Uncle EJ, Cale is stuck on the fact that he’s going to have a designated time alone with just Maia. This is what he needs to finally move their relationship out of the friendzone after all this time.

But this is Maisy’s teacher he’s talking about. Maia isn’t just someone he knows and loves anymore. She’s important to his daughter too now for other reasons. He can’t overlook or forget that. And that means if this doesn’t go as planned, the hurt and awkwardness will be felt by more than just the two of them.

By time the day of the meeting rolls around, Cale is trying to desperately focus on how this is supposed to be about Maisy. The little girl who already owns his heart. It’s constant reminders of how although this is the perfect opportunity, he won’t get distracted by what’s actually at hand: his daughter’s wellbeing. 

After dropping Maisy off to spend the afternoon with Nate, who was more than happy to spend time with the much cuter Makar as he says, Cale drove over to the school. The trip seems quicker than usual because before he knows it, Maia is welcoming him into the little classroom that’s colorfully decorated.

“Hi Cale.” Maia greets, her soft smile lighting up her face and Cale feels his heart swell with adoration. “Thank you so much for coming in today.”

“Hi,” Cale murmurs with a nod of acknowledgement, suddenly becoming the shy person he usually is when meeting others for the first time. “Your classroom is really cute. Decorate it yourself?” 

“I did! It’s my second year teaching so I figured out what worked best last year and made this little space my dream classroom.” Cale’s gaze moves around the room, taking in every little detail about where his little girl spends part of her days now. He sees Maia’s desk in one corner, neatly organized, hand paintings from the class taped up on one wall, different signs hanging around with numbers, colors and letters on them and the small library of books nestled in the reading corner. A slow smile blossoms across his lips, making butterflies erupt in Maia’s stomach. 

“I love it.” Cale says simply. And he does. The whole classroom is exactly as he imagined it would’ve looked when she talked about in college.

“Thank you.” Maia replies, tucking a piece of hair behind her hair. “Let’s sit and get started.” Cale follows her to a little table on the other side of the room and takes a seat in a tiny chair made for preschoolers. He hardly fits in it, knees bending at an awkward angle, and Maia can’t help but giggle at him. Despite everything they’ve missed over the last few years, he’s still the boy she’s in love with.

“So first off, everything I have to say about Maisy today is good. She’s a wonderful student and an even more amazing little girl to her classmates in every situation. It’s clear you’ve done an excellent job raising her.” Maia begins, her warm smile and kind words melting Cale’s heart in an instant. He still isn’t used to accepting compliments about how good of a father he is even if it’s true. He just wants to be enough for Maisy. As long as she’s happy, he did his job right.

“Thank you so much.”

“Oh, of course! There’s plenty more praise for Maisy coming throughout this meeting.” She laughs, the beautiful sound bringing a sense of happiness to Cale that he hasn’t experienced in quite some time. And he can tell Maia feels it too. “Maisy is also ahead of her classmates in several areas of her education. She’s got her ABC’s down and can write her name, her basic math skills are off the charts and she has a pretty good grasp on recognizing words which is great for how young she is.” 

“Oh, really? That’s good to hear. I was worried we hadn’t done enough at home to prepare her.” Cale admits with relief, fumbling with his fingers under the table as a small distraction. 

“Absolutely no worries there. Maisy is right on track for kindergarten and doing so well with things like reading and writing already at her age. We love seeing her here everyday. You and your partner should be so proud. You’ve raised a beautiful and incredible daughter.” 

This is his chance. Tell her the truth.

“I- uh, it’s actually just me and Maisy. But I appreciate that. It means a lot.” 

“Oh, I apologize-” 

“You can stop me if this is an inappropriate time to tell you this, but-”

Both of them stop speaking, not wanting to talk over the other. Blush spreads across Cale’s cheeks as Maia’s beautiful eyes drop down in that way which quietly shows she’s nervous. 

“Go ahead.” She almost whispers. “I know we’re here to talk about Maisy and we pretty much covered everything I had planned, but there seems to be a lot of other things we both have to say.” 

With one deep breath and a racing heart, Cale jumps into his well thought out explanation. He tells Maia about everything that’s happened since he left UMass. Meeting Bea, the tragedy of losing her but gaining his daughter at the same time, taking care of Maisy since then while still playing for the Avs. Every word comes out in a rush, but she listens to every single bit and her gaze begins to fill with hope.

“I just wanted to make it clear that there isn’t anyone else in my life. You’ve been in the dark this whole time and that didn’t feel right.” Cale concludes, feeling the weight of his confession in the air. But the reaction he gets erases every worry present in his mind.

“Cale,” Maia chuckles, her expression soft with joy. “I was honestly so shocked to see you on the first day of school even if Maisy’s name on my classlist gave it away a little bit. But I can’t help and think that us being right here, together, means something more. We never gave ourselves a real chance back in college, but now might be the time. My feelings haven’t changed,”

“Mine either.” Cale interrupts politely, voice quiet but full of emotions.

“So do you want to give this thing another go? For real this time?” The question falls off of Maia’s pink lips, but he can see she’s still unsure if this is real. He’s wondering the same thing. They’ve waited so long for each other and now here’s the opportunity they’ve been waiting for.

“For real this time.” 

~~~~~

“Family, friends and community members, I welcome you to this year’s preschool graduation.” Principal Andrews announces with a bright smile while standing at the podium that’s in front of the small crowd. “These children are on their way to kindergarten in the fall and this ceremony is to recognize the achievement they have all reached during their time in preschool.”

“Crazy you’re going to have a kindergartener soon, huh?” Maia teases, bumping her knee against Cale’s. Her fingers are intertwined with his, their hands resting in his lap.

“Don’t remind me.” He rolls his blue eyes and laughs in response.

It’s been six months since the two of them admitted their feelings to each other and started dating. Despite the fact that the Avs didn’t win the Cup this season, much to Cale and his teammates’ dismay, their relationship has only grown stronger and more incredible. Maisy couldn’t have been more thrilled even if she tried when they told her, the joy of her father finally having someone and that someone being the teacher she adores was the best news. Maia fits right into their lives like she’s always belonged there, something that makes Cale’s heart all warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

Now, it’s graduation day for the preschoolers and Cale couldn’t be happier sitting with the girl he’s always loved waiting for his daughter’s name to be announced. He presses a quick kiss to Maia’s temple before they both turn their attention back to the ceremony.

“These fifteen young, bright children have grown in so many ways over the course of this past school year. And now, many would say, they’re ready for the big leagues also known as kindergarten.” The crowd laughs along to the joke, hundreds of emotions being felt at the same time. “The teachers and myself have all cherished the time we had together with these little ones so this is just as special for us as it is for you. Without a further ado, we’ll now be presenting the students with their preschool diploma.”

All the little kids stood up in front of their chairs, the biggest smiles plastered onto each of their faces. Cale spots Maisy easily. Her curly blonde hair is pinned back on the sides and her pink glasses aren’t hard to find in a small group. She picked out her favorite dress, a sparkly blue one, just for today’s event. Watching her shuffle forward on the stage, beautiful and happy, makes Cale think about how much she’s grown up. Time has passed too quickly for his liking and seeing his little girl up there now, moving onto another monumental time in her life, strikes his heart like never before.

The sadness doesn’t stick around for long though as Maisy steps up and Principal Andrews says her name out loud.

“Maisy Beatrice Makar.”

Tears spring into Cale’s eyes while he and Maia stand to clap and cheer. Maisy walks with joy in her step across the stage, accepting a tiny diploma and waving out to Cale right afterwards. With a watery smile and his usual rosy cheeks, he waves back to her. And when Maia leans into his side as silent support, the whole moment couldn’t be any more perfect than it is.

“She did it.” Cale whispers in awe and Maia giggles softly next to him.

“She did. But it’s only preschool. You have at least three more graduations to get through.”

It’s then that the entire class stands in front of the crowd with their diplomas and the principal declares them all preschool graduates. Everyone erupts in cheers, pictures being taken from all angles and Cale is pretty sure the grin on his face will be stuck there for days. 

“Before we conclude our ceremony, it’s part of our school’s tradition to invite parents or guardians on stage for pictures and to represent who will be offering support to the students as they continue on with their education. So, those special individuals, please make your way to the front.” 

“Ready?” The question is a mumble, but Maia hears it. She nods, grabbing Cale’s hand again. Both of their hearts are beating so fast that it’s a surprise no one around hears. Together, they walk towards the stage to join Maisy who is clueless to the moment that’s about to unfold. 

“Daddy!” Maisy calls when she sees Cale come up the stairs. Her excitement is incredibly infectious, something that Maia adores about her too. “And Maia? You both came up?” She asks, obvious confusion crossing over her facial features.

“Of course. Maia is part of our family, isn’t she? We always say so.” 

“She is! Principal Andrews said parents so I only thought you would come up, Daddy, but it’s way better with Maia here too. We’re a family.” Maisy says gently, warmth in each word as she processes what this means.

“We’re a family, Maise.” Maia repeats back before kissing the top of the little girl’s head and earning a giggle. Cale watches on as pure love makes his heart swell. This is all he’s wanted for so long. The girl of his dreams and his daughter. Life couldn’t be any better. 

And later, when they’re settled at their usual table at Proto’s for Maisy’s celebratory dinner and Maia hands over her gift which of course is a copy of “Maisy Goes To School”, her personal favorite of all the Maisy Mouse books and fitting for the occasion, Cale is hit with a realization. 

No matter what happens in his life going forward, he knows something now that he didn’t before. As long as he has these two, Maia and Maisy, everything will always be okay. And that is all he will ever need.

tagging some friends/mutuals who might be interested! @tonyspep​ @starshine-hockey-girl​ @kailyn-writes​ @rosesvioletshardy​ @sorryjustafangirl​ @laurenairay​ @miracleonice87​ @hockeyunits​ @stroopwaffle8​ @musiclove-12​ @eightmakar​ @ilyasorokinn​ @barzysreputation​ @broadstflyers​ @breezymichelle99​ @comphyjost​ @ya-pucking-nerd​ @jostystyles​ @ch-ristiane​ @beauvibaby​ @sourjoonie​ @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​ @itrocksmysocks​ @tysonjost-taylorsversion​ @boqvistsbabe​ @happer08​ @antoineroussel​ @tpwkstiles​ @hockeylvr59​ @2manytabsopen​ @senditcolton​ @equallyshaw​

#cale makar #cale makar fic #cale makar imagine #cale makar blurb #summer fic exchange 2k22 #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #fluff #hwncloud #hwn cloud #colorado avalanche #cale makar x oc

[plethomacademia]

5,6,7 for the writing asks? :)

5. Which fic was your personal favourite?

I love the long fic, You have always needed abundant assistance for all the weird places it lets me go and for getting me back into writing in the first place! (It is not abandoned, I am fighting my seasonal depression, I have a draft of the next chapter, I promise to return, it's going to get weirder.) I want to say that out loud before saying my favorite is actually Duet. Duet exists for me and my bullshit need to Darcyfy Enver Gortash and if no one reads it I will be ok. I can reread that modiste scene and kick my lil feets.

6. Was there anything you wrote that was a surprise to you? Why?

Two of these. I did not expect to write anything from Orin's perspective. Then I saw a post about Orin/Dark Urge dynamics on this website and ended up crying in a Starbucks parking lot while thinking about Maeve and Orin being pitted against each other by their shared parent. Then I wrote Orin's Sister in a blur. I do not care if anyone reads it, that one was for me. I have a history of emotionally abusive parents and picking at this has been very healing for me. The second was Intimate Connection! I was never sure if I wanted to include Halsin in with my toxic elf duo. I wasn't sire how he could fit in between their co-dependent wounded nonsense or even why he would want to. Then one day I woke up and posted that I wish someone would write Astarion using the tadpole to feel their partner having sex with Halsin as a way to acclimate to the idea of a threesome.

7. What is your favourite piece of description you wrote? Why do you like it?

Oh no you asked the one I hoped no one would ask because I don't know how to write descriptions. I am a dialogue person first and foremost. If I have to look, I think my favorite is the first time Astarion connects to Maeve with the tadpole while she's getting fucked from behind by Halsin. I of course like that it is very very hot. But I think it also does what I wanted it to do, which was show how enthusiastic Astarion is but also HOW MUCH is going on. He has to take a break after this moment and I wanted it to just be full and overwhelming.

I refuse to uwu this man. At the time period in which I am writing, he has voiced clear desire and consent to reconnect to his sexuality. But I think that's a longer process than they have while they are hurtling towards the end of the game and I want that sense of overwhelm to show every time I write him in his series. But he is going to work on it because he wants to and sadly his emotional support is Maeve. Below the cut for this because it is pornography.

Astarion is not sure who reaches out with their tadpole first this time, him or Maeve, but either way they latch onto each other and then Astarion is in Maeve’s mind, seeing himself from her eyes, seeing how absolutely undone he looks and how obvious his erection is, an obscene jutting in his trousers visible even from a distance. 

Maeve filters nothing, giving Astarion full access to everything she is feeling. He had seen how large Halsin was earlier when he had presto-ed his clothes off, but it is another thing to feel the girth of it inside her, stretching and filling her much smaller body. He can feel the tightness of Halsin’s hands on Maeve’s hips and she brings forth a memory to share with him of the time that the druid’s grip on her hips had turned into the claws of a bear. 

Astarion feels as Halsin takes Maeve’s hair into one of his hands. He knows from experience that Maeve loves to be taken roughly and, above everything else, she loves to have her hair pulled while being fucked. It helps her work out stress, it helps her remember that her body belongs to her and no one else. When Halsin pulls her hair, Astarion can tell it’s not enough and he finds himself saying “Harder” at the same time that Maeve does. Halsin obliges them both, pulling her hair enough that her head is tugged back at an angle and Astarion feels the pleasure of it, the tingling pain from her scalp running down her spine straight to her cunt. 

He sees himself in Maeve’s eyes at the same time that he sees Maeve through his own, feels Halsin’s cock inside her at the same time that he feels his own cock straining against his pants placket. He hears Maeve’s loud cry from both her and his ears and can feel how close she is to coming. Then Maeve begins to imagine things, brings forth fantasies that she wants to share with him. 

#asks #writing #THANK YOU

[deusluxuria]

( Spoilers: Part 5 /Golden Wind )

( Content Notes: emotional abuse )

(This HC is based on another HC I have that Doppio and Diavolo are actually separate people, and that Trish is the daughter of Doppio and Donatella. There are also a lot of nonsensical plot holes with that but it would take too long to explain just for this one silly HC post lol)

Headcanon that the reason Bruno and his team were able to escape the San Giorgio Maggiore church was because Diavolo had brought Doppio along (since Diavolo doesn't have a Stand).

Once Doppio finally saw Trish in person, he felt an overwhelming emotional pang -- he recognized her.

He remembered that he indeed had a child fifteen years before (though, even before that, he was quietly disgusted by Diavolo's plans to kill some random girl). Doppio had actually known Trish when she was a baby and had bonded with her, but this didn't stop Diavolo from abusing and brainwashing him enough to successfully cause him to lose most of his memories of Sardinia (though much of this memory loss could certainly be blamed on the trauma of his relationship with Diavolo alone).

Doppio wanted Bruno to survive, because it was clear that Bruno was dedicated to protecting Trish beyond Diavolo's orders. A task that Doppio was in no position to do, given Diavolo had constant surveillance and control over Doppio and didn't allow him any autonomy (unless Doppio was able to trick him with King Crimson).

Fooling Diavolo in the church with King Crimson's time-perception skip (yeah I know lol) was the only way Doppio could step in and protect both Trish and Bruno without Diavolo witnessing the act of disobedience. Remaining loyal to Diavolo was the only way Doppio could continue to have the resources to protect Trish... and to stay alive.

Diavolo knew that if Doppio were to reconnect with Trish, Doppio would immediately turn against him. Doppio would find out that Diavolo had been manipulating and brainwashing him to the point where he lost his memory of Trish and Donatella.

#i have doppio brain rot i literally have his entire life fleshed out in my stupid fanfic drafts #doppio vinegar #diavolo jjba #trish una #donatella una #bruno buccellati #golden wind #vento aureo #headcanon #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba