Not all love is gentle. Sometimes it's gritty and dirty and possessive, sometimes it's not supposed to be careful or soft at all. Sometimes it feels like teeth.

Azra T.

"Well, we did it." Lucy collapsed against the seat of the old Lifeboat, her stomach still churning from the movement. The headache was fading as she took deep breaths of air. She never suspected she'd would be grateful to get back to the complete hell hole that was their life but now it was a relief not to feel as if her head was going to explode.
"Let's see if it worked." Wyatt unbuckled his seat belt and said after a moment, "This old tin can sure seems rickety."
"It is," Lucy said. She and Wyatt hated each other. That is what she always told herself. Because it was easier to say she hated him than to admit that if she hated him she hated herself more. She could see the look of disgust on her past self's face. The pain on her face as she'd thrown her the journal and ordered her to solve things with Wyatt. Not communicating had gotten them to this place. Barely able to speak to each other. So full of pain and hatred they could barely stand the sight of each other.
She glanced over at him as the door of the Lifeboat rolled open to reveal the same dismal scene they'd left. The same warehouse which had been their home for months. "Well, I guess we see if it works," Wyatt said quietly.
"If it works we'll be erased. This version of us will have never existed." Lucy reminds him.
"God, that would be wonderful." His eyes lit up with something like hope. Lucy's heart softened in spite of herself.
"It sure would." She added.
Her body felt rung out from the jump and she knew she couldn't take too many more of them. There had been the jump to retrieve the journal. The jump to Chinatown to change things. The jump to Sao Paulo. And now breaking the rules of time travel to speak to their past selves. A really terrible idea but they were desperate.
She was startled when Wyatt helped her down from the Lifeboat. He'd come to accept that she was just as capable a fighter as he. He never babied her. It was one of the things she appreciated from him. This time his helping didn't annoy her. Sometimes a tiny part of her wanted to be taken care of. A tiny part of her wanted the old things she'd run away from.
She was even more surprised when he placed a cup of water in her hands. Water was scarce after the nuclear explosion but he'd wasted some of their precious water in getting her a cup and a wet rag. Sighing heavily she patted her face. Could she ever imagine a time when she'd be grateful for tepid water and a wet rag?
"God, we looked so young and innocent back there. Like children." She sighed. It was unfair how much she wanted to be that Lucy. That Lucy who still looked sweet. Who hadn't stained her hands with so much blood? Even Wyatt looked so ridiculously young and innocent. She was still angry at that version of Wyatt but he hadn't gone running after Jessica and her "baby" for years on end.
"Yeah, it's all before we screw up our lives." He said bitterly. Lucy would have normally made some remark that she hadn't screwed up her life but she knew it was a lie. She'd done just as much to damage them as he had. She'd consistently pushed him towards Jessica and then when it turned out she was Rittenhouse had gone running to the first person who seemed to understand. Her relationship with Flynn had been ill-advised even though Lucy had thought it hadn't been motivated by loneliness. It had seemed nice at the time. Until it hadn't. Until Flynn had called her out on her bull shit and it had blown up into a massive fight. Flynn's death a few months later had left her with the same pile of guilt Wyatt experienced when Jessica died. Then there had been the arguments over mission and strategy, perhaps the arguments which had been the hardest to overcome. Unlike the others, it was the fact that their moral code no longer seemed to be the same. Lucy had become that person in the journal she feared and despised and Wyatt despised her for being that person. She was supposed to be better than him.
"Maybe we can't change anything. Maybe this really is all fate?" She couldn't help the tears that slid down her cheeks. "Because I can't live in this world any longer. I can't handle this life."
"Neither can I."
She didn't want to hate him any longer. She didn't want to hate him at all. True he had screwed up but Lord knows so had she. And she wanted to say the words. Wanted to tell him all the things she'd never had the courage to. She wanted to apologize but the words stuck in her mouth. She wanted to wipe away all the pain of the last five years. She wanted so much that was impossible.
She glanced over at him speculatively. Then she placed the glass on the ground and stood up very slowly. Wyatt was standing there looking slightly confused as if the expression on her face was puzzling. No wonder, it was puzzling. Their gazes locked for a few seconds and then she pounced.
It was the first kiss since Hollywoodland. It was fierce and demanding and savage. It felt like the second their lips met the repressed passion she'd spent years trying to hide came roaring back, determined to be appeased. He seemed to feel the same way, the punishing plunder of his tongue against her own and the sharp stinging pain of his teeth against her lip sending sparks down her spine. She had no desire to talk about this. No desire to give herself any time to back out of it.
Relief filtered through her when he seemed to have the same idea. A moan ripped itself from her throat when those large calloused hands slipped under the hem of her paper-thin tank top and dug into her skin. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, teeth sinking into her delicate skin with a sharp pressure that made her wince deliciously. Her hands moved from his neck to his chest, sliding along to his back where she scratched down in slow punishing stripes. This was hard and dirty and unlike anything she'd ever experienced.
A few seconds later her back was against the wall and her hands were all but tearing his shirt off of his body. She saw his hands shake as he tried removing her shirt but her attempts at helping resulted in tangled fabric bunched around her arms. "Rip it." She ordered.
They no longer had the luxury of ripped clothing. But she didn't care. They'd be disappeared or dead before it would matter. The sound of tearing fabric rent the air as those powerful hands destroyed the tank in seconds. The fabric fell to the ground. Lucy remembered the gentleness of Hollywoodland. The way he'd worshipped her body like she was a goddess. Those days were long gone. Neither of them wanted gentle. They didn't know how to do gentle.
She felt his fingers unbutton her pants and shoved them and her underwear down. Her own hands reached for his buckle to do the same. A second of hesitation passed over them. There was no way either of them could pass this off as blowing off steam. They didn't do this. They hated each other. They wanted to tear each other apart.
Then again, that was what made this moment feel so hot. Lucy had never been so turned on in her life. She'd never wanted anyone the way she wanted him at this moment. Not even him way back in Hollywoodland. The look in his eyes as he stared down at her was just as possessive and dirty as her own. The second of hesitation didn't linger. She jerked his worn belt and tugged at the buttons noticing exactly how much he wanted her before she pushed them down.
His lips attached themselves to her neck just as his fingers slipped into her. A wanton moan escaped her mouth as the pressure he was using was just enough to wind her tighter but not enough to relieve the aching in her core. Her fingers dug into his back, clawing at his skin as he continued to mercilessly tease her. It was the ultimate game of chicken. Who would cave first and beg? She bit her lip and forced the moans down but was unable to stop her back from arching off the wall. He was winning this game.
In her lust drunk state, she tried reaching out to grasp him but his other hand took both her hands and pinned them to the wall. Another groan was ripped from her. She loved control, that was hardly a surprise. Right now she had no control whatsoever. And for some reason, she was fucking loving it. Her brain would probably be thinking up reasons to stop this but now she could shut off that logical part of her that told her that this was a bad idea. She'd always known his hands were strong, those hands that had fought and killed and yet were still capable of such tenderness. All those years she'd watched him at work, longing for his touch, desiring the imprint of his fingers all over her. Now, pinned in an invisible web against the wall she felt vulnerable.
He curled his fingers inside of her and she cried out again, panting as her body lingered on the brink. Just as she was feeling the prickling relief of release he let go of her hands and removed his hands from her body. She sagged weakly against the wall as she stared up at him, anger already searing through her. Was he trying to punish her?
"You bastard. God, I hate you." She seethed.
"The feeling is mutual, Babydoll." He smirked down at her. "But I have something you want."
"I don't want anything." She muttered weakly as his hands slipped under her worn bra and pinched her breasts roughly. She'd never have dreamed when she was the innocent little historian back in the old bunker that this kind of thing would be a turn on. "Besides I think I have something you want."
"Oh, you do." He replied. She braced herself as he entered her in one thrust, the impact still sending her reeling harder into the wall. This time it was he who groaned as his head rested against the wall. It took him a minute to move but when he did her body reacted just as it had in Hollywood. This was harsh and rough, a far cry from the tenderness of that moment, but it was what she wanted. It was perfectly imperfect.
"Harder." She ordered, her own body moving with each thrust, the sensation of being slammed against the wall each time sending shock waves of pain and pleasure through her. It felt so good. Her hands gripped those powerful shoulders as she dug on, nails scratching until a drop of blood formed. The sounds coming from their mouths was harsh, dirty and drenched in desire.
"Look at me." He ordered. She opened her eyes, startled at the expression in them. She hadn't seen such softness in years. This wasn't according to plan. This was supposed to be a fuck, not a tender moment. Hips slamming into hers she shut her eyes again, unable to look into his.
"We're idiots, you know." A trace of a laugh filtered through his voice as his pace slowed slightly.
"If you can talk we aren't doing a good job." She gritted out. A twist of her pelvis and clenching of her core and he was groaning and disoriented again.
Her release ripped through suddenly, for once not even needing any other stimulation. He came seconds after her, the explosions rocking through them before he untangled himself from her. Lucy's first impulse was to run the other way. She should. This wasn't something they did. They didn't have passionate, wild uninhibited sex with each other. They hated each other. They argued and fought and bickered. But god, this was exactly what she wanted. And besides, this version of them was going to be erased and replaced by the much more rational and normal versions of them.
Lucy told herself the reason she wasn't moving was that she was worn out. She closed her eyes and struggled for breath. "We're idiots, you know," Wyatt repeated.
"I agree. But what prompted that." She said dryly.
"Always chasing after other people. Never willing to admit we made a damn good team. Always fighting and screaming because neither of us was willing to admit we wanted this." His tone gave her pause. He was dead serious.
"Wyatt, we don't do this. We don't do this." Lucy repeated. "Been there, done that. It didn't work."
"We never even tried. We were too damn scared and that's why we weren't ever anything. We both went to what was safe and comfortable and familiar. Because this is fucking terrifying." Lucy almost laughed at calling Jessica or Flynn safe and comfortable. It was true though. Wyatt had gone back to Jessica over and over because he was so used to her abuse and because he was comfortable with the barbs and insults and harshness. And she'd ended up with Flynn because deep down she'd known it would never last. Because he'd been running off to chase Lorena and she'd be left high and dry. Better to invest in whatever it was than focus on what it wasn't. Love had been off the table.
"It's not like it's going to matter. This version of us won't exist much longer." Lucy murmured.
"You mean this version of you won't exist much longer. I won't exist at all." His tone was pensive and quiet. "Can't say I regret that. I deserve it."
"What are you talking about?" Lucy's hand found purchase on the wall. Panic was beginning to claw its way through her.
"I mean, when he sees what needs to be done, he'll do it," Wyatt spoke with conviction.
"Like what?" Lucy asked.
"Going back and making sure she never steps foot in that bunker." His voice dropped.
"But you'd die," Lucy said, the panic was moving to her throat. For a second she felt like throwing up.
"Duh, Lucy. This was always a one-way trip." His mocking voice troubled her. For once she saw it was a painful hint of bravado. He was terrified. She could see it in his eyes. The body language.
"What are you talking about? That wasn't the plan." Lucy said.
"It was always the plan. Who else could go back?" Wyatt said.
"I thought I'd do it," Lucy said.
He laughed. "That version of you couldn't stop a fly and you know it. Besides, do you really think he'd let you kill yourself."
Lucy swallowed hard. She hadn't thought about Wyatt dying. All she'd been focused on was Rufus. And erasing this horrible life. But she'd expected to go out of this weird timeline and be changed with him. They were always together. Even when they hated each other. Even when they were hurling insults at each other.
The idea of any timeline version of her living without any timeline version of him made her heartache. She forced her eyes open and saw the pained expression in his eyes. "God, Lucy, this way is so much better. Everyone's life is so much better off. You'll have a chance at happiness. Not this shitty place. Rufus will be alive. I'll be happier. I'd so much rather die back then that live through the last five years again."
"God, I hate you." She choked out, tears beginning to run down her cheeks as she tried to get the pain under control. She felt like dying herself which was ridiculous because she hated him. But oh god, she didn't hate him. That was why it hurt so much. Why that baby lie had felt like a knife was sticking straight into her chest. Why she wanted to tear into him every time he tried to get Jessica to stop being Rittenhouse. "Did you ever think about how I'd feel about this?"
"Relieved." He said bluntly. "I know you hate me. I deserve to die. Started this whole mess in the first place. And he knows it. It will take him a few minutes to get it and realize what he has to do. But once he gets it, he'll follow through."
"No." Lucy reached up and grabbed him by the shoulders, the force of her movements sending him reeling to the wall. "I refuse to let that happen. Fuck the future. Fuck trying to change the past. Maybe this is just meant to be."
"It's out of our hands. It will happen regardless." Wyatt's voice was provokingly calm.
"I won't let it happen." Lucy spit out the words. "You are so selfish. Did it ever occur to you how'd she'd…I'd…feel about it?"
"It will save her a whole lot of heartache," Wyatt said bitterly. "Sometimes dead is the better option."
"You're selfish. You want to just end this misery instead of actually fixing it." She reached out and slapped him across the face. "You always have run away from things with grand heroic gestures. Stealing Lifeboats to get back dead people."
"Lucy, if not me, who? There is no one but me. And that wasn't the only stupid thing I did. Trying to hack my way out of the bunker with a grinder probably took the cake."
Lucy was momentarily distracted by his words. "What are you talking about?"
"When you were gone for those six weeks with Rittenhouse. I went a little crazy trying to find you."
Lucy wondered how they'd gone five years without really talking. Perhaps seeing their younger selves, seeing the obvious care and affection they had for each other had rekindled something. Lucy blinked as a wave of tears began to prick her eyes. It shocked her he'd done something similar to what he'd done for Jessica. She knew Christopher would have thrown the book at him for trying to leave the facility with a grinder.
"There has to be another way," Lucy said. She gave up the attempt at not crying. She loved him, damn it. And she hated the fact that she did. She'd run away from that love so many times, knowing it would always end in tragedy. And it had.
"There is no other way." Wyatt's voice was suddenly so soft and gentle as his arms wrapped around her waist. "We only a few hours at the most. Why waste it on regrets?"
"We wasted so much time." Lucy sobbed. "So many lost years."
"I know." The pain deepened. With shaking hands Lucy reached up and guided his face to hers, pressing her lips to his.
This kiss was gentle and soft. "I never answered you that night," Lucy said softly. "Why didn't you try? Fight for me."
"Because I'd already given up. I thought Jessica was all I deserved. That maybe we were meant to be because we were both that fucked up. And it was my fault they turned her this way. And that baby I thought was real." He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers for a second. "I told you I was a coward."
Lucy swallowed. He'd been honest with her for the first time in years. "I thought you didn't mean it. And it made me so mad. That you'd say something like that and not back it up."
"I thought you were happier without me."
"You mean with Flynn." She challenged.
"You were happy for a while." He spoke softly. She'd known it practically killed him when he found out she was with Flynn. She'd been perversely happy he was jealous. But then he'd stepped back rapidly, barely interacting with her and certainly behaving the exact opposite of the man who'd been so jealous and angry all the time. She'd assumed he'd stopped caring. She hadn't realized he wanted her to be happy. That's why he'd backed off.
"I was," Lucy said. "But sometimes you are only meant to be with someone for a while."
"Sometimes you aren't meant to be with anyone," Wyatt said. "That lightning bolt, soulmate thing, that's bullshit. You have to make that choice. If this was fate, we'd have ended up together. We just made a lot of other decisions."
"I disagree. Fate, it kept pulling us apart. It wasn't meant to be." Lucy said.
"That's bullshit and you know it." His tone was harsh. "I was a coward. I was too much of a coward to try to win you back. To spend every waking moment trying to make all that up to you. Hell, I would have probably failed but at least I would have tried."
"You wouldn't have failed," Lucy said in a tone barely above a whisper. That version of her would have melted like wax to a flame if he'd even made an effort to show that love he'd claimed to feel. She never had believed his words, believed he was mocking her and she'd grown to hate him for it.
"Well, it's too late." The sadness was back again. "I wonder if there is something to eat besides the usual. Don't most condemned prisoners get their last meal."
The attempt at humor fell flat. "Nothing except bread. We should have stolen food while we had a chance."
"I'd kill for those cans of food and Pop Tarts," Wyatt said.
"We have so little time," Lucy said softly. It was strange that this life she so loathed was now strangely sweet. They were together at least. Even when they yelled at each other.
"And…" Wyatt asked.
"I think we shouldn't waste any more time." She said.
This kiss was aggressive again. "If you're going to die, you might as well die buried deep inside of me fucking me senseless."
"You seem to have an inflated sense of your own abilities." He murmured.
"Please," Lucy scoffed. She racked her hand down his chest, caressing his nipples and smirking up at him.
"Besides if I die this moment never happened."
"God, shut up and kiss me." She said.
He obliged eagerly the kiss quickly turned heated. This time was far less savage. There was a finality about it. Knowing this was the end. Lucy was on the verge of tears as his mouth caressed her breasts and almost lost it as he knelt in front of her. "You don't know how many times I wanted to do this." He said softly.
"Get into my pants you mean, can't say I'm surprised," Lucy said with a forced laugh.
"No. Worship you like the goddess you are." He intentionally kept his face inches away from the spot she wanted him to touch, lips lingering on her inner thighs.
"I'm not a goddess." She said impatiently.
"Goddesses aren't supposed to be perfect." He whispered. She threw back her head when his tongue finally touched her clit. She'd never been fond of the beard but it really did things for her in these moments. A stream of curses flowed through her lips as she writhed against the wall. Hands shaking she pressed them against the back of his head, pulling on the short strands of hair. It didn't take long for her release to hit, all the multi-varied sensation of his mouth doing a number on her.
"Yep, that would be a good way to go." He murmured as he stood up. Lucy wondered if he was serious but she saw the wide blown pupils and realized that really had been true.
Lucy wasn't sure what to say. She finally said, "Come on. My back is beginning to hurt."
They both had a bed in this horrible warehouse and she led him to her own. First, she stripped herself of her pants and boots and watched unashamedly as he did the same. The airless room she'd called home for months was devoid of all personal belongings. The plain bed with nothing but a comforter wasn't very sturdy to handle the onslaught of what was coming. No pun intended.
Advancing on Wyatt she said, "Lie down."
"Yes, ma'am." He gave her a cheeky smirk.
"If you'd listened to what I said you wouldn't have gotten into this mess," Lucy said. "That seems like you need a little reminding about who's boss."
He rolled his eyes. "God, you are a bossy…"
"Know it all," Lucy said. "Who knows exactly what you want."
She really didn't. The brief time they'd spent in Hollywoodland had only given her a limited amount of time to know his preferences. But she had certain suspicions. One being that he really liked when she tried controlling him. Not that he'd ever admitted it.
Eyes closed, he gritted out, "Try me."
Her hands wrapped around him, movements precise and controlled as she stroked and teased him. "Do you like this?" She moved her hands slowly, "Or this?" Her movements sped up.
"The first one." He said.
She smiled and straddled him, her face a picture of innocence. No one could be sure when the timelines changed. Was it when she used her mouth on him, studying his face with serious eyes or when she was clenched around him, eyes closed as she fought fate with the same restless determination she'd once fought him? But if the timelines should be changed, this was the place she'd be.

Author's Note: This fic came about from a Twitter DM where I was complaining about the futures hating each other. I then thought about a smutty hate sex fic and this is the result. It turned out a lot more emotional and angsty than I expected. I realized that most likely Future Wyatt expected his past self to go back and prevent Jessica from entering the bunker and therefore killing himself in the process. Lucy's past self wouldn't have been able to do it. And we know the writers specifically said Lucy never dreamed Flynn would go. I think Future Lucy never really examined who would go and when she realizes Wyatt will die to save Rufus she realizes that she really did love him. (I didn't have her say it. I think this version of her wouldn't.) This is way more explicit than I normally write but I feel like it suits this version of the characters. It ended up working for Lyatt Week anyway.
I will definitely be writing a part two from the perspective of our happy Future Lyatt from the movie. As sad as I am this version was so antagonistic towards each other I'm really enjoying how all the aggression makes it so easy to write something so smutty. Also it's now my personal headcanon as to how they spent the time before the timelines changed. I mean there is no canonical proof they didn't.