#HELP IDK WHAT IM DOING

[littledes1re]

Neighbours help

Pairing: Neighbour!Joel Miller x Fem!reader

Summery: when your Fridge breaks down in the middle of the day, what can you do other than ask your grumpy old Neighbour to fix it? aka thigh riding🫠

Warnings: 18+, praise kink, pet names, teasing, fingering, slight overstimulation, thigh riding, MEAN!joel, but a softie at the end, big age gap! (reader is 25-26/ joel is 60), kinda naive!reader, Dom/sub undertones, somewhat pervy!joel, mocking, joel embarrasses reader, reader get’s called dumb little girl twice, reader is really sensitive and cries in this, slight darcyphilia

A/N: I know nothing about repairing fridges y‘all. Also english is not my first language, feedback is very much appreciated. First time writing a bigger fic piece, bare with me please😭

Watching your neighbour sit down on your table after trying to fix the fridge in your apartment. His reading glasses on, looking trough the little instructions book that came with your fridge, a grumpy huff leaves his mouth. Your eyes fall to his white scruffy mustache and beard and then to his slicked back hair.

He looked so old— he was old.

Too old for you to sit there and stare at him while clenching your tights. But could you blame yourself? Grumpy face, pinched eyebrows, that tall and big build, his big biceps (you saw him once in a tight shirt in summer and your breath hitched), his ability to take everything into his hands and the stern demanding personality.

„What‘cha staring at, girl.“ he grumbled, clearly annoyed, his brown eyes landing on you.

Well, one contra point was, that he was so mean to you. Always rolling his eyes, a sigh leaving his lips, seeing you in the floor to your apartment, always having something rude to say even if it‘s mumbled under his breath. Always so impatient, never saying thank you and thinking he knows everything better than you. You tried your best to be nice and friendly to him, but he just didn‘t want you around, grumpy, irritated and so god damn—

„cat got‘ya tongue?“

You came back to your senses, realising you just have been staring at him like a fish out of water, mouth gaped and focused just on one spot. A little breath left your mouth, then a cough. Trying your best to be annoyed with him, you rolled your eyes.

„N-no. I‘m just waiting for you to finally do my fridge“ putting an attitude, but failing miserably because you were so so nervous around him.

„Can just leave, whenever I want y‘know…“ he starts „leaving you there with your rotten food in your fridge because we both know you can‘t fix it yourself, didn‘t even try it yourself, before coming up to my door bein‘ all ‚joel this‘ ‚joel that‘“

Oh he sounds so annoyed. But you can‘t help but feel more turned on than you already are, just the way he mocks you and knows that you can‘t talk back at him because you need your fridge to work again. He has a stern face on while he watches you, the little book lying on the palm of his huge hands. Your eyes slowly wander to his legs and torso, the way his lap looks so huge and so comfortable for sitting.

He coughed.

Your whole face turning red, you just wanted to crumble and roll into a ball so he didn‘t see you anymore. The worst of it all, his eyes landed on your tights and he saw the way you clenched them. There was no doubt he understood what was happening and you needed to get a grip and stop with those weird thoughts.

„Come over here and make yourself useful, c‘mon“

You stood up, your legs wobbling and the your silky short pyjama wasn‘t helping as he stared down your torso his lips forming into a little smirk, making you question his motives, scared that he will make fun of you again or worse, just straight up ask you what you want from him.

Standing besides the table you looked at him, trying your best not to look nervous and but it was all crumbling as he shifted in his seat and parted his legs just more, leaning into the chair and tapping on his thigh. Was he teasing you?

„C‘mere read this to me“ he tapped on his thigh again and your mouth dropped open. You looked at his smug face and then his thigh, not knowing that to do.

„Y‘have better eyes than me, girl“

So you moved around, holding on into his board shoulders, looking into his eyes and sat down on his lap. His hands gripping you, holding you tightly to make you sit comfortably, you moved a little bit, feeling his buldge underneath you grow. You don‘t even know what you were doing. As you comfortably sat down and grew silent, looking into his face, his eyes scanned your body, eyebrows pinching and he started…laughing.

„Dumb little girl, seeing a mans lap and immediately wanting to sit on it. Completely forgetting that I asked you to read this, huh?“‘

He held the book up, swaying it from left to right in front of you. Your face heat up again, blood rushing trough you because of what he called you. You couldn‘t help but buck your hips slightly, your panties earning a wave of gush, making him chuckle because now it was visible, your shorts were incredibly thin.

„oh i know. I know, baby. C‘mon turn around and read this f‘me will you?“ he cooed, making your shoulders drop your bottom lip turning into a pout and your inside‘s into mush. He rubbed down your back and pat slightly on to your bum, making you stand up again. Breathing heavy you stood there and looked at him, completely dumbfounded, not used to being handled like that.

He grabbed your hips again, sitting you down this time the right side, so the table was in front of you. His legs were together and you sat on top of them, your legs dangling from the sides and his head coming on your left side nuzzling into your neck, prepping few light kisses on your jaw and neck. The heat between your legs just growing more and more, feeling yourself get desperate for every touch he gives, getting dizzy at his smell and the beard tickling on your neck.

„There’s something written here in small print, my eyes not been the same the last 10 years, girl. Can make out what it says hm?“

His talking right into your ear sending shivers down your back, you wanting to just nuzzle into him more, not wanting to read and not wanting him to tease you anymore.

„mhm. S-says…—that it can happen that if too much food is in there, it can get too cold and it shuts it self down.“ you mumbled, your voice coming out small and shaky, even tho you didn‘t want it to be. Yes, he was making you feel absolutely feral but you still felt stubbornless, didn‘t wanna give in so easily but your body was betraying you. His buldge was just growing more and more against you. Pressing up into your wet panties, slowly but surely getting you off with just small movements on your clit.

Biting back a whimper, a moan, everything.

„Look at ya, can think well and do something you get told when you want it huh?“

You didn‘t answer, his hands on your body exploring your chest, rubbing circles everywhere, going down to your tummy, the warmth making you feel too much, you start to slightly move on his buldge, a whimper leaving your lips, another gush soaking your panties.

And he just laughs. Fucking laughs and goes back with his chair, suddenly removing his hands and you almost fell into the ground, holding tightly on the table, legs shaky and breathing heavily. You turn around angry, wanting to punch that smugness off his face. You felt embarrassment running trough your body, anger, but also a pulse on your clit, hating yourself for that, your body betraying you once more.

Feeling defeated you just looked at him, the fabric of your shorts now clinging with the wetness of your undies, totally visible. Tears coming up, trying your best to suppress them, that‘s what he wanted wasn‘t it? Just making fun of you for wasting his time like that, he couldn‘t stand you and you totally got off to that.

„Oh, poor baby.“ he mockingly coos, „standing there all embarrassed, with soaked panties and tears in your eyes.“

„Can y-you just go? you already did enough.“ you mumbled, deep down hoping for him not to go, to really mean it and to take care of you. But he wasn‘t that kind of man.

At least you thought so.

Suddenly his hands reached for the hem of your shorts, looking into your eyes a unexpected curiosity and genuineness. His eyebrows quirked up, like he was asking for permission, the room fell silent and he waited patiently for your answer. You could not longer take it, so you nodded your head.

His hand gripped your shorts and pulled them down, your hands coming and gripping his shoulders to balance yourself. He helped you get away from them and as you stood there with only your panties he took a good look at you, his glasses slowly sliding down the bridge of his nose as he enjoyed the sight.

„yeah, you need this“ he mumbled, suddenly thumbing at your mound over your undies, making you a whine leave you. You latch on to his shoulders just more, your shaky legs not knowing how to act as he rubs little circles on top of your clit.

„p-please. Just please“ you whimper.

„Begging an old man to take care of you, aren‘t you ashamed huh?“

You shook your head, no. Because everything was just forgotten but his fingers on your heat. He cupped your pussy, slowly sliding your underwear down, big string of sticky wetness leaving you, as you held your breath.

„God damn it, girl. Dripping like a faucet.“

Nodded your head impatiently, his gaze fixed on your pussy, while his one hand was palming himself trough his jeans.

„Just needed someone to treat her like the dumb little girl she is and she starts to absolutely gush.“

His words were spinning inside your head, the pleasure was too much to bare, you could almost feel yourself coming from his words alone, the tears and embarrassment long forgotten, you just wanted him.

„Sit down, not gonna repeat myself. That‘s all you will get“ he told you, stern, tapping on his thigh. You pouted, not liking the tone of his voice and not wanting only his thigh but his cock.

You slowly sat down on his thigh, him allowing you to get comfortable, your hands on his biceps, his hands on your waist stabilising you. After you sat down you could finally could take a good look at his face. The age spots, all those wrinkles, big puppy brown eyes and his beautiful white hair. You neared your hand to his glasses and slowly took them off, closing them and putting it on the table. His smugness was gone, but his eyebrows were still pinched, he still looked mean and grumpy.

While your juices soaked his thigh he cupped your cheek, wiping the almost dried out tears away, giving you a kiss on top of your forehead. You pouted, wanting him to kiss you on the lips, but he shook his head.

„Gonna give you something to pout about, if you don‘t stop. Y‘just need to get this little pussy off and that‘s all what i‘m gonna give you. Not want your annoying little ass anywhere near my apartment anymore, s‘that clear?“

The pout on your lip going away, a sting on your heart appears. He was just a mean man. He didn‘t want you and he still found you annoying. But that was quickly forgotten, as the pleasure was not longer to bare, you would take everything he gives you at this point.

„Uh-huh“ you nodded your head, but him noticing your disappointment also.

„Yeah, s‘a good girl.“ his hands gripped your hips, slowly but surely he started to move you on his thigh. The rough and textured jeans on your swollen pussy felt just right. You mewled; biting down on his jacket, his lips grazing on your temple „shhh, shh“ calming you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, suddenly becoming soft and sweet to you.

„please.“ you whisper, not even knowing what you are begging for.

„so desperate aren‘t ya, sweet girl. That no enough for you hm, my thigh?“ he coos, shaking your head fastly, scared that he will take away his thigh and leave you high and dry so it‘s better to just take his thigh and get off. In which he chuckled, while rubbing all over your back, your ass and stroking your hair simultaneously.

„joel..“ a whimper.

Your hips started to buck uncontrollably, chasing your high, while he helped you with his hands, holding your ass tightly, kneading it. You didn‘t had the courage to look at him, your eyes were squeezed shut as sweet little moans fell from your lips. Joel was concentrating on not to cum in his pants like a teenager, his gaze was on your face. Enjoying the way you were getting off, cheeks flushed, eyes all swollen you looked troughly fucked and he didn‘t even give you his cock. Yet.

„little pussy all rubbed raw and swollen…“ he murmed and this was all it took for you to release all over him. Gushing down his thigh, your legs shaking and moaning so loudly that joel put his hand on your head and brought you to his shoulder so you could bite down.

„That‘s it, that‘s it. Atta girl.“

You were a whimpering mess as he let you rode out your orgasm, stroking your hair and tapping his thigh.

„Was a good one, hm? Yeah that was a good one, baby.“

You mewled loudly, telling him to stop tapping with his leg on your pussy, earning a little chuckle from him, his leg slowing down.

„Too much, eh? So sensitive sweetheart.“

The room fell silent as you buried your head into his chest, small breaths leaving your mouth, his hands soothingly storking your back, noticing your sweet breaths just becoming slower and slower, knowing you fell quietly asleep on him.

Smiling to himself, his cock was stiff hard, leaking in his pants, knowing he will get off to this scene later in his room. Just like you always do, moaning his name and getting off. The wall were thin.

I think this picture with the glasses left us all in shambles✋🏻 reblogs are appreciated!! <3

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊���𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

[cringecat9]

I had a dream that I signed up for a kids version of American idiot the musical on ice and I was really excited because I know all the lyrics to Jesus of Suburbia but I didn’t know it was supposed to be on ice cuz I don’t know how to skate and the teacher didn’t like me much so my friends and I snuck out and went out to lunch. After that we went to like a combo of a drugstore and a Michael’s. Then we went home and I told mom I wanna quit because idk how to skate so we did

   And then my childhood mailman challenged us to a cookoff where we had to use RAO’s branded sauce but we declined and he got pissed

   We also passed this really weird hibachi restaurant where I got a glass of water but I think I might’ve stole it because it was like $30 and I didn’t pay????

what the fuck is up with my brain

edit: I made a visual

[visarray]

Wip 🌿🌙

[thesilvertheorist]

• unprofessional •

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Fic summary: [set in s4] Five is forced to go into mandatory active therapy in order to ensure that he can perform well at the CIA, he finds himself opposite a young lady (21+ ish) who's taken him on as her first client. Five is resistant at first but soon begins to develop ALL kinds of feelings for this woman.

Warnings/tags: ptsd related traumas, flashbacks, self harm, self loathing, resistance to help, attitude, scandalous age gap (five is mentally 60+, body of a 21 year old), developing feelings, inappropriate relationship, unprofessional relationship, anguish, angst, sexually explicit content, mdni, stalker!five, reader should really contact the authorities in all honesty.

you have been warned

Masterlist

CHAPTER ONE

[3.7k words]

Hargreeves’ new world is certainly one of oddities. It’s almost identical to the world that Five and his siblings grew up in only, in this timeline, this version of his adoptive father owned essentially every active corporation all over the globe. A weird concept, but not one that is necessarily that farfetched. The basic premise of this timeline functioned exactly the same as all the others that Five knew: linear time (seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years, decade after tedious decade), people going about their daily lives (bills and taxes to pay), and – of course, there’s the ever-present need to create family and community. Although, and this is the kicker, he’s been stripped of his powers. Every Hargreeves’ sibling had been.

Five had presumed that the loss of their powers was the price of a new life… that Luther losing Sloane was the price that Allison paid by proxy to get Claire back. Screwed up, but it’s the most logical answer considering they were energetically glued to stars on the floor in a universal mainframe fighting for their lives not too long ago.

As his siblings dispersed upon realising the situation, Five was left alone yet again, wondering what the hell he was going to do with his vacant being and lack of powers. His skills aren’t exactly what you’d look for when employing someone. Not to mention that his appearance doesn’t match his intellect. He was nothing short of absolutely fucked.

This rather strange situation kept Five’s mind awake for days. What exactly had happened? Why were they all here? Is this timeline a result of shutting down the last one? Is there a way to regain their powers? Do people even want their powers back? Did he want them back? Would he be able to realise that this state of helpless humanity may actually be giving him a fresh start? Was he ignoring things? Was this stupidly self-aware diatribe of crap swirling around in his head actually ungrateful screams of a thirteen year old who couldn’t prove to his father that he’d fixed what he’d broken?

It didn’t matter.

Five knew that, realistically, he’d have to start somewhere. The first thing he needed to do was secure himself a steady roof. He had no idea who’d rent to him…considering he had no money and looked like he belonged in some sort of private school for privileged arsehole boys. Oh wait. Pesky self-awareness again.

Five realised that if he couldn’t beat them, he’d have to join them. The second daylight broke the next day, he worked on getting himself a place at the closest university; he looked about that age and any required proof of braincells proved to be child’s play for his overly adapted mind. This gave him an opportunity to have a bed to sleep in whilst also allowing him to keep his brain active – even if his assignments were the equivalent intensity of doing the sudoku in the paper each morning.

Needless to say, he earned his degree quickly. He’d also acquired numerous commendations from differing scholars and academics throughout his studies which earned him an interview at the CIA. Five rationalised that, whilst he wasn’t exactly police material, the CIA was more up his alley…more dignified for a man of his age.

His interview went as well as could have been expected and Five was hired almost immediately. He’d breezed through basic training, explaining to those who were curious that his combat skills were from too many extra-curricular clubs after school and totally not from anything sinister [like being born into a family of super siblings and fighting crime at thirteen only to then be accepted into a temporal commission decades later who put field agents through intense training to prepare them to kill threats to the timeline].

He was just good at what he did and was a quick learner.

Totally.

Five’s first few months with the CIA went as any other months would do. He managed to find himself a shitty apartment and keep up the rent with whatever money he didn’t spend on outrageously expensive suits or artisan coffee. He wasn’t doing badly at all – he was even up for a promotion.

With things going so well, it came as a surprise to Five when his new supervisor insisted that he attend mandatory therapy as part of his new role within the company. He’d been advised that all higher agents have to do this – keeps them from boiling over. Five wasn’t really listening though; it was as if water had filled his ears. The last time he’d heard this bullshit was back at The Commission… only there, they forced agents into therapy to ensure they were boiling over – that their intent to kill was still active inside them.

After trying to reason with his supervisor, Five was told in no uncertain terms that he either attended the therapy or go back to his entry level basic training so he understood what ‘following orders’ meant. Pissed off and undermined, Five only nodded in response. He noted down when his appointment was: 8am Monday, 7th floor, office C.

When Monday came around, Five was more irritated than he thought he’d be. He had no clue what bullshit this, so called, therapist would come out with – and in all honesty, he wished that all therapists would just keep their traps shut. Now that would be therapeutic.

Upon arriving to work that day, Five decided that coffee was the best solution. He’d be able to respond quicker with his brain activated, and he’d be able to leave that office sooner. Perfect plan. Whilst waiting in line at the downstairs café to order his take away cup of gravelly black coffee, he couldn’t help but notice the woman in front of him.

She was young – she’d have to be a university graduate. She was well dressed in smart office kitten heels, sheer tights, a sophisticated pencil skirt, and a fitted blouse. Her hair was pinned in a claw-clip bun but she must have been in a hurry this morning because pieces had fallen out and were giving her that chic yet windswept look that only a few people could truly pull off.

As she ordered her coffee – a ‘mocha with a little bite to it’, Five noticed that the woman wasn’t carrying anything (other than the precise amount of cash to pay with) – nor did she have a blazer or jacket with her. Who the hell comes to the offices prior to 8am and sets up before getting their coffee? This woman was weird. Her chirpy voice and polite manners weren’t going to fool him.

Why the fuck did he even care?

He didn’t know this woman, nor did she know him. What she looked like, sounded like, or acted like was none of his business. He’d got a stupid therapist to see. This young woman was just another number in a pitiful equation that he no longer had the energy to solve. He tried to ignore her as she waited aside for her coffee to be made, pretending not to catch glimpses of her as she looked up at the hot food menu of the café to pass time whilst he ordered his own cup of drip black coffee.

Both drinks were prepared at precisely the same time. The young woman smiled at the barista as she collected the warm cup, turning on her heels to head towards the lifts. Without thinking much about it at all, Five followed her over after collecting his own coffee – trailing behind her as if he were some sort of lost puppy (or ravenous hound dog) as she crossed the foyer, offering her a curt smile when she summoned the lift.

Silence.

The woman was looking at her watch when the lift arrived. The ding of the bell alerting her to the fact that it was here. Five gestured for her to enter first – after all, he’s kinda got a weird thing about lifts now since the whole universe reset bullshit. He won’t enter one that doesn’t have another person in it…must be a newfound claustrophobia symptom. Perhaps it might be worth seeing a therapist. The woman entered and stood aside to let Five in also, shattering the silence with two ground-breaking, reality-altering, mind-bending words:

“Which floor?”

Five was deafened.

He was sure that his brain had malfunctioned. He hadn’t actually been deafened but he needed her to stop talking and yet never stop speaking all at once. Her voice was like velvet…Five hated the feeling velvet – but loved the way it warmed his skin. He needed to respond quickly before she thought he was weird; her smile would fade and he’d be deemed the office creep for following  a young woman from the café into the lift and then seemingly drooling over the only two words she deigned to utter to him throughout the last ten minutes.

“Oh, er- seven, thanks” he managed to force out.

“Cool, me too” the young woman smiled out in response to him.

This meant that Five had to endure seven floors of close proximity to this woman – standing so close to her that he feel he may actually happily suffocate from her perfume, pretending all the more that the sound of her honey-like chirps hadn’t done something to him.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

One.

She held her coffee in her left hand – no ring, red nails.

Two.

She wore a silver watch on that same hand – written in roman numerals the time was 7:50am

Three.

She had cuffed her blouse sleeves – ¾ length, likely to see her watch.

Four.

Her skirt had a hidden seam – she’d had it altered to fit better.

Five.

Her hair was falling out of the clip – he wanted to be the one to fix it.

Six.

She wore necklaces – silver and layered to match her watch.

Seven.

She was intoxicating.

The lift bell dinged again, signalling to each of them that they had reached the seventh floor. Five felt the air return to his lungs as the young woman stepped out of the enclosed space and walk a few paces ahead, only to have it ripped from him yet again when he realised they were heading in the same direction…

down the same hallway…

to the same office…

office C.

Shit.

Five was all but paralysed, stood eight feet from her office door as she opened it and stepped inside, leaving it open for her next psychological plaything to enter. She hadn’t noticed that he was her client yet. Surely she hadn’t. She wouldn’t have had the time to; hundreds of people worked in this building.

She proceeded to sit in one of the chairs that surrounded the dark, wooden coffee table within the small box-office - crossing her legs as she rested her notebook and pen in her lap. Reading. Learning. Waiting.

Five was left wondering if his brain had actually malfunctioned in that lift; he couldn’t seem to move his feet in either direction. If he backed away now, he wouldn’t be allowed the promotion and would be forced back into basic training. On the other hand, if he walked in that office, he was in the trap of a much younger (much too innocent looking) young woman who had no idea what she was dealing with. It was all well and good for her to prepare the snare, but what if she began to realise she’d caught a wolf as opposed to a rabbit?

Perhaps he could pretend to be a rabbit.

Perhaps…he wanted to be a rabbit.

He walked up to the threshold of the door, knuckles tapping the doorframe, breaking her from her surely feigned concentration. Five didn’t expect the reaction he had to seeing her face for the first time, seeing how her eyes met his, feeling locked in under her gaze. Feeling himself want to spill his secrets to her. He was about to be examined and read to filth and he knew it.

What remained to be seen was whether or not he liked it.

The young woman waited for him to speak, angling herself so that she was ever so casually inviting. She didn’t press him to say anything or even break the eye contact…she just waited. Five was well aware that this was the first trick in any newly-trained therapist’s handbook, but he swallowed thickly and knowingly fell for it anyway.

That promotion had to be worth it.

“I’ve got an eight am appointment in this office.” he managed to chortle out, clearing his throat as not to sound like he chain-smoked two packs of cigarettes on the commute alone.

“You’re early, Mr Hargreeves,”

Her words rang in his ears as she spoke. How did she know his name? Oh, right, therapist – list of appointments, names, times, job roles… fucking idiot.

Five couldn’t move a single inch forwards…or backwards…or anywhere for that matter. He was well and truly pinned down by this woman, and she’d said a total of six words to him so far. He didn’t feel at liberty to move closer to her or invade her office until she specified that he could. Maybe this was his old chivalry training kicking in that Reggie had forced him and his siblings through back in the day. Surely he was just being courteous and kind in the presence of a lady.

Oh, how he wanted to be anything but kind to in the presence of this lady.

“Well, take a seat.”

Five’s feet moved before he even realised they were moving. He didn’t rush over, but he didn’t waste any time either, shutting the door promptly behind him. He sat in the chair across from the young woman, positioning his coffee cup on the small table between them – mirroring her.

He noticed how she watched him closely but also rather nonchalantly, never for one second allowing him the grace of considering that this may be just as nerve wracking and heart attack inducing for her. She remained collected at all times; Five Hargreeves would not be beaten by a woman a third of his age.

“So, Mr Hargreeves, why is it that you’re here?” she questioned, opening a fresh page in her notebook, scribbling a singular word at the top of the page.

What the hell kind of bullshit question is that?

“Well, as much as I love the company of over-confident psychoanalysts, I’m sure you’re aware I’m here on a mandatory basis.” He managed to bite back in response, feeling as though he gained ground back with his viper-like tongue.

“Straight to the point I see. Well, let’s not waste any of your precious time, Mr Hargreeves.” She smiled back in response. Smiled – like some crazy, lunatic bitch.

“Please, Mr Hargreeves is my father” Five spoke out, discomfort increasing every time she chose to address him that way.

Perfect idea, Five - throw your daddy issues into the mix right off the bat - advertise the crazy.

She scribbled a little more, three words this time.

“Five it is.”

Five felt shivers travel down his spine. Her actually using his name felt a million times more invasive and a trillion times less appropriate…and he’d removed that first professional barrier himself. He’d been in her presence for less than twenty minutes and already wanted to kill himself as a sacrifice to whatever deity was torturing him with her.

The next few questions she had were rather basic, ‘tell me more about yourself so I can profile you’ questions. This told Five all he needed to know. She was new to this…she didn’t really have a clue what she was in for, and she was likely handed him as an easy case – but, damn, did she play a good game of poker.

Answering her questions, he noticed how she picked up her coffee and removed the lid from the to go cup. Wondering why, he missed her next question. Why would she have removed that? It keeps the coffee warm. It didn’t make much sense at all. Was she purposefully trying to throw him? How did she know that would throw him?

It took Five until after intently watching her sip her ‘mocha with a lil bite to it’ to realise that she was wearing lipstick…and she would have left messy lip prints all over that lid if she hadn’t removed it.

He wanted to see that lip print.

He wanted to wear that lip print.

He was losing his mind.

She must have noticed that he missed her question as she repeated it to him, making him look like an idiot in the process. He answered as best he could – ignoring the blood rushing from his brain to somewhere else entirely.

This was fucking him off – her hold on him. She didn’t even know him. How the hell had he let such a pathetic woman claim this much control over him? He didn’t know much other than: this situation is forced, unnecessary, and ridiculous. As well as: he’s much smarter than her and she needs to know that.

Five’s answers began to get shorter, snappier, and ruder as the appointment went on. He drank his coffee and steeled his mind over, not allowing this girl to contain him any longer. He ignored his body’s signals and focused only on getting out of this office. All he had to do was prove that he wasn’t some weird psychopath or stupid enough to fall into a mental spiral…therefore, all he had to do was pretend that he wasn’t pumped full of criminal DNA to ensure he did spiral.

He tried to project his anger into his words, feeling as if he could replace the barriers he’d begun to dismantle with a harsh, reliable distain for the people around him. It worked for everyone else, and it would work on this woman.

Only, it didn’t.

She dropped the corporate questioning the second she noticed the change in him, opting for a deeper – more infuriating approach. She tore strips into him as she politely asked him to watch his language in her office space. She pulled him up on every wall-building tactic he had…and he apologised for them. Not with his words; she hadn’t earned that – with his eyes.

He actually felt bad for trying to build walls between the two of them, and he’d known her a total of fifty minutes. She was right to pull him up on his behaviour. She didn’t back down from him once; completely reinforcing the fact that this was her office, and her appointment. He was a visitor. How fucking dare he?

Astounded by himself, Five had nothing more to say to this woman. He was absolutely, well and truly, entirely done for. He only hoped that he’d passed her initial inspection of his mind as not to be pulled by the sacred force of her gravity back into the four walls of this office where he couldn’t control his behaviour around her…but he didn’t.

The young woman set up a weekly appointment for him. Same time, same place; she didn’t feel as though he was ready to progress without support. So, as she signed his papers for him to enter his promotional role, she issued her warning:

“Don’t underestimate the will of others, Five.”

With that, she had him shaking her hand, and stepping out of her office – taking his empty coffee cup with him.

What, the fuck, had she done to him?

As he walked back down the corridor and summoned the lift to go to the 10th floor to see his supervisor, Five was left clutching at his empty coffee cup for dear life. Feeling like a doe that had a near miss with a haul truck. That young woman had just turned him inside out, deemed him insufficient, and asked him to leave…and he was pissed. she'd given him absolutely nothing, and yet allowed him the opportunity to experience everything.

He hated this woman. She was entitled, bossy, and thought she knew everything. She was young and overly caring about her appearance. She clearly had no idea what he was or who he was – nor did she seem to care. She had absolutely no fear. She was ignorant and arrogant. She didn’t have what it takes to do this job. She was infuriating. Her hold on him was a sham and obviously sexually fuelled. Clearly, she hadn’t been in the therapy business for long because otherwise, Five wouldn’t know this stuff about her.

Yet, there was a stirring in his stomach, something primal.

He couldn’t wait for her to do this to him again.

Once he’d handed in his papers, and handed over his old job role, Five was dismissed for the day. He headed straight home, feeling as though the subway couldn’t take him quick enough. His body was tense and his temper was short. Dropping his keys upon trying to get into his apartment was the perfect sum up to his day.

Finally letting himself in, not bothering to switch on the lights or get himself any food, he stripped off and headed immediately for the shower. He set the temperature to a skin-peeling high and stepped inside, letting the steam transport him back to her office.

He took his left hand, the one that she shook earlier today, and roughly took his hard length in hand. He’d been hard on and off since this morning. Any time she crossed his mind, Five was battling with his own blood flow.

He cursed out as he roughly brought himself to a pained climax – believing that the pain would train him into hating this woman…but all he could hear was her honey-toned voice in his ear telling him to let her handle him as if she were stood behind him taking him in hand herself. He could feel her whispy fly-aways tickle his neck as her breasts pushed into his back. That’s when he felt her lips graze his shoulder, leaving those sultry lip prints that he’d dreamt about since realising she wore lipstick.

His cum was hot in his hand and coated the shower wall.

Fuck.

He was a mess for this woman…a storm of feelings, a shitshow of poor behaviour, and a sexual wreck for anything she could give him.

Next week couldn’t come quick enough; and neither could he.

link to: Chapter Two

✦ okay so i'm sorry this took so long for such a short chapter - i got ill :(( hope you enjoy it anyway, more coming soon. this is my first real tumblr fic so pls be kind ✦

✦ the truly diabolical content is to come, let Five have a minute of rest before being mindfucked again :)) ✦

taglist for this fic below: (lmk if you'd like to be added or removed ♡)

@groovydazephantom @girls-overflower @clownstillwritesfanfic @diaryoftheodosia @vroomvroomgirl @kaybreezy3000 @badkitty3000

[elleniemae]

How does Tumblr work, idk. Also first post yaayyyyyy [confetti]

Have my owl house doodles (ft. turquoisespace35’s mythology au)

[chronicfatalist]

I lied. Put ur pants back on. we are actually going to fully analyze and write and essay on Solitaire until our fingers hurt. A paragraph per character, INcluding Ben Hope and Lucas Ryan. If you feel like doing more, we will fully analyze This Winter and volume 4 of Heartstopper but i will tell you every time Solitaire is hinted or shown. Once youre done with your essay, i will read it and judge it on if you know Solitaire enough to be my friend.

[myillusions]

Home (Joel Miller x f!reader)

Summary: You and Joel have been in a relationship, but only in private, for multiple months. After you spot him with another woman whilst roaming Jackson, scepticism ensues. The trials and errors of Joel Millers emotions.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid-50’s, reader is 24), pretty heavy angst, fluff, swearing, joel being mean, happy ending, fighting (verbal), uhh misconception on a situation

A/N: hi!! first one shot fr so nervous to post this one. i apologise for it being quite rushed it was typed on my phone and somewhat unedited!! still hope u enjoy thanks so much to anyone who reads <33

“Joel!” You caterwauled through a boisterous laugh as his sturdy arms came to wrap around your waist, hauling you back down onto the sunken mattresses, wrapping himself around you to keep you there, limbs intertwining. You struggled for a few pitiful moments, before you inevitably relaxed against his hold with a passive sigh. Joel lowered his head down to press against the dip of your neck, littering multiple content kisses there, before he grumbled against your skin,

“Stay.”

You gave a roll of your optics, pushing him away with a palm to his chest to meet his conceited grin with your own teasing one. “We have to go to patrols, Joel. We’ve slept in for too long.”

Joel grunted, his hands finding their way to your sides once again to hoist you up to lay on top of him, neck craning upwards to press his lips passionately against your own, hand securely suited on your cheek. You instantaneously reciprocated, humming against his mouth, pressing up against him tenaciously.

You both stayed like that until your throat screamed for reprieve, disconnecting from him; though he still chased after your lips. You gave a faint chuckle, tapping him against his abdomen as you lifted your thigh upwards, rolling off his brawny physique to heave yourself from the bed, however begrudgingly. “Come on, old man. Get up.”

Joel remained where he was set, arms crossing behind his head comfortably, merely staring over towards you as you rummaged around to pick out blemished clothes for the day. After dressing, you peered back over towards Joel, who enduringly continued to examine you from where you stood fumblingly, stealing all remaining breath from your lungs with a single glare.

You swallowed harshly, before sheepishly saying, “What?”

Joel allowed a small yet winsome smile to crack against his features, shaking his head slowly. “Nothin’. Just wanted to look at you.”

The patrols of the day dragged out for an unnecessarily prolonged time, limbs aching with fatigue by the time you returned to the confines of the Jackson walls. During the entire patrol, your mind had been preoccupied; the days earlier moments shared with Joel finding a special place in your heart, carving its name against it, deeply and thoroughly. You bit your lip in thought, pondering on your relationship with the peppered grey and brunette-haired man. Sure, you weren’t exactly together, and your entire situation consisted only behind closed doors; besides the hushed whispers, discreet glances and tender touches in passing, that is. You two both agreed early on that you wouldn’t be public about your close association, preferring to keep it private. If this would be from embarrassment of being seen with you or to protect himself, you weren’t sure; but in all sincerity, you didn’t much care. He had you, you had him, and his arms around you felt like home.

You were dragged from your thoughts when a spirited giggle sounded from a nearby alleyway. Allowing your curiosity to take the best of you, you creeped forth to seek out the source of it. Intrigued, you peeked your head around the corner, heart instantaneously spiralling downwards into the pits of your stomach, finding home there. It didn’t take long to register the scene unveiling before you, becoming so accustomed to the way the familiar man’s broad back strained against his stocky shoulders, with his hair unruled, sticking out in multiple different directions. Only thing was; he wasn’t alone. Joel was placed halfway down the alley, close towards a woman, who you assumed was the origin of the titter. She shifted in her placing, alluring eyes flickering up towards Joel, who was whispering incoherent words into her ear.

You didn’t need to see anything else, tears already pitifully welling up against your sockets to blur the sight as you shoved yourself away from the scratchy brick which burned along your flushed skin, setting a quick pace down the streets of Jackson, breath strained and struggling to find its escape. The overwhelming, jagged emotions surrounding you like a hurricane caused your insides to wound up tightly, threatening you with the efforts of a choked sob. You let your feet take you in any opposing direction to where Joel and the woman weren’t, eventually winding atop a hill, spine raking down the back of bark as you settled into a compacted ball.

You bit down on your bottom lip as it wavered. The pain in your heart accelerated from a dull throb to a searing, glaring pain; kicking your heartbeat to something much adjacent to a sharp hammer against a blistering anvil. And just as swiftly as it came, all afflictions broke from your wind pipe, like a brisk, frigid zephyr rushing past; causing an agonising weep to be sought from your throat. The conflict caused your head to be thrown forwards in the space between your arms, seeking any source of solace possible. Not much came.

That was how you ended up here, fixed atop a hillock, with Maria giving her best to console you, wiping away reminiscing tears from your cheeks messily with the back of your palm.

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

The question makes Maria pause, her brows pinching together in a questioning manner as her attention downturned to where you were perched, set with your back against an oak tree and knees firmly planted against your chest. “Whys that?”

“He’ll never love me.” You murmur in response, throat closing in as you meet your dejected gaze with Maria’s own benign one, swirling with hints of sympathy. It was blatantly clear who the topic was revolved around, and you were aware that Maria understood this, too. The only people who knew much about you and Joel were Tommy and Maria, which you were thankful for.

She took a sharp inhale as she considered her next words, her head tilting to the side thoughtfully. “I think, sometimes, we fall for people we know we shouldn’t.”

You gave a defeated, laborious sigh; stomach churning sickeningly at her words, before you gravely inquired, fretting Maria’s answer. “But why?”

“It’s easier to fool ourselves and say that we’re okay, I guess. If we fall in love with someone we can’t or don’t have, it keeps the fantasy of ‘what if’ alive, y’know?” Maria answered softly, as though worried she would puncture an old wound of yours, whilst you apprehensively pick at strands of grass, the texture stinging against your tender flesh, “When someone is unobtainable, we live in the world we create of them in our mind. It makes seeing reality much more difficult.”

You frown towards this, tears watering with the threat of spilling over in a moment, though you force it back. Maria found a way to discreetly pinpoint your exact situation with shrewd words, however pessimistic. You were unable to form a coherent sentence in reply, so instead you offer the woman a tight-lipped, doleful smile, truly grateful for her opinion. You drag your glare over the setting sun, which began to give way to the moon, drowning the sky out in a whirlpool of azure and bronze and littering the canvas with white specks.

You gave a pensive hum, keeping your attention set against a peculiar dot shining obnoxiously brighter than the rest. “When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don’t seem to matter very much, do they?”

Maria gave a light chuckle of her concurrence, arms raising to wrap along her chest. Your head dipped downwards to now focus on the soiled terrain, the brief moment of peacefulness rapidly fleeting. It really is the hardest thing- when the person you want to comfort you the most, is the one that left you feeling that way. There’s no escaping that painful homesick feeling that settles in your chest.

Once the sun had completely dipped behind the silhouettes of the mountains, you had bid Maria a tepid farewell, heading back in the direction in which you came, only this time veering off to walk towards your assigned house. After hauling the door open and closing it brutally behind you, your footsteps barely made it past the kitchen before three resounding knocks banged against the flimsy wood of your door, the echo reverberating against your eardrums frantically. You released a shaky exhale, shifting back around to twist the handle, slinging the door open, only to be met with Joel standing on your porch, an amiable grin stretched along his expression. Though, it immediately fell as he took in your appearance; puffy eyes, reddened cheeks and a perpetual frown.

“What happened?” Joel questioned, taking a step forwards to embrace you within his hold; but you precariously moved a pace backwards, causing his arms to fall loosely by his side. You cast your gaze downwards, not yet to be able to meet the man’s interrogating eyes.

“I saw you… out there…” You murmured; words barely distinguishable. Joel took another step, closing the door behind him with his foot, but he didn’t dare make any additional actions.

“What? What do you mean, you saw me?” Joel inquired; tone wary. You didn’t respond for a multitude of passing moments in tense silence, until Joel called your name, breaking you from your sorrow and giving way to vexation; like a glass bottle, which withheld a secret note within it, shattering. You snapped your attention up towards him, profile hardening.

“That woman, Joel. I saw you. In that alleyway.” You informed, taking the chance to reverse more from his towering figure. You watched as his face morphed into that of uncertainty, before it fell into cognisant and penitence. You stood, waiting bitterly for his coming response. He opened his mouth for a few moments, though no words came; he fixed himself with a cough, shifting against his weight subtly.

“It wasn’t anything. We were only talking.” Joel tried, and you couldn’t stop the way an astonished scoff escaped you, eyes rolling sardonically, as you shot back, voice somewhat lifting to a dim yell,

“Talking? Please, Joel, that’s the dumbest excuse I’ve ever heard!” Joel gave a groan, hand lifting to rub at the spot between his eyes momentarily, his head shaking vigorously.

“No, you don’t understand. She’s been causing problems with Tommy, I was only warning ‘er-“ You interrupted him with a humourless laugh, throwing your arms up against the air. How idiotic did he believe you were?

“Don’t even try lying to me. It was obvious, she was practically undressing you with her eyes!” You retorted, blatant indignation raging against your eyes.

“I ain’t bloody lyin’, girl!” Joel countered, his own tone thickening. You gave a harsh glare towards him, pivoting on your heel to force your way into the lounge room, clammy hands running along the material of your pants in efforts to compose yourself, though it proved to only rile you up more as Joel followed suit.

You whirled around here, scowling. “How can I even trust you, Joel? You don’t tell me anything! I don’t even know how you feel half of the time.” You pointed out with an exasperated huff. Joel stopped in his steps towards this, jaw grinding downwards irritably.

“You knew what you were getting into when this started.” Joel reminded you, only causing your stomach to lurch drastically more. He was right, you had known what getting into something with Joel Miller meant. It meant nothing was public, so he had no true obligation towards you. That didn’t break your stance, though, remaining resolutely stubborn as you crossed your arms over your chest protectively.

Joel gave an overwhelmed sigh, his posture slightly falling as he spoke, gaze directing to the side of you. “This is wrong. You’re so young, you don’t know what you’re doing to yourself, being with me.”

This caused you to shoot daggers against his skin, teeth clenching. “I’m not a child, Joel. I have every idea.” You turned away from him, unable to continue to watch him stand there like he was being forced to remain in place, like it was a duty. You clicked your tongue resentfully. “Though maybe I should’ve listened when Maria said this would be a mistake.”

Joel grumbled from behind you, his movements stiff. “Why does everything always have to be a fuckin’ struggle with you?”

You spun around to face him, viciously, storming forwards to accusingly jab a finger against his sternum. “Me? I can’t believe you sometimes! You can barely even look at me in public! But when we’re alone, you say all this comforting shit to me. Then you act like absolutely nothing happened? God, and I’m the idiotic one? I don’t know why you’re dragging me along, why you’re getting me to play this game. I don’t understand you.”

Joel immediately shoved your hand away from him, holding it against his own palm securely, countering you with an immensely threatening sneer. “Like I told you already; she’s been causing trouble around Jackson, and it’s a problem for Tommy. I was telling her to back off. Nothing was happening.”

At this point, it was too late to even comprehend the thought of him standing before you, so ardently obstinate in safeguarding his feelings with his reticent answers. Besides, even if you did believe him about the woman, the dispute dug so much deeper than that, this was only the pristine cherry on top of the double scooped ice cream. You had convinced yourself into accepting his requirements for the relationship, though you always covertly knew you wished he wanted more. You raked your hand back from his as you felt a tug against your throat, an alarming sob beginning to rise up to fall past your lips. You refused to let Joel see you cry, though, instead turning your head away from him, with a suppressed sniffle under your hand as you wiped against your cheek.

“Maybe you should just leave now.” You decided with a whisper, keeping your gaze set against your window, where outside the people of Jackson frolicked absentmindedly over the winding streets. Joel persisted to remain in his spot, standing rigid.

“Just leave, Joel.” You spat out, your voice cracking unadvisedly. Joel gave a defeated sigh, twisting on his heel to vacate the residence. And just like that, he left you standing in your living room, stout tears rolling down your sensitive skin the second the door slammed behind his dispersing frame. You pressed your limbs closer against yourself, head lolling down sullenly. You were unsure which pain was worse- the shock of what happened or the ache of what never did. Homesick.

Two days had passed since your quarrel with Joel. To say it had been arduous would be an

understatement. You were sat in your lounge room, pressed closely against the cushions besmirched with soot, restlessly picking at your nails after returning home from a tiresome afternoon of patrols. You had been weighing the entire argument in your head since it occurred, unable to sleep the night of, thrashing and twisting against your worn-out mattress, only to eventually grow irritable and sit out on the front of your porch until the sun awoke from its slumber.

After a multitude of hours spent staring towards your bergamot-stained wall, you hoisted yourself from the uncomfortable material, throwing on a black wool jacket on your way out the door, decisively trudging in the direction of Joel’s house. The flow of your relationship with the man had been a choreographed dance for multiple months, ripping you apart when you needed to cling. You supposed the time had come to implement some new moves. This was the only thought rushing through your mind as you slammed your fist against his stocky door multiple times, regret instantly seeking into your veins; but before you had the time to turn and rush back in the way you came, the door was thrown open to reveal a stern Joel, who had also just come back from his own patrols, no doubt. With the way fatigue hopped against his eyes and his rugged appearance mixed with worn-out clothes, it was clear he was tired.

“Hi.” You breathed, eyes wide as you gawked at him, poignantly. He stared for a second, his expression unreadable. Much to your relief, he then moved off to the side to allow you in, wordlessly. You edged past him, shoulder lightly raking against him which caused him to exhale woodenly as he shut the door, the scent of whiskey wafting over your senses like a lustrous wave. You turned to face him, all prepared speeches dashing off before you could catch up with them. You rather just- pathetically gawped over at him.

Joel then cleared his throat, brows furrowing as he pushed. “Well?”

You shook your head, regathering yourself. You blinked back towards him, breath quickening expeditiously as his expectant gaze met yours. Fuck, why was this so difficult? You decided to pace in front of him, in attempts to gain some ounce of confidence.

“Ok, well, you see- I kinda, no, I sorta- I figured that I didn’t really hear you out all that much yesterday.” You began to ramble, hands flailing beside your body as you walked back and forth, “It’s just I saw you with that woman, y’know? And it hurt. It hurt a lot. Even if it wasn’t anything. And you’re embarrassed to be seen with me around other people, and that hurt more. So even when you tried to explain the situation, I didn’t want to believe you-“

“Embarrassed?” Joel interrupted gruffly, squinting. You stopped dead in your tracks to peer around at him, curiously. Joel gave a sigh of realisation, a small grin replacing his frown, though it was quick to be wiped. He took a prompt step forwards, to which you tensed at, though didn’t dare move.

“Sweetheart, I’m not embarrassed to be seen with you. I just-“ Joel paused here, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip, “It’s not safe for you to be seen around with me. I’m not a good man.”

You completely turned to face him, awareness barrelling into you at blistering speed, demeanour abruptly flipping over and around. Fuck. You had thoroughly believed that you were the problem. Had you truly misinterpreted the entire situation?

You shook your head in an insistent manner. “You’re not a bad man, either, Joel; I don’t really believe that.” Joel grimaced towards your words, palms curling into fists by his side.

“You say that, but you don’t understand the consequences of being- truly being with someone like me.” You stare towards him, weighing your options against the palm of your hand, before you come to a rash conclusion.

You hastily drew yourself closer to him, “I don’t care. I want to be seen with you. I want people to know.”

“People will talk.” Joel persuaded tirelessly, moving back from you until his spine almost pressed up against the discoloured wall. You almost sneered your reply, determined for him to recognise your lack of acknowledgement for the opinions of others.

“Let them. Joel; even if you are doing this to try and protect me, I don’t want it. I can protect myself. And I- we’ve all done some fucked up shit. It’s a necessity in a world like this. I want you. All of you. Please.”

“Why?” Joel insisted, and you couldn’t muster up a reason to not allow the words to spill easily from your mouth, like translucent liquid,

“Because I’m in love with you, Joel. I struggle to even form a logical thought when I’m around you. You make me feel safe, like I belong. I wouldn’t have survived this long here without you.”

An inflexible silence rested against the abundantly thick air, gripping you in a chokehold. Lament wavered along your physique, and you opened your mouth to speak again, prepared to spill out a thousand apologies.

“Joel-“ You were cut off by Joel taking two perilous steps forwards to crash his lips against yours. It took a moment for the action to configure in your brain, gears short circuiting, causing Joel to tense and begin to pull back. You quickly raised your palm to his cheek, salt peppered beard scratching deliciously at your skin, bringing his jaw down to your own to meld your mouths back together; creating the perfect sculpture. You crooned against him as he turned the both of you around, pressing your back against the wallpaper, your arms dropping carelessly around his neck as his hands came to circle your waist and pin you as near to him as physically possible, and you blissfully allowed it.

Joel gave a groan when you disconnected your lips from his own, having to glide back up to the surface and draw in an immense inhale. You smiled, content, as your head dipped forth to press your foreheads together, breath being deftly shared between the small space separating you both.

“Okay.” Joel spoke gently after a while, your gaze flitting up to meet his, falling into a trance at the way his brown eyes deeply bore against you.

“Okay?” You repeated, breathless. He gave a small grin, his attention flitting downwards to your lips, and he couldn’t resist the urge to reach a hand up and trace his thumb over your swollen bottom lip.

“We’ll give it a try.” Joel replied, his optics flittering back up your face. Your breath hitched as his digit dragged along your cheek bone. We’ll give us a try. You released a pleased exhale, eyelashes momentarily fluttering down against your skin as you nodded. You blinked back up towards Joel, whose gaze was already intently set on you.

“Okay.” You affirmed, and Joel dipped his head down towards you again, capturing you in an embrace that sent a sharp shiver along your spine. Wrapped against his build, his scent of sandalwood and musk drifting about, plump lips comfortingly pressed against yours and brown eyes which you could find yourself lost in for decades. And in that peace, you found home again.

“You and I, always almost. Again, and again. We were always on the verge of almost. Never nothing, never something.”

Home - Paravi

Comments and feedback are appreciated!

[freedyweedyjustiney]

Goofy ass bitch look at him😭🙏🙏🙏 why he looking at me like i did it😭

[spectre-rumi]

This is unfinished but whatever im tired

I really like the designs of @marsipain and their Ninjago cyberpunk au/Ninjaglow au and decided to draw Lloyd in it. it may look a bit wonky but i did this like last year summer and has been sitting in my gallery for almost a year so why not post it unfinished lol

[really-burnt-toast]

First post! I was extremely scared to post anything tbh - but I really wanted to share art about my most recent hyperfixation sOOOO... Here are my lamb designs! I haven't drawn anthro characters in years but this game is really fun to draw.

I wanted to post something fully rendered first, but grew lazy lol

[deli0191]

Dance with me, friend (open for small requests!)

[cringecat9]

”yes anxiety” we all say in unison

[ultraacherries]

Need - jude bellingham 🍒

this is my first time writing a fic so my grammar and spelling is horrible lol i’m open to criticism so feel free to tell me what i should improve on !! if you want to leave suggestion all feel free !!

Him wanting you was an understatement.

He needed you.

He needed to ruin you in every way possible.

He needed to undress the innocence that wrapped around you like a cloth and taint you with every sin known to man.

He needed to break every part of you and then piece you back together with love that is on the edge of consuming him.

The lustful attention thrown at you did nothing to sedate the thoughts of having you to himself, your very being belonging to him. Only him.

Everyone could see it, from his unwavering longing gazes, to his protective touches, everyone but you. Your oblivious nature didn’t mean your feelings towards him were platonic like they once were.

You started to feel a sudden shift when Jude moved to real madrid, his confidence and physique filled you with an indescribable feeling, one you’ve never felt before, his friendship was always something you treasured dearly but now you found yourself craving for something more.

You might be oblivious however he wasn’t. He saw the way you’d blush when he’d hold your hand protectively guiding you through a crowd or when you clenched your thighs together as you watch him working out. But he knew you wasn’t ready, although your thoughts mirrored his, your thoughts were clouded with confusion as to what these emotions were. He was willing to wait for you, rejecting the urge to destroy his years of self control.

That was until he saw you in Rodrygo’s embrace after a match. Jude gathered his things ready to finally see you and sink into your warm presence only to find you with someone else.He was aware that your relationship is nothing more than a “platonic pair”, but his self control cracked as unreasonable rage consumed him.

You felt a hand dragging you out of the stadium, into the parking lot and pulled you into the passenger seat, to then sit on the opposite side without a word.(pretend jude has his license lol)

You were about to question what the hell just happened but his clenched jaw and tight grip on the steering wheel made you hesitate a little. After a few minutes of silence you mustered up the courage to ask.

“Jude are you mad at me” you said quietly. He turned towards you with a dark look that softened a little as soon as he saw the soft gaze directed at him almost forgetting that you where in the arms of another.

He turned away refusing to let your eyes deter him and asked “what were you doing with Rodrygo baby” his calm tone that once offered you comfort now fills you with unease.

“Rodrygo is also my friend Jude i was congratulating him on the win” you tilt your head in confusion you didn’t see why you need to offer an explanation.

He lets out a sarcastic laugh that made a shiver run down your spine but that didn’t stop your frustration.

“ i don’t see why you have an issue with this you don’t-” he cuts you off.

“finish that sentence Y/N go on i dare you”

your mouth clamps shut in submission surprising the hell out of you. He exists the car and walks over to your side and opens it. Even his rage couldn’t stop him from taking care of you and it made your heart flutter in your chest.

He takes your hand taking you up to the hotel room where you were staying until you two return back home from Barcelona. He swipes the card key opening the door and pushes you onto the wall beside it.

“Jude ” you’re silenced by the hand the creeps up to your waist. You can feel the anger vibrate off of him and form into a state of desperation.

“i love it when you say my name baby it drives me fucking crazy, ” his voice filled with a need that mirrored your own.

“jude-” he groans which makes your body fill with warmth and shock.

“did his arms feel this good y/n” he questions as he rests his head in the crook of your neck, his breath ticking the special spot that made squirm.

“n-no” his hands go up his jersey that you were wearing and he rests them on your stomach. The heat of your body clashes with his cool skin leaving your mind hazy.

“you’re already gone, and i’ve barely touched you sweetheart” he chuckles in a way you found so attractive it made you freeze in his hold. This was wrong he was your friend.

“jude ”you whine and his grip on you tightens.

“hmm” he groans into your neck again heightening your arousal.

“friends don’t” you were to shy to carry on, to admit what’s happening between the two of you. However, Jude wanted to hear you say it. He needed to hear you say it.

“best friends don’t what ? i wanna hear you say it baby go on” he looked up at you but his gaze was too much to bare so you look away.

“b-best friends don’t touch each other like this” you stuttered. Deep down he knew you were right but his frustration was clouding his judgment.

Your chest moving with every breath, the slight tremble your body omits is enough for him to bend you over right now and have his way with you.

"okay then ill back away and we will pretend this didnt happen" his voice so soft it sounded like a whisper, he saw the disappointment quickly surround the lust in your eyes. Jude felt his shorts tighten around him begging for release.

"is that what you want y/n you want us to be just friends?" he taunts as he raises those hands further up your body. God those hands drove you crazy you never want him to let you go.

The undiscribable feelings you felt now made sense, you wanted everything he wanted to give you, forgetting and remaining in the comfort of friendship was the last thing you desire.

You desire him. The words you want to say were stuck in your throat, the ability to express them were always denied in his presence, so you look away only for him to turn your head so you can face him again.

" nah baby i want you looking straight at me" his grip on your chin is firm. His eyes overwhelmed with determination. "tell me" he says.

"i-i dont want that jude" he gives you a nod in encouragement telling you to go on, which makes you drip with arousal and confidence which leads you to utter;

"i want you jude" you take step closer even though it was impossible with how intertwined your bodies were.

" i need you jude" you whimper in his hold as he moans at the juxtaposing innocence and lust swimming in your eyes. He brings you into a long awaited kiss that conveying the burning desire and desperation, making you both dizzy.

Jude’s thoughts we’re preoccupied with one thing…

You needed him.

[ghastlygraves]

losing it over this show

[lazi4ss]

part 2 for milkmannn plz🥺

Hmm🤔

Should I? Cause if I did make a part 2, it'll be smut lol I don't know how else to progress the story logically or rationally. And also, I haven't wrote smut before so it might come off as weird and poorly written, but there's a first in everything I guess and a learning experience :D